Praise for Vivi Holt

The writing was superb staying true to all of Vivi Holt’s writings. Vivi Holt never disappoints in her writing and the amazing books that she has published. She has a gift for writing intriguing and entertaining stories.

AMAZON REVIEWER

My first time reading Vivi Holt, I believe she will be one of my favorite authors.

AMAZON REVIEWER

Wonderful! Vivi Holt pulls at your heart strings and then some

KIT MORGAN, BESTSELLING AUTHOR

EAMON

COWBOYS & DEBUTANTES

VIVI HOLT

BLACK LAB PRESS

CONTENTS

About Eamon

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Exerpt from Of Peaks & Prairies

Also by Vivi Holt

About the Author

About Eamon

Eamon thinks he has love all figured out. A successful accountant, sexy, and full of charm, he's got it all. But when his brother inherits a ranch in south Georgia, he leaves everything behind to help him run it.

Emily Zhu is a driven and ambitious surgeon from Boston. She has her life and career path all planned out, down to the last detail. When she doesn't get the job she's been promised and has been working toward, it seems everything could come tumbling down around her, including her sanity.

When Eamon and Emily's paths collide at a wedding, they fight an immediate attraction. But will Emily be able to find her feet in a world where nothing makes sense? And will she be willing to give Eamon a chance to prove he's the one thing she really needs?

Chapter 1

Tifton, Georgia

Emily Zhu hated weddings.

She hated the pomp and ceremony, the lace and tulle, the sappy speeches and centuries-old rituals. She even hated the new rituals, like when the bride and groom and their entire bridal party would break out in a flash-mob dance during the reception. She’d begged Hazel not to do it – the last thing she needed was a video of her tearing up the dance floor to “Gangnam Style” surfacing on YouTube and have her boss, the Chief of Surgery at Brigham & Women’s Hospital, discover it.

She tugged on the low square neckline of her lavender jersey dress and grimaced. Evening gowns didn’t suit her, and that’s what bridesmaids’ dresses really were. It didn’t fit her personality to be so … frilly. She stared at the mirror on the wall of the small room, surveying the dark shade of eye shadow above her almond eyes and the pink blush brushed across her prominent cheekbones with a frown. Even the red lipstick looked strange on her usually bare lips.

Her gaze landed on the long white dress behind her and and Jennifer Barsby, the maid of honor, standing to one side of the train. The bride turned around. “Em, you have to help me with this - I can’t quite get the zipper to … ugh!” Hazel’s green eyes implored her. Her gown was a form-fitting cream with lace overlay on the bodice. It opened up at the back, and fell straight down her lithe frame. A long train draped along the ground behind her. She looked every bit the bride.

Emily turned to help with a smile – even though she couldn’t stand the tradition, she had to admit her friend looked amazing. Hazel’s eyes sparkled and her cheeks had a natural flush that made her beautiful face glow. With a quick tug, Emily zipped up the side of Hazel’s dress. “There you go.”

Hazel sighed and ran a hand over her hair, smoothing it back into place.

Emily took Hazel’s other hand and squeezed it gently.“Leave it be. Your hair is perfect. You’re perfect.”

“I’m nervous,” her friend confided.

“I can tell,” responded Emily with a laugh. “I think it’s just about time to start – we’d better find your dad. I thought he was going to meet us back here.” Her brow furrowed as she scanned the small dressing room tucked behind the chapel.

Hazel’s eyes flew wide. “Yes, we should find Dad. Oh, and we need the bouquets – where are they?” She threw her train over one arm and teetered around the room in her cream heels.

Emily raised an eyebrow. She moved a pile of bathrobes – no bouquets. They weren’t on the dressing table either. They were nowhere to be seen.

Just then, Hazel’s cousin Hannah raced through the door, puffing frantically. “Have you seen Camille and Jason?”

“What? We’ve lost the father of the bride, the bouquets, the ring bearer and flower girl as well?” Hazel’s face fell and she pressed her hands to her forehead. “We’re supposed to be starting the ceremony … ” She turned to Emily, her face betraying her panic.

“It’s fine, Hazel. You sit right here and relax – I’ll find them. They can’t have gotten far – it’s a small chapel, there are only so many places they could be. Just breathe, I’ll be right back.” Emily hurried from the room as Hazel sat, tucking her train carefully around her legs.

Emily scampered down the short hallway on her tiptoes in an attempt to prevent her heels from clacking on the hardwood floors. She pushed the chapel door open slightly, peered in and saw Dalton and his groomsmen standing by the pastor, handsome in black suits.

She’d met all three groomsmen – two were Dalton’s brothers and one a friend from the rodeo circuit. She’d been paired with Parker, the groom’s youngest brother. Eamon, the best man, stood beside him. From their time together at the rehearsal the previous evening, she could already tell he was more than full of himself. He was handsome, no questioning it, but he seemed to know that a little too well for her liking.

The chapel was filled to bursting with family and friends, and even the mother of the bride was already seated, fanning her face with an order of service. But there was no sign of the flower girl, or the ring bearer, or Hazel’s dad. She let the door swing shut and hurried down the hall.

The pastor’s chambers were on the opposite side of the building from the dressing rooms. She burst through the door there and searched the cozy space frantically. Where were they? A look out the window revealed Hazel’s dad smoking a cigarette beneath a large oak outside. She sighed and pushed the door open, feeling the heat of summer flood the cool room. Mr. Hildebrand?”

He spun around, his eyes wide and his mouth open. He dropped the cigarette, his cheeks turning pink, and stepped on it with the sole of his shiny black shoe. “Yes?”

“It’s time, Mr. Hildebrand. Hazel’s ready for you.”

“Oh, of course – thanks for letting me know. Just enjoying the view, you know, getting some fresh air.”

She smiled and nodded. “I understand. It’s a big day.” She opened the door wider to let him pass. As he hurried down the hallway, she sighed and set her hands on her hips. Now to find the children …

There were several closets in the small chambers and she checked each one. Finally she found them behind the last set of doors, which opened onto a wide square cabinet beneath the narrow staircase that led up to the quaint bell tower. The children had crept inside and shut the door behind them. Dismantled bouquets littered the ground around them, and her eyes widened. “Jason! Camille! Oh my goodness, what have you been up to?”

Five-year-old Jason looked at her with sparkling eyes and a mischievous smile, his hair mussed and one button of his vest undone. Camille, three, bit her lower lip and stared wide-eyed at Emily.

Emily reached into the cabinet, and both children took her hands and allowed her to lead them out of the confined space. Then Camille linked her hands behind her white skirt, her cheeks dimpling as she frowned. “Sorry, Miss Emily.”

Jason quickly followed her lead, though his expression was much less contrite. “Sorry, Miss Emily.”

She sighed. How could she be angry at creatures with such sweet faces? She squatted to retrieve what was left of the bouquets. Even reassembled, they looked tattered, with petals torn and greenery pulled loose. What would Hazel say when she saw the mess that had been made of her thoughtfully selected flowers? “Never mind, children, what’s done is done. Though I imagine your momma will have something to say to you about it afterward. Come on, we have to find your cousin Hazel – it’s time to walk down the aisle. Do you remember how to do it? Just like we practiced.”

“But will Hazel be mad?” asked Jason, fear creeping into his voice.

“She might, but we can’t worry about that now. You both have a very important job to do, okay?”

Jason and Camille exchanged a look, then they both nodded at Emily. “Okay.”

She laid the bouquets on a nearby table, stood between the children and took their hands. “Let’s go.”

Jennifer Barsby flew out the dressing room door, her eyes widening when she saw the children holding Emily’s hands at the end of the corridor. “Phew, you found them! Crisis averted. Where were they?” She tickled Camille under the chin and kissed her on her ruddy cheek.

“In the pastor’s chambers, hiding in a closet.”

“Of course they were. Well then, come with me, you two – we’ve got to go around to the front of the church so we can walk down the aisle with Hazel.” She turned and took the children’s hands from Emily with a wink.

Emily leaned close to Jen’s ear and whispered. “They tore up the bouquets. I put them back together, but they still look it. What should we do?”

Jen blanched and her eyebrows arched. “Shoot. Um … maybe we could pick some flowers from the church garden.” She stood on tiptoe to glance out a nearby window.

Emily frowned. “I don’t think we can do that. You know what? You take the kids around front and leave the flowers to me. I’ll be right behind you.”

She watched Jen lead the kids out the door and along the footpath, then went back to the cramped room to retrieve the bouquets. They were a sorry sight, and she stood with her hands on her hips surveying them for a moment. Well, there wasn’t time to go for more flowers – but if it came down to it, having no flowers at all would be better than raggedy bunches of torn ones.

She plucked out the most damaged buds, removed the torn greenery and re-tied the ribbons that held them together, then held each of the four bouquets up and studied it, her forehead creased in concentration. Better. Not as impressive as they had been – the white roses had been reduced to only a half-dozen each, and the greenery and baby’s breath were cut back – but they looked passable.

She gathered them up and carried them as fast as she could in her high-heeled silver pumps back the way she’d come and along the garden path beside the chapel. When she reached the front of the church, she smiled. The breeze caught Hazel’s veil, making it swish around her satin gown. The sun glanced off her chestnut locks that curled around her long neck as she looped her arm through her father’s. There was no mistaking it – she was a stunning bride.

Emily’s throat tightened. She swallowed the sob that threatened to escape and shook her head. What was wrong with her? She’d never teared up at a wedding before. She must be getting soft. Now that she’d finished med school and didn’t have the constant pressure of study hanging over her, at least until she had to sit the exams for her chosen specialty, she’d changed. She wasn’t as driven as she had been, as consumed by succeeding. That must be it.

She hurried over to Hazel and handed her friend the bridal bouquet with a smile. “You look amazing.” She smiled and felt tears looming again when she met Hazel’s gaze. Her friend seemed excited, anxious and happy all at once, and Emily hoped for just a moment that one day she’d get a chance to feel that way.

Hazel took the bouquet and her eyes narrowed. “Does this look different to you?”

Emily raised an eyebrow. “Different from what?”

“How it looked before.”

Emily shrugged.

“Time to go,” called Jen, waving to them from the top of the church steps.

Emily handed the third bridesmaid, Hazel’s cousin Hannah, her bouquet, then followed Hannah up the stairs. She gave Jen the last bunch and Jen arched an eyebrow when she saw it. “Looks perfect!” she insisted with a wink.

Emily lifted her own bouquet with both hands in front of her lavender gown. The dress clung to her figure more than she’d have liked. She was used to wearing scrubs every day to work, and having so much skin exposed made her shiver a little even in the heat of a south Georgia summer day. The church doors opened ahead, and she glanced over her shoulder to see Hazel behind her, her arm linked through her dad’s, her eyes glowing. She took a deep breath and forced a smile, even as her lips trembled.

Piano music filtered through the doorway, and as Emily stepped into the chapel her heart seized at the sight of hundreds of onlookers’ eyes on her. Jason and Camille were already standing in place beside Hannah at the front of the room. She just had to make sure she didn’t stumble in these ridiculously high heels Hazel had insisted she wore.

She sighed with relief when she neared the end of the aisle and the music changed. As the bridal march rang out clearly and powerfully through the beautifully decorated chapel, the audience shifted its attention to the bride. Emily took her place at the front, soon joined by Jen, and the two of them turned to watch Hazel almost float toward Dalton, smiling and nodding to people from beneath her white veil. Then Hazel’s gaze focused on her groom and her smile widened.

Emily swallowed the lump in her throat as the couple stood beside Jen, hands linked. Hazel passed her bouquet back to Jen, and Emily saw the glimmer of happy tears in her friend’s eyes.

As the service progressed, Emily let her gaze wander over the rest of the bridal party on Dalton’s side. Parker stood behind Eamon. His hair and eyes were dark, and from their time together at the rehearsal she knew he was quiet and reserved. He was also better-looking than any man she’d ever dated. But there was something out of reach about him, as though he lived deep inside his head and couldn’t quite be persuaded to venture out.

Behind Parker stood Buck, his hands clasped in front of him. He looked awkward in a suit and tie, his hair slicked down against his head – you could tell he’d much rather be wearing jeans and a Stetson. There was a line of sweat across his brow and he stared straight ahead as though he might lose his balance if he didn’t.

Then, beside Dalton was Eamon. She wasn’t entirely sure what to make of him yet. Hazel assured her he was likable, but when she met him his eyes had flashed with mischief, and he insisted on calling her “Doc.” He’d flirted with every eligible female who’d crossed his path at the rehearsal dinner the previous night, including her, and he’d taken every opportunity to flash his heart-stopping dimples, to great effect. Before the night was over, every other single woman in the room had thrown herself at him.

But she wasn’t impressed by a cowboy who played the field – she had no desire to be his latest conquest. Besides, with his wavy blond hair, blue eyes and those dimples, she knew she didn’t stand a chance with him. He’d have his pick of women – and from their short time together, it seemed he knew it. No, he wasn’t her type, not even close.

She realized she was staring when he caught her eye and winked. Her cheeks blazed and her gaze dropped to the floor. Great – now he’d think she was interested in him, just like every other woman he met.

Chapter 2

Back at the Cotton Tree Ranch outside Tifton, where Dalton and his brothers lived, Emily changed from her pumps into cowgirl boots beneath her gown. She put on a white beaded shoulder shrug, then hurried outside to join the festivities. The photographer had taken longer than she’d expected, and the wedding reception was already well underway, but there was no way she was dancing at a country hoedown in pumps.

The entire yard at the ranch had been transformed with twinkling lights, strings of hanging lanterns and flowers galore. A square dance floor had been erected in the center of the space, with white cloth-covered tables extending in a horseshoe around it. She reached the dance floor and flashed her boots to Hazel and Jen, who laughed out loud and beckoned her to join them. “Where did you get those?” yelled Hazel above the noise of the band.

Emily struck a pose. “Bought them in town yesterday. Do you like them?”

Hazel grinned. “Love them.”

They danced until the sweat dripped from their faces, then sat just in time for the speeches and the meal. Emily couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun – or so much wine. She rarely drank, since most of her life was spent working in the hospital. As a surgical resident, she barely had time to go to the gym or cook herself a meal, let alone go out for a drink with friends. And being on call so often, she didn’t feel it was right to indulge in case she had to go in to work.

But this was different – she was on leave, nowhere near Boston, and could do as she pleased. She threw her head back and gulped another mouthful of red wine. In fact, maybe she’d be doing a lot more of this – her year as a resident had just ended and she’d been offered a permanent position at the Brigham, where she’d been for the past three years. She couldn’t wait to get moving on her career as a general surgeon. It was what she’d always dreamed of.

The food was amazing – Dalton had selected his favorite dishes, so it was nothing like a Boston wedding reception. Steak so tender it melted like butter in your mouth, barbecued ribs that fell of the bone, corn on the cob, cornbread, sweet potato casserole, fried okra, biscuits and gravy, turnip greens, black eyed peas, and the best macaroni and cheese she’d ever tasted. “Mmmm … this macaroni is amazing!” Emily licked her lips, then dabbed them with a napkin.

Hazel, seated beside her, exchanged a loving glance with Dalton, who laughed and leaned in to kiss her full on the lips.

“What?” asked Emily, who had the distinct feeling she’d missed something.

“It’s an inside joke, mac and cheese,” replied Dalton with a grin that deepened his already pronounced dimples.

Hazel closed the distance between her and Dalton and laid her head against his shoulder. “The first night we met, I tried to show Dalton how independent and competent I was by making mac and cheese from a box.”

Emily rolled her eyes. They were adorably disgusting. “Oh, that’s cute.”

Hazel kissed her new husband gently on the lips, and Emily turned away with a grimace. Ugh. It was true, she wished she had what they did, but they were so sweet it was almost sickening. She stood and took another slug of wine. “Yes, well – you two are beautiful but revolting. I’m going to see if I can get a bowl of that banana pudding – it looks amazing.” She strode off, still sipping her wine.

With a fresh bowl in hand, she scooped a large serving of pudding with a smile. She might not have a hunky man to make out with, but she did have dessert. She turned to head back to the table and spotted Hazel’s parents standing behind her and Dalton. The conversation looked uncomfortable. She knew about the tension between Hazel and her folks, having lived in the same dorm as Hazel while she was studying pre-med at the University of Georgia. She took a bite of pudding, watching the exchange. Hmmm … perhaps she should find another table.

She swiveled in her new boots, lost her balance and stumbled sideways, holding her pudding high in one hand and the half-full glass of wine in the other, not wishing to spill either. Her eyes widened as she felt her feet go out from under her and she landed in someone’s lap.

“Well, what a pleasant surprise,” said Eamon, his breath against her ear.

Her eyes still wide from the fall and her mouth full of pudding, Emily turned to face him and swallowed. “Safe!” she cried, then burst into giggles. What was she doing, making a baseball reference? She knew nothing about baseball and she rarely joked. Her cheeks flamed.

He raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Impressive – you didn’t spill a drop.”

She nodded, took another bite of pudding, then realized with dismay that she was still sitting in his lap. How drunk was she? “Oh, sorry.” She stood and swayed. “I think I’ve had a bit too much wine. I don’t usually drink, so I’m a bit of a lightweight, and there was champagne before the service and during the photos … well, you know. You were there.”

“Yes, I was.” He studied her with a lazy grin, then stood and took her arm. “You okay?”

She giggled again. “So chivalrous. I didn’t think you were – you seemed so … oh dear, I’m talking too much.”

He frowned. “I seemed so …?”

Her cheeks flushed a deeper red. “Um … well, you know. You’re confident.”

“You mean arrogant.”

Her eyes flew wide. “No, of course not, well, maybe. You just like the ladies … oh man, I don’t feel so good …”

“So I’m arrogant and a player?” His eyes narrowed.

He seemed to be purposely misunderstanding her. She was sure she hadn’t said anything like that. Had she? But her head was spinning and everything swayed. “I’m gonna go dance.” She leaned forward and wobbled across the uneven ground toward the dance floor.

When she reached it, she set her wine and pudding down on an empty table and stepped up onto the raised surface. Hannah was there, dancing with Parker. The band was covering a Kenny Chesney song, “Everybody Wants to Go to Heaven,” and it blasted out across the ranch as the crowd on the dance floor writhed to the beat.

Emily looked up and watched the stars twinkle overhead. It really was beautiful out here on Dalton’s ranch – and now Hazel would be living here too. That was hard for her to imagine – Hazel, an orchestral violinist, living on a horse ranch in south Georgia, married to a cowboy. She shook her head and fixed her eyes on the dancers surrounding her. Hannah smiled at her, her lavender gown shimmering in the dim lighting, and she began swaying along to the music with the rest of them.

She felt her feet slip from beneath her again … but two strong hands closed around her waist, setting her right again. She spun around to face Eamon, a sparkle in his eyes. “Mind if I join you?”

She shook her head and he lifted her hands one at a time around his neck. She didn’t resist, unable to break her gaze from his. His eyes were so blue they were almost irresistible. Her legs felt weak, and he pressed close against her, making her gasp. She tightened her grasp on him, letting her fingers comb through the hair at the nape of his neck.

Then she felt her stomach lurch, and her eyes clenched shut. “What’s wrong?” asked Eamon.

“My stomach … I feel sick.” She clutched her abdomen and wrinkled her nose.

“Let’s go then,” he said. “Everything’s finished anyway. I’ll take you back to your room.” She was staying at the ranch for the night. In fact, Hazel had convinced her to stay for a few days after the wedding. She’d agreed, since she didn’t know when she’d get time off again – she expected to start her new permanent position at the Brigham as soon as she returned to Boston.

Granted, since she still didn’t have anything in writing, so she could‘ve taken a longer vacation and gone to Florida, or even California or the Bahamas. But none of those places sounded inviting when traveling alone. In the past, she’d have asked Hazel to go with her, but now that was out, and even Jen had a boyfriend back in Atlanta – Chris something-or-other. She was the only one of the trio still flying solo.

She nodded to Eamon, and he put an arm around her waist. As they walked, she leaned on him, grateful for the support. She wasn’t entirely sure she could’ve made it on her own. It couldn’t just be the wine – she’d only had three glasses. She was exhausted as well. Through years of studying and working, her entire focus had been on her career, and she hadn’t relaxed, really relaxed since … she couldn’t remember when. High school? Maybe not even then.

They entered the ranch house and Eamon helped her down the long dark hallway, the music outside muted by the walls and drapery-covered windows. She stopped outside her bedroom and leaned against the door jamb, then turned to face Eamon with a grin. “Thank you, Mr. Williams. You’re quite the gentleman.”

He raised an eyebrow and scratched his chin. “Will you be all right? Can I get you anything … maybe a glass of water?”

“I’ve got water in my room, thanks.” He leaned closer and she caught her breath. He smelled of aftershave and barbecue sauce and a tremble ran through her body. “Eamon … I …”

He leaned in and kissed her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer. She trembled in his arms and closed her eyes. When he pulled away, she opened them and saw him rub his chin as he backed away. “I’m sorry, Emily. I shouldn’t have … I’m sorry.” He stumbled down the dark hallway and disappeared.

She covered her face with her hands and sighed. What had just happened? She went inside her room, closed the door and leaned against it, the rise and fall of her chest the only movement in the room. Then she ran her fingertips gently over her still-tingling tips. She hadn’t expected that, not from him – or rather, she had, but not his courtliness earlier. What did it mean? Did it mean anything? Did he kiss every woman he was attracted to? Was he intoxicated too?

Without switching on the overhead light, Emily felt her way across the room to the bed, kicked off her boots and lay down. Her entire body felt like lead. As her eyes drifted closed, the beat of the music outside reverberated through her tired brain. And when she slept, it was as though she might never wake.

* * *

Eamon Williams lifted a bale of hay onto his broad shoulders, carried it to the other side of the barn, dropped it onto the growing pile and brushed his hands together with a sigh. The cleanup from the wedding reception the night before was well underway, but the bales they’d used for seats were strewn all over the yard and around the outside of the barn.

He scratched absently at the straw poking through his shirt into his skin and stood with his hands on his hips to survey the damage. Parker, Mom and Hazel’s folks were picking up trash and tossing it into bags. People from the equipment rental company, all in black, were folding up tents and slipping covers off chairs, stacking them into the back of a large white truck with “Penton Party Rentals” painted on the sides in sloping red lettering.

Even with all that help, it would take all morning to tidy up the place before they could get to the regular work around the ranch. Dalton had left him in charge while he and Hazel were on their honeymoon in Destin, Florida. He’d seen the worry on Dalton’s face as he’d said his goodbyes, reminding Eamon and Parker about all that needed doing over the next two weeks, and Eamon didn’t intend to let his brother down. He wanted to show him he could be entrusted with the care of the ranch.

He went to pick up another bale and carry it back to the barn. The straw scratched at his neck again, making it itch.

His mind wandered back to the reception – the speeches, the dancing, the twinkle of stars in the black sky overhead. And that kiss. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. He’d kissed Hazel’s friend Emily from Boston. She’d barely said five words to him before last night, yet he’d found himself drawn to her. It was obvious she was smart and beautiful, but there was something else about her, an inner strength that intrigued him.

Still, he had a girlfriend. Sure, he hadn’t seen Penny in months – she’d come to see him once since he’d moved to Georgia almost a year ago, and he’d only been back to Chattanooga twice – and three visits in a year wasn’t really enough to build a relationship on. But they were still officially involved. He’d intended to break things off before moving south. But he hadn’t, and couldn’t bring himself to do it over the phone. And now there was Emily Zhu, the mysterious surgeon from Boston …

He took off his Stetson, ran a hand through his hair and set his hat back in place. Emily hadn’t shown her face yet this morning. He wondered if she still intended to stay at the ranch for a few days before returning home. If she did, perhaps he’d get a chance to talk to her about what’d happened. Though he wasn’t sure what to say.

Eamon gathered a strand of twinkle lights in his hands, looped it around his arm, then climbed the ladder to the loft and hung them on a peg in the wall. They used the loft to store food for the livestock, tack and other bits and pieces. Hazel had asked him to put the decorations away there until she had a chance to better organize them.

As he returned to the ladder, he heard a voice below. He squatted beside the ladder and stared over the edge of the loft. It was Emily – he could see her back. She was kneeling on the floor, murmuring to Lulu, the black cat who lived in the barn. Lulu circled her, tail raised as she rubbed against Emily’s legs. A line of kittens followed her, tumbling, playing and mewling as they went. Emily picked up one of the kittens, a gray one with white mittens, and held it to her chest, whispered in its ears and caressed its soft fur before setting it back on the ground.

The soft sound of Emily’s laughter warmed Eamon’s heart. He cleared his throat with a soft cough.

Emily spun to face him, her eyes wide. “Eamon. I didn’t see you there.” She stood and brushed the straw from her jeans.

He turned and backed down the ladder. “They’re cute, aren’t they?” He walked over to Lulu, squatting beside her to scratch her head. The cat purred in response and rubbed against his leg.

Emily chuckled. “And they know it.”

He smiled. “You can have one if you like. We’ve got to get rid of them anyway – can’t have a dozen cats running around the place. They’ll eat us out of house and home.”

Emily squatted beside him. “Me, own a cat? I can hardly take care of myself – I don’t think it would be wise for me to take on anything else. Anyway, my building manager wouldn’t be happy if I brought a pet into my apartment.” She stroked the gray kitten’s head, then picked up a black one and held it against her cheek. Her eyes narrowed and she smiled. “But they’re so beautiful, it’s very tempting.”

Eamon sat down on the barn floor and set his hat in the straw beside him. He picked up a tabby kitten and held it in his lap. Lulu soon followed, stepping daintily onto his leg and letting her claws extend, puncturing his jeans – and his thigh. He frowned and scratched behind her ears. “Okay there, Lulu, pull your claws back in girl. Ouch.”

Emily laughed. “Good girl, Lulu.” She reached out to pat the cat, but Eamon caught her hand and held it in his . His gaze met hers and a bolt of energy passed between them, making his heart pound.

Emily broke the connection. She pulled her hand back and looked at the ground. “Don’t.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

She frowned. “Because we barely know each other, and I’m leaving in a few days to go back to Boston.”

He rubbed his chin, the stubble scratching his palm. “Okay.”

She rose to her feet. “I’m sorry.”

He stood as well and put his hat back on with a frown. “Forget it.”

She lifted the black kitten and kissed its soft fur with a smile. “Goodbye, little one.”

He took a quick breath. “I meant it – you should keep the kitten. It could use a good home.”

“I’d love to.” She set the kitten down on the ground and watched it scamper off to join its brothers and sisters. They were playing with a rope that hung against the wall, the end of it trailing on the ground for little paws to bat. “But there’s just no way I can, living in an apartment like I do.”

“Yeah, I’m sure glad I gave that up.” Eamon set his hands on his hips. It felt awkward standing there, pretending nothing had passed between them. But it had – he’d felt it. And he’d never felt anything like it before – not with Penny, not with anyone.

Emily looked at him, her eyes guarded. “You lived in an apartment? I thought you were a cowboy through and through.”

He chuckled. “Nope. I’m an accountant, actually.”

She frowned, her brow creasing. “What? An accountant?”

