Dylan didn’t know what Emily was going to do. He knew what she was tempted to do. The slight hitch in her breath, the quickening of the pulse in her throat, the way she leaned slightly toward him, all told him that she was as ready to make love with him again as he was with her. At least, physically.
Emotionally was another matter. There, she still had her reservations, he decided. He couldn’t blame her.
The two of them weren’t well suited.
And never would be. Unless one of them changed significantly, and that was about as likely to happen as a snowfall in the Texas spring…
Her mood suddenly seeming as ambivalent as his, Emily edged away. “Well, I better go in. I have to get up at four, to get breakfast started in the café.”
The gentlemanly thing to do would be to wish her well and let her go. But the desire flaring between them was almost impossible to resist. So Dylan found himself saying, “Are you planning on helping out with the mustangs tomorrow afternoon?”
Emily smiled. “Tell Ginger, Salt and Pepper I’ll see them then.”
Happy he had a reason to keep seeing Emily on a regular basis, Dylan promised he would.
Bypassing the temptation of a good-night kiss, for fear of starting something that would be tough to step away from, Dylan headed home.
He spent the night dreaming about Emily, and woke, wanting her more than ever.
Storm clouds obscured the dawn.
By the time he had finished caring for the herd, rain was pouring down. Just in time to ruin Emily’s breakfast rush. What was left of it, anyway.
Dylan drove by the café. Because of the weather, the exterior was deserted. Inside, the Daybreak Café looked just as sparsely attended.
While down the street, the Cowtown Diner had a respectable crowd inside, from the looks of it, and no line at all outside.
Knowing the hungry cowpokes had to be somewhere, Dylan headed for the feed store.
Inside, as he predicted, were three dozen cowboys and ranchers, using the inclement weather as reason enough to get their supplies in. Among them were all three of Emily’s brothers.
Holden McCabe was the first to approach Dylan. He extended his hand. “I want to thank you for doing your part to help scare off Shillingsworth.”
Not sure he should be accepting congratulations for having had a fling with Emily, Dylan returned the handshake, anyway. “I guess you heard—”
“About that arrogant kid setting his sights on Emily?” Hank McCabe prompted, joining them. “Everyone knows about it. Shillingsworth has been running all over town for a week now, embarrassing himself by telling people that Emily is going to be his cougar.”
“Which in itself is no surprise,” Jeb chuckled. “Given that our baby sis is such a bum magnet.” He shook his head in mock consternation, then turned back to Dylan. “Fortunately, whatever she is pretending to have going on with you has caused the kid to change his mind. As of last night, Shillingsworth is saying he’s no longer interested in Emily.”
“Which of course is good news to us,” Holden said.
Maybe not, Dylan thought, if the kid made good on his promise to seek revenge on their sister, and him.
Jeb ran a hand across his jaw, ruminating, “The mystery is that Shillingsworth ever thought he had a shot with her in the first place.”
“Clearly, he doesn’t understand what it takes to be a McCabe, or fraternize with one,” another cowboy said, joining the group. “The sense of integrity and community…”
“Unfortunately,” Holden said, “it doesn’t matter how many suitable guys are attracted to her, or who we introduce her to, she always ends up with the completely unmarriageable types.”
The feed-store owner walked up to join the group. “So maybe that means you have a shot,” he ribbed Dylan with a grin. “Since you’ve vowed not only to never get married, but never be tamed by any woman.”
Not about to publicly confess he was beginning to wonder if he should reconsider that declaration, Dylan shrugged.
Figuring Emily would not want anyone getting the idea that the two of them had once been intimate, Dylan kept up the expected ruse. “And for good reason, since freedom is the most important attribute a man can possess,” he boasted with the expected machismo. “And the only thing that will ever guarantee happiness.”
Everyone fell silent in an abrupt, uncomfortable way that let Dylan know he had missed something important. He turned slowly. Emily was standing in the open doorway of the feed store. The distressed look on her face said she had heard just about everything.
EMILY KNEW some guys acted as if matrimony was a prison sentence when they were standing around, shooting the breeze. It was one thing to be aware of that; another to witness it when she was the person supposedly carrying the potential ball and chain guaranteed to bring a lifetime of misery to whomever she one day married.
If she ever married.
