by Amelia Rose
Cole strode into the restaurant and walked up the counter. All of the waitresses were bustling around serving and cleaning off tabletops. One of them, Margie, an older lady and one of his favorites, gave him a smile and called, “I’ll be right over, hon!”
“I wouldn’t dream of leaving without seeing you,” Cole drawled back with a grin of his own. Some of the bad mood was starting to slide off his shoulders. He took a deep breath of the scents of coffee, fried eggs, and bacon. It could still be a good day. Maybe he could even work up an apology to Emma over the right breakfast.
He turned in surprise when he felt a small, feminine touch on his left shoulder accompanied by the words, “Well, if it isn’t just the man I’d been thinking about.”
“Trish,” he said flatly as he turned to face his ex-girlfriend.
“The one and only.” She gave him a dazzling grin and stood on tiptoe to press her lips to his cheek.
It was only habit that brought his hands to the small of her back, but it made her snuggle closer. She still wore the same perfume. She still smelled delicious. Good God, he needed to get it together. He and Trish had such a tumultuous on-again, off-again relationship, he was aware that Darrell and Marshall had a bet going that it still wasn’t over. It was the unbearable thought of Marshall winning the bet that made Cole straighten up and untangle himself from her enthusiastic embrace.
“So, what are you doing here?” he asked casually, trying to will the waitress over with the power of his mind. Apparently, telepathy wasn’t a talent he possessed because Margie only went on talking to a man at the table in the corner.
“Barrel racing,” she said with a laugh. “What does it look like?”
“I just didn’t know if you’d already eaten or if you were just coming in,” Cole clarified and then wished he hadn’t. Now, if she had just come in, it would sound like he was asking her to eat with him.
“I just got done,” she admitted. “But it’s just been so long this time that I had to stop and talk to you.”
This time? Cole thought with an inward shake of his head. What the hell had she expected?
“I do seem to recall you throwing my phone into the river and screaming that if I knew what was good for me I wouldn’t ever call you again,” he reminded her.
She did at least have the good grace to look ashamed of herself. “I really am sorry about that, Cole. I should have called you.”
“I’m sure you and the river would have had a nice conversation,” he said agreeably.
“You didn’t get a new phone?” Trish asked in surprise.
“Yeah,” Cole said with a nod of his head. “Different number, though.”
“Oh.” She looked momentarily flustered. “Well, I guess I see then.”
He didn’t want to, but he felt bad. She must have seen it in his expression because she said, “I’ve missed you, Cole. Are you seeing anyone now?”
Another question he wished he had a better answer to. It had been six months. He should be seeing someone by now. For a second, he was half-tempted to make up a story, to invent a girlfriend so he didn’t look like such a lonesome loser. But Cole McKenna had had it drilled into him since he was old enough to understand it, that lying was wrong so he sighed and admitted the truth.
“No, I’m not seeing anybody right now.” Or at all since we split up the last time, he finished silently. He saw no need to give away all his secrets.
“Me, neither,” Trish said, running her index finger up the inside of his arm. “It just didn’t feel the same with anyone else.”
“Yeah, no one throws things at me quite the way you do,” he acknowledged.
“Oh Cole, you’re not going to hold that against me, are you?” she asked with a slight pout.
“Now why would I do a thing like that?” he asked dryly. Finally, in an answer to his desperate prayers, Margie stepped behind the counter.
“Just you, Cole?” she asked pleasantly.
“Nope, me plus three,” he answered.
“Is the booth in the corner good for you?” she asked as she gathered napkin wrapped silverware and gestured to a sunny little booth at their right.
“Wherever you want to put me, sweetheart,” Cole teased. “I know better than to argue with beautiful women.”
“Charmer.” She swatted him lightly on the shoulder with the dishcloth she was carrying and then said, “Go on and get settled. I’ll start up some coffee for you and get some cups.”
Cole turned to Trish, expecting and hoping like hell, that she was going to leave now. Margie had obviously known Trish had already eaten but from the look she swept them with, it was also obvious that she’d wanted to hurry her out the door. Trish had a little bit of a reputation around this town. Nothing too sordid or too unseemly, but Margie had never really approved of Cole getting tangled up with her. Looking back on it, he figured he could have saved himself a lot of heartache if he’d just listened to the older waitress in the first place.
“I’m going to go to the ladies room,” Trish informed Cole. “I’ll swing back by to say goodbye.”
Cole nodded while forcing a partial smile and walked over to the booth. Darrell came in a few moments later and surveyed the contents of the restaurant before Cole waved him over.
“What took ya’ll so long?” he asked as his brother sat down across from him.
“Sorry. Talking,” Darrell answered.
“To who?”
“Emma.”
“About what?” Cole demanded.