He nodded. “But I left it all behind to help Dalton out with the ranch. He needed me, and I needed a change, so here I am.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek. She looked so beautiful standing there in the barn in her jeans and white T-shirt. A beam of sunlight caught her black hair, setting it alight with a golden glow. “How long do you think you’ll stick around for?” he continued, his heart in his throat.

“Well, Hazel suggested I stay a few days, since I haven’t had any time off work in … well, I’m not sure how long. Years, I guess. I don’t have to be back in Boston until next week. I hope it’s okay if I stay a little while – I promise I’ll keep out of the way.” She pushed her hair behind her ears and squinted into the morning sunlight.

He swallowed hard. “Yeah, of course – stay as long as you like. There’s plenty of room.”

“Thank you.”

“Well … I’d best get back to work.”

“Can I help with anything?” She lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the glare.

Eamon tipped his head to one side. “I’m sure there’s plenty to do. I think Hazel’s mom Anne is coordinating it all.”

“Okay, I’ll ask her.” She half-smiled, turned and walked away.

He watched her go, rubbed his eyes and groaned inwardly. He’d never felt so flustered around a woman in his life, and it only seemed to grow in intensity the more he got to know her. He was usually so smooth, so confident. What was wrong with him?

Shaking his head, Eamon went to fetch another bale of hay. If Emily was staying at the ranch for three more days, he’d best get used to feeling out of his depth.

Chapter 3

Emily rocked the porch swing back and forth, her legs crossed at the ankles in front of her. She straightened them out, lifted one foot to tuck it beneath herself and leaned against the back of the seat. The sun was setting behind the barn, and the colors that illuminated the sky made her heart ache.

She’d been there two days and all the other guests had left the ranch. It was quiet now, with Eamon and Parker out working on something or other. She was all alone at the house and felt as though she could really breathe. She did, filling her lungs with the fresh country air, then exhaling slowly.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d sat and watched the sun set. She’d seen plenty of sunrises, mostly in the car on her way to work, but never had the time to appreciate them. More often than not, she’d simply grunt in frustration at the glare that made driving more difficult. But this sunset truly was beautiful in all the clichéd ways it could possibly be. It filled her heart with a peace she hadn’t felt in a long time.

She’d let work consume her, and before that, her studies. Whatever it took to succeed, that’s where her focus had always landed. It was what she had to do – she was a Zhu, and the Zhu family always succeeded. If she didn’t try hard enough, there was the shame and guilt that her father and mother heaped on to help push her back into line. No doubt her grandparents had done the same thing to them; it was a proud family tradition, one she’d had no intention of upsetting.

Until now. Now she was tired. She’d worked at full capacity for so long, she wasn’t entirely sure what rest felt like. She knew sitting curled up on a porch swing was a good start, but it wasn’t enough. She let her eyes drift closed and leaned her head back until it rested on the back of the swing.

Where was that email the HR manager had promised her from the Brigham? She’d worked there for two years as an intern, then a surgical resident. And her boss had offered her a permanent position there as a general surgeon. “We’re thrilled to have you on the team,” he’d said the last time they met. “We’ll get the paperwork started … just a formality, really. There’s no one else we’d rather work with.”

So where was that pesky contract? It needed her signature to make it official, and from what she understood she was supposed to be starting in the new position in seven days, next Monday. Yet here she was, waiting. Everyone else from her program had joined hospitals all over the country.

Her father kept asking her if she’d signed on the dotted line yet. She recognized the look in his eyes: worry and shame. Shame that his daughter hadn’t been scooped up by the best hospital in the country, like he had when he’d completed his surgical residency. She’d disappointed him again. But then, she was used to that – she’d done it her whole life.

She’d already turned down offers from Emory in Atlanta, Northwestern in Chicago and UCLA/Reagan in California. Maybe she shouldn’t have dismissed them so quickly, but she loved working at the Brigham. And she loved general surgery – the variety, the challenge, the interactions with the patients.

But of course her father the world-renowned neurosurgeon wasn’t impressed. Dr. Ang Zhu expected more from his only daughter. “General?” he’d asked, as if he hadn’t quite heard her. “You’re choosing general surgery? Why not just become a chiropractor?” He’d sniffed and stalked out of the room. And she’d felt small and hollow inside.

Never mind – she’d show him. General surgery was a respectable field. And to be a good general surgeon was something anyone would be proud of. At least, that’s what she tried to tell herself. But it wasn’t quite true. It was something anyone would be proud of … except her father.

She sighed and swung her feet back down against the hard boards. She should relax – she was on vacation. Who knew when she’d next get the opportunity? Perhaps she should take a walk, or a nap … no, it was probably too late for a nap. Maybe she should drive into town and find a restaurant, since it was almost dinnertime. She could buy a tub of ice cream as well, really spoil herself.

A buzz in her back pocket made her jump. She pulled out the phone and checked the screen. It was a text from Hazel: “Em, try to enjoy yourself at the ranch. RELAX, okay?”

She chuckled. Hazel knew her so well. Too well.

She replied and was about to tuck the phone back into her pocket when a thought occurred to her. Why not call the hospital and ask about the contract? The HR manager had said she’d send it through, yet it hadn’t come. There could be a mix-up somewhere along the line, and if she didn’t bring it to their attention they might never realize it.

She frowned and chewed her bottom lip, then quickly dialed the hospital number. “Yes, can I speak to Milton Andrews please?” Her boss would likely be hunched over a pile of paperwork this time of day. His desk seemed to breed the stuff throughout the workday, and he never got home before nine o’clock. She had no desire to be a chief of surgery – she wanted to do surgery, not administrative work.

“Yes, this is Dr. Andrews.”

“Dr. Andrews – Emily Zhu. How are you, sir?” She did her best to smile, even as her heart hammered against her ribs.

“Emily, how nice to hear from you. Are you back in town?”

She laughed. “No, not yet – still down south, I’m afraid.”

“And how was the wedding?”

“Lovely, thank you.”

“Good. Glad to hear it.”

She could hear the rustle of papers – she was losing his interest. “Actually, sir, I was calling to ask you about my contract. I haven’t received it from HR yet and I’m supposed to start in about a week. Just wondering if I should call HR myself …?”

Andrews cleared his throat. “Hmmm … ah, no. No need to do that. I thought they’d called you.”

“No.” Her hand trembled, and she switched the phone to her other ear.

“Yes, well, I’m afraid that position has been filled. I’m sorry about that, Emily. Hopefully you can take one of the many other wonderful offers I’m sure you’ve received. You’re a solid surgeon and we’ll miss having you on the team.”

She took a deep breath, the air burning inside her lungs. “Filled … what do you mean? By whom?” Her voice sounded lost in the wide-open space of the ranch.

“Ah, well, actually, it was Ben Hudson.” Andrews’ voice was strained and he cleared his throat again. “You know, the head of cardio, Sam Hudson? His son.”

“Dr. Hudson’s son? Wow. Okay. I didn’t even know he’d applied.” Her head felt light and she swallowed hard.

“Yes, well, he fit all the criteria. So … anyway, we wish you all the best. Don’t hesitate to call if you need a referral.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. She wanted to scream. But she knew it wouldn’t help. Instead she wrapped up the call as quickly as she could and slumped on the porch swing, her body flaring with angry adrenaline.

How could this have happened? She hadn’t even given much thought to her interview, since it had been with people she considered friends and colleagues. Had she not prepared adequately? Had she taken it too much for granted? But everyone, including Dr. Andrews, had assured her the job was hers. Only clearly it wasn’t.

Emily slapped her forehead and her eyes widened. Now what would she do? She’d been afraid something like this might happen, especially when she’d turned down the final offer from UCLA/Reagan. She’d been promised. She’d never suspected those promises would be broken so easily.

She stood slowly and stumbled over to the porch railing, which she gripped white-knuckled to steady herself. Now what?

She hurried down the front steps. A walk – that’s what she needed. After all, she was supposed to be relaxing. It’s what vacations were all about. She exercised all the time at the hospital gym, but that was different – that was feet pounding a treadmill while she stared at a whitewashed wall or the news on her phone screen or the latest issue of the Journal of the AMA. It wasn’t a wander down a country lane, savoring the landscape and beauty all around her.

With quick steps, she set off down the long, winding driveway, only to trip on a rock and almost land on her hands and knees. She saved herself just in time, but a sob escaped and she clamped a hand over her mouth.

Now what? That question wasn’t going away.

She gulped the sob back down and frowned. She was being ridiculous. This wasn’t a catastrophe. Flooding in India, or a mother losing her child to a preventable disease, or a tree branch landing on a father on his way home from work during a storm – those were things worth crying over. This wasn’t. She’d work it out. It’d be fine. If all else failed, she could ask Father to intervene, call in a favor. No doubt that’s what Ben Hudson had done, destroying her hopes in the process.

No. She didn’t want to be like Ben Hudson and ruin someone else’s dreams. And who knew, maybe he really was the best person for the job.

Emily took a long, deep breath, filling her lungs to bursting. She closed her eyes tight, then slowly exhaled. She’d work it out. It’d be fine.

When she opened her eyes, a horse stood in front of her on the other side of a white paling fence. It looked at her with wide brown eyes, flicked its ears and stepped closer. Then whinnied, its muzzle quivering.

She cocked her head, examining the animal. It was a stunning creature, dark brown all over with a black mane and tail. It was quite tall and its coat shone in the golden afternoon light. “Hello there.” She stepped forward and stretched a hand through the fence toward it, her pulse racing. The animal nudged her hand with its nose, then looked immediately bored and turned away. No doubt it was hoping for a treat, but she didn’t have anything edible on her except a pack of breath mints, and she didn’t think a horse would appreciate those.

“I’ll bet no one ever stole your job out from under you,” she whispered, leaning against the fence and stepping up onto the bottom paling to drape her arms over the top. She watched him graze beside her, admiring the muscular curve of his neck and the way his lips grabbed at the grass and pulled.

She stepped down and continued along the driveway, heading away from the ranch. She could see Eamon and Parker in the distance. Eamon’s pickup was parked on the grass, and he appeared to be hammering something while Parker fussed with the fence. A black dog followed them back and forth wherever they went.

Her heart skipped a beat as she watched Eamon. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and she could see the outline of sweat around the neck of the checked shirt. His jeans fit a little too tight and his cowboy hat and boots had seen better days. His sun-bronzed skin almost glowed under the changing light of the setting sun. She felt her cheeks warm and her lips tingle at the memory of their kiss.

She ducked her head and continued on her way. A group of foals frolicked alongside the driveway in yet another field, dashing between their mothers. A chestnut foal nipped at a bay one, while a black one kicked up its heels with a snort. She laughed out loud and stopped a moment to watch them. They were so innocent, so full of life and energy. She missed feeling that way. She’d felt it briefly as a child, until the pressures of school – and her parents’ expectations – landed on her small, thin shoulders.

Then she’d bowed to the altar of achievement and never looked back. She’d done everything right, everything she’d been told to. She’d studied hard, gotten good grades, won a place at the University of Georgia, then Harvard Medical, then the coveted internship at the Brigham. And now … now what?

Yes, she’d likely be able to apply again during the next round, or maybe even get something sooner. But the bloom had worn off the rose. She was exhausted. And when did it end? When did she get to stop running on the treadmill and look back on what she’d achieved with a sense of satisfaction?

She sighed, then turned to walk back toward the house. She knew what she should do next – send out resumes and hope for the best. Maybe someone would still have an opening. She just hoped it wasn’t too late. In the meantime, she’d have to tell her parents what had happened.

She dreaded hearing what they’d say. Father would be blunt, telling her exactly where she’d gone wrong, and how it would impact her career and life forever. Mother would passive-aggressively comment on her friends’ or cousins’ successes while carrying an injured look on her round face that insinuated a great tragedy had befallen the family. She grimaced and wrapped her arms around herself. Well, she wouldn’t put up with it this time. She’d done nothing wrong – the system had failed, not her.

Perhaps she wouldn’t even call them … at least not immediately. She sighed as a weight lifted. Yes, she’d enjoy her vacation, and worry about the future and what her parents might venture to say on the subject later.

Wrinkling her nose, she started to jog. The ground was uneven, and her knees bumped against each other. She chuckled at how uncoordinated she no doubt looked from the outside, but what did it matter? There was no one there to see her. And anyway, it was high time she gave up caring so much about other people’s opinions.

With a whoop, she accelerated her pace until she was sprinting along the driveway. A group of chickens flapped their wings and ran from her path with loud squawks, startled by her sudden burst of speed. She laughed and turned to watch their bobbing heads and disgruntled cries, just as her shoe hit a stone in the path. Her right knee bent awkwardly and her ankle twisted. She fell in a heap on the driveway, clutching her ankle with both hands.

Pain shot up her leg, and she gasped. She hadn’t heard a snap and didn’t think from the angle of her fall that she was likely to have broken anything. She bit her lip and palpated the ankle and foot, searching for anything out of place. She groaned as she discovered a tender spot just beneath the ankle bone. Likely she’d just strained a tendon. She tried to stand, but cried out with the pain as it flared up the moment she put weight on her right foot.

The pounding of footsteps on the driveway made her look up in surprise. She squinted into the glow of the sun and saw Eamon heading her way. He stopped and knelt beside her. “You okay?” he asked, his blue eyes compassionate.

She nodded. “Yeah, I think I just sprained my ankle. I’ll be fine.”

The dog nudged her with its nose, then stepped back to study her, panting hard. Eamon chuckled. “Sorry, that’s Harley. He’s Hazel’s dog, but since she’s away he’s taken to following me around. He’s harmless.” He rested a hand on her arm. “Let me help you.”

Her skin tingled beneath his work-worn palm. Why did he have to be so hot? She’d made up her mind to steer clear of him, but here he was, making her quiver with just one touch. She’d never met anyone like him before. All the doctors, nurses and physiotherapists she’d dated in the past were good men – intelligent, committed to their work. Good matches. But they’d never made her feel like her heart might burst from her chest if they came any closer, like Eamon did. “Um … no need. I’m sure I can limp back to the house.”

He grinned, the lines at the corners of his mouth deepening and his eyes sparkling. He always seemed to be laughing at her, in a teasing kind of way. “Okay. Well, I’m here if you need me.” Even his voice made her pulse race.

Her eyes closed, she tried to stand again … and the pain landed her on her rear, grimacing. “Yeah, I think I do need you, actually,” she replied, gritting her teeth at more than just the pain.

Eamon quirked an eyebrow. “Seems like you’ve hurt it pretty bad. Here, lean on me.”

With a long, slow breath she looped an arm around Eamon’s neck. When she stood, he stood with her, bearing the brunt of her weight on his shoulders. She hobbled forward on her left foot, the right one lifted just off the ground.

“You always like to be in control, huh?”

His question caught her off-guard. “What?”

“You didn’t want me to help you. You act like touching me is the same as touching a leper. You don’t like needing anyone, is that it? Or do you just dislike me specifically?” His eyes were narrowed, the earlier light-hearted banter gone.

“Well, you just have me all figured out, don’t you?” she snapped, hobbling forward with more resolution than before.

He frowned. “Sorry. I guess it’s a sensitive subject.”

They stopped at the foot of the stairs leading up to the porch. She loosened her grip on him and took hold of the railing with both hands, her cheeks burning. “It’s not a sensitive subject – I just don’t like when arrogant cowboys think so highly of themselves that they believe their own press! Just because you’re sexy and tanned and everyone loves you, you think you know everything. It ticks me off, that’s all …”

Eamon’s grin widened with each word from her mouth. She frowned, her eyes widening in anger, then turned and hopped up the stairs, pulling herself forward using the handrail. His laughter behind her spurred her on, and she muttered under her breath the entire way down the hall until she slammed the bedroom door shut behind her and collapsed onto the bed with a sigh.

Okay, perhaps she’d overreacted just a little bit. She was already so upset by the news about her job at the Brigham that she’d found herself in a rage before she even realized it was coming. She rubbed her eyes and groaned. What would he think of her now? She’d just made an absolute fool of herself over one little comment, as though she couldn’t handle criticism. She sighed again and stared at the chipped paint on the ceiling above the bed.

There was a knock at the door. She sat up, her eyes wide, and smoothed her hair back into place. “Yes?”

The door opened. Eamon leaned against the jamb with that mischievous look on his face that never entirely went away. He flashed his dimples at her, then stepped into the room, holding his hands out in front of him. He held a bag of ice and an elastic bandage. “I come in peace,” he said with a chuckle. “I thought you might need a bit of first aid.”

She rolled her eyes and took a long, slow breath. “Thank you. After the way I yelled at you, I’m surprised you’re even speaking to me.”

“Is that an apology?”

She took the ice bag from him and pressed it to her ankle. “Yes, I suppose it is. Though, you did start it.” She grinned and blushed as she met his gaze, then quickly returned her attention to ministering to her rapidly swelling ankle.

“You’re right. I’m sorry as well – I shouldn’t have said you were controlling. I mean, clearly you’re nothing of the kind.” He frowned and folded his arms.

Her eyes narrowed as she studied his face. Was that his attempt at sarcasm? It sounded like it, but his expression seemed sincere. “I’m not. I’m just … independent. Thanks for the ice and bandage.”

“You’re welcome.” He came closer and squatted beside the bed, laying a palm on her ankle and covering her hand as it held the ice bag. “You sure you’ll be all right?” His voice was soft, caressing and his eyes locked on hers.

“Yes, of course. I’m a doctor, after all …”

He laughed. “Yes, you are. But, even doctors need help now and then.” He stood and walked out, but as he was closing the door, he winked at her.

Emily’s heart leaped into her throat. It was about time she went back to Boston, or else she might find herself in serious danger of falling for a cowboy from Georgia. She couldn’t even imagine what her parents would have to say about that.

Chapter 4

Eamon parked the tractor, turned it off and jumped to the grass below. He was finally done slashing hay. Dalton had decided to rotate grazing fields, leaving some to rest. He grew crops in a few of them and left others alone, giving them a chance to refresh for when the herd rotated back into them. Parker was still gathering the hay into stacks and would ride the three wheeler back while Eamon finished up with the chores in the barn.

With Dalton gone, there was plenty to do around the place: chickens, hogs, cats and dogs to feed; foals to tend to; expectant mares to check on. And even though he was tired, Eamon felt exhilarated. A year earlier he’d been a bored accountant in a high-rise in Chattanooga. Now, he was helping run a large working ranch that he and his brothers hoped would soon be one of the most successful horse ranches in Georgia.

He finished up feeding the foals and their mothers sheltering in the stables, then wandered back to the house. He was proud of what they’d achieved with the Cotton Tree Ranch – and of himself for managing while Dalton was away. He knew how nervous his brother had been over leaving he and Parker in charge, but already they were showing they were fully capable of doing what needed to be done.

He took off his hat and paused on the front steps, still unable to get the conversation with Emily earlier that day out of his mind. She’d been clear about the disdain she felt for him. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve it – perhaps it was that kiss after the wedding. Well, he couldn’t take it back now, and in all honesty, he didn’t want to. She might regret what happened, but he hadn’t been able to think about much else while driving the tractor up and down the field.

It was a sign of the effect it had that the day after the wedding, he’d called Penny and ended things between them. Finally. He didn’t think it right to have one woman invading his thoughts while he was still tied to another. Penny had taken it well – she told him she was just on her way out the door with Jed, his childhood best friend. Not that he could blame her – he should’ve known she wouldn’t wait around for him to come back. He only wished he – or she – had broken it off sooner.

But even without Penny, it still didn’t make sense for him to pine over Emily Zhu. She was leaving for Boston soon, and he’d likely never see her again.

Hmmm … when was she leaving? He’d expected her to be gone already. She didn’t seem to be enjoying herself all that much at the ranch, so she’d probably leave sooner rather than later. He’d been under strict instructions from Hazel to take care of her friend and make sure she relaxed and had a good time, but it sure was difficult with her tendency to keep people at arm’s length.

He grimaced, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Well, there was nothing for it now but to go inside and face her. He took off his muddy boots and padded inside in his socks.

The drapes were drawn over the windows, leaving the living room in darkness save for the flash of the widescreen television Dalton had hung on the wall soon after he’d arrived. The house might be in dire need of a paint job, but he’d sure wasted no time investing in a state-of-the-art TV. Eamon grinned. There were some things the brothers agreed on without need for a discussion, and a good screen for watching sports was one of them.

When his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw Emily curled up on the couch, her cheek against the cushioned arm. She wore frayed jean shorts, a pink T-shirt, and the Ace bandage he’d given her wrapped tightly around her ankle. Her shiny black hair was pulled into a messy topknot, and instead of her usual frown, she looked relaxed, rested – cute, even.

His eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms over his thick chest. She seemed very comfortable there and he hated to disturb her. He grinned as she laughed at something on the screen, and even from across the room he could see the gleam of unshed tears in her eyes. He raised an eyebrow. What was she watching that would make her react like that?

He shifted to see the screen – it was a Friends rerun, apparently the one where Monica and Chandler were married. He loved the show himself, though he’d never admit that to anyone. His brothers wouldn’t let him live it down. What he couldn’t comprehend was how a hardened surgeon with a perpetual scowl could be laughing and crying over a decade-old rerun. She must be softer than she let on. His heart warmed as she rubbed her eyes, then wiped her cheeks with her fingertips.

A bang from the kitchen pulled her from her reverie, and she sat up with a gasp when she spotted Eamon watching her. He waved one hand and offered her a half-smile. “Friends, huh?” He wandered over to the couch and sat beside her.

In reaction she pulled her feet in, tucking them beneath herself. She ran her hand over her cheeks again, seeming embarrassed by their dampness. “Yeah, I can’t help it. It’s still the best show of all time, but it’s been so long since I’ve seen an episode. There’s a marathon on today, and since I can’t really get around, I thought I’d just sit and watch. I hope that’s okay.”

She looked so vulnerable, with her moist brown eyes trained on him. “Of course. Mi casa es su casa, or something like that.”

She laughed, and the sound warmed his heart. “Thanks.”

Eamon grimaced. “So Parker’s cooking in there, is he?”

“Yep.”

He chuckled and rubbed his stubbled chin. “Oh. We may be ordering in, then.” She smiled and let her legs relax, resting her feet against the side of his thigh. He liked how it felt, and gently laid a hand on her good foot. “How’s the ankle?”

She didn’t shrink away, but met his gaze. “It’s sore, but I think it’ll be okay. Thanks for asking.”

“Are you heading back to Boston day after tomorrow?”

Her eyes clouded over and the frown returned. “Um … I suppose. Do you mind driving me to the airport?”

He wondered what her reaction was about – was she upset he’d asked about her plans, or about the trip itself? Either way, he was curious. He wanted to know everything about her – especially why she’d stayed behind after the wedding. She didn’t really know he or Parker, she wasn’t from the area, and she had a big fancy surgeon’s job up in Boston. No doubt she could afford to vacation anywhere she wanted. It seemed odd that she’d stay with strangers on a horse ranch.

But what did he know – when was the last vacation he’d taken? He really should think about having some time off when Dalton got back.

This was the first vacation Dalton had taken since he’d inherited the ranch. Eamon had teased Dalton before they left, saying they’d run out of things to do spending three weeks in a sleepy beachside town like Destin, Florida. With a wink, Dalton had assured him they’d manage somehow.

He grinned at the memory. He certainly envied his brother the opportunity to spend time in a beachside resort with the woman he loved. It sounded like paradise to him. Eamon had been a confirmed bachelor before he moved to Georgia – dating casually all over Chattanooga. He always told his brothers that he didn’t have a type, all women were beautiful in his eyes, so he intended to spend time with as many as he could. Then he’d met Penny, and tried to make it work. But deep down he’d always known it wouldn’t.

But over the last year with Dalton and Hazel at the ranch, Eamon had come to appreciate what they had – much more than the simple attraction he usually felt for the women he dated. They had a partnership, chemistry, love – they were a team. He wanted that, wanted a soulmate to spend his life with. The thought almost made him laugh out loud – he’d never considered himself such a romantic. Who’d have thought Eamon Williams would be looking for true love?

Another clang in the kitchen made his eyes narrow. “Um … I think I should check on Parker before he burns the place down.” Reluctantly he stood, his hand still tingling from her touch.

She nodded and turned back to face the TV screen.

Eamon took a slow breath as he traced the outline of her profile with his eyes. True love might be real, or it might not – he still hadn’t decided one way or the other on that matter. But if it was real and it was something he could aim for, he sure would do his best to find it.

* * *

Emily’s eyebrows rose as banging and laughter emanated from the kitchen. Ever since Eamon went in there, it had sounded like the brothers had joined the circus and were rehearsing their act rather than preparing a meal.

Eamon’s head popped through the swinging door. “Supper’s ready,” he announced with a grin. A dish towel was slung over his shoulder and the front of his shirt was spattered with something red. She hoped it wasn’t blood.

She lurched to her feet with a groan. “Everything okay in there?”

“Yep. All good.” He hurried to help her, slipping his arm around her waist and sending a flash of electricity through her.

With a good deal of hobbling she made it to the kitchen table and sat down, setting her wounded ankle in front of her with a grimace. “So what’s all the noise been about?” she asked, eying the messy kitchen with suspicion.

Parker hurried toward her with a bowl, his face flecked with what looked like tomato juice. “I made Brunswick stew,” he said. He placed the bowl in front of her with a flourish.

“Oh? What’s Brunswick stew?”

“It’s a Southern dish,” Eamon explained. “You never had it when you lived in Athens?”

“No. I didn’t … I mostly stuck to the college basics. You know, pizza, Chinese food, burgers, sushi.”

“Well, you’re in for a treat. Brunswick stew is a Southern specialty you have to try at least once in your life,” said Eamon.

“Well, it’s my first attempt, so don’t let it put you off trying the good stuff,” added Parker, his hands on his hips and eyes glowing. “There’s a joint down town called Oinkers – we’ll have to take you there for the all-you-can-eat ribs before you fly home.”

Emily studied the bowl of what looked like some kind of meat, corn, onion and tomatoes all mixed together. “Thank you.”

Parker nodded and returned to the counter to get stew for himself and Eamon, then set their bowls on the table and hurried to open the oven with a mitt.

“What’s that?” asked Emily.

“Cornbread.”

“Did you get jalapeños?” asked Eamon.

Parker nodded. “In the fridge.”

“Jalapeños?” Emily couldn’t imagine how they might compliment stew and cornbread.

Eamon grinned, his dimples deepening and eyes sparkling with mischief. “Of course. Jalapeños make everything better.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “Shoot, could you guys get any more masculine?” she asked with a chuckle.

Eamon leaned forward, his eyes flashing. “I’m sure I could arrange for a demonstration.”

“Now, Eamon, behave yourself,” admonished Parker, setting the jar of jalapeños on the table. “Don’t mind him, Emily. He was raised by a wonderful Southern lady, but never seemed to learn any manners.”

Eamon sniffed and set his elbows on the table. “I’ve got manners coming out my –”

“Would you look at the time?” interrupted Parker. “I guess we’d better bless this food and get to eatin’.”

Eamon tipped his head to the side, studying her and her cheeks warmed. She wasn’t going to let him intimidate her. She returned his stare with confidence, only betrayed by her ever-reddening cheeks. Finally, he grinned and broke their connection to close his eyes. “Father in Heaven, thank You for this food and company. Thank You for the cook, and we pray Your protection and blessings over Dalton and Hazel. In Your holy name, amen.”

