“I think that’s a compliment.”
“Interpret it however you want, but quit doing it. The manager is watching us.”
“Don’t worry about him. He won’t say anything. He wants Will and me to join the league again.” Chance straightened and waved at the manager. He waved back, shaking his head and chuckling as he turned away. “Now, go get ’em, tiger.”
Emily started the swing and the steps, concentrating on rolling the ball. This time it didn’t bounce when she released it, and it zipped down with more power. Holding her breath, she watched it go straight down the lane, smack into the first pin, and knock eight of them down.
“Yes!” Jumping up and down, she ran back to Chance. He grabbed her at the waist, picked her up off the ground, and spun around while her friends cheered. When he set her back on the floor, he gave her a big hug.
“Think we should count that one?”
“You’d better.” Laughing, she grabbed her Dr Pepper – Chance was converting her – and gulped a big swallow while Jenna had her turn.
Emily threw a gutter ball next, and several times during the evening. But it didn’t matter. She also made a strike and knocked down lots of pins now and then. When they were finished, Will had barely beat Chance, who declared that he’d let his big brother win so he wouldn’t get an inferiority complex. Dalton had the top score in the other group, with Nate coming in second as expected. Along with Emily, Jenna and Lindsey had quit keeping score halfway through the evening.
Afterward, when Jenna suggested they go to Cold Stone Creamery for ice cream, Emily squealed in delight. Chance stared at her in amusement. Since he had a sister, he’d evidently experienced girlish enthusiasm on occasion. Unlike her father, he didn’t seem to mind.
When they arrived at the strip mall and bailed out of the pickups, Jenna switched places with Nate so she could walk beside her. Chance was on Emily’s other side, possessively holding her hand. That was becoming a pleasant, comfortable habit. Maybe it was dangerous, but right then she didn’t care. She intended to enjoy every minute of the evening.
Emily turned her attention to Jenna. “This is a great idea. I’m such a regular customer at the Creamery near my house in San Antonio that they start working on my order when they see me come through the door.”
“So you always have the same thing?” Jenna asked, her expression filled with disbelief.
“Yep. Stuck in a rut.”
“Then you have to try something different tonight.”
“I can never decide what to mix in.” Emily could only remember a partial list of the fruit, nuts, candies, and who knew what else that was available. “There are too many choices.”
“Come on, live a little. You didn’t know how to bowl, either, but you did all right. As good as Lindsey and me, anyway.”
“Do you always have something different?”
“Every time. Though I admit there is usually some chocolate in there somewhere.”
“Is there anything else?” Emily laughed and looked up at Chance. “What kind do you like?”
“Vanilla. No mix-ins,” he said in a monotone.
Emily stopped and studied his deadpan expression. She didn’t believe for one second that he could go in there with all that wonderful ice cream and other goodies and order plain old vanilla.
“You can’t be serious.”
Nate chuckled as he and Jenna halted. “He’s slipped into Sergeant Monday mode. It’s okay, he’ll come around in a few minutes.”
“Dum-de-dum-dum.” Will sang the opening lines to the Dragnet theme song.
“Don’t you mean Sergeant Friday?” Emily asked, looking from Nate back to Chance.
“No, ma’am,” said Chance in that same even-toned voice. “Just the facts, ma’am.”
“Don’t you have the facts mixed up?” Emily played along, pulling her shoulders up to make her back ramrod straight and assuming what she hoped was a tough cop stance.
A glint of laughter danced in Chance’s eyes, but he kept the straight face. “No, ma’am. Sergeant Monday is my name.”
Emily slowly circled him, tapping her fingers together. Grinning, the others watched. “So tell me, Sergeant Monday, do you actually prefer plain vanilla ice cream? Not even a few sprinkles?”
Chance kept his back straight and head forward, though he glanced down to meet her gaze. “Sprinkles are for kids, ma’am.”
She switched tactics. Moving to his side, she poked his hard bicep with her index finger. Laying her hand on his shoulder, she said in a honeyed, exaggerated Southern accent, “Shugah, nobody would evah mistake you for a kid.”
