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EMERY AWOKE WITH A start. The most horrible dream, one in which she’d been arrested then given the ultimatum of going to jail or being sent to work in the middle of nowhere, had jerked her right out of what had been a peaceful sleep.
Leisurely stretching in bed, she drew in a deep breath and inhaled the scents of coffee, cinnamon, and bacon.
Bacon?
Breakfast meat was an indulgence rarely served at her health-conscious home. And cinnamon meant something sweet, also a treat.
Emery opened her eyes and glanced around an unfamiliar room illuminated by the watery light trickling in the window. She’d been too tired to close the curtains before climbing into bed last night. Besides, who was going to peep in a second-story window a zillion miles from the city?
“Nightmare is real,” she muttered to herself as she sat up in bed. Although the sheets weren’t as luxurious as she was accustomed to, they were soft and held a pleasant fragrance. The mattress had also been comfortable. Truthfully, she’d fallen asleep five seconds after her head hit the pillow, exhausted from the trauma of being arrested and arraigned.
Unconvinced her father and uncle would leave her with strangers, she hadn’t bothered to unpack her luggage. The overnight bag her aunt had packed held her favorite pair of silk pajamas, along with everything she’d needed to get ready for bed.
She surveyed the room again, noticing the beautiful antique bedroom set. If she wasn’t mistaken, it was early twentieth century, made of maple. It had been well cared for, with hardly a dent or scratch marring the lovely carved wood. Either that, or someone was talented at restoring furniture.
The mirror above the chest of drawers angled toward the bed, giving her a view of her mussed hair and the pillowcase crease across her right cheek.
“Shower first, then I’ll face the rest of the day,” she said, getting out of bed and admiring the hardwood floor covered with a blue and cream vintage area rug. Although she was accustomed to everything being new and of the latest design, she loved the charm found in antique pieces. As she walked into the adjoining bathroom, she couldn’t help but wonder if the furnishings in the room had been in the Cole family for multiple generations.
Emery didn’t linger long in the shower. The water was closer to warm than hot and the shower stall seemed cramped, at least compared to her spacious shower at home. Besides, she was anxious to speak with her father to see if he’d changed his mind about abandoning her. If her mother had been home, the two men wouldn’t have gotten her any further than the front door before Lisa Brighton put a stop to their plans.
She was willing, albeit begrudgingly, to make restitution for what her father and uncle viewed as her foibles, but Emery preferred to do it somewhere closer to Starbucks and home. Surely her father and Uncle Henry only intended to scare her. That must be why they’d had Drew drive them out here to Summer Creek, to instill in her a little fear and set her feet back on a straight and narrow path, not that she thought she’d veered far from it in the first place. One mimosa, one incident with a horse, one tiny little attempted bribe, and they acted like she’d committed a heinous crime.
Encouraged she’d be heading back home before the day was through, Emery stepped out of the bathroom and hefted a suitcase onto the bed. She opened it then glared in dismay at the contents. Nothing in it belonged to her. The clothes were ... were ... cheap. She would have thought rummaged from a thrift store, but they still had sales tags on them.
“Seriously, Aunt Jenny?” Emery questioned aloud, frantically riffling through the blouses, jeans, and T-shirts that bore tags from a big box store. She had no idea her aunt even knew such a place existed let alone where one was located to go shopping there.
Maybe the clothes were a joke. A bad joke, but a joke.
Emery tossed a second suitcase on the bed and wanted to scream when she opened it. Pajamas, socks, and undergarments filled it, all of low-quality material. She felt hives breaking out on her skin just looking at the clothes.
Angry, Emery snatched a pair of underwear out of the suitcase and held them up. “Granny underpants, Aunt Jenny? Really?” She supposed they were the result of her friends posting the video of her exposed backside on the horse. The lacy undies she’d had on then probably cost more than everything in the suitcase that she gave a disgusted shove across the bed.
With no other options readily available, she yanked on the granny underpants then opened the third suitcase. It held sweaters, jackets, a warm coat that looked like something a farmer would wear, a few simple dresses, and three skirts in neutral hues.