Emily watched him throughout the prayer, her eyes widening. She hadn’t realized Eamon had a faith, though she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised – they were in the Bible Belt, after all. When it was over, she took her first taste of the stew. It was too hot to discern any flavors, but the second sip danced across her taste buds, awakening them with vigor, and she grinned. “It’s delicious, Parker.”

He smiled and offered her the cornbread. “Try it with some of this.”

She took a piece and watched Parker dunked his in his stew. She followed his example, bit off a piece, and her eyes widened. It was earthy and tasty and comforting at the same time.

“Sure was a hot one today,” said Eamon, turning to Parker. “We’ll have to check on the new foals and their mommas in the barn, make sure they have enough water to last through the night before we turn in.”

Parker nodded. “Yep. Summer has definitely arrived.”

“Thank goodness for air conditioning,” added Emily, dunking her cornbread in her stew again.

Eamon and Parker nodded their agreement, both chewing thoughtfully. “Hey bro, don’t forget the vet is coming in a couple days to check out the new foals,” Parker continued.

“I know, I know. Dalton reminded me three times as well.”

Parker chuckled. “He sure seems convinced we’re gonna destroy the place while he’s gone. Doesn’t seem to have much confidence in our abilities.”

Eamon raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. Well, let’s just make sure we do everything even better than he would’ve if he was here. The last thing we need is for him to come back sayin’ I told you so. We can run this ranch – I mean, heck, we’ve been here a year already. It’s about time he trusted us with it.”

Just then, the usual whir of the air conditioning fell silent. “What just happened?” asked Parker, looking toward the ceiling.

Eamon frowned. “That was the HVAC. Dalton said it was on its last legs, and I guess that was its final breath. Must have heard us say its name and gave up the ghost.” He continued to eat, seeming unfazed.

Emily frowned in puzzlement. What was he saying?

“So no more air, then?” asked Parker with a shrug.

“No more air,” replied Eamon. He grinned at Emily, then reached for another piece of cornbread.

“For how long?” she asked, her eyes widening. The thought of spending a swampy Georgia summer day without A/C on top of everything was almost too much.

“I guess until this number cruncher figures out how to fix it,” replied Parker with a chuckle, jerking a thumb at Eamon.

“Is the HVAC that big gray boxy thing by the back door?” asked Eamon, his brow furrowed.

“What?” gasped Emily.

Parker dramatically slapped a hand to his forehead. “We’re doomed.”

But Eamon laughed. “Just kidding.”

Chapter 5

Emily tossed and turned on top of her covers, sweat running down her face onto her already-damp pillow. She’d barely slept a wink all night, it had been so hot. Humidity was a killer in south Georgia – she’d only managed it so far by mostly staying inside the house. But with the A/C broken, she was experiencing the full effects – nothing between her and 96% humidity. Ugh.

She groaned and sat up on the edge of the bed, her ankle throbbing when her foot touched the ground. She’d had no Tylenol since the previous afternoon, and she could feel it. But it didn’t hurt too badly, so she knew the swelling and bruising would go down soon enough and that she hadn’t done any long-term damage. Much to her relief – since surgeons had to spend hours a day on their feet. An ankle injury could cause no end of pain and discomfort in her field.

She dressed slowly, grimacing as she pulled on a pair of khaki shorts. Her entire body was coated in sweat – perhaps she should take a cold shower after breakfast. She’d had one before bed, and it seemed to be the only way to beat the heat – that and ice cold drinks on the porch when there was a hint of a breeze, which was rarely.

A glance at her laptop on top of the bureau beside the bed reminded her of her jobless state. She really should spend the day sending out resumes, perhaps somewhere in town with some air conditioning. Maybe she’d even purchase that tub of ice cream she’d been craving.

She brushed her hair, massaging her weary scalp with each stroke. It felt good to take her time with small tasks – she hadn’t done that in so long. Even brushing her hair had been a rush, usually pulling it out of the way into a tight ponytail. It was getting long, almost to her waist, since she rarely visited the hairdresser.

She stood and limped down the hall and into the kitchen. Eamon and Parker were already there, empty cereal bowls in front of them. Both had iPads in their hands, and Eamon’s feet were resting on the chair across from him. He saw her and sat up straight, setting his feet back on the ground with a grin. “Mornin’. How’d you sleep?”

She grunted and headed for the coffeepot.

“That good, huh?” asked Parker, with a chuckle.

“It’s just so stifling,” she complained as she poured herself a cup. She was going to need caffeine.

“Welcome to the South,” murmured Eamon, using a finger to scroll through whatever he was reading.

“Did you hear about the earthquake out in California?” asked Parker, setting his iPad on the table.

“Yeah – not too bad, I guess,” Eamon replied. “Doesn’t seem like anyone was hurt. ‘Course, the wildfires around L.A. can’t help the situation.”

Parker shook his head. “Why anyone would live in California is beyond me.”

“Nicer weather,” Emily grumbled, reaching into the freezer to grab a few ice cubes for her coffee – there was no way she could drink it hot. If the brothers didn’t get the A/C fixed soon, she might be tempted to crawl into the freezer herself.

* * *

Eamon turned the key, and the pickup’s engine rumbled to life. He set his hat on the center console and secured his seat belt, then turned to look over his shoulder, preparing to reverse. He jumped at the sound of a bang on the hood, and threw the truck back into park with a frown. “What the …?”

Emily came to his window with a smile that made his heart skip. “Where are you going?”

His eyebrows lowered. “Just into town to get a few things.”

“Can I come?” She hobbled around the front of the truck and opened the passenger door, sliding onto the seat before he could respond.

“Uh … okay. What exactly do you plan on doing in Tifton?” He waited while she buckled her seatbelt, then resumed his reverse turn onto the long driveway.

“Buy some ice cream. Plus I have to get out of that house – I’m going stir crazy. I never stay in one place that long, ever! Back in Boston, I went to work every day, and on my days off I went out with my running group, had coffee with friends, or attended conferences and seminars. I mean, I’ve been sitting around for four days now, and with my ankle the way it is I can’t even go for a run. I have to do something! Not to mention this heat – I’m dying.” She screwed up her face, her nose wrinkling.

He chuckled. “All right, then – ice cream it is. We can’t have you losing your mind. Hazel would kill me.” He was silent for a moment, watching her squirm. She glanced at him twice, then looked away with a sigh both times. What was going on with her?

Just as he was about to ask, she leaned forward and flicked on the radio. She fiddled around, switching between stations until she found one playing experimental jazz. To Eamon, it sounded like a bunch of instruments being thrown against the wall, but she laid her head back on the headrest and closed her eyes, a smile lingering on her full lips. He raised an eyebrow as a saxophone leaped between notes, seeming to hit every one but the the right ones. This was how she relaxed? No wonder she was so tense.

“You like this stuff?”

She glanced at him, then nodded as her eyes drifted shut again. “Yep. Isn’t it amazing?”

“It’s … wow,” he responded. “But if you really want to relax, you should try something like this.” He switched to his favorite radio station, Hometown Country 107.5, and cranked up the volume. The sound of a banjo filled the truck.

Her eyes flew open and she clamped her hands over her ears. “Argh – too loud!” She reached for the volume and dialed it down.

Eamon laughed and winked. “Now, that’s music.” They halted at a four-way stop, and he grinned when he saw Emily bobbing her head along to Keith Urban. He pushed his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose – even with the air conditioning in the truck blasting, it wasn’t exactly cool.

Up ahead he saw the faded sign of Clancy’s Bar, a few dusty cars already littering the gravel parking lot. Emily straightened in her seat and peered at it as they rolled past. “What’s that place?”

“Clancy’s, the local dive bar. Good crab legs, though.” He combed his fingers through his hair, feeling the sweat soaking his scalp.

“Stop! Let’s go there – I need a drink.”

He frowned. “Isn’t it a little early for a drink? Besides, I thought you wanted ice cream.”

“No, it’s the perfect time for a drink, actually. Maybe I’ll see if they have some ice cream to float in it.” She laughed.

He thought he heard an edge of hysteria in her voice, and didn’t want to be the one to send her over the edge. Whatever was on her mind, maybe she just needed a chance to cut loose a bit. “Okay – we’ll stop, then.” He pulled over to the side of the road, then U-turned and drove back to the bar.

He parked the car, studying Emily’s face with concern. What was she so worked up about? He didn’t know her well yet, but he’d spent enough time with her to recognize when something was on her mind. Hazel said she was usually very calm, collected and driven, a surgeon who never let anything stand in the way of her success. So why was she still hanging around the ranch with no sign of leaving?

He put on his hat, stepped out of the cab and hurried around to her side of the truck. She’d already opened the door by the time he reached it, but he took the handle and pulled it all the way open anyway. “Howdy, ma’am.” He touched his hat brim and grinned.

She raised an eyebrow and frowned. “I’m perfectly capable of getting out of a truck on my own.”

His eyes narrowed. “I know, but this is the South. Down here we’re expected to act like gentleman and treat ladies with deference. It’s not an insult, it’s a sign of respect.” He offered her his hand, and she hesitated but took it. As he helped her from the truck, he noticed she flinched when her tender ankle touched down, and she kept her hand in the crook of his arm as they walked up the stairs and into Clancy’s.

When they were seated at a booth, Eamon set his hat on the table, reached for a bowl of peanuts and cracked one open as he scanned the room. It was almost empty, of course – it wasn’t even close to noon yet.

He noticed Emily studying him intently. “I’m sorry,” she finally said, leaning back against the cushion behind her and crossing her arms. “I’m not used to men being gentlemen. Not just because I’m from up North, but because I’ve always worked hard, so the men I usually meet are colleagues. I also grew up in a Chinese-American household, and our culture is very different. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

He nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate the apology, and the explanation. Seems society doesn’t want us men to be ourselves anymore. There’s little room left in the world for cowboys these days.”

Her eyes softened and she leaned forward, setting her hands on the table near his. “Well, if you ask me, the world would be a better place if there were more cowboys in it.” She almost whispered the words and he felt his heart slam against his ribs.

The waitress, a woman with a short black pageboy and a nose ring, sniffed beside them. She held a notebook in one hand, her pencil poised above it. “What can I getcha?”

Eamon bit his lip. “Um … Coors in a bottle, please.”

The woman turned to Emily with bored disdain. “And you?”

Emily’s eyebrow arched. “Can I get a Beefeater martini?”

Eamon shook his head, suppressing a grin. The waitress sighed heavily.

Emily nodded. “Got it. I’ll have a Bud Light, then.”

The woman turned without a word and disappeared toward the bar, where the bartender stood polishing empty glasses with a towel. “Well, she was a barrel of laughs,” said Eamon with a chuckle.

“My goodness – imagine if I’d asked for a Cosmo or a Long Island iced tea.” Emily laughed – and in that moment she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her face lit up and the worry disappeared from behind her eyes.

But by the time their drinks arrived, the anxiety was back, hooded behind a facade of cool. Eamon recognized it now – she couldn’t hide it from him, not anymore. He took a swig of beer, reached for her hand and held it as he watched as her cheeks flushed. He softly stroked the back of it with his fingertips, but she pulled away to grip the bottle in front of her. “What is it?” he asked. “What’s on your mind?”

She sighed deeply and let her eyes drift shut for a moment. “It’s … ugh.”

“What?”

“I hate even talking about it. I feel like such a failure, and if I say it out loud, that’ll make it real. I don’t want it to be real.” She covered her eyes and rested her elbows on the table.

“Now you’re making me nervous. What’s going on?”

“You’ll think I’m overreacting.”

He twisted the beer bottle around in front of him. “Just tell me.”

“I was supposed to start my new job in a week – general surgeon at the Brigham and Women’s Hospital. But they gave the job to someone else – a department head’s son, actually. They told me it was mine, then suddenly it wasn’t, and I’d already turned down every other offer. So basically I’m unemployed.”

She stopped, dropping her hands to the table and looking at him as if searching for some kind of confirmation of her failure.

He frowned and leaned forward to take her hand again, this time more firmly. “That stinks. It really does. But it’s not the end of the world.” She tried to pull away again, but he didn’t let her. “No, really. Listen, it’s going to be okay. You’ll get through this, you’ll find another job, you’ll be fine.”

“You don’t understand. By now, all the good jobs are taken – and my father … I haven’t even told him or Ma Ma yet – I just can’t deal with …” She groaned and squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh, I’m so screwed.”

His heart ached for her. “Emily, look at me.” She did, and the hurt he saw in them made the ache grow. “You’re not a failure. Is it a setback? Yeah. But no one who ever succeeded at anything did it without some kind of setback along the way. Usually more than one. You can handle this.”

She frowned. “Did something like this ever happen to you?”

“Absolutely. I don’t think you can have a career in any field without somebody leading you on, giving you false hope or passing you over for a relative or friend. It happens all the time. What really matters isn’t what happens to you, but how you react to it. Leastways, that’s what my dad used to say. Remembering his words always seems to help when I’m feeling low about something like that.” He let his fingers wander over her hand, his own trembling at the contact.

She made a face, seeming to consider his words. “You’re right. I can get through this, I’ll be fine. In fact – I can’t believe I was so upset over it. I mean, it hurts, don’t get me wrong, and I still dread telling my parents. But maybe this is my chance to take a break and reassess. And I need a break, you know? I’ve been working so hard for so long, I don’t even know what to do with myself. I mean, I’m going crazy after four days with nothing to do. That’s nuts, right?” She laughed and shook her head.

He noted with concern that the hysteria was back. “That’s right. You sound like you could really use a rest – a vacation even. Maybe this is exactly what you need.”

“Yes, I think so.” She seemed to be trying to convince herself.

He sighed. At least he knew what had her so worked up. She’d done her best to hide it, but she was wound tight as an eight-day clock. “How about we finish our beers and go get that ice cream?” He drained his bottle, stood and threw a few bills on the table.

She finished her drink and stood as well. “Ice cream sounds perfect.”

Eamon looped his arm around her shoulders and together they walked back to the truck. But his mind was racing with what she’d just told him. He couldn’t help it – whenever someone he cared about was in trouble, he wanted to do something for them, wanted to make the problem go away. But this was one thing he knew he couldn’t fix.

* * *

Emily limped down the hallway, her stomach full of butter pecan ice cream. Eamon walked beside her, steadying her as pain shot up her leg with each step. They’d had a lovely time eating dessert downtown and soaking up air conditioning, and now she wanted to take a nap. She felt like she’d stepped into an alternate universe – drinking beer in the morning, eating ice cream for lunch, taking afternoon naps – and almost giggled at the thought. Who had she become?

She stopped at the door to her room and leaned against the door frame. “Thanks for the beer … and the ice cream.”

He nodded. “You’re welcome. Feel any better?”

“Actually, I do. I’m almost relaxed … though it’s been so long, I’m not sure I recognize the feeling.” She laughed at her own joke and stepped back, awkwardly bumping into the wall. She felt like a nervous teenager. Would he kiss her again?

He leaned closer, and she could feel the heat of his body against her skin, smell the beer on his breath.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you later.”

She nodded, her breath caught in her throat.

He turned and walked back down the hall and out the front door.

She exhaled and collapsed back against the wall. Why hadn’t he kissed her? He’d been holding her hand, caressing her arm and flirting with her all day long. Then he just walked away as though there was nothing between them.

She’d never understand men.

It was true, she hadn’t dated much, and usually grew bored with the men she saw after only a few dates. But Eamon was different. Instead of being tired of him, every moment she spent with him seemed only to intensify her feelings. It was unexpected and intoxicating. And she hadn’t thought about her job once since they left Clancy’s.

Something had changed, and Emily was beginning to think that it had everything to do with a certain handsome cowboy.

Chapter 6

T  he HVAC unit looked like it was older than Eamon was. He sighed, lifted the lid from the unit and studied the engine, then reached for his tool belt. He didn’t really know what he was doing, but he wasn’t about to tell Parker or Emily that. A man had his pride.

The afternoon sun beat down on his head, and he wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his gloved hand and squinted across the field behind the house. The horses were gathered beneath the few large shade trees on the other side, tails swishing at flies and heads hanging low. He grinned at the sight of them. Even when things got hard around the ranch, the beauty of the animals they cared for each day always brought a smile to his face.

There was something so special, regal, about horses. He’d always loved them and couldn’t believe he now got to spend his time raising them on a ranch he owned with his brothers. It was more than he’d dreamed possible. Even though their first year together had been tough and margins were tight, he could see that before long they’d be on their way to profitability.

He turned back to the task at hand, just as Parker appeared around the corner of the house. He knelt beside him and rested a hand on the engine with a frown. “How’s it going?”

Eamon managed a sardonic smile. “Oh, great.”

Parker laughed. “You have no idea what’s wrong with it, do you?”

“I’m sure I can figure it out. After all, we can’t let Dalton think we couldn’t handle things, can we?” He peered into the open unit, examining various coils and wires.

“No, we can’t. But maybe we could hire someone to help us out – you know, a professional?”

“But where’s the fun in that?” Eamon chuckled. “Seriously, though, we might have to, but I’m hoping we can save the expense by doing it ourselves.”

Parker nodded, then rubbed his face with a groan.

“What’s wrong?” asked Eamon, one eyebrow up.

“Nothing … it’s just … I’ve got to tell you something.”

Eamon took a deep breath. It seemed everyone wanted to come clean to him today. “Yeah?”

“Well, you know how I … I’m not sure how to say it.”

Eamon sat and leaned his back against the HVAC unit, stretching his legs in front of him and crossing his feet at the ankles. “I’ve got all day. Take your time.”

Parker half-smiled and sat beside him, sighed and let his eyes drift closed. Only now did Eamon see the large black circles beneath his eyes, and his chest ached at all his brother had likely been through but never spoken of. He’d been so excited about becoming an Army Ranger, but Rangers had to do and see things most people didn’t – and no person should have to.

Parker’s eyes opened again and he focused on the herd in the distance, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ve decided to see a psychologist.” His voice was solemn.

Eamon’s eyes followed his brother’s gaze, and he watched the horses laze beneath the shade trees, the younger ones nipping playfully at each other. “Oh yeah?”

He’d wanted Parker to get help for whatever was bothering him for so long, he felt like cheering with relief. Instead he bit his tongue and waited for Parker to go on.

“Yeah. It’s been hard, being back stateside. And the things we did … I need to talk to someone about it.”

Eamon picked a blade of grass and rolled it between his fingers. “You can always talk to me.”

“No, I can’t really, not yet. You and Dalton – you’re home to me, and I don’t want to bring that stuff home. Does that make sense?”

Eamon nodded and took a long, slow breath. He wished he’d realized the reason for his brother’s reticence sooner. He’d been worried Parker didn’t feel comfortable enough with him to really talk, and it was a relief to know that wasn’t it. “It makes a lot of sense.”

“So anyway, I called the VA this morning and made an appointment with her, the psychologist. And I think it’s going to be good … helpful. I don’t know if I’ll ever be back to normal, but she told me I can find a new normal, whatever that means.” Parker stood slowly and lifted his arms over his head with a yawn. “I haven’t been sleeping well since I got back. I really hope this’ll help with that, and some other things …”

Eamon stood as well, put his hands on his hips and faced his brother. “I’m glad you’re doing this, Parker. You’ve got your whole future ahead of you and I’m on your side. So’s Dalton. We both just want to see you happy again. I hope you know that.” He grinned. “We miss that high-pitched girly laugh of yours.”

Parker did laugh then, and Eamon caught a momentary glimpse of the brother he used to know. The sight made his eyes water. Parker stepped over and threw his arms around him, thumping him on the back with one fist. “Thanks, bro.”

Eamon returned the bear hug, his throat tightening. “Anytime.”

Parker headed toward the house, but before he turned the corner, he glanced back over his shoulder. “Beer on the porch tonight?”

“You got it.”

Eamon watched him leave, his head spinning. He loved his brothers more than anyone else in the world – except Mom, of course. Seeing Parker struggle had been difficult for him, and he knew Dalton felt the same way. They’d often talked about it, especially when Parker retreated to his room for hours on end or was particularly morose. They’d both wished he’d open up to them, but hadn’t wanted to push the subject, afraid he might not take it well. They weren’t sure just how precarious a place he was in emotionally.

Eamon smiled to himself and turned back to the HVAC unit, frowning as he squatted beside it. Now if he could just figure out how to fix that contraption, his day would be complete.

* * *

Emily tugged on the end of the stick. Harley tugged back, sitting on his haunches, his eyes gleaming. She laughed and pulled again, but, tail wagging, he shook his head, yanking the stick from her grasp. Happy with his victory, he trotted off toward the barn with his prize between his teeth. “Hey, you cheated!” complained Emily, setting her hands on her hips and chuckling as the dog disappeared around the outside of the building.

She’d always loved dogs but had almost forgotten after living of years in condos and apartments and working such long hours. Spending time with Harley these last few days had reminded her. When she was a girl, her parents had brought home a cocker spaniel she’d named Goldie, and she’d enjoyed feeding her, grooming her and taking her for walks down the streets of their neighborhood. She’d loved that dog.

Maybe she should get a dog. She didn’t know where she’d be working or living yet, but wherever she settled she could surely find space for a small one. They brought her so much joy, and she was sick of living alone – it was too quiet. She hadn’t spent much time at home in recent years, so it hadn’t really mattered. But she hoped now that she’d finished her residency, perhaps she’d find a job that gave her more time off, and maybe she could manage a pet. And a roommate. Perhaps even a social life. She shook her head and laughed as she walked toward the barn.

A whistle made her spin around to see Eamon and Parker on horseback, rounding up horses. The animals snorted, necks arched, and trotted forward in a group. A few tried to make a break for it, and a dark brown one kicked up its heels and shook its head at Parker before returning to join the rest of the herd. Eamon rode his golden mount around the herd, waving his hat behind them and whistling.

Emily walked to the paling fence by the barn, climbed up onto the bottom rail, leaned her arms on the top one and watched them with a wide smile. Horses were such graceful creatures, the way they moved, the muscles rippling beneath dazzling coats in the brilliant sunshine … she couldn’t take her eyes off them.

She’d never had much to do with horses before – her entire previous experience had been at Susan Wallerford’s birthday party when she was eight. Susan had insisted they go riding, but Emily’s horse had turned around halfway and galloped back to the stables, Emily clinging to the saddle for dear life. That scraggly, dull-coated beast had looked nothing like these magnificent creatures, their heads held high above strong necks.

Before long, all the horses were shut into the yards beside the barn, milling around the hay bales, buckets of molasses and salt licks. The air was full of the musky odor of horseflesh and manure, and the whinnies, snorts and the clomping of hooves in the dry dirt sang in Emily’s ears. As one chestnut horse ran by where she was perched, Emily reached out and let her fingers skim the animal’s satiny back. Its coat was hot beneath her hand, and she laughed as it shied away from her touch.

The pop and crack of wide tires on the gravel drive made Emily turn her head, and she raised a hand over her eyes to shut out the sun’s glare. A black pickup crawled toward the house, bumping and jerking over the uneven ground. It stopped behind her, and a man stepped out, wearing a scruffy goatee, jeans and a button-down red-and-white plaid shirt. He smiled and waved.

She waved back and stepped down from the fence. “Hi.”

“Hello there, I’m Will.” He strode toward her, his hand outstretched, and she took it, shaking it firmly. “Ah, there’s Eamon and Parker.” He slipped between the fence rails and headed for Eamon, who tipped his hat. She heard them exchange pleasantries as Eamon dismounted to shake Will’s hand.

Eamon took his horse by the reins and left the yard, making his way to where Emily stood. “Who’s Will?” she asked.

“He’s our vet. He’s here to check out the foals for registration and do some immunizations.” Eamon wrapped the reins around the fence and rested one foot on the lowest paling.

Harley trotted out of the barn and sat beside Emily, his head tipped to one side, one ear standing tall and the other cocked forward. “That dog is stalking you,” said Eamon with a chuckle.

“Awww, he’s so sweet.” Emily scratched Harley’s head and ruffled his furry ears. “He misses Hazel.”

“Yep.” Eamon removed his hat and combed his fingers through his sandy blond hair. “Do you have any pets? I mean I know you said no way to the kitten, but I thought maybe you had a goldfish or something.”

“No, definitely not.” She laughed.

“Why not?”

“Well, like I said before — I live in an apartment, and I’m never home.”

“But you like animals, right?” His tone was casual, but she could sense a deeper meaning behind his questions.

“Yes, I love them, actually. But I think it would be cruel for me to own any with the schedule I keep.” She bent to pat Harley’s side, and his tail wagged furiously. “This guy would be so lonely if he lived with me.” Her heart ached at the thought. Had she chosen such a lonely path that even owning a pet was too much of a commitment?

Eamon smiled at her. “Sounds like you’re a busy lady.”

“Probably too busy.” She laughed, and it sounded hollow, jaded. “I don’t know … I’ve given so much, sacrificed everything for my career. And now I don’t even know where it’s headed. I was angry before, but now I just feel disappointed and tired.”

She stood and stretched her arms over her head with a yawn. “See, I’m yawning.”

“Do you like it? Being a surgeon?”

“I love it – it’s the best thing in the world – but I’d really love if I could have a life as well. Maybe I’m asking too much.” She chuckled and leaned back against the fence.

“I don’t think that’s too much. Might be just about right.” Eamon’s voice warmed her soul and she imagined for a single moment how it might feel to hear that voice every day of her life.

Emily smiled at her own imagination, wondering how she’d changed so much in such a short amount of time that she could daydream about spending her life on a ranch with a cowboy. But it felt like a dream she’d long forgotten. She felt a peace deep inside for the first time in so long it seemed strange. Her heart was ticking along at a normal rate, her veins weren’t quivering with adrenaline, her mind was clear. Would it be so bad to live this way?

* * *

Eamon and Parker waved goodbye to Will, his black truck kicking up dust as it rumbled toward the main road. Parker opened the latch on the corral gate and Eamon ushered the herd back out into the field. They left in a rush, glad to be free again.

The men wandered to where Emily now sat, beneath the shade of the large oak that spread a canopy of branches over one side of the barn and part of the yard. She had a book in one hand, the other behind her head against the rough bark of the thick trunk. Harley lay at her feet, his head resting on his paws. His tail thumped the ground as Eamon grew near. “We thought we might go to town for lunch to celebrate,” said Eamon, tipping his hat back. “Care to join us?”

Emily laid her book on the ground. He looked so handsome, his tanned face split by a wide white smile, his blue eyes sparkling beneath his black hat. Sweat made his shirt cling to his muscular chest. She grinned. “Sounds good. What are we celebrating?”

“We made it through foaling and registration. Will says we’ve got a great crop of foals for our first lot. Dalton was so worried we wouldn’t be able to handle things while he was gone, so we’re celebrating success and smooth sailing.”

She raised an eyebrow. They still had two weeks to go before Dalton and Hazel returned – celebrating might be a bit premature.

“Okay.” She stood and dusted the dirt and twigs from her shorts. “I’ll just go freshen up.”

After showering, changing clothes and fixing her hair, Emily found Eamon and Parker waiting for her by the pickup. They’d both changed into fresh shorts and T-shirts and combed their hair. She wondered if they’d usually do that to go into town, or if they were making a special effort.