Will hooted, Jenna giggled, and Nate laughed out loud. Dalton put his arm around Lindsey and leaned down to make a quiet comment, evoking a shared grin. Chance’s lip twitched, but he managed to keep a straight face.
Emily walked around behind him, trailing her fingertips lightly across one shoulder, the nape of his neck, and the other shoulder.
“Aw, that’s sneaky.” Will shook his head.
When she was in front of Chance again, she toyed with the edge of his shirt collar. “You need to live a little, shugah. Walk on the wild side. Break out of that vanilla mold. Try cotton candy, bubble gum, or maybe green apple gummy bear.”
That did it. “Gross! No thanks.” Putting his arm around her, Chance nudged her toward the shop.
“So did you take drama?” Absently noting that everybody else was following them, Emily put her arm around his waist as he shortened his stride to match hers.
“Some.”
“Don’t let him off that easy,” said Dalton. “He had the lead in half the plays they did in high school.”
“Among other things, he played a pirate, a cop, and even did a little Shakespeare,” Jenna added. “Forsooth, what light in yonder window breaks . . . or something like that. I should remember it since I helped him practice his lines.”
“So was the Monday character part of a spoof on Dragnet?” she asked, looking up at him.
“Yes. Another student wrote the play. It was pretty good.” He smiled smugly. “And the lead actor was great.”
“Meaning you.” Emily tickled his side.
“Of course.” He released her and dodged her fingers.
“I think Emily has taken some acting classes too,” Lindsey said. “You’re good.”
“I did. All through high school and a couple of classes in college. I had the lead in a few plays, but more often I was a secondary character. I started out in first grade.” She lifted her chin proudly. “I played a lady pilgrim at the first Thanksgiving dinner.”
They reached the ice cream store, and Will opened the door, holding it as everyone trooped in.
“Y’all would make a great couple to head up the cast at our community theater.” Lindsey walked backward as she talked, and Dalton quickly moved a chair before she tripped over it.
“I didn’t know Callahan Crossing had a theater.” Emily glanced at Chance. He appeared as puzzled as she was.
“We don’t, but we could start one.” Lindsey bubbled with excitement. “Jenna took drama too, and I could paint all the scenery.”
“I’d help build the sets,” Dalton offered. “Chance would have to do double duty. Build and act.”
“I could be the director.” Will made a cutting motion across his throat. “Cut!”
“You never took a drama class.” Chance shook his head.
“No, but I’m good at ordering people around.”
“That’s an understatement.” Nate grinned at his boss and friend.
“Seriously, y’all, I think we should do it. There are several buildings that might work. I bet we could get a lot of people involved.”
Emily kept quiet as the group tossed ideas around and ordered their ice cream. She wouldn’t be there to take part in a community theater. Or see the town rise from the ashes. Or to know whether or not the museum and Bradley-Tucker House brought people into town.
Lord willing, by the time they were be
yond the talking stage about the theater, she’d be working at the McGovern in Dallas. She’d received a call on Thursday that they were down to choosing between her and two others. The board had decided to go over the applications and talk to the director to make their decision. She wouldn’t have to go back for another interview.
Chance had been happy for her and proud, bragging about her to the family. They had congratulated her, but she sensed some worry too. Which was perfectly normal, since he had told them how he felt about her and that he might be moving. Dub and Sue probably wanted to send her packing, but they were too nice to throw her out.
Oddly, she wasn’t as excited about the job as she’d expected to be. Even knowing that Chance was willing to go with her hadn’t helped. Or maybe that was part of the problem. He was willing, but she didn’t think he should. He talked about moving his company to a smaller town near Dallas and even seemed enthused about it. But she was afraid he was trying to convince himself as much as her.
Tonight, the thought of moving away, even to a new, fascinating job, filled her with sorrow. It would be easier with Chance there. And it wouldn’t. She would feel terribly guilty about taking him away from Callahan Crossing and the people that he loved.