Annoyed beyond belief, she slapped the lid shut on the suitcase and turned to see if there were more suitcases. It was then she noticed the box of shoes. Mixed in with her familiar sneakers, an ugly pair of work boots and a pair of cowboy boots she’d never seen stuck out like warts.
“I hope none of it fits,” Emery muttered, sliding on a pair of jeans that fit her perfectly. Too bad she and her aunt were the exact same size, making it easy for Jenny to shop for her. Emery pawed through the blouses until she found one she didn’t absolutely loathe and pulled it on over a matching camisole top.
Concerned she might be late for breakfast, she combed her hair back into a high ponytail, leaving a few tendrils to fall around her face. Since her aunt hadn’t included makeup, Emery dug out the small makeup kit from her handbag and applied mascara and lip gloss, then opened the door in a rush to get downstairs.
She smacked into a wall and would have fallen to the floor if two strong, warm hands hadn’t caught her arms and kept her upright. Unsettled, she looked up and then up some more into the face of Hudson Cole. A very handsome face, she noted, but one that bore an off-putting scowl.
“Grammy sent me up here to see if you want to join us for breakfast,” he said, releasing her and stepping back.
It was then Emery realized that what she’d run into was not a wall, but Hudson’s incredibly solid chest. Under other circumstances she might have contemplated how a man who could have posed as a modern-day Adonis ended up stuck on a ranch in the boondocks.
With the right connections, he could enjoy a lucrative career as a model. In fact, one of the designers she knew would fall all over herself to get a man built like this cowboy to appear in her fashion shows or advertisements. Not only were his shoulders broad and his biceps as big around as her thighs, but his black hair was thick and curly and his eyes a startling, rich shade of blue. The dimple in his chin and a chiseled jawline made a shiver of appreciation glide down Emery’s spine.
Undeniably rugged and masculine, there was also something about Hud that seemed vulnerable and kind. Yesterday, when he’d strolled up to greet them with chaps on, his hat pulled low and shading his eyes, and spurs jangling on his boots, she’d almost dropped her jaw. The closest she’d been to a real-life cowboy was watching an old John Wayne movie with Uncle Henry.
Should Hudson Cole ever take up an interest in modeling, Emery could envision an all-out war among agents to sign him first.
However, Emery kept those thoughts to herself, especially when Hud frowned at her. He took another step back, his gaze raking over her before he rolled his eyes and retreated down the back steps.
Uncertain what she’d done to offend her host, Emery quietly followed him down the steps of the narrow staircase, trying not to ogle his form-fitting faded jeans. She glanced at the family photos lining the walls as she descended the stairs then stepped into a room Nell had referred to as the mudroom when she’d given her a tour of the house last night. The wall closest to the exterior door was covered with coats hanging from hooks, a rubber mat loaded with boots, and hats sitting on a high shelf. The washer and dryer, two big freezers, a deep sink, and a built-in ironing board filled the remainder of the room.
From there, Emery walked into a kitchen painted a cheerful shade of buttercup yellow that made her smile. The robin’s egg blue hue of the cupboards and the gleaming golden oak hardwood floor gave the space an inviting appearance. Everything about the room seemed hospitable, even if Hudson’s dark glower hinted at how much he wanted her to leave.
Emery didn’t know any details, but Nell had mentioned Hud’s wife had died when Cricket was a baby. She wanted to pump the older woman for information but refrained. She supposed it wasn’t any of her business anyway.
“Good morning, sunshine.” Nell greeted her with a smile as Emery lingered in the doorway.
“Good morning,” Emery said, glancing around. Her father and Uncle Henry were already seated at the table in the sunny breakfast nook while Hud stood by a chair, obviously waiting, but for whom or what she wasn’t certain.
“Go on and take a seat. Everything is ready,” Nell said, pointing toward the table loaded with food.
“Hi, Emery!” Cricket chirped, hopping off her chair and rushing over to give her an enthusiastic hug. “I’m so glad you’re here!”
“Thank you, Cricket. I think that’s the nicest morning greeting I’ve ever had.” Emery returned the child’s hug. Even if Hud looked like he’d love to toss her off his property, his daughter made her feel genuinely welcome.