In Tifton, Eamon parked in the street.

“I’ve got to get something at the pharmacy,” Parker mentioned. “I’ll meet you at Oinkers after.” He wandered off.

Eamon nodded and turned to Emily.

“Actually, I need to go to the livestock store down yonder – do you mind? Oinkers is just there on the corner. You can come with me, or take a look around and meet us there, it’s up to you.”

Emily stuffed her hands in her shorts pockets with a shrug.

“Actually, I think I’ll wander around a few minutes. I haven’t spent much time in town.”

As Eamon disappeared around the corner, she set off down the street, her hands linked behind her back. She stopped to peer in through store windows or wandered inside to check out their wares. Everywhere she went, people nodded or said hello, curiosity in their eyes. She smiled and responded in kind, soaking up the atmosphere. Tifton wasn’t really a small town – but compared to places she was used to, it was sleepy and quaint in that charming way only small towns could manage.

She paused at a glass door next to a long-closed Blockbuster Video. The lettering on it read Tifton West Medical Center, General Practitioners,” followed by three doctors’ names. Inside was a cozy waiting room – a television hung just below the ceiling soundlessly played a cartoon. A few plush chairs lined one wall across from a reception desk where a woman with a red bob held a phone against her ear with her shoulder.

Then she spotted the sign – black marker on white printer paper – taped to the front of the desk. HELP WANTED – GENERAL PRACTITIONER.

Her eyes narrowed. She was looking for a job, but she wanted to be a big-city surgeon in a hospital with a stellar reputation, not a GP in a small-town practice in south Georgia. Still, her curiosity was piqued. She frowned, then pushed the door open.

An electronic bell chimed overhead and the woman behind the counter glanced her way, still speaking into the receiver.

The woman finished the call, and Emily walked up to the desk. She was suddenly aware of how casually she was dressed: no makeup, her hair in a ponytail, wearing khaki shorts and a plain T-shirt. She probably looked like she was twelve years old. Oh well.

“Hi.”

The woman smiled and wrote something on a ledger in front of her before looking up at Emily. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, I was just wondering about the Help Wanted sign.”

The woman arched an eyebrow skeptically. “Are you a GP?”

“Actually, I’m a general surgeon – I just finished my residency up in Boston. I came down here for a friend’s wedding. And, well, I saw the sign and it made me curious. I’m not really trained as a GP and it’s not what I was looking for, but …” She shrugged.

The woman smiled again. “I’m Jocelyn, but most people call me Joss.”

“I’m Emily Zhu. Nice to meet you, Joss.”

“You too, Emily. Well, let’s see … the position is still available. It’s only part-time – all the GPs here actually double-up at the hospital – but it’s a paid position, and after twelve months the partners plan to review things to see whether or not it’s still a good fit and whether you want to buy into the partnership. The partners are Joe Hamilton and Maria Suarez. Dr. Ramachandra just accepted a position in Atlanta, so he’s selling them back his share. Does that answer your questions?”

“Yes, it does, thank you.”

Emily pursed her lips. It sounded flexible, and there was a possibility of doing surgery at the local hospital at the same time. She loved the quiet feel here – she hadn’t been this relaxed in years. What if she could live this way? What would Eamon think about her sticking around.

Then her heart lurched. What would her parents think?

“Here, why don’t you take my husband’s card, just in case? It’s got our e-mail address and fax number on it, so you can send us your resume. It’s a pretty great place to work, if you ask me, but then I’m probably biased since I’m married to the boss.” Joss laughed.

Emily looked at the card, which belonged to Dr. Hamilton.“Well, thank you. I appreciate it.”

She headed back out onto the street, her pulse racing. What was she doing? Was she actually considering moving here? She didn’t know anything about the place other than that it was quaint, hot and sleepy, and you could find a dive bar open at ten in the morning. But if she really needed a taste of the city once in a while, Atlanta and Jacksonville were only a few hours away …

She was getting ahead of herself. They might not even consider her for the job. She wasn’t a GP, which would likely disqualify her … though Joss hadn’t said so. She barely remembered her General Practice rotation – she’d been studying up on her surgical knowledge the whole time and hadn’t paid as much attention as she should’ve. Still, it wouldn’t take much to get her licensure as a GP. What would it hurt to apply?

She pondered it as she walked toward Oinkers, a seedy-looking establishment with a large faded sign of a cartoon hog swinging over the door. It declared itself a barbecue restaurant, and she remembered Parker saying it the best one around. She entered and frowned at the dirty floor, mismatched furnishings and dim lighting. This place didn’t look like it would serve anything good. Then she took a sniff, and her mouth began to water.

The server led her to a corner booth where Parker and Eamon waited, each cradling a half-full Mason jar in one hand. Eamon nodded to her with twinkling eyes and an impressive display of dimples that made her head spin as she sat beside him. “Thought we might have to come looking for you, but Parker reminded me that it’d be hard for anyone to get lost in Tifton.” He chuckled and took a sip of his drink.

The waitress, who looked to be seventeen at most, appeared by her side. She smacked gum between her teeth and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. “Would you like a drink?”

Emily frowned. “Hmmm …” She reached for one of the menus that lay piled in the center of the table.

Parker laughed. “No need for that – you have to try the sweet tea in a place like this.”

“Okay, I’ll have some sweet tea.”

The girl nodded, then disappeared. “What did you get up to?” asked Eamon.

“Not much, just looking around. It’s a cute town.” Her pulse raced. He was so close to her, she could feel his warmth against her arm, could sense his nearness through the fabric of her shirt. She picked up a menu and began flicking through it, not even seeing the words in front of her. Her drink arrived and she hastily took a gulp. It was so sweet, her eyes bulged.

Eamon laughed. “Good. Huh?”

She took a second mouthful. “Very good, but I’m sure I’ll go into a sugar coma before I finish the glass.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be Southern sweet tea if you didn’t.” His eyes flashed and she felt her cheeks burn.

“So are you heading home tomorrow?” asked Parker.

She blinked. Was she? She hadn’t thought about returning to Boston in days. She didn’t want to go, not yet. She had nothing to go back to, save an empty apartment with a dead potted plant on the counter. No Harley to wag his tail and follow her around. No noisy roommates. No family. And no job. “Um … actually, do you mind if I stay a little longer?” She glanced sideways at Eamon.

His expression didn’t change. “Yeah, of course. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.” He exchanged a look with Parker.

Her face burned. “I’m sorry, that’s an imposition. It’s fine, I’ll leave – you’ve got things you have to do.”

“No, stay, please.” Parker’s voice was warm and sincere.

“Okay, thank you. I promise, it won’t be much longer – I just have some things I need to work out.” Emily could feel Eamon’s eyes on her, as though he was trying to drill into her head to find out what she was thinking. Good luck to him – even she wasn’t sure what she was thinking, except that she didn’t know what she wanted. And until she did, she couldn’t talk about it. She had to go home to Boston sometime, but perhaps she could postpone it a little longer and give herself a chance to think. Maybe even dream a little more.

Chapter 7

Eamon sipped the ice-cold glass of Coke and set it back down on the outdoor table. The afternoon sun warmed his back, and he scooted his chair forward into the shade of the porch roof. He leaned over the table, his finger running down a printout of the ranch’s profit and loss statement, and sighed. Things were tight. Tighter than he would’ve liked.

The back door swung open and Emily stepped outside, wearing a long, flowing midnight-blue dress covered in small pink and yellow flowers. Her hair, freshly washed, hung damp down her back and her face glowed with health and vitality. She looked so much more alive than she had when he’d first met her, as though she was transforming into a confident, vibrant woman in front of his eyes. His body tingled at the sight of her. “Nice shower?” he asked, internally chiding himself over his lack of creativity.

She nodded and sat in a chair across from him. “What are you doing?”

He ran his hands through his hair and grimaced. “Looking over the accounts.”

“Oh. That bad, huh?”

He chuckled. “Bad enough.”

She smiled wryly. “Well, if it makes you feel better, I hate doing paperwork as well. I much prefer having a scalpel in my hand.”

He feigned horror. “Not sure how I feel about that!”

She laughed, and slapped his arm. A bolt of electricity ran down his arm, and through his body, as her hand stopped and rested gently in place where it landed.

She’d seemed so frail, so lost, when she’d first arrived – beautiful but troubled. Now, though, she was almost a different person. He knew she’d lost her job and it was natural she’d be torn up about it, but maybe it was just what she needed.

“Emily, I …”

Parker banged through the back door, the screen whacking against the wall of the house. “There you are,” he said, his face drawn.

Eamon stood and reached for his hat beside the paperwork on the table. “What’s wrong?”

“Did you fix that boundary fence where the oak branch fell yet? We’ve got to get that done before nightfall.”

“Uh, no – I was gonna do that after I looked over this paperwork.”

Parker shifted the strap of his shoulder bag. “I totally forgot I have to head up to Macon to pick up a mare to be covered by Rocket Peak. I’m already running late – can you take care of everything else?”

“I’ve got it. You head on to Macon – we’ll see you when you get back.”

Parker ran down the steps and headed for the pickup, Eamon close behind. He helped his brother hitch up the horse trailer to the back of the truck, then waved goodbye as Parker rolled down the long drive. He’d forgotten about the mare as well … and the fence, to be honest. Too much of his mind was on a certain black-haired doctor. He had to get it back on making sure that the ranch ran smoothly until Dalton got back.

He walked toward the stables to fetch the three-wheeler. He had to fix that fence before dark, or the herd, which was all the way at the other end of the property now, might find the opening and get loose. Within a few minutes, he was racing toward the western fence line, the growl of the engine drowning out every other sound.

Afternoon shadows crept long across the grass as the sun headed toward the horizon. And Eamon’s mind wandered back to Emily – the touch of her hand on his arm, the feel of her lips against his, the way her smile lit up her dark eyes …

He found the big oak, and the long low branch that had fallen in a thunderstorm the previous night and landed on the fence. It was the longest fence on the property, covering the entire western and southwestern boundary lines. It was also one of the few remaining stretches of barbed wire on the property, and he shuddered at the thought of how much work it would be to replace it all with paling, the way Dalton planned for them to do. He pulled the three wheeler to a halt and slid to the ground.

The branch was a big one. It would take a while to cut it up and remove it from where it lay, obstructing the fence line. Worse still, when he stepped around the tree’s wide trunk, he saw Sassy, one of their mares, lying tangled in the fence. She raised her head to look at him, the whites of her eyes showing, then lay back on the ground with a long sigh, exhausted.

His heart fell – how long had she been there? He’d checked the fence early that morning, looking for damage from the storm – that’s when he’d found the fallen branch. But she hadn’t been nearby. At some point in the day she must have wandered away from the rest of the herd and gotten tangled. He’d kept a close eye on the horses to make sure that exact thing didn’t happen, but somehow she must have evaded him.

He ran to her side and knelt on the ground, surveying the damage.

“There, there, Sassy, I’ve got you now. We’re gonna get you out of here in no time. Hold on for me.”

The wire was tangled around her legs and had punctured the skin, leaving a trail of blood across her limbs, chest and belly. He couldn’t tell yet how badly injured she was – it might just be a few nicks, or it could be worse. He ran a hand over her side, murmuring words of encouragement all the while.

She raised her head again with a snort and thrashed around for a few seconds. Then lay still once again. While she moved, he stepped back out of the way, his face stricken. “Come on, girl, stop that. You’re just making it worse.”

When Sassy stilled, he hurried back to the three-wheeler and grabbed rope and wire cutters. He marched back to her side and knelt beside her with the cutters. He looped the rope into a makeshift halter, fixed it around her head, then set the loose end of it down. “Shhhh now. I’m just going to cut this wire off you. Hold still …”

She kicked, catching him in the thigh with her hoof. He winced, took a deep breath, then continued working on the wire. Every time a barb dug into her flesh, she struggled again, but after the first kick he was ready and leaped out of the way.

Within moments, she was free. He pulled the wire back and she lurched quickly to her feet, eyes wide, snorting and gasping. He reached her in two strides and took hold of the rope dangling beneath her neck. With pats and more words of encouragement, he led her over to the tree, tying the rope around its thick trunk.

He sighed deeply and tipped his hat back to scratch his head. Now what? It was times like this he could really use Dalton’s help. But he had to show himself – and Dalton – that he could handle whatever the ranch threw his way. Yes, he was an accountant by trade, but he was a rancher too now, and ranchers didn’t always have the luxury of turning to someone else when things got tough. They had to act on their own.

Her wounds didn’t look too deep, but you never knew with horses – their legs could be problematic. He remembered that from his youth spending time on a hobby ranch in Tennessee. His father hadn’t ever wanted to run a working ranch, but they’d had property with horses, a few cattle and chickens. He hadn’t spent all his time outside with the horses like Dalton had, but he’d picked up a few things.

And he knew this mare, like all their breeding stock at the Cotton Tree Ranch, was valuable. He couldn’t risk her being injured or developing an infection.

He chewed his lower lip. Should he leave Sassy there? If her legs were badly injured, it wouldn’t do her any good to walk her all the way back to the barn. And she was safe now.

He patted her again, then hurried to the three wheeler. The engine started right away and he accelerated across the field, standing high over the seat to avoid being jostled too badly as he went.

When he reached the ranch, he ran past Emily, still seated on the porch. She was reading a book, and glanced up at him in surprise when he bolted past. He hurried to the kitchen, grabbed the phone and dialed the number for the vet, which was stuck to the side of the fridge with a Domino’s Pizza magnet.

Will’s receptionist informed him that the vet was out on a job and wouldn’t be back in the office that afternoon. If it was an emergency, she said, he could call the vet over in Ocilla – they had a reciprocal arrangement. Eamon sighed and wrote down that number, thanked her and hung up. He rubbed his chin and closed his eyes.

The creak of the kitchen door made them fly open again. “Is everything okay?” asked Emily, resting her hands on top of a chair back.

“A mare’s been injured along the western fence line – her name’s Sassy. I’m trying to find a vet who can come check her out. I don’t want to walk her back to the barn if something’s wrong – it could make things worse.” He put one hand on his hip and breathed deeply, his heart still racing from the exertion of getting back to the house.

“Can I help?”

He considered her offer. She was a doctor – maybe there was something she could do.

“But you’re not a vet.”

She shrugged. “True, but I could assess the damage, apply first aid, that kind of thing.”

“Hmmm … you don’t mind?” It would save time and money if she was able to take care of it. Even if they could just get the animal back to the barn, it would make things simpler. He’d still get the vet out, but wouldn’t have to sweat the hefty emergency fee. And the way the ranch’s accounts looked, every saving counted.

“No, I don’t mind at all. It’s not like I’m doing anything.” She laughed and pushed her hair behind her ears.

“Okay, great. I’ve got some first-aid supplies for the horses in the barn. Just follow me.” He left the kitchen, Emily close on his heels. He glanced back over his shoulder, realizing as he did that she was barely even limping now. “And thank you.”

“You’re most welcome.” She grinned up at him and his insides melted.

* * *

Sassy stood still beneath the sloped branch of an enormous oak shadowing the fence line, her dark coat shining in its shade. Emily got out of the pickup, grimacing as her sore ankle touched down. The mare’s head hung low, glancing their way as she and Eamon hurried over, but otherwise not moving. She looked to be favoring one of her hind legs.

“Hello there,” she said, sliding a hand gently down the horse’s shoulder.

Sassy stamped her front foot and turned to sniff Emily’s hand. Emily had grabbed some carrots that were kept in a bucket in the barn as treats for the herd, and handed the mare one. The horse snapped it up and chewed eagerly.

Emily squatted beside the mare’s injured leg and ran her fingertips down it. There were multiple lacerations on both hind legs and her hindquarters, but particularly the left leg. She pressed gently along the length of it, then examined the horse’s front legs, and belly and found several other cuts, but nothing bleeding too badly.

She stood and pressed her hands to her hips. “I’ll bandage up that hind leg and just put some antiseptic cream on the other lacerations. She was lucky – it doesn’t look like she hit any major veins or arteries. And nothing seems to be broken, although you’ll probably want to make sure with the vet when they come.”

Eamon scratched his chin, then strode to the truck for the first-aid supplies. Emily was grateful he and his brothers kept such a good stock on hand for times like this. She helped Eamon carry the items over to Sassy, and then ministered to the animal’s wounds as best she could. “Some of these cuts need stitches, but I can fix them up back at the barn. I’ve got my medical bag with me – I’ll need to sterilize my instruments, but I’m happy to do it if you’d like me to.”

He nodded enthusiastically. “Thanks, that’d be great.”

Emily drove the pickup back to the barn and began preparing everything she’d need to finish working on the mare while Eamon slowly walked the mare back. As she watched them approach the barn, she was relieved to note that the mare no longer appeared to be limping or favoring the injured leg as much as she had at first. The anesthetic cream must have taken effect.

By the time she’d finished stitching up the wounds, Emily’s back ached and her neck was cramped. She wasn’t used to working in a hunched-over position like that. She stood and stretched her arms high, rolling her head from side to side to loosen her tight neck muscles.

Eamon patted Sassy’s side affectionately. “All done?”

“Yes, all done. I’ve stitched the lacerations that needed it and bandaged them. Other than replacing the bandages regularly, she should be all taken care of.”

Eamon stepped closer. “Thank you.”

“You already thanked me.” Emily swallowed. It suddenly felt hotter in the barn.

He took another step forward, making her shiver. “I’m thanking you again.”

“No need …” She cleared her throat, her eyes locked on the small patch of blond hair sprouting just above his top shirt button. Her gaze drifted upward and over his full lips, slightly parted, finally resting on blue eyes that were flecked with gold and brown. He was staring at her. She swallowed again as her heart thudded.

His hand brushed against her arm, setting the small hairs on end. Then his fingers closed around her hand and he raised it to his lips, his eyes still fixed on her.

“What are you …?” She didn’t get to finish, as he closed the gap between them and pulled her to him, his eyes full of fire.

His lips met hers, and sent a bolt of heat through her. Her eyes closed and she moaned. She hadn’t been kissed like that … ever. Her hands found his hard back muscles and worked their way up to his neck as she stood on tiptoe to lean deeper into the kiss.

The world spun around, every thought in her overactive mind dissolving. She didn’t want to think, only to be. And to feel like this forever.

Chapter 8

Emily rested her elbows on the kitchen table and rubbed her tired eyes. For the past two hours she’d been sending resumes to every hospital she could think of, and now she could barely see straight. She was used to hours in front of her laptop after so many years of study, but had barely touched it in the two weeks since she’d arrived at the Cotton Tree.

Was it really two weeks already? She smiled at the realization – she could already see a difference in herself. When she’d looked in the mirror that morning after her shower, she’d seen plumper cheeks, brighter eyes, skin fairly glowing with health. She felt more like herself than she had in years. It seemed all she’d needed was some rest and good old Southern cooking.

She snapped the laptop shut and stood with a yawn, stretching and letting the tension of being seated in a hard chair so long work its way out of her neck and shoulders. With a sigh, she carried her empty water glass and crumb-covered breakfast plate to the sink, rinsed them off and set them in the dishwasher. After drying her hands, she wandered out to the porch. Her ankle was back to normal – she could walk comfortably without even a twinge, and had gone for a short jog the previous day with no ill effects.

Parker was in the pasture with the prize stallion, Rocket Peak, whom she’d taken to visiting with a carrot or handful of oats every morning. A new mare had arrived that morning and Parker led her into the field, then slipped the lead from her halter before stepping back toward the gate. Rocket high-stepped over to greet her, his muscular neck arched and rippling in the bright morning sunshine. She laughed as the mare snorted at the approaching stallion, then turned her back on him and made a display of kicking a hoof at the green grass. He shied away, then moved toward her again and stretched out his nose to touch hers.

Emily skipped down the porch stairs and across the yard to where Parker stood, his arms leaning on top of the gate to watch the interaction. She climbed up beside him and rested her arms on the gate as well. “Morning, Parker. How’s it going?”

He glanced her way with a smile, then tipped his hat back further. “Good morning Em. It’s going well so far, I think. He’s got his work cut out with this one.” He chuckled as the mare nipped at the stallion, sending him into retreat once again.

Harley trotted out from behind the house, his nose and one side of his body coated in mud. He ran over to Emily and pressed his nose against her leg, leaving a dirty trail across her thigh. “Ugh! Harley!” She jumped back, but the dog followed. Thinking it was a game, he leaped up with bright eyes to press his feet on her shirt, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.

“Harley, down!” commanded Parker, suppressing a laugh as Emily tried desperately to brush the mud from her shirt and thigh. “You spoil him. He’d never get away with doing that to Hazel.”

Emily sighed, but couldn’t help laughing at the same time. No matter what he did, she just couldn’t stay mad at that dog, with his floppy ears and mischievous sparkling eyes. She could swear he was grinning at her too.

“Hey, thanks for your help the other day with Sassy,” Parker continued. “The vet says she’s all good, and he admired your handiwork with the stitches – said he’d never seen better.” He looped a rope around his arm, tying the end around the loops to hold them in place, and set off toward the barn.

Emily fell into step beside him. “You’re welcome. Actually, it was kind of fun. It’s been a while since I’ve enjoyed medicine – even if I was treating a horse. I’ve been so stressed that I’d forgotten how much I like it. I’m actually looking forward to getting back into my scrubs. Whereas before …”

“You just wanted to hide?” asked Parker, eyebrow raised.

“Yeah. How did you know?”

“Oh, I recognize the feeling.” He smiled ruefully.

Emily heard tires crackling on the gravel driveway, turned to see Eamon’s pickup curving toward the house, and her heart skipped a beat. She shoved her hands into her shorts pockets and hunched her shoulders as she wandered over to greet him. Just being near him made her pulse race and her ears buzz with adrenaline. She swallowed hard and tried in vain to calm her breathing.

Eamon parked the vehicle, climbed out and pulled two bags of groceries from the bed of the truck. She waved, and he nodded in response, setting the groceries on the ground. When she reached him, he put his arms around her waist with a hint of a smile, then leaned forward to kiss her. When he pulled away she grinned, her cheeks burning. “Can I help?”

He grinned too, leaned down and handed her a bag. “Thanks.”

Over the past two weeks, things had changed between them. The intensity of her attraction to him had grown each day, and he’d taken to walking with her hand in his, holding her and kissing her whenever he felt like it. She wasn’t sure where things were headed between them, but each day felt like an adventure she didn’t want to miss.

She still hadn’t booked her return flight to Boston. It was always on the edge of her thoughts – she had to go home, had to face her parents sometime. They were currently in Europe on vacation, so they might not have noticed her lack of communication. In truth, she was avoiding them – avoiding everything.

Including telling Eamon about the job in Tifton. She knew she should, but the timing never seemed right. She’d sent them her resume too, even while thinking nothing would come of it – but they’d had her in for an interview and offered her the position on the spot. Dr. Hamilton, the senior partner in the practice, was a man in his fifties with kindly eyes and an open, friendly face, so different from the department heads at the Brigham. She’d asked for a few days to think it over, and he’d agreed.

She wanted to accept the position … but her stomach churned at the thought of having to tell Eamon, Hazel and most of all her parents. And she’d kept sending out her CV hither and yon – once again, avoiding.

Her thoughts spinning, Emily followed Eamon inside and set the groceries on the kitchen counter. While he brought in the rest of the bags, she stowed his purchases in the fridge and pantry. It felt good to be doing something simple that didn’t require any thought. It made her heart sing that she could allow herself to just be without focusing on achieving. She knew that sooner or later she’d have to make some decisions, but right now she was happy to leave it until later.

“I thought I might get started on dinner,” he said, setting the last bag on the floor. “I was going to work on the HVAC, but it’s too late really …”

She laughed. “You mean, you don’t want to work on the HVAC.”

He rolled his eyes and flashed his dimples. “Yeah.”

“Maybe it’s time you called in help.”

“What, you don’t believe in me? I’ll fix it … I just have to …”

“Figure out what on earth the big gray box is for?” She smiled and set a jug of milk in the door of the refrigerator, then pushed it shut.

“Hey! I know what I’m doing … or at least I will as soon as I sort out just what the spring thingy is supposed to do.” His eyes twinkled and he pushed himself up to sit on the counter, his feet swinging free beneath him. He reached for Emily, caught her by the waist and tugged her closer until she stood between his hanging legs. With soft fingertips he looped strands of her hair behind her ears and caressed the side of her face.

“All joking aside, I do believe in you. I also believe there’s no shame in bringing in an expert when you’re in over your head.” She kissed him boldly on the lips.

He laughed, his eyes full of intensity. “Okay, okay, I’ll call someone. I just hope it’s something easily fixed – and cheap. Hey, come back,” he groaned in complaint.

She pulled back anyway and pinched the bridge of her nose to clear her thoughts. “Eamon, there’s something I have to talk to you about. You know how I lost that job at the Brigham?”

He nodded, watching her closely. “Yeah …”

“Well, I found another job.”

His eyes lit up and he smiled brightly. “Awesome! I knew you would. Where is it?”

She paused. What would he say when she told him? He’d think she was moving here to be with him, no doubt, and probably freak out, thinking she was the clingy type who’d move across the country because of a few stolen kisses. But that wasn’t it … or not entirely. She wanted this job because being here made her feel warm, at home. Peaceful.

“It’s in Tifton.”

His eyes narrowed in confusion and his smile wavered. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been offered a position as a GP at a practice in town. I’ll be working as a surgeon at Tift Regional Medical Center as well – they tell me I can split my time between the two.”

His eyes widened and he slid from the counter, his hands landing on his hips. “Oh wow! I didn’t know you were looking for something like that.”

“I wasn’t – I sort of tripped over it, the morning before we ate at Oinkers. There was an ad for the position at the GP’s office, and I sent my resume in. I wasn’t serious at first – I mean, I still haven’t told them I’ll take the job. But being here has given me time to think, and I know I don’t want to go back to working the way I was – constantly, no breaks, no vacation, no rest. I was stressed all the time – you saw the way I was when I got here …” She laughed nervously.

He nodded and combed his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, you were wound pretty tight.”

“And I don’t want to be like that again. I want to take time to smell the roses. I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed life before coming here, and I hadn’t even realized it until I got here and slowed down and gave myself a chance to think. I promise, I’m not stalking you …”

He frowned and studied her face. What was he thinking? It was so hard to tell.

But finally he grinned, stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. With his lips hovering just above hers, she could smell his musk and admired the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. He took a long, slow breath before saying,

“I don’t mind you stalking me. Just an FYI – you can stalk me any time.”

She threw her head back and laughed as her fears dissipated, then rested her cheek against his chest as he stroked her hair. She could hear his heartbeat though his shirt, and the sound flooded her soul with peace. “So you think I should accept?”

“Of course I do. Are you gonna be living in Tifton, then?”

She nodded. “I should probably start looking for a place this weekend.”

“Would you like me to help.”

She leaned back to see his face. Counting the tiny freckles across his nose could become her new hobby. “That would be great. I could really use your local insights.” She chuckled and raised a hand to brush his cheek, reveling in the feel of day-old growth beneath her fingertips.

“Well, you don’t want to pick something down by the river, trust me. Midges are not your friend.”

“See, that’s the sort of advice I need – real estate agents are likely to sell me on something with midges, rats and backing onto a construction site, and I wouldn’t even know it.”