Nor was he the only one who would miss the Callahans and Nate. And Zach! She’d miss Dalton and Lindsey and all the folks in the Historical Society. If she got the job – and it was still a big if – she wouldn’t start until June. She could set up the Callahan Crossing Museum before she left. But she would no longer be a part of it. Or of Callahan Crossing.
Emily shook off her melancholy thoughts. None of that might happen, and as Grandma Rose was fond of saying, she shouldn’t borrow trouble. This was not a night to dwell on troubling things.
She didn’t think she’d ever had such a good time with friends as she had this evening. Bowling was not her sport. But that hadn’t mattered. She didn’t feel like a loser. She’d enjoyed the company of friends who were dear to her.
And I’m with the man I love.
Emily gasped softly, relieved that Nate’s laughter at Jenna’s order drowned out the subtle, telling sound. That thought had been definite and final. No wishy-washy wobbling about whether or not she loved him. Why had she had such a hard time recognizing it and accepting it?
There was still the problem of what to do if she got the job, but she’d deal with that another time. The quest to prove to her father that she was worth something didn’t seem quite as crucial as it always had. For a little while, she would forget about goals, expectations, and a father who might never be proud of her. Or care for her.
Tonight she would thank God for life by living it in his joy. Tonight was for stepping out of her comfort zone and taking nothing for granted.
Snuggling against Chance’s side when he put his arm around her, she smiled at the clerk. “I’d like mango ice cream with strawberries and macadamia nuts. And two bites of devil’s food cake on the top.”
“Hey, you got out of the rut.” Chance gave her a quick, little squeeze.
“Just followin’ my own advice, shugah. Livin’ on the wild side.” She looked into his eyes and softly added, “And lovin’ my man.”
He went still, searching her face, seeking her heart. She nodded ever so slightly, and he drew in a slow, deep breath. Tucking her hair behind her ear, he leaned down and whispered, “Do you mean that?”
“With all my heart.” Heat suddenly flared in his eyes, and she caught her breath. Her knees went weak, and he sensed it, tightening his arm around her waist.
Her heart racing, she looked away. Good thing Will had come with them. If they’d been alone, they’d be in a heap of trouble.
24
On Sunday afternoon, at Sue’s suggestion, Emily took a couple of Miss Olivia’s journals over to show Chance. She quickly realized that she’d been set up. When she walked through the back door, he removed the journals from her hand, laid them on the kitchen table, and handed her the end of a piece of thick brown twine. The rest of the string disappeared beyond the doorway of the kitchen.
“What’s this?” She grinned at the pure mischief in his eyes.
“A treasure hunt. Just follow the string.”
“Do you want me to roll it up?”
“Naw, that’s too much work. Just wad it up as you go.” He looked like a kid on Christmas morning waiting to run downstairs to see what was under the tree.
She followed the twine out of the kitchen and down the hall to his workout room. It wrapped around the handrails on the treadmill, went over to the weight set, and looped around a barbell. It took her a few minutes to unwind it and go back out the door. It led down the hall to his office, wrapped around his chair three times, went in one side of a closed drawer, and out the other.
“Do I open the drawer?”
“Yep.”
Opening the drawer carefully, she found an old ranch record book. She tossed the twine on the desk, reverently removed the book from the drawer, and opened it. It was dated 1886. “You talked Dub into loaning it to the museum?”
“Yes, ma’am. And it wasn’t easy, either. This is one of the better ones because it isn’t only a record of expenses, but it’s a diary of the year too.”
Emily looked through it randomly, finding weather information, cattle bought and sold, supplies purchased, notes about visitors and cattle buyers. There were even a few notations recording national events. “This is wonderful. Thank you.” She laid it on the desk and gave him a lingering kiss. “I’ll thank Dub later.”
“But not in the same way,” he teased. “Or Mom and I will both be after you. Now, pick up the twine again and keep going.”
