EXPECTED A stallion, from a thoroughbred bloodline. Instead, she found a brown-and-white quarter horse–thoroughbred mix that would likely have ended up who-knows-where had someone not stepped in and seen the potential. The gelding came closer to Emily. He stuck his head over the stall door, lowered his head and sniffed her hair, and then her face. Emily reached up to stroke his face as his warm breath ghosted over her. His eyes were alert but gentle, and she found his presence calming and reassuring. Emily took the apple Dylan handed her and presented it to his horse. “What’s his name?”
“Hercules.”
Able to feel the strength emanating from the horse’s sleekly muscled build, Emily smiled. “It suits him.” And the horse, who was anything but blue-blooded, suited Dylan.
Dylan offered Hercules a carrot. Hercules took it and luxuriated in a nose rub from Dylan, too.
Emily’s heart warmed at the overwhelming affection between man and horse. She turned to Dylan. “How long have you been riding?”
“Since I was fifteen.”
Unable to resist, she prodded a little more. “Did you grow up on a ranch?”
Once again, she thought, in the silence that followed her question, it was like trying to get information out of a spy sworn to secrecy. Finally, Dylan said, “No. I spent time on one later, and that’s when I learned to ride.”
“And realized your calling was horses.”
“More or less.” He looked at his watch.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Emily grumbled good-naturedly. “Time’s up. But not before I say goodbye to everyone.” She headed for the paddock situated between the round pens and stood looking at the three mustangs. They were gathered together on the opposite side of the corral, ears moving, nostrils flexing, clearly relaxed.
Scattered among other paddocks and turnout sheds in the distance were other horses Dylan was working with. They all looked pleasantly settled and were enjoying the warm spring night, too. Thinking how much she loved the peace and the tranquility of this ranch, Emily turned back to Dylan and let her enthusiasm be her guide. “When are you going to start training the mustangs?”
He lifted one large hand in an indolent manner. “I’m going to work with Salt and Pepper tomorrow morning.”
As he spoke, Salt and Pepper approached them, one coming up on either side of them. First, they nosed the wooden rails and then eventually came over to Emily to investigate her. After several long moments, they put their heads on Emily’s shoulders for a nuzzle.
These young ones weren’t going to be that difficult to train, Emily thought, as she rubbed their faces and touched their manes. Already, they seemed used to people.
The three-year-old mare, on the other hand, was going to require more intensive schooling. Emily wanted to see how it was done. She turned to Dylan, watching as the two yearlings went over to greet him, too. “When will you work with Ginger?”
Dylan accepted their nuzzling with a grin. “Late afternoon, tomorrow.”
Emily eyed the beautiful mare, who had moved closer but not close enough to touch. “Mind if I come and observe and maybe help a little?”
Dylan lifted a brow. “Sure you got time for that?”
It wasn’t an invitation exactly, but it wasn’t an edict to stay away, either. Emily smiled. “There’s always time for something you want to do.” And she really, really wanted to do this.
“Looking at the Cowtown Diner is not going to make it disappear.”
Guiltily, Emily moved away from the front window. Five more minutes, and the Daybreak Café would officially be closed. But with the exception of the tall, handsome cowboy standing next to her, it had been a ghost town for the past hour.
“There hasn’t been a lull in the activity over there all day.” Utility trucks had come and gone for gas, electricity, water and sewer. Safety inspections had been done, a neon light on the front of the diner turned on and tested.
Emily wanted to protest the burnished bronze exterior of the diner didn’t fit in with the historic buildings on their side of the green, any more than proprietor Xavier Shillingsworth fit in Laramie. But the truth was the snazzy exterior and old-style-saloon design of the building added the kind of pizzazz that would have passing tourists stopping in droves.
Emily scowled. “There’s a lot to do if they’re going to open in two days.”
Dylan laid a soothing hand on her shoulder. He leaned down to murmur in her ear, “You keep saying if.”
Emily blew out a gusty breath. “Wishful thinking, I guess.”
Dylan said matter-of-factly, “People are going to go there, to try it out and see what they think.”
Their glances meshed. “You think I don’t know that?” She turned away from the window and headed back to the booth Dylan had just vacated. She picked up his empty coffee cup and dessert plate and carried both to the kitchen.
Dylan ambled after her. “Once the newness wears off, they’ll be back.”
The point was, Emily didn’t want to lose any customers in the first place. And really, how selfish was that?
Dylan was about to say something else, when the front door opened and slammed shut. Andrew walked in, book bag slung over his shoulder. “Mom!” he yelled.
Simone came out of the back.
Andrew thrust a paper at her. “I just got a job at the Cowtown Diner!”
Emily blinked in surprise.
“You already have a part-time job here,” Simone reminded him.
Andrew shot her a look. “No offense, Miss Emily, but the diner is a much more awesome place to work. All my friends at school are getting jobs there. Everyone who works there has to be either in high school or college.”
Or roughly Xavier’s age, Emily thought, not sure whether that was a good or bad idea.
“So...can I?” Andrew asked his mom.
Emily looked at Simone. She did not want to put her friend on the spot. “Look, it’s okay...”
“No,” Simone said firmly, “it’s not. Andrew, you have a part-time job here and you are going to honor that commitment.”
A mother-son stare-down commenced.
Simone won.
“Fine!” Andrew slammed out the back.
An awkward silence followed.
“Sorry,” Simone finally said, clearly upset.
“If you need to go ahead and leave for the day,”