That prospect seemed less likely every day.
In the meantime, she had a job to do. An awkward silence to end… “Hey, fellas,” she grinned, sauntering nonchalantly forward, as if all her romantic hopes had not just been crushed to smithereens. She pulled the sheaf of coupons from the plastic protector in her hand and slapped them down on the feed-store counter.
“I hope you-all are hungry,” she informed them in her sweet-as-pie Texas belle voice. “Because we’ve got quite the special going over at the café this morning. Buy one of our bottomless cups of coffee, and you’ll get a free breakfast entrée. But the special is only good for today.”
Hoots and hollers echoed throughout the warehouse-style feed store. There was a near stampede for the coupons and then the exit. Giving Dylan and her brothers no chance to say anything to her, she followed the hungry cowboys out the door.
As Emily had expected, the next few hours were incredibly busy. Although the tables outside were empty due to the downpour, the inside was hopping, just the way it used to be.
They served one hundred customers between seven and ten, and because she extended the special through lunchtime, another seventy-five after that.
Finally, it was time for closing.
And that was when Dylan Reeves walked in, his expression inscrutable. “I want to talk,” he said.
“I can handle things down here,” Simone said.
Bobbie Sue and Billy Ray concurred. “We’ll clean up and close up,” they said.
Figuring what she had to say to Dylan was best accomplished without an audience, Emily thanked them and led the way to her apartment over the restaurant.
Dylan shrugged out of his rain slicker.
He continued to look at her in his very sexy, very determined way. “About what you heard this morning at the feed store…”
“I think I got the gist of it.”
He adopted a no-nonsense stance, legs braced apart, hands bracketing his waist. It would have been very intimidating had she allowed it to affect her. She didn’t.
“The guys were just…”
Emily lifted her chin, daring him to try and spin it. “Having a chuckle at my expense? I know. Not to worry… I’m not serious about you, either, Dylan. I know better than that.” And if she hadn’t before, she did now.
“If I were interested in being tied down…” he said.
“Or tied up,” Emily said, trying to lighten the mood with her flip comment. “I’m sure you’d just rush to the phone and call me.”
Dylan ignored her comment and kept his eyes on hers. “You’re an amazing woman,” he told her quietly. “Everyone knows that.”
How had this turned into the preliminary to a break-up speech? Emily wondered. And why did it hurt so much to think that was what it might be?
None of this had been real. She knew that. Didn’t she…?
Years of being the kid sister, and hence the recipient of her older brothers’ incessant teasing and interference, enabled her to regain her footing and pretend she was okay with all this.
Emily cleared her throat with exaggerated enthusiasm. “And you’re an amazing man,” she recapped for him, cheerfully. “And neither of us are interested in marrying each other. So it’s okay.” She flashed a reassuring smile she could not even begin to feel. “Really.”
The narrowed eyes indicated he disagreed with the attempt to just write off the mishap and move on.
Fearing that he would say something that would make her want to forget all about this and forgive him, she leaned closer still. “I get that we are just helping each other out in the short term.” Emily took a bolstering breath and forced herself to hold his eyes in the same deliberate way he was holding hers. “I understand that you are a distraction for me from all my problems in the same way I am a source of free meals and an occasional horse wrangler for you.”
Finally, he saw where this was going.
Dylan’s lips thinned into a grim line. “You really think that’s all we are to each other?” He studied her incredulously. “Aides-de-camp?”
She had to be logical, stop trying to turn guys into all they could be, start accepting them for who and what they were. And no matter how much it hurt, leave it at that.
Resolved that no matter what happened she would not cry, Emily faced Dylan. “That’s a fancy term, cowboy, but given how all this started, with me asking you to be my pretend boyfriend? Glorified assistants slash occasional companions are all we can be to each other.” She set her jaw and finished flatly, “All we should be.”
That said, she showed him the door. The look on her face warned him not to expect anything to change any time soon.
FOUR DAYS LATER, Dylan was in the Last Chance stable, commending Andrew on a job well done, when he heard the sound of Emily’s car. He finished giving Andrew instructions on the making of the bran mash the horses would be getting for dinner, then walked out to the edge of the stable.
Emily was already heading toward the paddock where the three mustangs were waiting.
The younger two had already received their two training sessions for the day. Ginger was still waiting for her second schooling.