“There’s more?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She followed it to his bedroom, where it meandered around a pair of boots, across a straight-backed chair, into the closet where it draped over the rod between some empty hangers, and went back out again. “I should have rolled this up. It’s a big wad of string.”
“Hang on.” He took a pocketknife off his dresser and opened it. She stretched the twine taut so he could cut it. “Throw the rest of it on the bed. I’ll clean it up later.”
Emily resumed the treasure hunt. The string was wrapped around the door handle to the guest bedroom, but it didn’t go in the room. She unwound it and followed it in a straight line to the living room.
It ended taped to the fireplace mantel beneath a small, ornately carved silver container. Rectangular with a lid, it would have sat on a lady’s dressing table a century earlier to hold hairpins. “It’s beautiful. Where did you get it?”
“It was Grandma Clara’s,” he said quietly, picking it up. “She kept her wedding ring in it. According to family legend, she was too practical to get another ring when they got married and used her engagement ring.”
He looked down at the silver container. “Clara left this to Grandma Irene, my dad’s mother. She liked the box but not the ring. It wasn’t fashionable in her day. But she kept the box on her dresser because it was pretty, and it reminded her of Clara.”
Emily’s pulse kicked into high gear. A man didn’t talk about engagement or wedding rings unless he had something in mind. His hands were shaking slightly. His hands never shook – except when they had been hiding from the tornado. And that didn’t count.
She was about to receive a marriage proposal from a man she loved and adored. Calm down, let him do this his way. That wasn’t easy to do when she was itching to see the ring – and his face when she accepted his fantabulous offer.
“Grandma Irene gave it to Mom, and she’s kept it on her dresser for years. Saving it for the right person.” Chance lifted the lid on the box and took out the ring. Emily couldn’t see it, partly because his big, beautiful, work-worn hand was in the way and partly because her eyes were all misty.
He set the box on the mantel, took her left hand in his, and dropped to one knee. “Emily Rose, will you marry me?”
“Yes.” Without hesitation, without wor
ry. Everything would turn out all right. She felt it in the very core of her soul. “Oh yes!”
He slipped the ring on her finger. A large, faceted ruby, circled by six slightly smaller diamonds on a rose gold band.
“Chance, it’s beautiful. Absolutely incredible.” She held it out in front of her, tears of happiness pooling in her eyes as he stood. “It’s perfect.” She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him.
“I thought you might like it.”
“And it even fits. That’s amazing.”
“Not really.” He settled his hands at her waist. “Jenna drew a template of one of your rings last week. She’d noticed that it was one you wore on your left hand, which is good because I never considered that your hands might be a little different size. I took the template and the ring to the jewelry store, and they sized it.”
“Last week. You were pretty sure of yourself, weren’t you?”
“Not completely, but I was determined and wanted to be prepared.” He shrugged. “It’s a Callahan trait. Let’s seal this deal.”
“With a handshake?” she asked, suddenly feeling impish and giddy. Resting her hands on his shoulders, she wiggled her fingers, catching the light in the diamonds.
“No way. Come here, soon-to-be Mrs. Callahan.” He lowered his head and touched his lips to hers – giving, taking, and filling her heart with promises of a wonderful life together.
When he raised his head, she sighed happily and leaned her forehead against his chin. “Mom is going to want a big society wedding.”
“Tough.”
She giggled and looked up at him. “My sentiments exactly. Want to elope?”
“I’ve thought about it. Mom and Jenna would kill us. Let’s sit down and figure it out.”
Emily took his hand and led the way. They plopped down on the couch, and he put his arm around her, tucking her in close. She held out her hand, staring at the ring, and he laughed.
“How long does this last?”
“What? Admiring my beautiful ring? I don’t know. I’ve never been engaged before. But I expect a lifetime.”
Emily finished the preliminary work on the ranching exhibit at the museum on Wednesday. Besides saddles and other horse tack, they had a wall displaying ranching pictures from the 1880s through the 1930s. Another wall held branding irons from many of the ranches in the area and some horns from a longhorn that measured almost eight feet wide.
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