He laughed. “That wouldn’t do.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Hey, how about we get started on that supper.”

She frowned. “What? I thought you were cooking supper. Now it’s we? What are you trying to do – make me learn how to cook?”

“I hadn’t considered it. Though of course it would be nice if my girlfriend could cook me a meal occasionally, not just the other way around. I mean, what if I get sick, or injured? Who would feed us?”

Girlfriend. The word sent a shiver of delight through her. Never had such a simple word sounded so delicious.

Her cheeks flamed and she ducked her head with a chuckle. “Well, in that case … hand me an apron.”

He laughed and reached into a cabinet to get one for each of them, while she pulled her phone from her pocket and scrolled through it for some music to play while they cooked. She connected it to the Bluetooth speaker in the kitchen, and within moments Taylor Swift’s “Shake It Off” blared through the room.

Eamon flinched, smacking his head on the top of the cabinet door as he pulled two aprons out. “Ow!” He rubbed the back of his head ruefully.

She took one apron and put it on, tying the string carefully around her waist. “You okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just that awful noise.”

“What? Come on…”

“I’m sorry – my kitchen, my music.” He lunged for the phone.

She struggled to keep hold of it, but his arms closed around hers, holding her in place while he attempted to wrench the device free of her grasp.

“Hey, stop that! You’re out of line, Mr. Williams!” she shouted between giggles.

Finally, he yanked it free and raised it high in victory, his eyes shining. He turned his back to her and the music stopped, soon to be replaced by Trisha Yearwood. “That’s better.”

She groaned and slapped a hand over her eyes as she realized which song he’d picked – “She’s in Love with the Boy.”

“Come on, really?”

He faced her grinning, his hips gyrating to the beat of the song. He laughed as he faced her and offered her his hand. When she took it, he spun her beneath his arm and she collided into his chest with a gasp. They danced in a slow embrace as the country song surrounded them, aprons pressed together and eyes connected in an intense and unbroken gaze.

Chapter 9

“What did you think of the last one?” asked Eamon, glancing at Emily as he shifted into third gear.

She didn’t want to say that she’d felt like bursting into tears three apartments ago. That would sound hideously spoiled. So instead she forced a smile.

“It was … okay.”

She pressed the button to roll down the window and let the hot breeze blow against her face. It felt like an oven out there, and the air-conditioning in the truck couldn’t keep it at bay. She rolled it back up and leaned her head against the headrest with a sigh, her temples pounded with the beginning of a stabbing headache and her throat was parched.

“Well, this is the last one, so I hope you like it. Otherwise we’re gonna have to get you a double-wide out at the Golden Sunrise Trailer Park.” He chuckled and rubbed a hand over his hair, which was springing free without his usual Stetson or ball cap to keep it in place.

Her heart fell. She wasn’t a snob, but why did every property they’d inspected so far have to smell like wet dog, cigarette smoke, motor oil, or have mildew on the ceilings? Was it so much to ask that her new home be free of dangerous toxins and wretched odors? She sighed again and massaged her forehead gently.

“Don’t worry,” assured Eamon, resting a hand on her shoulder. “If all else fails, you can stay at the ranch until the perfect apartment comes along.”

She looked at him in gratitude. How had she managed to discover a man who not only made her body quiver with one touch, but also seemed to genuinely care about her? And why hadn’t she ever found such a man before in her life? Were they all hiding in rural Georgia?

“Here we are.” Eamon turned the steering wheel, guiding them through a large wrought-iron gate next to the sign saying “Stoneleigh Apartments.” Emily straightened to look at the sprawling buildings with interest. Already it looked much better than anything else they’d inspected. “This one’s also close to the doctor’s offices – you could walk there in about fifteen minutes if you wanted.”

“Yeah?” She leaned forward and studied the picturesque kudzu vine that crept up the front wall of a red brick building. Fifteen minutes to walk to work … that would be a nice change of pace from the hour-long commute in heavy traffic to the Brigham each day. The gardens were well-maintained and there was a security keypad at the entrance – likely they shut the gates at night. Not as necessary in such a small town, no doubt, but it still made her feel a little more secure.

They met the building manager in the reception area and she showed them several units. The rooms were spacious, clean, mildew-free and smelled like a home should. Emily preferred living on the upper floor, and within thirty minutes she’d signed a lease for number 215. She was officially moving to Tifton, Georgia for at least a year – and she had a lease contract to prove it.

While they’d inspected the property, marveling at the size of the gym and the swimming pool, Eamon had held Emily’s hand, lacing his long rough fingers through hers. He grinned at her and pulled her close while they wandered through the apartments. For a few minutes she caught a glimpse of everything in life she desired. It was within her grasp – all she had to do was reach out and take it.

* * *

Eamon put the tip of the straw in his mouth and tasted the delicious chocolate milkshake. Aunt May’s Southern Grill was just one of the eateries on Main Street – most were chain restaurants, but this one was small, and family-owned. He loved their oversized burgers, thick-cut fries and milkshakes. They made him feel like he was a boy again.

So did Emily – he’d laughed more in the past two hours than he had in years, something he never would’ve thought possible with the dour, serious woman he’d met at Dalton and Hazel’s wedding rehearsal. There was no doubt about it – she’d undergone a transformation in the time she’d stayed with them, and he liked it. He was beginning to think there might be a future for them together. The idea made his gut churn and his heart race at the same time.

He chewed a fry as he listened to Emily talking about her new job. She was excited to begin and candid with him about how much that surprised her. She’d always gone for the most challenging roles, the ones that would elevate her career to the next level. Now she was just looking forward to making a difference. Already, her employers were calling her daily to talk about patients, excited about what she’d be bringing to the community in terms of patient care, expertise and skill.

He smiled as he listened – he could see she felt appreciated, and it brought out a warm glow in her cheeks. He let his hand drift toward hers, took her fingers and played his own across them, the thrill of her touch making his skin spark with pleasure. “Hey, I was wondering something … have you ever been fishing?”

She laughed, as though she’d been expecting him to ask anything else, then shook her head, her long dark locks swaying. “No, I haven’t.”

“I love fishing. I used to go with my Dad before he died, so every now and then I like to take my pole out to a lake in the area and just sit, waiting for something to bite. Gives me a chance to rest and to think.” He took another slurp of milkshake.

She tipped her head to one side and frowned. “That does sound nice. I’m not sure about the worms, though.”

He chuckled. “If I handle the worms, would you like to come fishing with me this afternoon? I usually take Saturdays off from the ranch and I thought I might go, but … I’d also like to spend the afternoon with you. Why don’t you come? It might be fun.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You’ll bait the hook?”

He nodded.

“Okay, it’s a deal. I should probably change first …”

“Me too. Let’s head back to the ranch, we’ll change and I’ll grab my poles and tackle and meet you back at the truck. Okay?”

“Okay.”

By the time she'd put on the cutest fishing outfit she could muster, torn denim shorts and a button down checked shirt that tied just above her navel along with white converse slip-ons, she could see Eamon through the window, already waiting by his pickup. She reached for a straw hat, and shoved it on her head as she skipped out the front door.

"Ready?" he asked, leaning back against the door of the truck, his ankles crossed and his cap tilting lazily over his eyes, throwing them into shadow.

The sight of him, all tanned muscles, shorts and t-shirt, made her palms damp and she rubbed them down the sides of her shirt with a quick intake of breath. She knew she should take things slow with this cowboy from south Georgia -- shouldn't dive head-first into anything without thinking it through. But her head and her heart seemed to have lost their connection.

Eamon opened the passenger door for her, and she slid into the seat, her arm brushing up against his and making her skin goose pimple. Slow things down? It'd take everything within her not to leap into his arms right now.

She pushed her hands beneath her rear, and sat on them. If that's what it took - she'd just have to stay that way until she could trust herself around him. She sighed. The drive to the lake might be a longer trip than she'd bargained for.

The lake wasn't much more than a large pond. It was nestled against some evergreens, and a sloping rise. Shaped almost like a figure eight, Eamon had lovingly dubbed the place the Magic Eight Lake. He swore it was the best place around for catching large mouth bass, because the man who owned the property, Bill Pullen, stocked it annually with fingerlings. So, the fish were practically begging to be caught. She'd laughed when he said that, and he'd offered her a grin that made her legs weak.

True to his promise, Eamon baited her hook for her. He couldn't resist shoving the wriggling worm in her face before he did it, but she managed to shoot him a look of disdain worthy of a renowned surgeon, and much to her relief he soon gave the game up.

They stood side-by-side, two poles bent warmly over the still, glasslike pond. Emily's heart was full, and she smiled without thinking as she watched minnows darting in the shallows by her feet. The grass was full of the hum of bees, and the occasional rap of a woodpecker in the trees nearby blended with the call of a family of wood ducks who were foraging in a bed of reeds across the water.

"So, what do you think?" asked Eamon.

Emily slapped at a midge on her arm. "Of what?" She squinted at him through the glaring sunlight.

"Of fishing."

"Oh... it's good so far."

"Hmmm..."

She chuckled. "If I'm understanding it correctly, it involves a lot of standing and staring at the water. Have I got it right?"

He grinned. "Yep. That about covers it."

"Well, it's beautiful here." She sighed, and then drew in a long slow breath of hot air laden with the musty, sweet smells of the outdoors. "I feel more relaxed already. And hot. But I've kind of gotten used to the heat, now that we don't have AC at the ranch anymore."

He frowned. "Anymore? I just have to fix it, that's all..."

She sniffed. "Yeah, like I said..."

Emily watched with one arched eyebrow as he carefully pushed the handle of his pole into a holder he'd set up on the bank. Then, he stepped over to her and lifted her pole from between her hands, and set it in another holder. She frowned.

"Hey? What are you...?"

Just then, his face erupted into a grin, and he grabbed her, tickling her ribs with his fingertips. "You're just full of feisty today, aren't you?"

She laughed out loud, as the tickling made her sides clench. "Stop it!" she cried between fits of laughter. She couldn't catch her breath. "I'm sorry. Yes, you can fix it. You will, I'm sure of it. You're the best HVAC technician in the south. Stop!"

By this time she'd crumpled to the ground, and the relentless tickling continued as Eamon followed her down. She lay on her back, writhing from side to side. He wouldn't stop. She had to do something. She reached up and poked him in the ribs with both hands, making him flinch. Good, he was ticklish too. She set about tickling him as hard as she could, still overcome by paroxysms of laughter. Soon he was laughing hard too, and the two of them rolled about on the ground caught up in the fun of the moment.

When finally she couldn’t take any more, they stopped, both of them breathing hard. She had somehow ended up on top of him, and let her head drop against his chest, her cheek pressed to his shirt. She could hear his heart hammering against his ribs.

She pushed up onto her elbows, still resting on top of him, a half-grin playing around the corners of her mouth. With one hand, she stroked his cheek, her fingertips grazing against day-old stubble.

"How did we get here?" she mused, her gaze focused on his full lips.

"Well, you kind of took advantage of me when I was down..." He chortled.

She slapped him playfully on the chest. "No, I mean here - as in, this thing that's happening between us. I would never have guessed it could happen. That I could..."

"Fall for a cowboy like me?" He filled in the blank, and her cheeks flushed with warmth.

"Well, I wouldn't put it that way. But yeah. I guess so. It was unexpected."

He raised a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ears. "Unexpected can be good. Right?"

She smiled. "Yeah. I wouldn't usually agree, but in this case…”

Reluctantly she pulled away, and sat on the ground, her knees against her chest, and her arms wrapped tightly around them.

He sat as well, and lay his legs out straight in front of him, crossing his ankles. Strong arms took his weight as he leaned back, and she resisted the urge to run her fingertips over them.

"What's wrong?" he asked, one eyebrow arched.

"Nothing."

"No, it's not nothing. What is it?" He turned to face her, and gently stroked her hair with the palm of his hand.

"My parents."

"Oh." He chewed the inside of his cheek. She knew he didn't understand.

"What's your Mom like?" she asked.

He leaned back again, and stared off over the lake. "She's Mom, you know? She's always there for me. Loves me unconditionally. Just wants to see me happy, I guess."

She sighed, and let her eyes drift shut for a moment. "Yeah, that's nothing like my parents. Oh, don't get me wrong — I'm sure deep down they want me to be happy. But the most important thing to them is that I bring honor to the family. That I work hard, get a good job, make money, buy a nice house, marry a successful Chinese doctor, or judge, and have at least one, possibly two perfect little babies, who will grow up to do the same."

She pressed her fingertips against her eyes with a groan. When she opened them again she could see him watching her with interest.

"What you mean is, they won't approve of me." He stated, as though he finally understood.

She nodded. Unable to find the words.

He let out a short sigh, then offered her a smile. "Okay. That's fine. We'll just have to prove them wrong. Won't we?"

She nodded, but she knew that was impossible. Her parents were never wrong, at least not in their own eyes. And they'd never approve of Eamon Williams as a match for their little girl. And that's how they saw her, as their little girl. As if they still had a say in every aspect of how she lived her life. Her heart sank at the thought of it, but she continued smiling as Eamon helped her to her feet, and they went back to the business of fishing.

Chapter 10

Emily crunched a mouthful of Shredded Wheat and read the back of the cereal box. Her phone sat beside her, and she glanced at the black screen – still no response to the dozens of resumes she’d sent out. She’d received the automated “thank you for your application” responses, but nothing about an interview or the possibility of an opening.

Granted, she already had a job – she’d called Dr. Hamilton when she returned from her fishing trip with Eamon and accepted his offer – but she wasn’t applying for now, it was for the future. She had to think of her future … at least that’s what her mother would say. She had no idea what her father would say.

She hadn't spoken to either of them since she'd lost the position at the Brigham, but she'd received a text from them while she was still asleep in bed that morning - they were on their way home from Europe. They'd spent the summer in London and Paris, Copenhagen and Rome. And right at that moment, they were scheduled to arrive stateside. The text made it clear they expected to see her tomorrow night for dinner at their place in Cambridge, near Harvard.

She swallowed the mouthful and looked at her phone again. There was no getting around it – she’d have to speak to them. She’d at least give them some time to go through customs, get home, unpack and take a shower before she destroyed all their plans for their only child.

She ran a hand through her hair, took another bite of cereal, then unlocked her phone and typed a quick response to her mother: Ma Ma, so glad you’re home. Looking forward to seeing you. Can’t do tomorrow night, as I’m still in Georgia for Hazel’s wedding. Love, Emily. She hit “send” as her gut twisted into a knot.

She got one more bite in before her mother’s reply made her phone ding: CALL ME.

Two words, and her heart fell. With slow deliberate bites, she finished her cereal, then rinsed the bowl and spoon and deposited them in the dishwasher. If she called back, it might end in a fight and her day would be ruined. If she didn’t, Mother would keep hounding her until she did. She just wanted to enjoy a lazy Sunday in Eamon’s arms, his tender kisses on her lips. She shivered at the pleasant thought, even as she stared in dread at her phone.

The door swung open and Eamon wandered in, his sandy hair standing on end. He wore loose fitting shorts and a tight white T-shirt, and his eyes were still half-closed as he yawned. He spotted Emily, smiled and scratched his chest as he made his way over. “Morning.”

She smiled. “Good morning.”

He kissed the top of her head, then went to pour himself a cup of coffee from the percolator. “You look tense.”

She chewed her lower lip – did he already know her so well? “My parents are back in the country. They want to see me.”

“Oh. Is that so bad?” He sipped his coffee, his free arm over his chest, his blue eyes twinkling.

She couldn't help the way her lips curled up at the edges when he looked at her. “I guess I’ll call them … later. Ma Ma’s already agitated because she knows I’m not in Boston. The longer I can put off that conversation, the better for everyone involved.” She chuckled, then sobered.

“So what’s on your agenda for today?” asked Eamon.

“I don’t have anything planned.”

He sat beside her and rested his elbows on the table. “Parker and I usually go to church, but we’ve missed the past couple of weeks trying to keep up with everything on the ranch. Want to come with us?”

She frowned. She’d never been inside a church building before except for a museum trip – her family was Buddhist, so who knew what they’d say about her attending a Sunday service? Well, she was sick of doing everything they expected. It was her life. She could do as she pleased. “Sure, I’ll come.”

But while Emily showered and dressed for church, all she could think of was the impending conversation with her parents. As they drove to town, music blaring over the radio and Eamon singing off-key, the only thing running through her mind was how little he and she had in common, how she’d rushed into a relationship with a man she barely knew. And what kind of answer she might give to her father when he asked her why.

* * *

Eamon took a sip from the glass of sweet tea and set it on the side table next to the sofa. His eyes were glued to the flat-screen TV on the wall, but his mind was elsewhere.

“Hey, where’s Emily?” asked Parker, tossing a handful of Fritos into his mouth.

Eamon glanced down the hallway at the closed bedroom door. She’d been quiet all through church, and as soon as they’d gotten home after lunch at the local Chinese restaurant she’d retreated to her room and shut the door. He was pretty sure it had something to do with her parents. Ever since she’d heard from them that morning, she’d seemed distant and tense. The noise of the baseball game on the screen filled the room as he reached for a handful of chips.

“Braves are goin’ down today!” Parker teased.

Eamon frowned. “No way. You and your smack talk … I still can’t believe you’d pull for the Nationals over the Braves. Where’s your loyalty, man?”

Parker laughed. “The Nats are better. That’s where my loyalty lies, with the best team.”

Eamon huffed. “Everyone’s better than the Braves this year. Proves nothing except you’re a fair-weather fan.” He usually loved talking smack with his brothers over anything competitive – and they were competitive about everything. But today his heart wasn’t in it. He couldn’t get Emily out of his mind – it was like she was pulling away from him already, before they’d even given their relationship a chance.

He sighed and took another sip of tea as Freddie Freeman drove a ball into the outfield. “Suck on that, Strasburg,” he grumbled at the Nats’ pitcher.

“Yeah, yeah” Parker conceded. “Watch your boy get stranded on first. Again.”

Eamon glanced again at the closed door, and made up his mind. He set his drink down, stood and walked down the hallway to knock on the door.

Emily answered from inside. “Just a moment.” Thirty seconds later, the door opened and she stood there in the white dress with lace trim she’d worn to church that morning, one that set his pulse racing. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He waited for her to continue, and when she didn’t, he asked, “Can we go for a walk?”

She nodded, pulling the door shut behind her, and he followed her onto the front porch. What should he say? Was she having second thoughts? He didn’t want to tell her it was too late for him, his heart was already lost. He was afraid of what she might do with it.

She stopped at the porch railing and leaned against the top plank. He stood beside her and felt the gentle afternoon breeze caress his face. “How are you?”

“Fine. You?” Her voice was clipped, her face tightly drawn.

“Em, what’s going on? You’re pulling away from me and I don’t know why. Please, talk to me.”

She ducked her head, her eyelids lowered against her golden cheeks. “I don’t know … I just feel like we’ve rushed into things. I mean, we barely know each other, and we’re so different. We come from different worlds, really.”

“We do?” He frowned. What was she talking about? Did she mean Boston versus Tifton, or something else?

She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. He could see a red blotch forming at the base of her neck. “I’m not sure I can explain it any better than I already have. My parents have always had this plan for my life – they sent me to the best schools, pushed me into med school, dragged me along with them to cocktail parties and events as networking opportunities. They’ve set me up on a hundred blind dates with successful eligible men whose families come from Beijing or Shanghai, good Buddhist families with summer places in the Hamptons …”

“So I’m not good enough for you because I don’t have money?” His cheeks felt hot and his gut twisted.

Her eyes, full of pain, met his. “It’s not like that!”

“What’s it like then?”

She groaned, covered her eyes with her hands and took a deep, slow breath. “Eamon, I really like you, more than you can imagine. But I just don’t know if this can work.”

He crossed his arms, anger rising in his chest. “I don’t see why not.”

“My parents …”

“… don’t run your life,” he interrupted.

She sighed. “You don’t understand.”

“I understand plenty. I understand that you’re scared. I understand that you stall when you’re scared, and you’re hiding behind your parents as an excuse to stall longer. They’ve never even met me. They might actually love me, you have no idea. Just like you had no idea about Tifton, or about that job in town, or about me, and each time you ran and hid until you couldn’t any longer. Well … well, come get me when you’re tired of hiding – I’ll be around.”

“Eamon …”

“You heard me.” He turned on his heel and marched down the porch steps and across the yard. She kept calling his name, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t bear to hear any more. Besides, the property line needed checking and now was a perfect time. Let Parker have the ball game and his stupid Nationals. Let Emily stew in her fears.

He hated how her words had cut him — as though she liked him against her better judgment. He hadn’t expected that from her, not after how things had been between them in recent days. She’d finally seemed to relax and just be herself – calm, happy, vivacious, even funny at times. But he could see all of that disappearing behind a veil of uptight apprehension and excuses, and it made his heart ache. Was that who she really was after all?

He went to the barn, saddled and mounted a bay gelding named Pensacola, and trotted him briskly around the fields, steering him as close to the property line as trees, creeks and hollows would allow. Everything looked to be in order, and he knew he’d already checked the entire fence line after the last storm and the incident with Sassy. But he needed to be out and about, and the task gave him an excuse.

That was odd … he spotted a single mare beneath a birch tree, nowhere near the rest of the herd. It was Maggie, the oldest mare in the group, but she had a foal and he couldn’t see it anywhere around her. He frowned and urged his horse into a canter.

When he reached Maggie, he spotted her small brown colt nestled at her feet. She stood over him like a sentinel guarding her richest treasure. Her brown eyes followed their approach and she nickered warmly at Eamon as he dismounted and stroked her neck. “What’s going on, Maggie?” he asked, squatting beside her foal. She followed his descent with her head, leaning low to sniff her baby.

The colt’s breathing was labored, but he couldn’t see any obvious injuries. He rested a hand on the animal’s side, feeling the rise and fall of each breath. When he listened to the foal’s heart, his ear against its side, the beat was rapid and weak. He stood and set his hands on his hips. This colt was in trouble – he’d have to get the animal back to the stables and call the vet.

He leaped onto his mount and galloped back to the ranch house to get the pickup truck, ducking in the back door and filling Parker in when he arrived. By the time he returned, bumping and weaving over the uneven ground, the colt was in worse shape than before. As gently as he could, he lifted the foal to its feet and maneuvered the horse into the back of the truck. He raised the tailgate and hurried to get back into the cab.

The mare trotted anxiously around the outside of the vehicle, her head and tail high, whinnying in concern. “It’s okay, Maggie,” he called out the open window of the cab as he nudged the accelerator, inching the truck forward. “Just come with us – everything’s fine.”

When he reached the barn, he saw Emily still on the porch where he’d left her. Parker waited by the barn door. She was sitting in the porch swing, one leg tucked beneath her, the other pushing the swing slowly back and forth. “Everything okay?” she called, her voice soft and distant on the breeze.

He pulled the truck to a stop close by the stables and jumped out. “Sick colt!” he yelled back as he ran around to open the tailgate. Maggie trotted up behind him, snorting, her eyes wide. He slipped his arms beneath the foal’s body, all long legs and downy hair, carried him into the stables and laid him on a clean pile of straw. Parker bent to check the animal’s pulse. Maggie stayed outside the fence that separated the corral from the stable, watching through the fence rails, her tail swishing at the occasional fly.

Emily reached his side. “What’s wrong with him?” she asked, kneeling beside Parker and placing a hand gently on the foal’s neck.

“Not sure. He’s not breathing well and his heart rate’s erratic.” He rubbed his chin and drew a slow breath. “I’ve got to call the vet. Be right back.” He stood and hurried out of the stables, taking his cell phone out of his pocket as he did. He watched Emily with the colt while he spoke to Will. She was so gentle, and the smile that lit up her face made his heart ache. She’d smiled at him that way before, and when she did, he couldn’t think of a single thing he wouldn’t do for her. Harley wandered into the stables and licked Emily’s face, making her laugh.

Eamon smiled and hung up the phone. “He’s on his way,” he said.

Parker jumped to his feet. “I’ll go and open the gate.” He ran down the drive with long strides.

Emily nodded and continued to stroke the foal’s side. Harley slumped onto the straw, panting, and Eamon sat beside him.

She looked up at Eamon. “I’m leaving for Boston tomorrow morning.”

His heart lurched. “I thought you were staying. You, you just signed a lease on an apartment.”

She nodded slowly. “Yes, I did, and I am. But all my stuff is in Boston – I’ve got to go back there to pack it up and ship it down here. And I need to deal with my parents, talk to them face to face about what’s going on.”

He ran a hand over his eyes. “That makes sense. How long will you be?”

“Just a few days. I start at the GP’s office on Monday, so I’m planning on getting back Friday to unpack and get settled beforehand.”

He couldn’t stand the distance between them.“Make sure you give me a call. I can help.”

“I’ll just get movers. Thanks for offering, but you have so much to do around here …”

She stood and smoothed her shorts with both hands. “I don’t think there’s much you can do for this colt. I’ll wait for the vet with you if you like.”

He shook his head. “No need. He said he’ll be here in fifteen. Thanks.”

She smiled tightly, her eyes were filled with sadness. “Okay. Well, I’m going to go pack. I know Dalton and Hazel get back tomorrow, and I’d really like to tell Hazel about my new job and apartment myself if that’s okay with you. Ideally on Friday, when I get back.”

“I promise I won’t say anything.”

She left, and Eamon’s heart dropped into his stomach. She was leaving him – and from the way she was acting, she might as well have already left.

* * *

Eamon jolted awake as the sound of a car on the gravel drive disturbed the morning silence. The sun hadn’t yet risen, but he could see a glow on the horizon through the open doors of the stable. The foal lay on the straw in front of him, its breathing labored and even more shallow than the previous day. Parker, propped up against the stable wall, was gently snoring.

Eamon stood with a groan and stretched the kinks out of his neck, back and legs. Spending the night on the cold hard earth of the stable floor had left his body stiff and sore. He stumbled through the stable doors and blinked.

The lights of the taxi idling in front of the house illuminated a patch of the yard and the side of the barn. The front door opened and Emily stepped out, pulling it quietly shut behind her. She crept down the front steps, lifting her luggage with both hands, then passed it to the driver who stashed it in the open trunk. She didn’t see Eamon watching as she climbed into the back seat of the cab.

The taxi left as quickly as it had arrived, only the crunch of tires on gravel announcing its departure. She was gone.

He ran his fingers through his hair and glanced around. Maggie stood still beside the fence, one hind leg resting with its hoof tipped forward. He shook his head – Emily would be back on Friday. It wasn’t long, and it would give them both some time to think about what they wanted. He knew what he wanted: her. But she still had doubts. Maybe some time apart would help her realize she didn’t want to live without him.

He smiled ruefully at his own wishful thinking and returned to the foal’s side. He knelt and frowned. Will had said it was some kind of heart condition, likely congenital. Unless they intended to spend thousands of dollars on risky surgery, he couldn’t do anything more for the horse.

He touched the foal’s side. It was still, cold. The colt was gone. He rocked back on his haunches and rubbed his eyes, his heart aching. What would he tell Dalton? He reached out and tapped Parker on the arm. “Parker.”

Parker groaned, rubbed his eyes with his knuckles and blinked at his brother. “Huh?”

