Cowboy Up

“He knows something’s going on,” Clay said.

“What is it?” Emily looked eagerly from one to the other. “Are you going to surprise him tonight?”

“No.” Sarah glanced over at the door to the dining room as if worried that Emmett might have crept back down the hall. “Emily, go make sure he’s left.”

“Be right back.” Emily hurried out of the dining room.

Sarah moved closer to Clay. “He really will love this cookout. But if he knew about it in advance, he’d pitch a fit because we’re going to extra trouble on his behalf.”

“You’re right, he would.”

“But it’s going to be so perfect. I realized this morning that you’ll need to dig two fire pits, one for the bonfire and one we can let burn down to coals for grilling the steaks.”

“I can do that.”

Emily came back in, her face pink with excitement. “He’s really gone. So what are you planning?”

“Clay can explain it all. I need to go check with Watkins, if he’s still in the kitchen. His guitar was missing a string and I need to make sure he’s fixed it.”

“He’s still there,” Clay said, “but you might want to knock before you go in.”

“I see.” Sarah grinned. “Thanks for the warning. Catch you two later. Call if you run into any glitches.” Then she walked toward the kitchen. “Sarah Chance is on the move!” she called out. “If there’s anything going on you don’t want me to see, you’d better cease and desist immediately!”

Emily looked at Clay. “What the heck is that all about?”

“Just a little romance between Watkins and Mary Lou. Come on. We have tables and benches to load into the back of a pickup.”

“Okay.” She fell into step beside him as they headed down the hall lined with windows on the right and family pictures on the left. “This visit is turning out to be way more interesting than I expected.”

That patronizing remark set his teeth on edge. Added to her comment about not needing the hat once she went home to California, he decided to broach the subject of her attitude. “You know, this ranch may not be your favorite place in the world, but could you pretend it is, for your dad’s sake?”

She stopped in her tracks. “Wow. You are definitely hostile.”

He spun to face her. “I suppose I am. I love that man like a father, and you—”

“I love him like a father, too. My father, in fact.”

He wondered for the first time if she resented all the attention Emmett had devoted to him. “Point taken.”

She gave him a brief nod, as if at least that much was settled. “Anyway, I don’t want to give any impression that I might like to live in Wyoming. To me, that would be crueler than being honest about my feelings. My mother gave him that kind of false hope, and I think he’s still hurting because of it.”

Clay hated to admit it, but she made sense. He wished she loved ranching the way Emmett did, but if she didn’t, pretending could possibly do more damage. He took a deep breath. “You’re probably right. I apologize. I have no business sticking my nose in, anyway.”

“Sure you do. You love him. And from the way he raves about you and your accomplishments, I think he loves you, too.”

“He raves?”

“Oh, yes. He brags about the way you carefully saved your money for tuition and then worked odd jobs while you took classes in Cheyenne. He was so proud of your grade point average. And when you got that scholarship, he mentioned it to me several times.”

Clay gazed at her as his understanding grew. “It’s a wonder you don’t hate my guts.”

“At times I did, although I don’t like admitting that. Besides, he was born to be a dad, and I haven’t given him much chance at that. Knowing you were here relieved my feelings of guilt.”

“Still, I’ll bet you got tired of hearing about my accomplishments.”

She shrugged. “It’s hardly your fault that I’m not focused like you and can’t for the life of me figure out a career. My dad’s not likely to brag about my surfing ability, so that leaves him with nothing to boast about when it comes to his only child.”

“Do you have a job?”

“Of course I have a job. How do you think I support myself?”

He decided not to mention that he’d been convinced she didn’t support herself, that she was living off the money Emmett sent her every month. She might not appreciate knowing that most everyone at the Last Chance knew he sent checks and wondered why when he was no longer financially obligated. They all assumed Emily was living on that money, or at the very least, only working part-time to supplement his generosity.

But her finances and her job situation were absolutely none of his business. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I was out of line starting this conversation in the first place, and we have a lot of work to do before your dad comes home. We should get going.” He started back down the hall.

“Going where?” She lengthened her strides to keep up with him. “You still haven’t told me the plan.”

Briefly he outlined the details. He wondered if she’d find it hokey, but she responded with enthusiasm.

“That sounds like so much fun! Sometimes we have bonfires on the beach and cookouts, too. Usually somebody brings a docking station for their iPod instead of having live music, but a guitar player sounds terrific. Will there be dancing?”

“That’s an excellent question. Knowing the Chance family, there should be dancing.”

“Yay! I love to dance. I…just realized that I have no idea if my dad dances or not. I should know that, shouldn’t I?”

“Not if you’ve never been around when dancing was part of the program.” He reached the front door and opened it for her.

“Thanks.” She tossed her hair back over her shoulder and smiled at him. “I’m enjoying all the gallantry around here.”

“Sarah insists on it, and besides, it’s the cowboy way to show respect toward a woman.” He stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind him. That’s when he looked out at the circular drive and noticed her convertible, top still down, leather upholstery exposed to the sun.

He couldn’t stand it. “Do you have your car keys with you?”

“No, but I can get them. Is my car in the way?”

“You can leave it there, but you need to put the top up. You’ll ruin the leather seats.”

“It’s stuck.”

He glanced over at her. “Permanently?”

“I don’t know. I pulled over at a rest stop around eight last night and decided to put the top down for the rest of the way, so I’d be sure and stay awake. When I got here, it wouldn’t go back up. I meant to say something to my dad this morning, but he was so excited about the barn tour and then I got interested, too. My convertible wasn’t a top priority.”

Once again, Clay had been guilty of assumptions. He needed to stop making them when it came to Emily. “We don’t have time to fix it now, but if you’ll get your keys, you can put it in the tractor barn so at least it’s out of the sun. The tables and benches are stored down there, so drive on down and I’ll meet you.”

“Good idea.” She glanced at the BMW. “It’s eight years old, and things go wrong with it. My mom found it in the paper and thought I should have a classy car, but sometimes I think I’d be better off with something more practical.”

Clay couldn’t agree more, but he could tell the purchase had been more about pleasing her mother than pleasing herself. Emily Sterling didn’t fit into the box he’d created for her, and that might put him on dangerous ground.