Darrell only shrugged and Cole sighed. Marshall walked in, but he didn’t stop at the table.
“Where’s he going?” Cole demanded
.
“Bathroom,” Darrell answered.
“Is Emma coming in?” Cole asked, sporting mixed feelings as to whether she had somehow changed her mind.
“Yeah.”
“You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to give a little more than a one word answer to any given question, Darrell.”
“She’s right there,” Darrell said as she walked in the door. “Three words. Better?”
Before Cole could come up with a suitably sarcastic reply, Emma dropped into the seat next to him and shock took care of his ability to form sentences for a second or two.
“I may have been too hard on you,” she said stiffly. “I’ve been talking to your brothers and they say you really aren’t the chauvinistic jerk you seemed to be this morning.”
He looked across at Darrell, who was keeping his face impassive. Emma waited to resume the conversation until coffee and the cups to go along with it had been distributed. Margie did a double take at Emma sitting beside Cole, and her eyes sparkled with held-back questions. Cole only shrugged. Margie might think they were cute together, but forgiveness, if that was what was happening here, was only the start.
“So we can start with a clean slate as far as I’m concerned,” she said, fiddling with a few packs of sugar with a nervous gesture he found surprisingly endearing.
“Sure,” he answered as he poured five packs of sugar into his own coffee and stirred it. “That works for me, I guess.” He wondered if she was forgiving him because she liked him, or because she liked Marshall and didn’t want a strained relationship with Marshall’s little brother.
“So,” Emma said, trying to be friendly and change gears on the conversation. “What do you do?”
“What do you mean?” Cole asked in confusion.
“Well,” Emma hesitated slightly, as if searching for the right words. “Darrell rides in the rodeos and Marshall runs the ranch. What do you do?”
“Marshall doesn’t run Silver River!” Cole wished his tone hadn’t been quite so harsh when Emma practically flinched. “We all own the ranch in equal shares.”
“Oh.” Emma wrapped her hands around her coffee mug as if she was trying to warm them up. “I didn’t know that.”
“Trust me,” Cole said flatly. “I do just as much as anybody else on that ranch.”
“More than
me,” Darrell offered, clearly trying to smooth the situation over.
It worked, just not in the way that he’d been going for. Emma took the opportunity to change the subject.
“Is the rodeo a lot of work?” Emma wondered.
Darrell nodded.
“I guess you have to do a lot of training too,” she went on.
Darrell nodded again.
“So you really don’t talk much, do you?”
Darrell shrugged and Emma smiled at him.
“At least you’ve got that going for you,” she said, turning back to Cole and giving him a different sort of smile. It was almost shy and one look at it sent his bad day to the back of his mind as nothing more than a memory.
“Oh, you’d be surprised at the things I’ve got going for me,” Cole said without thinking about it as he stretched his arm out along the back of the booth behind Emma’s slim shoulders.
“Would I?” she asked in a softer, almost flirtatious tone. A flush moved along her cheekbones and he gave her a smile.
“Oh, yeah,. I--” However, that was as far as he got.
“Hi,” a saccharine sweet voice from behind them said.
Cole cursed in his head at the distinctive voice. Darrell’s eyebrows went up. Emma turned around with a polite smile. Cole had a ridiculous urge to physically shield her from what was probably about to happen. As that wasn’t an option, he started talking.
“Hey there, Trish. This is--”
“I thought you told me that you weren’t seeing anybody,” Trish cut in with another wide, fake smile at Emma. “Well, Cole, she’s a pretty little thing, even if she is a townie. There was no need to be ashamed.”
Oh, she’s still got it, Cole acknowledged to himself. That complimentary tone with just enough ice underneath to make a person feel a chill without being exactly sure why. Three allegations in a row so he didn’t know which one to answer first. Townie, that fake way Trish had said pretty, or the fact that he was ashamed of her.
“I--” he started, but Emma broke in and spoke over his stumbling words.
“I believe you’re mistaken,” she said firmly.
“Oh, am I?” Trish asked in false confusion. “Then why don’t you enlighten me, honey?”
“Where should I start?” Emma mused as she stirred her coffee. “I guess I’ll begin with thanking you for the compliment. You’re not unattractive yourself, you know. I think you’d be even prettier with a different shade of lipstick and lighter makeup but that’s just one girl’s opinion, isn’t it?” Emma gave her a wide grin. Cole and Darrell were frozen in their seats as Emma continued her assessment.
“For another thing,” Emma went on when Trish tried to interrupt, her face flushing a dark, angry red. “I’m not exactly a townie, although you should probably get used to seeing me around. I’m the new owner of Raven Branch. And, last but certainly not least, I only met Cole McKenna this morning so we are most definitely not seeing one another. As a matter of fact,” she stood up swiftly and gestured toward Cole. “I think you two might just be absolutely perfect for each other.”