“The colt’s gone.” As he said it, Eamon felt the grief he’d been suppressing well up inside him. He loved these horses – they spent every day caring for, loving, protecting, feeding them. He’d watched as this foal was born only a week earlier. It’d been an amazing experience, one he wouldn’t soon forget. Every foal that had been born since he arrived was special to him, every one precious. And now one was gone.

“Oh man.” Parker squeezed his eyes shut and took a quick breath. “Poor little buddy.”

“Let’s head inside,” grunted Eamon. “This floor ain’t made for sleeping on. We’ll deal with the colt later.”

Parker nodded and they trudged back to the ranch house. Eamon’s heart ached as though it was filled with heavy stones. Two losses this morning – and one definitely wasn’t coming back. What about the other?

Chapter 11

Emily stared at her phone. It blinked on with a buzz as the plane pulled to a stop at the gate. She was home.

She’d texted Ma Ma before she left to let her know what time the plane was meant to arrive in Boston. Her mother hated to wait for delayed flights. Her reply had been terse – they’d pick her up at the airport. She replied that there was no need – she wanted to head back to her apartment, and a taxi would be just fine. No response.

She didn’t stop at baggage claim – she’d only brought carry-on luggage, something she’d taken to doing after an airline lost her checked bag on the way to an important conference in San Jose. It was her first time presenting, and she’d packed her presentation, her outfit, jewelry, everything she needed in that bag. They found it and got it to her, but barely an hour before her presentation. No more checked bags for her, not unless the trip was going to be longer than a week.

She hurried through the throngs of people, through duty-free shopping, past clusters of cafés and fast food restaurants. A man dressed in a black suit stood by the exit with a sign in his hands – EMILY ZHU.

Emily glanced around. There was no sign of either of her parents anywhere nearby. She sighed. They hadn’t come to get her, just sent a driver. She wasn’t surprised so much as disappointed; they hadn’t seen her homecoming as important enough for them to make the effort, after not seeing her for three months. Even though she dreaded hearing their thoughts on her current life situation, she missed them in her own way and had looked forward to seeing them again. She’d hoped they’d feel the same way.

She raised a hand, indicating to the driver that she was who he was looking for. He smiled and led the way to the car. All too soon, they pulled up in front of her parents’ expansive house. She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. Time to face the music.

* * *

The fan in the living room turned slowly overhead. Emily tipped her head back against the plush sofa back and watched it spin. The only sounds were the ticking of the grandfather clock against the far wall and the whir of the fan, but they were soothing to her frayed nerves.

“So you are saying there is now no position at the Brigham for you?” barked her father.

She lifted her head and met her father’s gaze. “That’s right, Ba Ba.” She’d called him “Ba Ba” ever since she was a child, but the name didn’t seem to fit anymore.

“What about Reagan?”

“As I said, I turned them down because I thought I had the job at the Brigham.”

He shook his head and put his hands on his hips, a purple flush creeping up his neck. “And Emory?”

“Same.”

He took a quick breath, his nostrils flaring. “So you have no options left?”

Here it went. “Well, I’ve accepted a job in Tifton, Georgia …”

He interrupted her. “Where?”

“It’s in southern Georgia. There was a practice there that needed a GP …”

His voice sounded strangled. “A GP?!”

“Yes, Ba Ba, a GP. I know you don’t approve, but I’m really looking forward to it. I think it will be good for me to get some general skills, improve my bedside manner, my diagnosing. And I’ll still be doing some surgery at the local hospital, so I won’t get rusty. I know it’s a setback, but I don’t think it’s the end of the world.”

His eyes widened and his lips formed a thin, straight line. “You don’t? How you can stay calm about this? This is your career! Don’t you understand that?”

Emily’s mother Julie bustled into the room. “Now, now … let’s keep our voices down. We don’t want Kimberly and Harold to hear us yelling at one another.”

Emily rolled her eyes. Heaven forbid the cook and the butler hear the family arguing. Her mother would sooner have her hair plucked out one strand at a time than find the help gossip about them.

Her father walked over to the fireplace and rested his hands on the mantle, staring into the cold hearth. When he spoke again his voice was measured. “So what are you going to do about it, then? I assume you have a plan.”

“Yes, I do. The GP position is only for a year, and meanwhile I’m applying all over the country for next year’s intake. I’m hopeful I’ll get a more favorable position. In fact, I think it will look good on my resume to have such a diversity of experience.”

His eyes narrowed and he studied her as though he didn’t recognize her any longer.

“Ba Ba, I’m happy about this. I want to do it. Why isn’t that enough for you?”

He slapped the mantle, hard. “I have given you everything,” he intoned in a deep rasp. “The best schools, the best of everything. I have worked so hard with the purpose of giving you the best life possible. And now I find that you are squandering it.”

Now she frowned. “I’m not squandering anything. I’ve done my best. It isn’t my fault that …”

“Have you seen Lee lately?” Mother interrupted, as though she and her father weren't having a heated argument at all.

“What?” Emily’s mind raced to make the connection. What was her mother talking about? Surely she couldn't be referring to the pediatrician she'd set Emily up on a date with four months earlier?

“You know, Lee Ng. The two of you went on a date before your father and I left for London.” She smiled and sipped the glass of champagne she’d been nursing since Emily arrived at the house from the airport an hour earlier. “Have you seen him again since then?”

“No, Mother, I haven’t seen Lee. We had one date, we didn’t connect and that was it. He called a few times, but I didn’t call him back. He was a nice man, but not for me.”

Her father strode from the room, and flinched at the sight of his ramrod straight back. She hadn’t seen him so angry in a long time. Hopefully he’d calm down with a bit of time and distance. Her heart pounded and her armpits were drenched with sweat. She knew it would be tricky explaining her situation to her parents, but she hadn't imagined just how badly they'd react. And now her mother had jumped directly from conversations about her career meltdown to asking about her love life. Could it get any worse?

“Really?” Mother continued. “I thought the two of you would be perfect together. You should give him another chance. After all, the clock is ticking.” Her mother pointed to the clock against the wall and forced a smile.

Emily swallowed. She should make some kind of excuse, and head to her bedroom.

“No, Ma Ma, he just wasn’t right for me. I want someone genuine, fun, strong and considerate. I want him to be exciting, adventurous, handsome and good.”

Her mother rolled her eyes. “You live in a fantasy world, Emily. Where do you expect to find someone like that?”

Emily grinned, as a dawning realization welled up inside her. “Actually, I already have. His name’s Eamon and he’s all those things and more. I think he might be The One.”

Ma Ma tipped her head to one side and studied her daughter. “Eamon? Who is this Eamon? Where did you meet him, at the Brigham?”

She shook her head. “No, I met him at Hazel’s wedding. He’s Hazel’s brother-in-law and works on the horse ranch he and his brothers own down there.”

Mother’s eyebrows arched and her eyes widened. “He’s a rancher? A … cowboy? You’re seeing a cowboy in Georgia?”

Emily nodded, bracing herself.

“I forbid this. You cannot do it! You will break your father’s heart. First you toss away your career and now you throw yourself at a cowboy? What do you intend to do, live on the ranch and cook and clean while he rounds up cattle?” Her mother’s tone was loaded with contempt.

Emily felt tears welling in her eyes. She cared for Eamon and wanted to be with him, and her mother was working hard to make her feel ashamed of it. “I already told you what I intend to do,” she replied angrily before she could stop herself. “You should try listening.”

Ma Ma reacted like she’d been slapped. “Don’t you dare talk back to me!”

“Why do I bother talking to you at all?” Emily ran from the room, taking the stairs two at a time to the second floor. The staircase wound upward, regal marble with a cedar banister that shone in the morning sunlight. With a sob, she burst through her bedroom door, flung it shut behind her and launched herself onto the soft queen-sized bed in the center of the room. As she cried into her pillow, she remembered the warmth of Eamon's embrace, and the softness of his kisses. She'd been so happy. And now, that feeling was well and truly gone.

* * *

Eamon lay on his back in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He’d slept only two hours since stumbling out of the stables and into the house, without even the energy to change out of his soiled jeans and shirt. At least he’d thought to kick his muddy boots off by the front door. The heat of the day was already permeating the house, and a trail of sweat trickled down the side of his face. He really had to get someone out to look at the HVAC before Dalton and Hazel arrived home today. Otherwise, Dalton would think he was slacking.

As he lay there, the memory of what took place that morning before sunrise hit him once again and he groaned. He rubbed his face and sighed deeply. Emily was gone. And so was the colt.

The phone in the kitchen began to ring and he groaned again in response. With a grunt, he lurched to his feet and ran out of the room in his socks, reaching the phone just as the answering machine kicked on. “Hello? Hello?” he heard Dalton call.

“Hey, Dalton,” he responded sleepily, rubbing his eyes again and attempting to focus.

“Eamon?”

“Yep. It’s me.”

“Are you seriously still sleeping? It’s eight in the morning.”

Eamon rolled his eyes and frowned. “No, I’m not sleeping, I’m answering the phone. What’s up, bro? How’s the honeymoon?”

He could hear Dalton’s smile through the line. “It’s great – we’ve had the best time. We’re looking forward to getting home and starting our lives together, but we decided to stay in Destin a few more days. I just wanted to let you know we’ll be home Tuesday instead of today. Is everything okay there?”

Eamon frowned. He was glad his brother was so happy – and that he had more time to deal with the HVAC – but he didn’t want to answer that question. “Yeah, of course. Everything’s good …”

Dalton’s tone changed. “What’s going on? You sound upset about something.”

Eamon sighed and settled into a kitchen chair. He never could hide anything from his big brother. “Um … well, we lost Maggie’s colt this morning. I’m sorry, Dalton – Parker and I did everything we could.”

On the other end of the phone, Dalton whispered something to Hazel before coming back. “I’m sorry to hear that, Eamon,” he finally said. “But it’s not your fault – I’m sure you did your best. Did you get the vet out?”

“Yeah, Will said it was a heart defect – nothing he could do that made sense. So I made the call to just let him go.”

“You did the right thing, Eamon.”

Eamon took a breath as relief washed over him. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d wanted Dalton’s approval. “Thanks, Dalton. And the HVAC unit finally went – I made a couple runs at it myself, but I couldn’t make heads or tails of it, so I guess we’ll just have to call in a pro.”

“Smart move – some things have to be left to the experts. Anything else?”

Eamon wasn’t sure if he should bring up Emily. He’d promised her he wouldn’t tell Hazel about her new job or apartment, but she hadn’t said anything about keeping their relationship secret. And he could really do with some brotherly advice. Parker had been no help – he’d just shrugged and mumbled about women being a mystery. “Actually, I met someone …”

“Oh? Who is she?”

“Emily Zhu. You know, Hazel’s bridesmaid –”

“Woo-ee! Ha ha – I knew you two hit it off. I told Hazel, but she didn’t believe me. So – what happened?”

“We spent some time together while she stayed here and we got on really well. We had fun together. But now she’s telling me that we can’t keep seeing each other because her parents – they wouldn’t approve, or think I’m good enough for her.” Eamon choked on the words, his chest tightening. Just saying it out loud made it hurt even more.

“I’m sorry, man. Would you like some advice?”

Eamon nodded, then pushed out a single word around the lump in his throat. "Yes!"

“She’ll come around. If she really cares for you like you think she does, in the end she won’t worry about what her folks think. She’ll follow her heart. At least, that’s been my experience … you know, watching all those Dr. Phil episodes in my spare time.”

Eamon felt the lump in his throat shift as he laughed along with his brother, the tension broken. “You really think so?”

“Yeah, I do. And if she doesn’t, she’s not right for you. Because you’re a great guy and she should know that.”

Eamon blinked hard. Sometimes his brother really knew the right thing to say. “Thanks, Dalton.”

“You’re welcome. Now get an A/C guy out there – I don’t want to come home to an oven.”

* * *

The musty scent of hay and horse manure greeted Eamon. The stables were his favorite place to spend time. He even loved mucking out the stalls, which Parker and Dalton hated. The physical activity gave him something to do, but the mindlessness of it allowed him time to think. He took the pitchfork off its hook on the wall and set it end down on the floor with a clang.

“Eamon?” Parker called through the side door. The stables had been tacked onto the side of the old barn, almost as an afterthought, and a single door joined the two buildings.

“Yep?” Eamon replied. What was Parker doing? He’d thought his brother was still asleep in the house. They’d both been exhausted after spending the whole night with the colt. Parker walked in, a grin on his face, one cheek smudged with mud or dirt and his dark brown hair standing on end. “What have you been up to, brother?”

“Just working on Dalton’s motorbike – thought I might take it out for a ride, but it wouldn’t start.” He rubbed his chin. “Any ideas?”

Eamon chuckled and shook his head. "Sorry, wish I could help. But I'm still trying to figure out that dang HVAC, and I'm running out of time. Dalton'll be back next Tuesday."

"Tuesday? I thought they got back today." Parker leaned against the wall, and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, I guess they're having too good a time. Dalton called a few minutes ago to say they're staying on."

Parker leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “Must be nice. Hey, I see Emily left.”

Eamon frowned and stabbed the pitchfork into a mound of soiled hay. He tossed the muck out into the yard, then dug the fork back into the hay for another load.

“Where’s she headed?” asked Parker.

“Boston. But she’s coming back Friday to move into her new place.”

“Oh, so it’s not over?” Parker’s eyes narrowed.

“Honestly, that’s up to her. I don’t want it to be, but …”

Parker grimaced and ran a hand over his face. “Sorry about that, bro.”

“Yeah, well, apparently I’m not what her folks had in mind for their daughter. So she’s running scared.” Eamon shoveled another forkful of hay into the yard, grunting with the effort. He didn’t want to think about Emily. He needed a distraction.

Parker seemed to sense it. “There’s a monster truck rally tomorrow night in Albany. I was thinking I might go. Wanna come?”

Eamon set the pitchfork on the ground and leaned against it, one foot balanced on the curve of metal. “Yeah. Actually, that sounds perfect. I really need to get out and have some fun.”

“That settles it, then. We’ll go see some really big trucks crash into each other.”

Chapter 12

T  he new apartment was smaller than she remembered. Emily stood in the center of the living room and turned around, her eyes narrowed. Or maybe it was just that all her things filling the space made it seem as though it was closing in on her.

She set her hands on her hips and surveyed the boxes and furniture. Thankfully the movers had pushed the furniture against the walls so she was able to move between rooms. But there was a lot of unpacking to do. She started with the kitchen, unpacking plates, bowls and silverware. She set a vase on the kitchen counter, recalled she’d seen some flowers in the garden downstairs and wondered if she could sneak a few once she was done unpacking. There was nothing like fresh flowers for making a place feel like home.

While she worked, she thought about her parents in Boston. After telling her mother about Eamon, she’d hidden in her room the rest of the night, sobbing into her pillow. But the next morning her parents seemed ready to put their differences aside. They didn’t say anything about her career or love life all day, and even took her to lunch at her favorite restaurant, which was owned by her father’s cousin. They always ordered traditional Chinese food, stuff not listed on the menu, and it was always delicious.

That night, however, it was as they’d decided to team up against her. They’d started out sweet – appealing to her sense of family, to reason and logic. She couldn’t move to south Georgia, it wouldn’t be good for her career. She had so much potential, it would devastate them if she was to give that up for a man. It didn’t make any sense. When she told them she wasn’t sure if it would work out with Eamon anyway, so they might not have anything to worry about, they were relieved. Her mother hugged her, something she rarely did, and her father smiled.

But when they began making plans for her return to Boston, she had to stop them. “I’m not moving back – I told you, I have a job in Tifton. I’m going to be working there for at least a year. I have a contract – I’m not going to back out on them.”

Ma Ma covered her mouth with a hand and squeezed a single tear from her closed eyes. Her father’s smile faded fast and his eyes narrowed. “You still insist on making this mistake?”

She nodded. “I don’t think it’s a mistake. I feel really good about it, Ba Ba. I know it’s a bit of a detour, but I think it’ll be good for me.”

He shook his head and stormed from the room again, the same as the previous night – and many other nights in the past. Always running out on arguments, because he couldn’t stand his daughter standing up to him. She knew what he was thinking – in his culture, that just didn’t happen. He found it hard to swallow that a daughter of his would not only defy him, but do so openly in his own home.

“We only want what’s best for you,” Mother insisted, teary-eyed

Emily hadn’t wished to confront her parents this way, but they’d given her no other choice. She swallowed hard. “I know, Ma Ma, but this is what I think is best. I hope you and Ba Ba will understand that in time.”

When her taxi pulled out of their long drive, they’d waved goodbye, standing apart, a world of space between them, looking old and tired. Her heart lurched at the sight.

* * *

The small office space she shared with Drs. Hamilton and Suarez was cozy and noisy. It seemed that when the building was erected, no one had bothered with insulation or sound-proofing. And in a clear lapse of judgment, the interior designer Dr. Hamilton hired had given the place a polished concrete floor that amplified every normal office sound.

A nice carpet could easily have dampened the din, but Jos wouldn’t hear of it. She liked to fling herself around the place on her wheeled office chair, often crashing into the filing cabinet under the reception desk, which only added to the noise. Both her knees were covered with scars, but it didn’t seem to stop her careening or dim her smile. Emily decided she’d just have to get used to it. It was different from her Boston office, but sometimes being different was a good thing.

She opened every cabinet door in the small kitchenette, finally discovering a pile of mismatched coffee mugs. The pot on the coffee maker was almost full and she poured herself a cup, but one sip revealed a bitter flavor that made her grimace. It took her three sips for her taste buds to grow accustomed to it.

“How are you settling in?” Dr. Maria Suarez was a curvaceous forty-something Cuban woman with long thick hair that fell in waves around her shoulders, who wore her white coat as if it were a fashion statement. She had a warm smile that immediately set Emily at ease.

“Not too bad. I started unpacking when I got back from Boston on Friday, and by last night I only had a few boxes left. So I did them and went to bed early. I didn’t realize how tiring it can be to unpack boxes and make a thousand decisions about where everything you own should live.” She laughed and spooned sugar into her coffee cup, hoping it would cut through the bitterness.

Maria grimaced. “I know just what you mean.” Her voice was smooth as silk, her accent softening the edges of words. “We moved here five years ago, and I vowed never to move again.”

Emily nodded. She’d be happy to go a long time before moving interstate again. And after having to organize the entire procedure in just a few short days, all she wanted to do now was curl up in a corner somewhere and sleep.

She wondered what Eamon was doing. Ever since she’d climbed into the taxi and left for Boston a week ago, she’d regretted the way she’d left things between them. The arguments with her parents had helped her realize her feelings for him were stronger than she’d thought – all she wanted was to see him again. But had he washed his hands of her entirely? He hadn’t called her, and every time she picked up the phone to call him, fear stopped her. She couldn’t bear the idea of having him hang up on her, or worse, act cold and distant.

She took a deep breath. No time to think about him now – it was her first day at a new job and she had patients to see. Butterflies swirled in her stomach. What if she didn’t know what to do? What if she overlooked something important and failed to diagnose a serious illness? She’d never worked as a GP before and diagnosis had never been her strong point. She was a surgeon – after someone else settled on a why, she implemented the how. Now, she’d be doing both between the GP’s office and the hospital.

She followed Dr. Suarez out of the kitchenette and down the hall to their offices, each with a sign on the door. Hers read, “SUNDEEP RAMACHANDRA, M.D.” She paused in front of the door and frowned – they’d have to take care of that. She headed to the reception area. “Excuse me, Joss?”

Joss looked up from her computer screen with a smile. “Yes?”

“I was wondering when I might be able to get the sign on my door changed?”

Joss blinked. “Oh, of course – I’ll change that directly. By the way, the boss wants to see you at ten, so I’ve left you an open slot then. Okay?”

Emily nodded, smiling at how she referred to her husband, Dr. Joseph Hamilton, as “the boss.” Emily always liked to arrive extra early on her first day, and that morning she’d beaten everyone else to the office. She’d had to wait outside until Joe and Joss arrived to open the place. The quaintness of it all made her smile – yes, this was far more relaxed than the Brigham. She thanked her and headed back to her office.

The first four patients flew by in a blur of questions, smiles and answers. She was happy with how she’d handled them, and the nerves began to fade. She could do this. At ten, she finished keying notes into the computer and hurried to Joe’s office, where he was waiting for her in a worn leather armchair. The nerves returned and her stomach clenched – what did he want? Had she already made a mistake? At the Brigham, the boss never asked to meet with you unless you’d done something wrong.

“Emily, good to see you. Have some cake.” He pushed a plate covered in slices of fruitcake toward her, just as Joss bustled in with a hot cup of coffee.

Emily nodded her thanks and took the cup and a slice, holding it carefully on a napkin to avoid spilling crumbs. “Thank you.”

Joss left and Joe leaned back in his chair to sip his coffee. “So how’re you doing?”

She could almost feel his sincerity, like a warm blanket. “I’m doing well.”

“Finding your way around?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Well, I just wanted to meet with you to make sure you have everything you need. Oh, and we’re all going to Oinkers for lunch – kind of a welcome to the team. You been there yet?”

She nodded. “That sounds lovely, thank you.” She kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Everyone in the office seemed kind, polite, hard-working and considerate. It felt too good to be true.

He smiled warmly. “Wonderful. Well, you just let me know if you need anything or have any questions. We’re all family here.”

She couldn’t speak, just nodded again. By the time she made it back to her office, she felt like she might cry. She sat down with a sigh and took a deep breath.

Joss knocked on the door with a grin. “I made pumpkin scones last night – care to try one before your 10:30?”

Her eyes smarted with tears.

* * *

The apartment felt like home already. At 5:30, Emily was seated on the couch, with a glass of iced tea in hand and the evening stretching out in front of her with nothing in it but the television. She had no idea what to watch, though – she’d rarely had time before.

The clock she’d hung on the kitchen wall ticked loudly. She set up her Bluetooth speaker, searched her phone, and soon Adele echoed off the walls. She sat with a sigh on the couch, flicked on the TV, surfed through the channels and turned it off again – there was nothing on. What did regular people do, the people who knocked off work at five and had no peak-hour commute to contend with – how did they spend their evenings?

She carried her empty glass back into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. She hadn’t had time to go to the store yet. Perhaps that’s what she should do. At least it would fill time. She grabbed her purse and headed out the door. She’d purchased a used Toyota hatchback on Saturday – it waited in her designated parking space outside, red paint dull in the golden afternoon light.

She passed Kroger a block away and slapped her forehead when she saw she’d missed the turn. She glanced in the rearview mirror and thought about what to do - keep going and do a U-turn further along the road, or look for another grocery store? But then she saw the turnoff to the highway up ahead. She recognized it as the highway that led to the Cotton Tree Ranch.

Her thoughts returned to Eamon. Likely he and Parker were doing their evening chores, or maybe they’d already finished and were cooking supper. The memory of the warm, cheerful kitchen made her heart ache. Parker would be stirring something on the stove top while Eamon chattered on about something one of the foals had done. Parker would nod or grunt in response, and Eamon would grin, those dimples casting shadows in his cheeks.

She sighed and turned the wheel. What was she doing? How did she know Eamon would want to see her after the way she’d treated him? But she couldn’t help herself – she had to see him, to find out if there was still a chance for them.

Within minutes she’d reached the gate, and she took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. There was no turning back once she drove through – likely Harley would see her and begin barking, announcing her arrival to all and sundry. She stepped out of the car, the cool evening air brushing over her skin and raising goosebumps. The gate swung open easily, and she drove through, shutting it behind her car.

Sure enough, she heard Harley’s urgent calls. Looking toward the distant ranch house, she saw him standing at the end of the drive, his tail held high, his head raised. He didn’t know her car, since she’d only just bought it. By the time she reached the house, his barking had become urgent and drew Eamon from the barn. She didn’t see Parker – he must be out on the property somewhere.

She parked the vehicle and stepped out, noting with a grimace the new layer of mud on the car’s wheels and fenders. Well, she did live in the country now.

“Harley,” she called softly, and the dog raced toward her, tail wagging. He licked her legs, then turned to let his tail thump against her calves. She laughed and ran her hands down his sleek sides. “Happy to see me, boy? I sure am glad to see you.”

“So you came back.” Eamon’s voice startled her. It was a statement, not a question.

She could hear the tension in his voice and straightened, letting Harley continue to pummel her with his tail. “I told you I would.”

He pushed his hat back with his finger, his eyes narrowed. “Yeah,” he replied.

He wasn’t going to make this easy. “Eamon … I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you away like I did. It’s hard to explain to someone who’s never been there, but my parents don’t exactly encourage standing up to them. I wasn’t allowed to argue with them – that’s how I was raised, and I knew they wouldn’t approve of us, and I got scared. But when I saw them … I found I didn’t care what they thought any longer.”

His eyebrows arched skyward, and his eyes widened in surprise.

"I told them everything, and they were furious. I mean, not just about you, but about the job as well. And suddenly, I didn't care. I stood up to them, for the first time in my entire life. And it was amazing, and horrible, and gut-wrenching all at the same time - but I did it. I did it. And I'm free. I feel free anyway. Like for the first time, I'm not worried about pleasing anyone else. I can make my own decisions, the decisions that are right for me. And my parents don't have to be happy about it, and that's okay." She laughed. She was babbling. Was she losing her mind? Yet, she felt a clarity she'd never experienced before, and joy bubbled up from deep within.

"I'm happy for you." He tipped his head to one side, his eyes dark with concern. "Are you sure you're okay?"

She nodded. "I'm great. Wonderful, actually. And it's so good to see you."

Emily stepped forward, and reached out a hand to lay on his forearm. He glanced down at her touch, and a spark shot between them that made her breath catch in her throat. When he caught her gaze, his mouth curved into a lazy grin, and his dimples flashed making her heart thud.

“I was just about to head out on Maggie for a ride. She’s been moping around the stables a lot ever since her colt died, so I’m trying to keep her distracted. Do you want to join me?”

She frowned. “I’d love to, but I don’t know how to ride.”

“I’d be happy to teach you. Dexter’s an old gelding we keep close to home just for riding – he’s gentle as a lamb. I’ll saddle him up for you.” He took her hand and led her toward the barn.

She fell into step beside him. “Well, okay … but just so you know, I’ve seen lambs and that metaphor isn’t really working for me. They might look gentle, but they do a lot of jumping, bucking and lurching, so …” She was babbling again – the thought of climbing on Dexter or any other creature that weighed ten times as much as her made her nervous.

He laughed and stopped. “Don’t worry so much.” Time stood still as their gazes locked. His eyes were the deep blue of the ocean in a storm, and she could read his desire in their depths before he set off again toward the stable.

She fell back into babbling. “See, saying ‘don’t worry so much’ isn’t very comforting. I mean, statistically speaking the number of horse riding accidents that result in death is quite high compared with other sports. Not to mention permanent disability …”

He laughed again and shot her a look out of the corner of his eye. “You’ll be fine.”

She chewed her bottom lip. Sure, she’d be fine – he’d make certain of it, wouldn’t he? She trusted him. Even though she wasn’t sure about that Dexter creature.