Not one who’d ever spent time around children, Emery wasn’t sure how to act around the child. However, she found Cricket to be endearing, charming, and well mannered.
“Sit by me. Please?” Cricket asked, pulling on Emery’s hand and leading her toward the table.
“Of course.” Emery allowed the little girl to direct her to the empty chair beside hers. The one that sandwiched her between Hud and his daughter. Rather than focus on the surly rancher, she smiled at her father and uncle. The two of them appeared well-rested and in good spirits as they surveyed the variety of food on the table. The aromas alone made Emery’s mouth water. She’d hardly eaten anything the past two days, and gnawing hunger suddenly caught up with her.
“Hud, please offer thanks for us this morning,” Nell said as she took a seat between him and James.
Emery folded her hands on her lap and bowed her head. Heat seared her cheeks when her stomach loudly grumbled.
Cricket giggled. “Hurry, Daddy. Emery’s starving to death.”
“I can hear that, honey.”
Emery glanced up long enough to watch Hud wink at his daughter before he offered a brief, heartfelt thanks for their meal. Much to her surprise, he included her, Uncle Henry, and her father in his prayer. Once he said “amen,” he and Nell began passing the food around the table.
“How are those cows this morning, Hud?” Henry asked, helping himself to half a dozen pieces of crispy, perfectly cooked bacon.
“Five of them are new mamas and the last one should be joining their ranks before long. I’ll head back out to check on her as soon as we finish breakfast.”
“Did you sit up with them all night?” James asked, spooning oatmeal laden with pecans into a bowl. He poured rich cream over the top of it, then added two spoons of sugar and fresh raspberries to the hot cereal.
“I did. They probably would have been fine on their own, but I wanted to be there in case one of them had a problem. They all delivered without my assistance.”
“Any little bulls in the bunch?” Henry held a platter of waffles while Cricket helped herself to one before he passed the platter to Emery.
The last time she’d eaten so many carbs at one meal had to have been on her tenth birthday, but everything looked and smelled delicious. She took two waffles, smothered them with freshly whipped cream, then added a generous serving of raspberries on top. Before Hud could take the bacon out of her reach, she snatched two more strips and ignored her father’s knowing smile. At home, breakfast usually entailed plain yogurt or a spinach and kiwi smoothie.
“Two of the five,” Hud said, then looked around Emery to Cricket to make sure she didn’t require assistance.
Although Henry and Jenny had no children of their own, Emery knew her uncle loved kids. He whispered something to Cricket that made her giggle, then helped cut her waffle into bite-sized pieces and supervised as she poured warm syrup on top.
Too hungry to do more than fill the starving spaces in her empty stomach, Emery tuned out the conversation taking place around her. Mostly her dad and uncle asked Hud and Nell questions about the ranch, Hud’s sister, and changes in the town since Henry’s last visit several years ago.
From the bits and pieces Emery caught of the discussion, Summer Creek used to be a thriving town until the mill shut down in 1988. From there, businesses closed, and people moved away, leaving behind a nearly-dead town with residents struggling to stay solvent.
“How many people live here now?” James asked.
“If you count all the outlying farms and ranches, four hundred ninety-six, unless Kayla Winegar had her baby and no one told us,” Nell said.
“Do you still get summer tourism in the area?” Henry asked, helping himself to his third waffle.
“We do. If it weren’t for summer tourists stopping for groceries and gas, the town would have died years ago,” Nell said. “Now, we even have a fishing and hunting guide service in town. Parker stays busy from April through October.”
“That’s great.” Henry drizzled syrup over his waffle. “Maybe I’ll book a fishing expedition this summer. I could sure use some time in the great outdoors and out of a courtroom.”
“That sounds like fun,” James said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Count me in, too.”
Emery stared at her father, wondering if the rural setting had drawn out some dormant desire on his part to be Daniel Boone. She couldn’t recall the last time he’d participated in any outdoor activity, beyond golf, just for fun. Even when he played golf, it was usually because an opportunity existed to network with someone, not because he enjoyed it.
He didn’t seem to notice her inquisitive looks and continued asking Nell and Hud questions about the area, the businesses, and the surrounding ranches.