“Emma, wait,” Cole began, but she was already headed toward the door. He watched her nicely-filled out jeans as they disappeared through the door.
“What did I miss just now?” Marshall asked in confusion as he came back from the bathroom, scanning the individuals left at the table.
“Every damn thing in the world,” Cole said as he turned to Trish. “Good to see you. I think I’m going to sit here and eat now.”
“Cole--” she began, almost apologetically.
“Goodbye, Trish,” he said, making his voice as flat and as cold as possible, while looking down at the menu.
Her face went pale and then flushed. Cole got ready to duck just in case things started flying his direction.
“Justin Cole McKenna,” she began hotly.
“Excuse me,” Margie said briskly. “But I’ve got orders to take here and I don’t need you starting trouble in this restaurant. Order another breakfast or move along, Trish.”
Trish met Cole’s eyes for a second and he made damn good and sure she saw a definite answer in them. She turned abruptly and stomped away as Margie put her hand on his shoulder briefly.
“I’ll be back to get your orders in a second, boys,” she said with a soft smile.
“What the hell did you do now?” Marshall demanded as he took a sip of his coffee. “Do you know how hard I’ve been trying to convince Emma you’re not a jerk? And then you let this happen?”
“I don’t know,” Cole muttered, dropping his face into his hands. “I don’t even know how any of that happened. It was just...” suddenly the full impact of Marshall’s words, or rather his accusations, sank in. “Hold on just a second! How is this my fault? You think I would have come in here if I’d thought Trish might show up? You think I would have subjected Emma to that? Is everything going to be my fault today?”
Before Marshall could answer Cole got to his feet. “I’m going to the bathroom. Order me some eggs.”
He was so busy stomping away that he missed Marshall handing Darrell a crisp twenty dollar bill.
Darrell folded the bill and tucked it neatly into his battered brown leather wallet as he said, “Told you they were really done.”
Chapter Five
After that day, Cole didn’t hear anything from Emma. Actually, none of them did. A week dragged by and he had never been in a worse mood. In addition to Marshall and Darrell avoiding him, his own horse seemed not to want to have too much to do with him. It was probably that his level of tension made the big animal uneasy.
The tension only got worse as the week went on. He couldn’t seem to do anything right lately. The cattle were unruly, the cattle dog, Pete, didn’t listen to a damn thing he said, he cut his hand on one of the scythe blades he’d managed to sharpen to a decent edge in preparation for haying, and he couldn’t even relieve his frustration with a nice long ride down to Raven Branch because Raven Branch was a big part of the problem.
He wanted to know what was going on. Was she buying stock? Had she hired any hands? How was she going to get that hay cut and baled? Hell, did she even know that she needed to do it? Maybe she just thought it was tall grass.
Cole also couldn’t stop wondering if Marshall was thinking about her, too. He hadn’t mentioned her, but that didn’t mean anything. Marshall didn’t talk much about his women. At least, the women Cole assumed he had. There had been plenty of girls for his brother in the past, but now he seemed set on finding a certain kind of woman. An experienced woman to help him run the ranch. A woman steady enough to live on the limited income a ranch provided.
Cole shook the thought out of his head. That wouldn’t be Emma. She had a ranch of her own. Unless Marshall was planning to ask her to sell her ranch and move in with him. Cole chewed his lip. Maybe she’d give him a discount. He snorted in annoyance at his own train of thought. This was pointless. There was no sense in continuing to let her prey on his mind. She probably had everything under control.
He walked back to the house for supper, squinting into the huge, red ball of fire that was the setting sun. That was probably why he didn’t see her. Emma squealed when Cole walked right into her on the gravel path leading up to his house.
“Oh, God,” he muttered as he caught her arms, easily holding her upright. “I’m sorry. The sun was right in my eyes and I just didn’t see you standing there.”
“I thought that was what the hat was for,” Emma snapped, trying not to sound rattled, even though he was holding it close against a very rough denim shirt and the very warm, firm chest underneath that shirt. “To keep the sun out of your eyes.”
“It does. Mostly,” he said defensively when she narrowed her eyes at him. “What are you doing out here anyway?”
“I’m here to see Marshall,” she informed him as she pulled away.
“Oh.” Cole answered trying not to sound disappointed. “ Well, I guess he’s in the house.”
�
��That was where I was headed before you tried to knock me down,”
Emma said tartly.
“I wasn’t trying to knock you down,” Cole snapped back as he followed her up to the house, reaching over and flicking the small lock on the gate open for her before she could reach it. “See? I’m a nice guy, Emma, I swear it.”