Chapter 13

What was that saying about falling off a horse? Emily tried to remember. What do you do if you fall off – throw out your arms? Tuck and roll? No, it was something about getting back up again, wasn’t it? Not that helpful – she didn’t want to fall, and if she did, she certainly wouldn’t get back up on this gigantic horse. Eamon had failed to mention that Dexter was really tall. She shivered and clutched tighter to Dexter’s reins, looking down at the ground that suddenly seemed very distant. “Are you sure he’s okay?” she asked shakily.

“He’s docile as a sloth, old Dexter.” Eamon rode beside her on Maggie. The mare was tall as well, but not as tall as Dexter. Maggie held her head high and stepped regally, sometimes skittering sideways as though she wanted to go faster and he wouldn’t let her. “Don’t worry, he’ll take care of you just fine.”

After plodding along for ten minutes, Emily finally began to relax, and she loosened her tight grip on the reins, letting them hang between her fingers. As she let the tension ease out of her shoulders, she saw the gentle waving of leaves in the pecan trees lining the southern fence line. The soothing call of a flock of ducks as they took flight from the creek banks and flapped up into the sky made her smile. Darkness came slowly in summer, and she was grateful for it. This kind of beauty couldn't be seen in the bright light of day, it was reserved for the dimly lit twilight hours, with lengthening shadows and the brilliant colors of a sunset that warmed the pastures around them.

“So you told your parents about me?” asked Eamon.

She smiled with a quick bob of her head. “I told them we were seeing each other. And that you were just the kind of man I was looking for.”

He tugged on Maggie’s reins and waited for Emily to catch up to him, then reached for Dexter’s bit to make him stop. “I am?”

“Yes, Mr. Williams. You are.”

He stood tall in his stirrups, grabbed her around the waist and pulled her from her saddle onto his own. She gasped as he sat her facing him, the two of them squeezed between the rear and horn of the saddle. She wrapped her jean-clad legs around him and looped her arms around his neck with a smile. “I’m sorry,” she whispered against his neck.

He tilted her chin up until her eyes met his, and she felt his longing reaching into her soul. “Emily, you must know how I feel.”

She looked away, unsure of how to respond. She didn’t know how he felt, not really. It was obvious he liked her, but she was in love with him. Since she’d met him, her whole life had been turned upside down – actually, it felt more like right side up. Everything she’d thought was real and true didn’t seem all that important any longer. She’d once thought love was just a connection with someone. Not now, not once love knocked her from her feet and left her gasping for air. Not when she felt Eamon’s arms around her.

This, this was love. She knew it in the depths of her soul despite never experiencing it before. Love was an all-consuming life upheaval, with the knowledge that nothing would ever be the same again, that a life lived without the other person was no life at all. She’d thought she was content before she met him, but now she knew she’d had no idea. The only question that remained was: did he feel the same way?

“I don’t want us to be apart ever again,” he simply said.

She sighed in relief and kissed him, hard. He cupped her face in both hands, gently at first, then more passionately. Her mind emptied of every thought other than that she loved and was loved. There was nothing else.

* * *

Eamon sliced potatoes and lined the bottom of the pan with them in preparation for his special pommes au gratin. Hazel and Dalton were due to arrive home any moment, and he never thought he’d be so happy to see them. He and Parker had managed to run the ranch without their older brother for four long weeks, but they hadn’t realized just how much of the load their brother carried until he was gone.

He glanced up at a blast of cool air from the vent above his head and smiled. He'd finally figured out how to fix the HVAC, and just in time. He'd spent all morning working on it, determined not to let it beat him. He'd used Google, and the instruction manual, and finally he'd figured it out. The achievement gave him a sense of satisfaction that couldn't be bought, and he grinned, remembering when he'd switched the unit back on and felt the sweet cool air on his skin.

He sliced the cheddar, popping a long piece of it into his mouth and chewing happily. His stomach growled – he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He’d been too busy with Parker, getting the ranch into top shape for the inspection they fully expected their brother to make the moment he stepped out of the cab.

The slam of a car door caught his attention as he was about to start on the green onions, and he wiped his hands on his apron before untying it, flinging it on the counter and leaving the kitchen. Harley barked a few times, then quiet.

He opened the front door with a smile and saw Emily patting Harley. The reclusive Lulu, their black barn cat, had wandered outside with her litter, tail weaving from side to side in curiosity. The kittens romped around her, pouncing on each other and rolling through the dust and dirt. “Hey, Emily.” He hurried to greet her, catching her up in his arms and kissing her, feeling her body tremble beneath his touch.

“Hi,” she laughed, her eyes gleaming.

They both peered down the driveway at the same time as another vehicle approached. Eamon rested an arm across Emily’s shoulders while they waited. By the time Hazel and Dalton stepped from the cab, Eamon could see Emily’s cheeks had turned bright red. He grinned, knowing she was nervous about what her friend would think of their budding relationship. But he wasn’t worried – he knew Hazel would be delighted. Emily was just so used to the people in her life judging her choices, she didn’t yet realize that Hazel wouldn’t.

Hazel ran to embrace Emily, her eyes wide. “Emily, what are you still doing here? I wasn’t expecting to see y–” She stepped back, her eyes narrowing at Eamon and Emily. One eyebrow slowly rose. “Ohhh. Dalton told me the two of you were seeing each other, but then you’d gone back to Boston and …” She chuckled. “… so what’s going on?”

“Well, for starters,” Emily began, unable to keep the silly smile off her face, “I’ve moved here. I have a job as a GP in Tifton, and I’ve already found an apartment in town.”

Eamon grinned too – and covered his ears when Hazel screamed in delight. Yeah, nothing to worry about.

* * *

Dirty dishes lay scattered over the countertop and kitchen table. Emily leaned forward in her seat, listening intently to a story Dalton was telling about his and Hazel’s honeymoon. She glanced around the table, her heart filled to bursting with happiness. Eamon and Parker were hooting with laugher, and Dalton’s eyes lit up as he recounted a particularly funny incident involving a rainforest-themed restaurant and Hazel’s reaction to a realistic plastic snake on the wall beside her seat.

By the time their stories were finished, the hands on the clock were both pointing north and Emily was yawning into her fist. “I think I need to head home,” she said around another yawn. “Sorry – full day at work. Learning a new role is hard. Plus I’m studying for my GP licensure.”

Hazel smiled. “Yeah, we’ve been staying up late every night too, so I’ll have to get back into the habit of going to bed at a reasonable time before school starts in the fall.”

“I’ll drive you, Em,” said Eamon. “You do look tired.”

She yawned again, even as she protested. “You don’t have to do that. I drove here …”

“I don’t mind.” He stood and offered his hand.

She took it gratefully and, after saying her goodbyes, they walked out to his pickup hand in hand. She leaned her cheek against his arm, savoring the feel of his skin against hers and the warmth of his hand, their fingers intertwined. They were quiet on the drive. The night was lit up by a blanket of brilliant stars twinkling overhead, not a single cloud to obscure them or the half moon low on the horizon, casting a golden glow over everything.

“Would you like to stop by the lake?” asked Eamon. “You know, the one where we went fishing? It’s beautiful on nights like this with the moon reflected in the water.”

She nodded and stifled another yawn.

He turned soon after onto the small dirt road that led to Magic Eight Lake. They wound slowly through the darkness of the woods, emerging onto the bank of the lake bathed in the brilliant moonlight. When she stepped out of the truck, she didn’t feel tired any longer. The air was cool against her face, a gentle breeze lifting her hair from her neck.

Eamon took her hand again, pulled a blanket from the back of the truck and led her to the water’s edge. He laid the blanket on the ground, then sat down and patted the space beside him. She sat as well, and they both lay back on the rug to stare up at the sky. She sighed. It was so beautiful. The stars blinked overhead, the sky was clear and dark yet full of the brightness of the evening lights. The moon shimmered on the surface of the lake. “Look, a shooting star!” she cried, pointing directly overhead. “Did you see it?”

Eamon chuckled beside her. “Yeah, I saw it.”

“It’s just so amazing. I can’t remember the last time I stopped long enough to stare up at the sky. And even then the sky in Boston doesn’t look like this – it’s nowhere near as clear or bright. The stars look so big, so close, it’s as though I could reach up and touch them.” She raised a hand skyward, as if to pluck one from the heavens.

“Yeah, it’s pretty great.”

“Thank you for bringing me here.” She turned onto her side and rested her head on her hand, leaning on her elbow. He did the same to look directly at her, only inches separating them. Her heart skipped a beat and, feeling bold, she lifted a hand to trace the line of one dimple.

He smiled, making it deepen. “How are you feeling about the new job, the new apartment … everything going on with you?” He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear.

She smiled. “The job’s more challenging than I’d thought – just learning all the ways they do things there. It’s different, but I’m really enjoying it. They seem to actually care about me, and go out of their way to help me whenever I need it. The patients are grateful for my help, and I’ve already got a couple of regulars who ask specifically for me. The hospital’s smaller than I’m used to, but I can see how I’ll really be able to contribute. And I’m loving my apartment – it’s so cozy it already feels like home. Only …”

He frowned. “Only what?”

“It’s too quiet. I mean, I’m used to being at work all the time and just coming home to sleep, but now I have all this time to myself. I feel a bit lost, lonely. I was thinking maybe I should get a pet.”

He chuckled. “A pet?”

“It’s an apartment, so I don’t think I can get a dog or anything. But maybe a fish or an iguana or something.”

“You want a pet iguana?” Eamon guffawed, his eyes wide.

“I don’t know … maybe.”

He stroked her face. “How about we spend more time together? Then you won’t be lonely.”

“You want to see even more of me than you already do?” she teased, pushing playfully against his chest. “Won’t you get tired of me?”

His eyes flashed. “I think I could spend every moment of every day with you and never get sick of you.” He cupped her cheek and leaned forward to kiss her lips. “I know you still have some questions about us, but I want you to know I don’t – I’m crazy about you. I don’t have any reservations about us. I’m all in.” The lines around the outside of his mouth deepened with his smile.

Her chest tightened and she leaned over to kiss him back, her heart beating wildly in her chest. Her throat ached with the intensity of her emotions. She laced her fingers in his hair, pressed deeper into their kiss and let go of every inhibition, every fear, every anxiety and doubt in the strength of his arms.

Chapter 14

T  he foals leaped and played, tossing dainty heads and flicking tiny hooves. The sun heated the rain-soaked grass at their feet and sent a cloud of steam rising through the air. The early morning shower had brought some respite from the heat wave, but the last gasp of summer returned in all its glory.

Eamon laughed and adjusted his hat. He looped Maggie’s reins around the branch of a small tree and crept slowly toward the herd. He didn’t want to startle them – they were all used to him by now, but foals could still be skittish and he wanted to make sure they were all healthy and well. He’d begun doing that daily after they lost Maggie’s colt – he couldn’t bear the idea of losing another, though the vet assured him the chances were slim. Still, he couldn’t help checking, just to be sure.

A movement caught his eye, and he raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sun’s glare. Dalton was cantering toward him on Sassy, his favorite chestnut mare who had recovered nicely from her accident with the barbed wire. No doubt his brother was enjoying his first ride after so long away from the ranch. One thing he knew about his older brother – he loved the ranch. “Morning, Dalton,” he called, setting his hands on his hips

Dalton dismounted. “How’re the foals doing?”

Eamon chuckled – that was Dalton, straight down to business. “They look good.”

Dalton grunted and let his gaze wander over the herd, pride in his eyes.

“Man, I’m sorry about Maggie’s colt. We did everything we could …”

Dalton looked at him with narrowed eyes. “I know – we’ve talked about it, bro. There’s nothing you could have done differently, nothing I would have done differently if I was here. You and Parker did a great job looking after the place while I was gone. I couldn’t have asked for a better team to help me here.”

Eamon ducked his head, a lump in his throat. He wasn’t used to such high praise from Dalton. Marriage seemed to agree with him. He swore his brother had looked almost giddy since he’d returned from his honeymoon. “Thanks, Dalton, that means a lot. I didn’t realize just how much of the load you carried until you weren’t around.” He chuckled. “I’m glad you’re back.”

Dalton smiled – but there was a sadness behind his brother’s eyes Eamon hadn’t noticed there before. Was he about to tell him he was leaving? Walking away from the ranch? His heart lurched. He didn’t know if he wanted to manage the place without Dalton. The thing he loved most about the Cotton Tree was that he got to work with his brothers every day. It was something they were growing and building together. “What’s up, bro?” he asked, stepping closer.

Dalton swallowed hard, coughed, and now Eamon could see fear in his eyes. “I wanted to talk to you alone for a minute. There’s something I … it’s hard for me to get the words out.”

Sweat broke out across on Eamon’s forehead. What was going on? Nothing ever fazed his big brother – he was tough as nails and never let anything get him down. “Okay …”

“We had a great honeymoon. But there’s a reason we stayed longer …” Dalton paused and ran a hand over his face. “The day before we were supposed to return, Hazel fainted.”

“What?”

“We were on the beach, taking a walk before dinner, and she just passed out. I was the most scared I’ve ever been in my life. I carried her up to the road and flagged someone down to call an ambulance.” He paused again, crossing his arms as he took a deep breath.

“Man, is she okay?”

“When we got to the hospital, she’d woken up, and the doctors did all these tests and scans to try to figure out what was wrong with her. It’s … breast cancer.” Dalton sobbed, his eyes filled with tears.

Eamon threw his arms around Dalton and hugged his brother tight. “I’m so sorry, man. That’s horrible.” He took a quick breath. He had to be there for Dalton, to comfort him. He had to be strong for his brother.

Dalton pressed his face into Eamon’s shoulder for just a moment, then pulled away, rubbed his eyes and inhaled slowly. “The doctors say we caught it early. They don’t even know why she fainted – apparently it had nothing to do with the cancer. Maybe it was the heat and she was dehydrated or something … but if she hadn’t fainted we wouldn’t know. So that’s a blessing …”

Eamon nodded. “Yeah, that’s good.”

“Anyway, she starts treatment over at the hospital first thing tomorrow. We stayed in Destin longer to finish up the tests. We’re determined not to let it spoil our happiness, you know? And Dr. Nimrez down in Destin said she has a good chance of beating it, so we’re just trying to stay positive.”

Eamon thumped his brother affectionately on the back. “I’m sure she’ll be okay. She’s young and strong and we’ll all take care of her …” His voice broke.

“Thanks, Eamon.”

* * *

The church was a small nondescript building off Elm Street – only the small cross beside the front door and the sign on the street that read “New Life Church” gave any clue to its purpose. Emily parked in the dusty parking lot, wiped the sweat from her brow with a handkerchief and shoved it back into the pocket of her black-and-white polka-dot skirt. No doubt it’d take a while before she got used to the Georgia heat, but she still couldn’t believe how much it felt like a sauna just to walk outside.

With her purse swinging from her shoulder, she walked into the building. The worship music had already begun – two vocalists, one with a guitar, stood in front of a small band, singing a quiet, lilting song. The swell of the congregation’s voices rose to greet her and the sweet sound made her eyes smart with tears for a moment.

She could get used to coming to a place like this every Sunday. Already she’d made friends with several regulars and every time she stepped through the door she felt warmth, love and peace wash over her. She wasn’t sure why, she just knew that she liked it and had never found anything like it outside those four walls.

Eamon, Parker, Dalton and Hazel were standing in their usual row, eyes forward, singing along to the music. Eamon’s arms were crossed. Parker swayed nervously toe to heel and back again. Dalton stood with his arm looped through Hazel’s. They were pressed against one another and she thought she saw the sparkle of a tear on Hazel’s cheek. She slipped into the pew beside Eamon and he flashed her a warm smile, slipping his arm around her waist and squeezing gently before releasing her again.

Hazel caught her eye and waved, then slid by Eamon and whispered in Emily’s ear. “Have to talk to you.”

Emily nodded, her brow creasing. They walked out of the building, back into the heat, and she reached into her skirt pocket for her handkerchief again. Hazel guided her toward a bench seat beneath a tall oak on the edge of the parking lot, sat and smoothed her dress over her knees. Emily noted that her collarbone was protruding more than usual – she wondered how anyone could lose that much weight on their honeymoon. She sat beside her friend and turned to face her, one eyebrow raised.

When she saw the look on Hazel’s face, a knot formed in the pit of her stomach. Whatever her friend had to say, it didn’t look as though it brought her any pleasure. She held her breath while she waited for Hazel to speak.

“Em, a few days before we got back to the ranch I fainted. I went to the hospital and they ran some tests …”

“What? Were you dizzy? Did you injure yourself? What happened?”

Hazel laid a hand on her arm and chuckled. “Whoa, I’m getting to all that. I have breast cancer.”

Emily took a deep breath and pressed her hands to her forehead. “Oh Hazel, I’m so sorry.”

Hazel smiled palely. “Thanks.”

Emily switched to patient-care mode, unable to comprehend that she could lose her friend. “What’s the prognosis?”

“It’s good. The doctor down in Destin, Dr. Nimrez, said it’s in the early stages.”

“Well, that’s good.” Emily took Hazel’s hand.

“Yeah, we’re staying positive. That’s what Dalton said we should do – stay positive. He’s been so great about it all. He’s determined that I’m going to be okay. I don’t know … I’m so scared.” A stray tear wound down her pale cheek and she dashed it away with her free hand.

Emily squeezed her other hand. “You’ll be fine. Do you have a local doctor yet?”

Hazel blinked and sniffled. “Actually, I was hoping you might be.”

“Yes, absolutely I’ll take care of you. You’ll need an oncologist, of course, but I’ll be your GP. Does that sound okay?” She patted Hazel’s arm.

“Thank you, Em. I think it’ll help me feel better about it to know you’re on top of it.” She sniffled again.

“You bet.” Emily leaned forward to embrace her friend, squeezing her eyes shut as if to shut out the fearful thoughts.

They walked back into church together, and Hazel immediately sang along with the rest of the congregation as they made their way to their seats. But Emily couldn’t bring herself to sing. Her head was in a whirl, going over every possibly scenario, thinking through treatment options and running down lists of things to do. Hazel was about to go through what would likely be one of the most challenging times of her life – and she could help. She would help. She’d do everything possible to take care of her friend. They’d get through this.

They had to – otherwise, she didn’t know what she’d do.

* * *

Emily pulled the door shut behind her. The entire office was dark – the rest of the team had left hours earlier, but she’d stayed after her last patient to pore over journal articles and research papers, investigating the latest advancements in the treatment of breast cancer.

Hazel had already found and met with her oncologist. Dr. Simpson seemed very capable when Emily sought her out at the hospital and shared her concerns over her friend’s wellbeing. The doctor had even offered to have coffee with her to talk through the case. Their conversation had given Emily a lot of confidence in the treatment plan Dr. Simpson was recommending for Hazel. Since then, Hazel had started radiation therapy, but it was still too early to tell how successful it might be.

Emily trudged toward her car, yawning. After seeing twenty patients and researching for three hours straight, she was tired. Her stomach growled – she’d forgotten to eat dinner and had only a simple salad at her desk for lunch. She climbed into the car and turned the key in the ignition. The air-conditioning took a while to kick in – it blasted hot air directly in her face, making her cringe and blink dry eyes.

In her purse, her cell phone buzzed. She pulled it free and swiped the screen. “Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart. You coming over tonight?”

Eamon’s voice sent a wave of warmth through her. She smiled. “I’m on my way. I’m starving and so tired.”

“Why don’t you just spend the night, then? The guest bedroom’s all made up. I’ve said you can use it anytime you like.”

She yawned again. Perhaps she should stay at the ranch, but she didn’t want to be an inconvenience. There were already so many people living there and she did enjoy the peace and quiet of her apartment. But she couldn’t ignore the thud of her heart at the thought of seeing Eamon. “Okay, I’ll drop by my place first to pick up a few things. See you in a bit.”

Emily set the phone on the passenger seat and shifted into reverse to back out of her space. It felt good to have someone in her life, someone who knew when she got off work and was waiting to spend time with her. She smiled and drove toward her apartment.

When she arrived home, she hurried upstairs to find Eamon outside her door, a bouquet of red roses in his hands, his cowboy hat tipped low over blue eyes. Her heart leaped. Every time she saw him it struck her again just how handsome he was. She grinned and ran into his arms, jumping up to wrap her legs around him. She kissed him hard on the mouth and linked her hands behind his head.

He chuckled against her mouth as she slid to the ground, landing softly on her feet. “I’m glad to see you too.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked, unable to wipe the grin from her face.

“You sounded so tired, I didn’t want you driving out to the ranch on your own.”

She cupped his cheek with her hand. “Really? Has anyone ever told you that you’re quite the catch?”

His cheeks reddened and he frowned. “Once or twice.”

“Well, you are. Thank you – I’m exhausted.”

After she grabbed a few things and packed them into an overnight bag, they climbed into Eamon’s pickup and drove out to the ranch. The sky was clouded over and Emily heard a crack of thunder in the distance. Soon, forks of lightning lit up the western horizon. “Looks like it’s headed this way,” said Eamon, glancing out through his side window.

She nodded and watched the sky silently. She didn’t particularly like storms – she knew it was childish to be afraid, but she still jumped every time thunder cracked nearby. By the time they pulled into the long drive at the Cotton Tree, her head lolled against the side door – she could barely keep her eyes open. Eamon leaped out to open the gate, and when they reached the house he carried her bag inside. She followed, shaking her head to try and clear the sleep from her thoughts.

Inside the house, Hazel, Dalton and Parker were lounging in the den listening to music and talking. She heard their laughter before she saw them, and it brought a smile to her face.

“Emily!” cried Parker, standing up to welcome her.

“Em, good to see you.” Hazel smiled, waving a spoon. A bowl of ice cream rested in her hands, and she sat nestled in Dalton’s lap.

“Hi, everyone.”

“We were just about to go for a walk – care to join us?” asked Parker.

Emily yawned, then nodded. “Sure thing.”

Eamon laughed. “I don’t know – she might fall asleep and just keel over on us.”

Hazel stood and headed for the kitchen. Emily followed her, wrapping one arm around her friend’s waist. “How are you feeling?”

“Pretty good. A bit sick earlier, but I’m okay now. And Dalton’s waiting on me hand and foot, so it’s not too bad.” She giggled.

“You’re doing great.”

Hazel put her half-finished bowl in the freezer. “Thanks. I really appreciate all your help. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Em. Have I told you lately how glad I am that you moved down here?” Her eyes gleamed with tears.

Emily embraced her. “I’m glad I’m here too.”

* * *

Outside, the storm drew closer. They could hear the rumble of thunder and see the lightning snaking in a long curve toward them. Emily huddled beneath Eamon’s arm, pressing close against him as they walked side-by-side, following in Dalton and Hazel’s footsteps. The newlyweds held hands and talked between themselves in hushed tones. Parker hung back, wrestling with Harley over a piece of rope the dog was particularly fond of. Even Lulu and the kittens stalked them from a distance. One big happy family.

Emily glanced over her shoulder and grinned at the sight of the black cat sneaking behind a shrub in the darkness, only the light from the porch behind her giving her location away. She giggled.

Eamon glanced at her. “What?”

“Nothing. Just laughing at Lulu hiding back there.”

Eamon chuckled. “Yeah, she does that. Otherwise Harley rolls her. He thinks it’s a great game, but she’s not convinced.” He stopped and turned to face her, resting both hands on her arms and staring into her face. It was so dark, she could only see an outline of his smile. “Are you happy?”

She breathed in deeply. “Oh yes.”

“Because you know, I’d understand if you weren’t. I mean, you’ve made a lot of changes in your life recently, and you missed out on your dream job. I know working in Tifton doesn’t really make up for that. So I guess … I just wanted to ask.” He ran a hand through his hair.

She put her arms around his waist and rested her chin against his chest, looking up at him. “I am happy. Actually, I love my job – it’s interesting and challenging, and I really enjoy working with patients all day. I enjoy diagnosing, and I still get to do surgery at the hospital a few days a week as well. I have a pretty great boyfriend too, so there’s that.”

He sighed. “I’m glad. I didn’t want you to feel like you were missing out on something, or settling for less than you deserved.”

“I don’t feel that way at all. It’s strange, but I really couldn’t ask for more. Who knows what the future holds, but for now I’m happy with what I have.” She stood on tiptoe to kiss him.

When she pulled away, he spoke again. “The reason I ask is … I want to spend my whole life with you. I know it’s soon and you can take all the time you need to think it through, but I know what I want – and it’s you.” He dropped to one knee and took her hand. “ Emily Zhu, I love you with all my heart and can’t imagine spending another day without you. Will you marry me?”

She sucked in a quick gasp and her heart thudded, as her free hand flew to cover her mouth. It was all so sudden – she hadn’t even considered marriage yet. But now that he’d opened his heart to her, she knew what her answer would be. “Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you. I love you too.”

He jumped up with a shout and caught her in his arms, kissing her in a way that made her heart pound in her chest.

“What’s going on?” called Dalton, concern in his voice.

“She said yes!” Eamon cried.

Dalton and Hazel hurried back to them, and while Dalton shook Eamon’s hand, Hazel threw her arms around Emily with a sob of delight. “Oh, that’s wonderful! I’m so happy for you both!” Parker soon joined them and congratulated the newly engaged couple.

Emily held Eamon’s hand through it all, and her throat tightened with each passing moment. She couldn’t believe how much her life had changed for the better in just a few short weeks. And she couldn’t ask for anything more. Her heart felt as though it might burst with happiness.

When the rest of the group finally headed back to the house, Emily wrapped her arms around Eamon and gazed up into his face. A fat rain drop landed on her forehead, followed by another on her cheek. She blinked and Eamon chuckled. A loud crack resounded close by, making her jump, but he held her closer and leaned forward to kiss her softly. His lips explored hers, and she forgot everything in his arms. Her body trembled at his touch and her legs felt weak as the rain fell harder, soaking her upturned face.

“So, Doc, do you think you could stand living in the country, married to a cowboy?” Eamon shouted over the storm.

“It’s like a dream came true that I never knew I wanted.” Emily kissed him again, melting into his embrace as rivulets of rain ran down their faces, soaking their clothes and drowning out every other sight and sound, leaving them all alone in each other’s arms.

THE END

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Read on for an excerpt from Vivi Holt’s bestselling historical romance, Of Peaks and Prairies (Paradise Valley, Book 1).

Exerpt from Of Peaks & Prairies

(Paradise Valley, Book 1)

Chapter One

Genevieve Waters-Ewing walked from the church with her hand resting lightly on Quincey Ewing’s raised arm. He’d shaved for the first time in months, and she glanced with distaste at a scratch on his cheek where the blade had nicked his weathered skin. Her whole body trembled and she fought hard to push down the sobs that threatened to escape her aching throat at any moment. He turned to face her with a grin, his ten-gallon hat perched unevenly on his square head.

The minister who’d married them was so old and frail and his hearing so bad, each time she shook her head and shouted “no” during their vows, he simply nodded with a toothless grin and continued on with the ceremony. When she tried to run, Quincey held her close and pinched her arm. In the end she stood her ground, confident that the law would never uphold such a marriage – until, that is, her new husband forged her signature on the marriage certificate. Now she wasn’t so sure.

She glared at him as her stepfather came up alongside her. “Congratulations, Genny – yer a married woman now! Isn’t that what ya always wanted?” He chuckled, and she caught him winking behind her back at his childhood friend – the man who’d just been pronounced her husband.