When Cricket finished her waffle and glass of milk, Hud reached behind Emery and touched his daughter’s shoulder.
“Better brush your teeth and finish getting ready for school, baby girl. I don’t want you to miss the bus. You may be excused.”
“Okay, Daddy!” Cricket hopped off her chair. She raced out of the room and down the hallway to her bedroom.
“She’s wonderful, Hud. Every time I look at her, I see Jossy.” Henry smiled with a wistful look on his face. “We sure had some fun times back in the day, didn’t we, Nell?”
“We did.” She nodded in agreement. “I sure miss the days when you and Stran would sit up all hours of the night swapping stories and laughing so hard that Jossy and Hud would sneak out of bed to see what all the ruckus was about.”
“I remember that,” Hud said, smiling at his grandmother. “Jossy and I would crawl behind the couch and listen to Grandpa and Henry.”
“Then you two would fall asleep there and rather than wake you, Stran would cover you with a blanket and say you’d be fine, which you always were.” Nell patted Hud’s hand as it rested near his coffee mug. “I sure miss him.”
“I do, too, Nell. He was one of the finest men I ever knew.” Henry cleared his throat, ready to change the subject, then looked at Hud. “Emery has to put in three hundred hours of community service, and every hour of it must be documented. She has a probation officer she’ll need to report to each week. Is it possible for her to email a report from here or will she need to go to town to do that?”
“If the Wi-Fi signal is working, she can do it from here. Otherwise, one of us will make sure she has a ride into town,” Hud said.
“Or she could walk. It’s only what, four or five miles?” her father asked.
Emery glowered at him but remained silent. They spoke as though she wasn’t in the room, so she didn’t see any point in interrupting them now. She hoped her father and uncle wouldn’t notice if she climbed into the car and went right back home with them. Thoughts of hiding in the front seat made her suddenly aware of Drew’s absence. Surely, he hadn’t left without them.
“Where’s Drew?” she blurted.
“He ate earlier and volunteered to keep an eye on the cows in the birthing pen,” Hud said, as though her father’s driver hanging out with his livestock was the most natural thing in the world.
Emery felt like she’d tumbled into an alternate universe where everything was topsy-turvy, and nothing made sense. The buff cowboy sitting beside her smelled of leather, fresh air, and something uniquely him that she found utterly fascinating and entirely unsettling. Almost as disquieting were the volts of electricity that shot up her leg each time Hud’s thigh accidentally brushed against hers beneath the table. Meant to seat four rather than six people, it wasn’t any wonder they kept touching each other, albeit unintentionally, in the close quarters at the table.
“So, back to Emery’s requirements. She’ll work here for room and board then she’ll need to help in town to fulfill her community service hours. All she has to do is document how much time she spends at each job, what she did, who supervised the work, and a summation of her thoughts on the work when each job is completed.” Henry glanced at Emery over his coffee cup. “Piece of cake, right, honey?”
“Not exactly.” She gave him her most pathetic, put-upon smile. “Are you sure I can’t do the community service at home?”
“Absolutely certain,” her father said, scowling at her again. “Your days of freedom and doing as you please are no more. Just be glad you’re a prisoner who got released to work instead of doing jail time. You will work off the community service hours, and help out here at the ranch, Emery Magnolia Brighton. And you’ll do it without complaint and with gratitude to this family for being gracious enough to welcome you into their home. Understood?”
Embarrassed to be scolded like a wayward child, Emery refused to cower. She returned her father’s disdainful look. “Understood.”
Cricket skipped back into the room. In the rush to gather her backpack and get her out the door, Emery escaped outside and gasped as the chilly air enveloped her. Quickly retreating inside to find one of the horrid coats her aunt had sent along, she was waylaid by her father before she could trudge upstairs.
Hand to her elbow, he steered her into the kitchen and pointed to the sink. “Your first job of the day can be doing the dishes.”
She glared at the dirty dishes, covered in dripping syrup and smeared with bacon grease, that sat on the table and counter. “But, Daddy, I don’t know how.”
With Nell and Hud outside waiting with Cricket for the arrival of the school bus, there was no one to assure her she didn’t need to see to the menial task. In her entire life, she’d never once washed a dish and wasn’t even sure where to begin. Thank goodness the Cole family had a dishwasher.