All looked glad to see the pretty dark-haired woman striding happily toward them.
Despite the way they had parted, Dylan was glad to see her, too.
“Why does being out on a ranch always make me feel better?” Emily asked the horses as she approached the pasture fence. The three mustangs, which had been standing together against the fence, moseyed over to greet her.
Emily stepped up on the second rail, the action making her tall enough to reach them. She smiled and ran her hands over the faces of the white filly and the black gelding, offering both a carrot for their trouble, and then turned to the leader of the mustangs, three-year-old Ginger.
The mare stuck her head over the fence, too, wanting her treat. Emily gave it to her first, then waited to see what Ginger would do.
Just as she’d done during the past three days of training Ginger pushed her head toward Emily, wanting to be petted.
Dylan knew how that felt, too.
Although they had seen each other numerous times over the past week, Emily had managed not to touch him once.
Or look him in the eye, either.
He’d given her the space she seemed to require, but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss her.
And that was a surprise.
Dylan had never missed any woman who had come in and gone out of his life. He’d never allowed himself to do so.
With Emily, it wasn’t a choice.
He felt the way he felt.
Just as she felt the way she apparently felt.
“How is it,” Emily continued in a soft voice Dylan would not have been able to make out, had he not been coming up behind her, “that horses in general and you in particular always lift my spirits no matter what else is going on?” she asked Ginger rhetorically.
Dylan wanted to know the answer to that, too.
Had he been a fool to think—even after the downward turn of their relationship—that Emily had rushed out to see him, as well as the mustangs? That she enjoyed his company as much as he enjoyed hers, even when she was still obviously angry with him? Or was he the one believing in fairy tales now? Indulging in wishful thinking…hoping someone would change even when they showed no real disposition to do so…?
As if sensing the conflicted nature of his thoughts, Ginger nickered softly in response and swung her head toward Dylan, dipping her nose.
As Dylan reached up to pet the mustang, Emily turned slightly and caught sight of him. He inhaled the familiar scent of her hair and skin. “You look tired.” The words were out before he could stop himself.
She lifted an eyebrow at the unusual display of over-protectiveness.
Dylan had to admit he was a little stunned himself. He didn’t usually comment on the shadows beneath anyone else’s eyes. Even eyes as pretty as Emily’s.
The intimacy in her expression faded as quickly as it had appeared. “It’s been crazy busy at the café all week, from open to close,” Emily said with a shrug. “Even with the tables outside, we are jam-packed.”
Dylan was glad she was getting her clientele back.
It was easy to see why.
Thus far this week, the specials had changed every day. After the success of her free entrée with a cup of coffee, she had gone on to offer a half-price breakfast special—which had been a fruit plate, biscuits and breakfast casserole. The third day it had been all the blueberry pancakes you could eat, for a dollar. This morning, there had been huge fifty-cent cinnamon rolls and coffee. Dylan had eaten there all four days.
The lunch specials the café was showcasing were just as amazing.
“I guess the additional promotions and the specials are really working out for you?”
Emily beamed. “I’ve got all my regular clientele back and then some.”
“Good to hear.” He liked to see her so blissfully happy and content.
Emily released a stress-filled breath. “Which is why I need to be out here today. Breathing in the fresh air and spending some time with the horses really helps me unwind.”
“You could do that at your folks’ ranch.”
Emily moaned and playfully clapped both hands over her ears. “Yes, but at a price. My parents would want to talk about the financial details of my café.”
Dylan had wondered about that himself—even though he knew it was none of his concern.
But as long as they were on the subject… “They might have a point.”
Emily lifted her hand. “I know I’m losing money, Dylan. I had no choice. Xavier was driving me out of business with his coupon deals.”
Dylan’s muscles tensed. “How is Shillingsworth?”
“I don’t know—I haven’t seen him. He put some college kid in charge of the Cowtown Diner and went back to the city a few days ago.”
This was news.
Dylan searched her face. “You think he’s given up?”
Emily bit her lip. “I wish. But…probably not. He’s probably just figuring out some other way to exact revenge on me.”
“Let’s hope not.”
Whatever the situation was, Emily did not want to discuss it. “Enough chitchat. What are we going to do with Ginger today? Put the riding dummy back on her back and lead her around the ring?”
