Chapter Eleven
CATHY GILLEN THACKER is married and a mother of three. She and her husband spent eighteen years in Texas and now reside in North Carolina. Her mysteries, romantic comedies and heartwarming family stories have made numerous appearances on bestseller lists, but her best reward, she says, is knowing one of her books made someone’s day a little brighter. A popular Mills and Boon author for many years, she loves telling passionate stories with happy endings, and thinks nothing beats a good romance and a hot cup of tea! You can visit Cathy’s website at www.cathygillenthacker.com for more information on her upcoming and previously published books, recipes and a list of her favorite things.
Cathy Gillen Thacker
This is not good, Emily McCabe thought as she led her beloved mare, Maisy, toward the Circle M Ranch stable. Standing just inside the entrance to the barn were all three of her older brothers. Their postures were as inflexible as the set of their jaws, and they appeared to be waiting on her.
The relaxation she’d felt after her Monday afternoon ride was fading fast as Emily studied the trio of determined expressions. “What’s going on?” she asked warily. It had to be something. Otherwise, Jeb would have been looking after his rodeo livestock, Hank would have been tending his cattle, and Holden would have been caring for his quarter horses. Instead, all three ranchers were gathered here on her parents’ property.
Awkward glances were exchanged—the kind that told her this was not an actual emergency. Great, Emily thought. Just what she needed—her wildly overprotective clan butting into her life again.
Looking less rambunctious than usual, Jeb squared his shoulders. “We wanted to talk to you.”
Emily sighed, bored already. She patted Maisy’s silky black mane and led the big bay mare past her brothers, toward her horse’s stall. “About what?”
“Mom and Dad are worried about you.” The always-gallant Holden kept pace. “You’ve put everything you’ve got into the café for two years now. And with the new diner opening...”
They were all acting as if she was about to have her heart broken. “I have a very loyal customer base. It’s not going to cut into my business.”
To her annoyance, her brothers stood their ground.
“On top of that,” Holden continued, “it’s been over a year since you had a date.”
Uh-oh. Now that had an ominous ring. Emily knew her brothers could be ridiculously sexist where she was concerned. They had been that way since she was a kid, something that happened when there was only one girl in a family. It didn’t mean she had to like it.
“So?” Emily unfastened the girths on Maisy’s saddle and lifted it off. She set the saddle and blanket on the cement floor outside the stall. “Since when do you-all care about my social life?” she demanded, aiming a disparaging look their way.
Ignoring her Hank replied pleasantly, “Since we’ve taken it upon ourselves to do you a big favor and help you out.”
Emily liked the sound of that even less. Wordlessly, she removed the rest of Maisy’s tack and heaped it on top of the leather riding gear. She ran an affectionate hand down Maisy’s neck and rubbed her face against her beautiful horse in silent thanks for a great canter across the meadow. Then she stepped outside the stall, shutting the door behind her. While Maisy quenched her thirst from the stall water trough, Emily confronted her three well-meaning but totally idiotic brothers. “Didn’t you learn anything from the last time you guys tried to fix me up?” What an unmitigated disaster that had been! The longest evening on record, followed by an impossibly awkward good-night. She propped her hands on her hips and glared at them. “No more!”
“Normally we’d agree.” All three nodded vigorously. “But that was before Mom figured out who you should be seeing,” Hank explained.
Emily’s heart sank.
She had no doubt her mother meant well, too.
Thanks to more than thirty-six years of happily wedded bliss with the love of her life, there was no one more romantic than her mother. Her father, in his own way, was just as bad although her dad had yet to actually approve of any man she’d dated.
“Tell me you’re pulling my leg here,” Emily pleaded.
“Nope.” Jeb flashed a grin. “Mom’s planning to play matchmaker at tonight’s charity dinner for the Libertyville Boys Ranch.”
There was no way Emily could avoid the fund-raiser. Her Daybreak Café was one of a handful of restaurants in town providing food and beverage for the outdoor event. Plus, it was a worthy cause.
Emily picked up the reins and bridle while Hank carried the saddle and blanket to the tack room. She put the riding equipment away, then turned back to face her brothers. She swept off her flat-brimmed hat and slapped it impatiently against her thigh. “Surely Dad isn’t going to sign on for this foolhardiness.”
If there was anyone who could talk sense into Greta McCabe, it was her husband....
Her three brothers watched as she went to the fridge in the corner and took out a bottle of blackberry-flavored water, kept on hand just for her.
“Actually,” Holden recounted, serious as ever, “Dad thinks Mom might be onto something. You have to admit, you have been one heck of a bum magnet on your own.”
Emily narrowed her eyes. “Thanks, heaps.”
Jeb chuckled. “It’s true, little sis. Who knew there were so many losers in the world till you dragged them all home?”
Emily recalled with startling clarity why she’d had such a hard time with her love life. Part of it was her ability to see the “potential” in just about everyone. The only problem was, most men did not want to be “improved” and certainly not by the woman they were dating. So she constantly had to shelve her need to help. The rest had to do with