“Like this,” Uncle Henry said, showing her how to load the machine, which direction to turn the plates and bowls so they’d get clean, and how to separate the silverware so whoever unloaded it wouldn’t have to do it later.
“Where’d you learn to do dishes?” she asked her uncle, shocked at the revelation he wasn’t inept in the kitchen.
“Your father and I grew up doing dishes and any number of chores around the house,” he said, glancing at James as he cleared the table. “You never met your grandparents, but they were a hardworking couple without a lot of money. They taught us to work hard and appreciate the value of a dollar. Your father was always the smart one. By the time he was twenty-two, he’d made his fortune.”
Emery knew part of the story, but she always forgot that her father hadn’t been born to money. While her mother flaunted it, wallowed in it even, her father could have been an average person anyone met in a coffee shop or strolling down the street, instead of a man who’d amassed a fortune through smart investments and real estate.
“Do I really have to stay here?” Emery asked, trying not to whimper as she looked at the two men she loved and admired most in the world. Men who were about to fall off the pedestals where she’d placed them.
“Yes, you do, Magpie,” her father said, pulling her into a hug as he used her pet name. “I know you don’t want to, but trust us. This is the best thing for you right now.”
Emery sighed and returned her father’s hug. “Are you sure you can’t find a Russian gulag you could send me to for a few months?”
Henry snorted with laughter, and she felt her father chuckle. He kissed her temple and gave her another tight hug before letting her go.
“No gulags, but please don’t give Nell or Hud any reason to boot you off the place. I plan to check in with them frequently.”
“I’ll be on my best behavior, Dad. But seriously, what was Aunt Jenny thinking with these clothes?” Emery plucked at the sleeve of her blouse, surprised the seams held considering the inferior construction of the garment.
“She only did what I asked her to do. Don’t forget, you’re no longer the heiress to a fortune or about to come into a trust fund worth millions. You’re a poor working girl, earning minimum wage. I asked Jenny to get you a wardrobe suitable for someone of your financial station. Did you try on the cowboy boots yet?”
“No, Daddy.” Emery had no intention of trying them on. Not ever. “Are you sure I can’t at least have my own clothes?”
“You’re wearing your own clothes. From now until you finish your community service, you get to experience life as a woman with limited funds and a strict budget. Remember, no credit cards, no charge accounts, no online shopping. Nada.”
Emery sighed and leaned against the counter. “Not even my Nordstrom’s card?”
“Especially not your Nordstrom’s card,” James said with a grin.
“My phone?” Emery asked in a hopeful tone.
“Definitely not your phone. None of your so-called friends know where to find you and you’re going to keep it that way. Hud and Nell have our numbers. That’s all you need for now. And before you get any bright ideas about begging your mother to come to your rescue, don’t even try it. Let her enjoy her vacation in Georgia. She needs this time back there with her friends.”
At her deflated look, Henry elbowed James. “Tell her the good part, brother.”
James glared at Henry, then looked back at Emery. “For every good report we receive from the ranch and your probation officer, I’ll send something to you.”
“Like what?” If her father thought he could bribe her with gourmet coffee or a decent blouse, he wasn’t entirely wrong.
“Like a box full of your favorite bath products or those chocolates we got in Italy last spring, or some of your clothes.”
“Promise?” she asked, determined to do such a good job, he’d send something to her every week.
“I promise. And if something happens, honey, something that truly scares or upsets you, call and talk to us about it. We won’t make you stay if you are in danger or anything like that.” James looked at Henry, who nodded in agreement. “But we think you’ll find Summer Creek and its residents are just what you need to get yourself turned around and headed in the right direction.”
Emery had no idea she’d been heading the wrong direction and chalked up her father’s words to being old and out of touch with the world she lived in. He spent so much time in his corporate meetings, he’d probably forgotten what it was like to be young, pressured by peers, drifting in a sea of uncertainty while trying to figure out what to do with the years that loomed ahead.
Whether she liked it or not, it looked like she was about to become resident number four hundred ninety-seven of Summer Creek, Oregon.