With Emily’s help, Dylan had gotten the smart, adventurous horse used to the blanket and saddle. Then he’d progressed to the noisy plastic bags tied to the saddle horn. They flapped against her sides, where an actual rider’s legs would go. And finally, a riding dummy that weighed fifteen pounds, strapped to the saddle. Now, she was ready for more. As was the woman beside her.
“Actually, I had something more exciting in mind. That is if you’re up for it,” Dylan said.
THIS WOULD BE a whole lot easier if she weren’t still so attracted to the lonesome cowboy, Emily thought as Dylan stepped into the paddock.
Throat dry, she watched him attach a lead to Ginger’s halter and lead the mustang back through the fenced aisleway to the round training pen.
As they walked together, he explained, “It’s time for Ginger to get used to the weight of a rider. She likes and trusts you, so I’d like that rider to be you.”
Excitement bubbled up inside her, along with pride at having been chosen to do this. “I won’t get thrown?”
Dylan favored her with a sexy half smile. He took the blanket and saddle and put them on the big mustang. “Not if we do it my way,” he said reassuringly.
While Emily gently stroked Ginger’s forehead, Dylan bent to attach the girths around the mare’s middle.
“And how is that?” Emily asked, gazing into the horse’s dark eyes. Ginger stared back at Emily, her ears fixed forward, in a sign of happy curiosity and trust.
“I’ll show you.” Dylan secured the stirrups and walked around to take the mare by the bridle. He stood close to Ginger’s head, on the left. Then gestured for Emily to come around, on his right.
“I want you to put your left foot in my right hand, instead of the stirrup. Take hold of the saddle horn and lift yourself up, so you are leaning against the middle of the saddle. Stay as erect as you can, to give her a chance to get used to your weight. But you can still jump off and back, away from her, if need be.”
Ready for action, Emily nodded her understanding.
Dylan gave her waist a reassuring squeeze. “I’m going to hold on to your left leg with my right hand, to keep you steady at the same time I’m holding on to her with my left hand. Okay?”
Emily had seen Dylan do the same thing with the riding dummy, so this was merely a reenactment of what they had done the previous day. Only now she would be the rider.
She looked at Ginger, doing her best to imbue the mustang with confidence and courage, then turned to Dylan. “Let’s do it.”
The first time she hoisted herself, Ginger promptly moved in a way that shifted Emily right back off.
Dylan caught Emily in one arm, holding on to the now-prancing Ginger with the strength and gentleness of his other.
“It’ll happen,” he told them both softly. “You just have to trust that it will.”
Emily nodded. Took a breath. And tried again.
And again she was shaken back off.
And so it went.
For the next dozen or so times, Dylan was right there to catch and steady them both.
Eventually, it became a game.
Ginger chewed her bit and pushed them both away with her nose, dancing back and forth all the while.
Emily knew then that Ginger never would be a docile, mutely accepting pet. After all, this was a mustang who was meant to state her opinion often. As if on cue, Ginger turned her head from side to side and whinnied softly, her voice carrying throughout the training pen.
“We’re going to get through this,” Emily told her, already imagining the day she’d be able to take Ginger on a wild canter through the surrounding plains and meadows. Horse and rider as one…. And then, almost as suddenly, as if she were imagining it, too, Ginger allowed Emily to grab the saddle horn, step up and hold on.
THE TWO FEMALES WERE a beautiful sight, Dylan thought in satisfaction as he let go of horse and half rider and used the long cloth lead to urge them both to circle the training pen.
By now, Emily had one foot in the stirrup. Her body was resting against the saddle, her middle draped across.
Ginger was moving forward, not quite trotting, not quite walking.
Testing, it seemed.
Liking what she felt.
Of being one with the equally feisty and daring spirit that was Emily.
And just that suddenly, Emily did what they had not agreed upon, Dylan noted furiously. She shifted and brought herself all the way down into the saddle.
Caught as much by surprise as he, Ginger reared up on her hind legs.
Emily slid backward.
Momentarily lost her balance.
And somehow managed to hang on before all hell broke loose.
Fear roiled through Dylan as he watched Emily being catapulted off, falling into the wooden-railed side and finally landing with a hard thud on the dirt floor of the round training pen.