“Well, at least it’ll get ya out from under my feet,” he continued. “I can’t be payin’ for yer upkeep forever. Your Ma done died on me, leavin’ me with a rug-rat I never wanted. Now it’s time for ya to find yer own place in life. Can’t say as I’ll miss ya much, ‘part from the cookin’ ‘n sech of course, but I’ll find a missus to do that soon enough with ya out of the house. ‘Course, yer not goin’ far – just across the way. I’m sure ya could find it in yer heart to help me out a time or two, after all I’ve done fer ya.”

They’d stepped out into the bright Texas morning, and Genevieve squinted against the sunlight that streamed down through a faint fuzz of thin clouds above. She cast her gaze around – they were on the outskirts of Fort Worth, Texas, and she could see the plains stretched out before them. The town pushed toward the openness, threatening to civilize its bluffs, rises and hollows. Chaparral tufts littered the landscape, sheltering hare and various rodents and giving the plains an unkempt look.

Genevieve smoothed the skirts of her burgundy-plaid dress. It was the nicest dress she owned, but even so it was well worn and pulled tightly across her chest and hips where she’d grown in recent years. A long line of small buttons ran up the front of the bodice. The sleeves no longer reached her wrists even when she tugged at them, and the stays pinched her tiny waist. She sighed. “If Ma knew what you had planned for me, Fred, she’d roll over in her grave.” She caught a sob and pushed it back down with a grimace.

He laughed again, this time with a slap on his thigh. When the sound faded, he leveled his face close to hers. She could smell stale tobacco and tequila as his bloodshot eyes trained on hers and held her gaze. “Ya watch yer manners there, Missy. Ya got a husband now, and he may not put up with yer sass the way I done.”

She felt a squeeze on her arm and turned to face her new husband with a gasp. “What was that for?”

“Ya speak to my friend here with some respect. He’s yer elder and I won’t have none of yer lip, ya hear? Yer my wife now and you’ll heed what I say, got it?” Quincey took off his hat to wipe the sweat from his brow. “Dagnabit, it’s hot today. What say we grab us a drink to celebrate this fine occasion?” he asked Fred, who nodded that he heartily concurred with the plan.

Genevieve rubbed her arm where his thin fingers had pinched, and furrowed her brow. She’d never imagined that her life could have taken a turn for the worse after everything that had already happened to her. When her father died in a mining accident, Ma married the next man who asked her, out of fear that they’d end up in the poorhouse or dead from hunger or cold in the street. Unfortunately, that man had been Fred Bilton, and a more cold-hearted man would have been hard to find. Or so she thought, until she met his friend and their neighbor, Quincey Ewing.

The two men eyed Genevieve with a frown. “What?” she asked, her hands on her hips.

“Just wonderin’ what on Earth to do with ya while yer Uncle Fred and me head on down to the saloon for a bit.” Quincey placed his hat back on his head and grabbed her wrist, dragging her along behind him.

“Stop it, you’re hurting me,” she cried, stumbling after him.

“Keep up, then, and it’ll hurt less.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“Ya can sit outside the saloon where I can keep my eye on ya. I got a feelin’ yer in a feisty mood.” He stopped and pulled her close to his chest, both hands wrapped tightly around her tiny wrists. “And just so ya know – I don’t take kindly to feisty. Ya give me trouble, I give ya trouble, you got me?” He narrowed his eyes at the sight of her pale face, and the wiry gray hairs that curled up from the tops of his eyebrows lifted and fell as he regarded her. “What’s wrong with ya, girl? Did ya hear what I said?”

Genevieve nodded, and he released one of her wrists, pulling her behind him down the busy street once again. Tears threatened, but she held them in. She didn’t want him to see her cry, to know that he’d been able to hurt her. She couldn’t give him the satisfaction. Fred plodded along behind the two of them, huffing and puffing in his attempt to keep up with Quincey’s clipped pace.

They drew to a halt in front of a rusted sign that swung from a thin paling nailed in front of a two-way door. The sign read Tandy’s, and Fred licked his lips. “Well, you finally got yer way there, Quincey – I gave you my girl to marry. I figure this means the drinks are on you today, right?”

Quincey nodded and scowled. With one last glance at Genevieve, he pointed to a nearby bench and watched as she made her way over to sit. “Ya‘n’I will be doin’ our own celebratin’ later tonight,” he said with a glint in his dark eyes.

Genevieve shivered and felt the bile rise in her throat at the thought of what lay in store for her later that evening. Quincey snickered and pushed open the saloon doors, and the two men hurried inside, anxious to begin drinking.

As soon as they disappeared, Genevieve’s heart raced until it felt as though it would burst from her chest. She pulled and tugged at her corset, but it was no use. Standing quickly to her feet, she drew in deep gasps of air as circles and pricks of light danced and swayed before her eyes.

“Are you all right there, Miss?” asked a cowboy as he gently cupped her arm. His eyes were kindly above a bushy beard.

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you,” she replied, steadying herself in his grasp.

“Why don’t you sit right here? There you go.” He helped her back onto the bench, and she closed her eyes, concentrating on slowing her breathing. The next time she opened them, it was to see the cowboy dip his brown Stetson at her with a smile and meander off down the street.

Before she knew what she was doing, she was back on her feet and following him. She did it quietly so he wouldn’t notice, and she wasn’t even sure why she felt the need to follow him, but it was as though she were following an instinct she couldn’t fight. I can’t stay there. I can’t go through with it. Quincey is horrible and mean and old and I despise him. I can’t be married to him. Just thinking about going home with him to that ramshackle old place he calls a house makes my stomach churn.

The cowboy sauntered down the street. He stepped from the covered sidewalk onto the dusty road with a hop and ducked between wagons and buggies to cross it. The road they were following was the main thoroughfare for the dusty Texas town, edged on both sides by tall false storefronts. Covered boardwalks joined them to keep boots and slippers up out of the dust and manure that coated the potholed road with a layer of grime.

I can’t do it. I can’t do it. Genevieve’s mind was blank apart from a single thought that repeated itself over and over in time with the slap of her feet on the road. I can’t do it. I can’t do it.

She knew, if she dared think about it, that Quincey would come after her. As soon as he saw she’d left her place outside Tandy’s, he’d come looking and he wouldn’t stop until he found where she was. Then she’d pay. She’d seen the way he’d collected a toll from his workers, the animals on his farm and the sporting women who crept from his bed in the early hours of the morning. She’d seen it all from her home on the opposite side of the lane from his shanty. She knew how he treated anyone who had the misfortune to be included in his life, and she knew what she’d have to bear when he caught up with her.

The knowledge made her insides quake with fear, but it didn’t cause her to stop. She kept going, creeping along behind the cowboy, shivering inside, and all the while the thought flew around and around in her head. I can’t do it. I can’t do it. I can’t do it.

They soon passed by the dusty, little church where Genevieve had recently become Mrs. Ewing. She saw Quincey’s wagon parked out front where they’d left it earlier, and peered over the lip of the wagon bed. A dingy carpet bag sat in the back of the wagon. She reached inside and deftly pulled it from the wagon. It fell in the dirt at her feet with a thump, raising a cloud of dust to swirl about her skirts. With a frown, she bent and opened the latch, lifting the lid gingerly to look inside.

She gasped. It was full of her clothes and personal items!

Fred must have packed it when she wasn’t looking earlier that morning. He’d asked her to feed the shoats after breakfast, and when she’d carried their food scraps out to the yard he must have packed her things and slipped them into Quincey’s wagon. She snapped the carpet bag closed again, and hefted it over her shoulder. The cowboy had almost disappeared from view, she’d have to hurry. She picked up her skirts and scampered down the street after him, the bag clenched firmly under her arm.

They came to the Fort Worth Stockyards. A large sign to announce that fact hung directly above her head with big block letters all in red. Behind the sign, paling fences marked off small squares of dirt and enclosed hundreds of cattle. They bawled and clashed their long horns against the railings, jousting with each other in the small enclosures. Browns, whites, tans and creams – their coats were dull with dust, and they shivered against the onslaught of flies that hovered thick above them, darting in to land on a hide before being swatted away by a heavy tail or chased off by a moist nose.

The cowboy paused by the stockyards, raising one foot to rest on a low railing as he surveyed the cattle. He pulled a toothpick from his mouth and flicked a piece of food into the grass. Genevieve stood in silence, waiting. She didn’t have a plan; she was just following the man with kind eyes.

He set off again, past the yards, the rowels of his spurs spinning and tinging with each step he took. Beyond the yards he came to a clearing. Past the clearing Genevieve could see the dry plains spread as far as the eye could see to the distant horizon under the enormous Texan sky that pulled itself taut and hazy above the dusty landscape.

On the edge of those plains, in the clearing, an enormous herd of longhorns milled around. Around them on horseback sat a few covered wagons and a group of cowboys watching the cattle closely. The cowboy climbed onto the back of a bay horse that stood saddled and tied to the back of one of the wagons. He tipped his hat at another man who walked between the wagons toward Genevieve, then drew the reins and trotted off.

Genevieve squinted as the dust borne on a warm wind came in gusts off the plain and hit her full in the face. What should she do now? The cowboy had disappeared around the outside of the herd and she could follow no further. The man walking toward her was closer now and she could see his brow furrowed in concentration. He had a handsome, darkly tanned face with chiseled features. Several chestnut curls escaped the tight fit of his black Stetson, and when he glanced her way she caught her breath. His eyes were pale blue and sparkled under the brim of his low-drawn hat.

Without thinking, Genevieve ducked behind the closest covered wagon. Her heart raced and she held her breath. The canvas that covered the wagon was joined to the timber frame directly in front of her eyes, and she noticed as she hid there that it had popped open on one side. She pulled it away from the wagon frame and poked her head up through the gap. The schooner was chock-full of food stuffs and kitchenware: cured meats, wheels of cheese, flour, eggs, pickled and canned fruits and vegetables, as well as containers of things she couldn’t make out. All were stacked up in the midst of frying pans, pots, utensils and spices.

Her eyes widened in surprise and delight. She had never in her life seen so many good things to eat, and in fact it had been a number of years since she’d had a hearty meal. Since Ma died, Fred had always insisted she cook for him, never leaving her enough to eat herself. She felt her mouth moisten at the sight of all that delectable food and her stomach growled, twisting tightly as she considered how it might taste. She climbed up on a step that jutted out at the base of the wagon bed, then pushed herself over the edge and inside, pulling the carpet bag behind her.

She landed with a grunt on a wheel of cheese. She’d never seen so much cheese! If only she had a knife. There must be one around here somewhere. No, what was she thinking? That would be stealing, and there was no way she could get away with slicing into a full wheel of cheese without anyone finding out about it.

If she was going to steal – which she wasn’t – it would make a lot more sense to take one of those delicious-looking red apples in the barrel beside the cheese. No one would ever notice that an apple was missing from a barrel that size. But of course that was still stealing, and hungry as she was, she knew Ma would never approve of such behavior, God rest her soul.

Her stomach growled again and she licked her lips. It was just a tiny little apple. Surely there wasn’t a person on this Earth who would object to her taking one teeny apple.

She reached out and plucked one from the top of the barrel. It felt cool to the touch, and as she pushed it into her mouth and bit down hard into its crisp flesh, the juice ran down her chin and dripped onto her skirts. She leaned back against the hard, rounded side of the barrel and put her feet up on top of the cheese as she munched.

Just then, the wagon jolted and moved forward. She stopped chewing and sat upright, listening intently. She could hear the bellowing of the cattle and the whistles and calls of the cowboys – they were moving out. She wondered where they were headed. Never mind – wherever it was she hoped it was as far from Fort Worth and Quincey Ewing as she could get. She lay back down and took another bite.

Chapter Two

With a grunt, Thomas O’Reilly heaved a large sack of oats from his shoulder onto the dry ground, causing a cloud of dust to halo around the sack and hover a moment before slowly resettling again. He reached for the place where the canvas cover joined the timber bed of the chuck wagon to untie it, but the canvas flapped open, revealing a gaping hole where it should have been secure.

He frowned and shook his head. He’d only hired Cookie two days ago and already he was beginning to wonder whether it had been a wise decision. The cook’s attention to detail was a little lacking, and he hadn’t seen the man at all between breakfast and when they’d set out from Fort Worth just before noon. He wondered where Cookie had been all that time, and thought he’d smelled liquor on the man’s breath when he took the reins of the chuck wagon. Now that they’d stopped to rearrange the supplies since the chuck wagon was leaning heavily to one side, Cookie had disappeared yet again. He’d have to keep an eye on him during the cattle drive.

Not for the first time, Tom thought about the woman he’d seen earlier. She’d locked eyes with him and the look had sent his heart racing. It made him tingle all over now just thinking about her. But then she’d ducked behind the chuck wagon and disappeared. He’d followed her back there, just to see where she’d gone to, but he hadn’t been able to find hide nor hair of her. She was beautiful, with long dark hair and wide blue eyes. Her skin was a touch too pale and she looked as though she might break in her worn clothing, but her eyes had caught him with their magnetism. He wished he could see her again, just to ask her name.

Thomas pulled the canvas back away from the frame of the wagon and bent to lift the sack of oats onto his shoulder once more. With a grimace, he pushed up under the canvas and was about to throw the sack into the wagon bed when his eyes fell on the girl. She was asleep in the back of the chuck wagon with a tattered bag beside her. A trail of food scraps lay in a circle around her torso on the cheese wheel beneath her – apple cores, bread crumbs and even drips of jam. The look of contentment on her face was sealed with the slightest trace of a smile around the corners of her mouth.

He stared at her a moment in astonishment. What was she doing back here? They’d left the stockyards four hours ago. She must have climbed into the chuck wagon there and fallen asleep, not realizing they were leaving town. He frowned in consternation when he realized the predicament he was now in. He’d have to escort her back to the stockyards and they’d lose hours of travel time. It seemed as though nothing was going right for him today.

He dropped the bag of oats back on the ground, cleared his throat and watched for her response. She shifted without opening her eyes and rolled onto one side, slipping her hands beneath her head and gathering her knees up toward her chest. One long leg protruded from beneath her full skirts, and he saw pale skin above her knee-high stocking that sent a flush of heat to his cheeks.

He coughed, more loudly this time and she sat upright with a start and quickly pulled her skirts close around her ankles. “Excuse me! I’m sorry, I must have fallen asleep.” Her cheeks reddened. At the same time her eyes flashed, almost daring him to admonish her.

“Never mind that – what are you doing in the back of my chuck wagon?” he asked with one eyebrow arched.

“I … well, that is to say, I … I guess I was just hoping to catch a ride. That’s all.”

“A ride?” His eyebrow rose higher still. “To where, pray tell?”

“San Francisco.”

“Is that so? I hate to be the one to bring bad tidings, but we’re not going to San Francisco. And even if we were, it’s highly unlikely we’d want a young girl such as yourself tagging along for the journey.”

“I’m not a girl – I’m eighteen. And I’m not afraid to work for my keep. I’ll ride north with you – you’re going north, aren’t you? – and I’ll find a way to get myself to San Francisco. You won’t have to worry about me.”

“I’m not worried about you, apart from the fact that you’ve mightily inconvenienced me now. I’ll have to return you to Fort Worth, and you’ve apparently already eaten your weight in my food supplies.”

“Well, I’m sorry about that, truly I am – I didn’t mean to. I knew I shouldn’t do it and I wasn’t going to, only I tried one of the apples since they’re so small and you have plenty of them and it really seemed to just whet my appetite more than anything. Anyway, I’ll work off the cost of what I ate, I promise you that. You just tell me what I’m to do and I’ll do it.”

Her eyes narrowed and she moved past him to climb out of the wagon. He offered her his arm, and she leaned on it as she stepped down, her eyes on his. He felt his pulse quicken at her touch, and moisture broke out on his brow.

“Thank you.” She stood in front of him and dropped her gaze to the ground below.

He folded his arms over his chest and surveyed her with his head tipped to one side. He pulled his hat from his head and scratched absently at his thick chestnut locks. “Well, now, I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Let’s just forget about the food. You’ve got to get back to town and I suppose that means I’ve got to take you. It’ll set back my cattle drive at least half a day and I’m none too pleased about that, but there’s nothing can be done about it now. You can ride with me and I’ll tell the men to continue on for a bit until they find a place to set up camp for the night.”

She crossed her arms to match his and stamped a foot in the dust. “I’m not going back and you can’t make me.” She glared daggers at him.

He took a step backward, his hands raised. “Whoa there, what’s the problem? Aren’t you from Fort Worth? Isn’t that where you live? And what’s all this about San Francisco? I’m sure your folks won’t be any too keen on you traveling there alone, or with a bunch of rowdy cowboys. You’d best head back on home and fix whatever rift you have with your loved ones. The trail is no place for a young lady.”

Her face fell and she lowered her voice to almost a whisper, her eyes downcast. “I don’t have any folks, and my problems are my business, I believe. I’m meeting someone in California, and all I’m asking from you is a chance to work my way north. You can leave me wherever you wish, and if it doesn’t work out you can send me home.” She lifted her eyes to his, and the sadness there sent a chill through his chest. “Please, I’m just asking you to give me a chance.”

Thomas knew what kind of trouble a young woman traveling alone could bring to his drive. This was his first time heading up a cattle drive and it was a big one. He had bought three thousand head of longhorn cattle with a large portion of the twenty thousand dollars’ worth of gold he’d found mining in Alder Gulch, Montana the year before. This was his big chance to make something of his life, something Pa would be proud of. He didn’t want anything, or anyone, to make a mess out of all he’d worked so hard to achieve.

Pa was a hard man who’d never given him a word of encouragement in his life. He expected Thomas to make something of himself under his own steam, and he wouldn’t settle for less – he’d told him so a hundred times. The family ranch in Ohio was one of the most successful and prosperous in the entire region. His older brother Harold would inherit it one day, and Pa expected Thomas to build his own business; one hide at a time, as he always said. This drive was his chance to show Pa he could do it. He could make it on his own. And maybe Pa would finally be proud of him, the way he was of Harold.

He swallowed and considered his options. If he took her back to Forth Worth, she might turn right back around. There was no way he could physically stop her from coming back or following them. Then there was the time he’d lose – every day they spent on the trail cost him money and time, lowered the condition of the cattle and raised the likelihood of something going wrong. He had to get this entire herd bedded down in Paradise Valley before the cruel weather of the cold Montana winter hit hard.

That gave them only three months to get there. They’d left much later in the season that he’d hoped to, and though he estimated they’d be able to travel fifteen miles per day and still keep the stock in good shape, they’d be pushing it to make it in time. In fact, it was highly unlikely they’d make it before the first snow fell even at that rate. They couldn’t afford to miss even one day of travel if they wanted to reach Montana Territory before the weather changed.

“All right, I’ll give you a chance. I hope you can cook, since you’ll be working with Cookie to feed a crowd of hungry cowboys – but so help me, you cause me any trouble at all, you’re going back.” He slapped his hat with his hand to emphasize the point, then pressed it firmly on his head.

“Oh, I can cook, don’t you worry about that. Thank you so much … Mister …?”

“O’Reilly – Thomas O’Reilly. And you are?”

“I’m Genevieve Waters, but you can call me Genny. I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. O’Reilly. You won’t regret this, I promise you – I’ll cause no trouble at all and I’ll work hard.” She stretched out her hand and Thomas shook it.

Her touch sent a pulse of electricity through him, and he quickly withdrew his hand. He nodded and lifted the heavy bag of oats into the back of the chuck wagon, settling it beside the wheels of cheese, then fixed the canvas back in place, pulling it taut against the timber frame. “You’d best come with me to meet Cookie, then.”

She followed him to the front of the wagon.

What in heaven’s name have I gotten myself into now? He shook his head silently and grimaced. It was likely they’d have any number of trials ahead of them on this journey. The last thing he needed was a pretty young woman to distract the men and potentially cause division. Well, there was nothing he could do about it now – and truth be told, he was relieved she’d be helping Cookie. There was something that felt not quite right about that man, and it would be good to have a backup, just in case.

He turned his head to take in her profile – she really was very pretty.

I can’t think of her that way. I can’t afford to be distracted. This cattle drive is my chance, an opportunity to really make something of myself. I can’t let anyone, not even a beautiful woman who makes my breath catch in my throat and my skin tingle with a single touch, get in the way of that.

Chapter Three

Cora Hapsberg pulled the door to her room closed and turned the key in the lock. Mr. and Mrs. Cole had been so kind as to allow her a padlock on the door to the room she rented from them, and she took every opportunity to ensure she used it. Not that she didn’t trust them, but their teenage son Harris had been caught snooping in her room on more than one occasion, and his pimpled face and vacant eyes gave her the chills.

She shifted her reticule into one hand and balanced the apple pie she’d baked earlier that morning on the other. She needed an excuse to drop by Genevieve’s and the pie was just that excuse. Fred could never turn her away when she brought baked goods with her, and she was beginning to worry about Genevieve.

She’d waited for her outside the church after the service the previous morning, but Genevieve never showed up. It wasn’t like her to miss a church service – she was there every week without fail. Genevieve hated spending her days in the house with Fred and got away whenever she could. He only let her go out on occasion – church events being one of the few things he allowed her to attend.

Then this morning, Genevieve was supposed to meet her before school. They’d planned to walk to the school together – Cora taught there, and Genevieve had a few things to buy at the market for supper. They got so few chances to speak with one another that they often walked places together, including to school every Monday. It gave them an opportunity to catch up and Fred would be none the wiser. She had never understood his insistence upon shutting Genevieve off from the rest of the world, but she knew how much it pained Genevieve to discuss him, so she tried not to pry.

She hurried down the lane and up the country road. She boarded with the Coles on the outskirts of Fort Worth, and Genevieve’s house wasn’t more than a mile out of town on a small parcel of land. By the time she got there, the pie had cooled in her hands and beads of sweat had formed along her forehead. She wiped a sleeve over her face to dry the moisture and raised her knuckles to knock on the door.

Only silence greeted her. She scanned the front yard, noting the broken plow overgrown with weeds, the dilapidated fence surrounding the small pigpen and the dirty brown chickens running and scratching around the driveway. Fred’s horse was missing. The wagon sat empty by the barn behind the house. She hurried over to it and peeked inside the barn. Fred’s saddle and bridle weren’t where they usually hung on the wall.

She strode back to the house and pushed open the front door. Fred had never felt the need to get a lock, other than the latch key that would hold the door closed once they were inside. She wandered around the living area, noting the bottle of moonshine on the table beside two empty cups and dirty plates.

Where are you, Genevieve? It was obvious that Fred had left. But where was Genevieve? He hadn’t taken the wagon, and she couldn’t have ridden on the horse for long with him.

She walked outside, still carrying the pie, and scurried across the road to a shack that sat on the road’s edge. Its broken porch was an eyesore, and she noted the absence of smoke above the cold chimney. Perhaps Quincey was home - although it didn’t look promising. If he was there, he’d know where to find Fred. “Quincey, are you there?” she called.

No answer. She didn’t like the idea of entering his house – she was sure she’d catch some kind of infectious disease just by stepping inside. She pushed his front door ajar and poked her head in. The stench of rotting food and body odor hit her full in the face and she coughed. She covered her mouth with one hand and called out again. “Are you there, Quincey?”

There was no response. Where is everyone?

Back outside, she looked for his nag of a horse, but the yard was empty. She saw his milk cow, skinny and forlorn, tied to a broken fence paling, and a dog nosing around the water pump. Poor creatures. How long since they were fed, I wonder? She lay down her reticule and the pie and set about feeding every animal she could find. She let the cow loose and filled its water trough, fed the dog and the chickens and the three shoats in the pigpen, then quickly washed up before gathering her things to head back into town.

Now she was more worried than ever about Genevieve. Perhaps Genevieve was simply in town, or visiting someone. It seemed highly unlikely she’d gone anywhere with Fred, but she supposed it was possible. She’d check again the next day. Hopefully Genevieve would be back at home and she’d find that nothing terrible had happened to her friend after all.

Chapter Four

Bill Hanover tickled Sarah’s ear with his beard and nuzzled into her neck to kiss her golden skin. “I love kissing you right here, Sarah Songan-Hanover,” he laughed, and kissed again, enjoying the goose-bumping of her skin beneath his touch.

“Mmmm …,”she murmured, then laughed. “We’ll never catch up with the cattle drive this way. We’re already running two weeks late. Come now, husband, we have to focus.” She playfully swatted him away from her neck and smiled into his dark eyes.

He’d grown a beard since they left Cutter’s Creek on the day of their wedding, and she thought it suited him. He looked like a true cowboy now, with his scraggly beard, weathered hat, red neckerchief and black leather chaps. He sat beside her on the hard wagon bench seat, the reins dangled loosely in his hands as Purdy plodded on. It had been a long journey from Cutter’s Creek, Montana into Texas. They’d stopped at various places along the way where Bill could find work.

The last place they’d settled was in Kansas, on a ranch where Bill helped with odd jobs around the place. Then when they’d left for Fort Worth, Purdy had gone lame, setting them back a couple of weeks. But they’d managed to stop in the nearest town to send a telegram to Thomas O’Reilly, Bill’s soon-to-be employer, to let him know. Thomas had told them to meet up with the rest of the group on the banks of the Red River, at the border between Texas and the Indian Territory, where the drive would meet the Chisholm Trail – a trail that would take them all the way into Kansas.

“Yes, my darling wife – you’re right, of course. Hiyaaaa!” He slapped the reins lightly on Purdy’s back. Sarah snuggled into Bill’s side and slipped her hand through the crook of his arm. She leaned her head against his strong shoulder and hummed a soft tune as they rode.

Before long they came to a small clearing beside a river where a group of schooners had congregated. The drivers of the wagons were conferring together as they pulled up alongside them. “Afternoon,” Bill greeted them with a wave.

“And to you,” called back one of the men. “Where’re you headed?”

“Red River.”

“Well, you found it. We just crossed and are setting out on the Chisholm Trail now. Good luck to you.” The man turned his wagon around and the group rolled off across the plains.

Keep reading… (Of Peaks & Prairies)

Also by Vivi Holt

Cowboys & Debutantes

Della

Hattie

Dalton

Paradise Valley *

Of Peaks and Prairies

Winds of Paradise

* Available in e-book, paperback and audio book

Cutter’s Creek

The Strong One

The Betrothed

Cherished

Season of Love

Captivated

Beguiled

Orphan Brides Go West

Mail Order Bride: Christy

Mail Order Bride: Ramona

Mail Order Bride: Katie

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About the Author

Vivi Holt was born in Australia. She grew up in the country, where she spent her youth riding horses at Pony Club, and adventuring through the fields and rivers around the farm. Her father was a builder, turned saddler, and her mother a nurse, who stayed home to raise their four children.

After graduating from a degree in International Relations, Vivi moved to Atlanta, Georgia to work for a year. It was there that she met her husband, and they were married three years later. She spent seven years living in Atlanta and travelled to various parts of the United States during that time, falling in love with the beauty of that immense country and the American people.

Vivi also studied for a Bachelor of Information Technology, and worked in the field ever since until becoming a full-time writer in 2016. She now lives in Brisbane, Australia with her husband and three small children. Married to a Baptist pastor, she is very active in her local church.

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Copyright © 2017 by Vivi Holt

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No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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