they were busted, the three teenage boys on the outside of the corral left Andrew high and dry and bolted for the pickup truck in the driveway. Dylan and Emily made no move to stop them as they peeled out—their concern was for the trapped, shaking boy, and the three horses who sensed danger.
“Easy, now, Ginger.” Dylan entered the enclosure. Head bowed, Dylan turned his shoulder toward the mare and tried to draw her in. She was having none of it. Her eyes were on the quaking boy behind him. Emily opened the gate, moving slowly and quickly, and slid inside, too.
While Dylan talked to the mustangs, urging Salt and Pepper to stay calm, Emily grabbed a hold of Andrew’s arm. She guided him outside the corral and shut the gate behind them.
Dylan continued soothing the three mustangs. When all were calm, he eased out of the gate and strode toward Emily and Andrew.
“Keep him here,” Dylan ordered before striding into the house.
Embarrassed and surly, Andrew yelled, “Go ahead—call my mom. I don’t care.”
What had happened to the once-sweet boy, Emily wondered. Who was this angry, defiant stranger?
Andrew wheeled on her. “Maybe you’ll fire me from the café now, too.”
“Is that what you want?” Emily asked, shocked.
“I want to do what I want, when I want.”
“Andrew, you’re only fifteen. You don’t want to start doing things that will earn you a criminal record.”
Andrew shrugged. “Maybe it’s in my blood. Maybe I’m just like my dad,” he asserted, as Dylan returned. “Maybe I belong in jail, too.”
Was that what this was about? Emily shot a troubled look at Dylan.
Andrew glared at Dylan. “I don’t know what the big deal is,” he said angrily. “I didn’t really do anything.”
“You were trespassing, and you could have been killed,” Dylan reprimanded sternly. “That’s plenty.”
Andrew fumed. “What did my mom say? Is she coming to get me?”
“I didn’t speak with her.” Dylan looked at Andrew without apology. “I spoke with the sheriff’s department. They have a patrol car in the area. Deputy Rio Vasquez will be here momentarily to take you into custody.”
Custody! “Was that really necessary?” Emily asked Dylan, after Andrew had been cuffed, read his rights and taken to the station.
“What would you have had me do?” Dylan stalked back into the ranch house, as impatient with her as she was with him.
“You should have called Simone!”
“The sheriff’s department can do that.” Dylan shoved his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans and picked up his keys.
Emily followed him out to the pickup truck.
“This could have been handled privately.”
Dylan disagreed. “If we don’t hold him accountable, all this will be is a close call and an incentive to do more the next time.”
Dylan caught her by the shoulders and continued before she could interrupt, “And make no mistake about it, Emily, there will be a next time—unless something happens to shake some sense into Andrew and get him off this path.”
Her emotions in turmoil, Emily glared at Dylan. “What makes you so sure of that? Maybe what happened tonight is the wake-up call Andrew needs, to straighten up.”
Dylan let go of her, and stepped back. “I’m not changing my mind, Emily.”
She thought of all the devastation Simone had been through the past couple of years, first with the shock of her husband being arrested for masterminding a burglary ring and sent to jail, the resultant divorce, and now Andrew’s incessant “attitude” and rebellion. Surely, Simone didn’t deserve to relive the nightmare of her husband’s tangles with the law, with her only son. “Not even if I beg you to reconsider, for the sake of my friends?” Emily asked plaintively.
Dylan shook his head. “Not even then.”
* * *
“I’VE NEVER SEEN IT so deserted in here,” Hank remarked, when he came into the café the next morning, accompanied by a debonair gentleman she didn’t recognize.
Emily looked at her older brother. Since he’d gotten married, the ex-Marine had become as hopelessly romantic as their parents. Like Greta and Shane, Hank wanted to see everyone he loved happily paired up. Unfortunately, Emily thought, thinking back to her own love life—or sudden lack thereof—such a fate was not in the cards for everyone. Especially not her and Dylan Reeves, the spectacular sex they’d had notwithstanding...
“The Cowtown Diner is having its grand opening this morning,” Emily explained.
“Yeah,” Hank commiserated. “The line was around the block when the doors opened at six this morning.”
Emily bristled, the betrayal she felt as unexpected as it was intense. “Did you and Ally eat there?” she asked her older brother.
Hank frowned. “Of course not. But I probably will at some point. Got to support all the businesses in town, you know. And speaking of business...I’d like you to meet Aaron Markham. He’s a tax attorney and CPA from Dallas.”
Emily welcomed the nice-looking man in the gray suit. “Nice to meet you.”
“Since you’re not busy, maybe you could sit down for a few minutes and chat with us,” Hank suggested.
“How about I bring you-all some coffee and a few menus first?” Emily suggested.
She gave them their choice of tables and hurried off.
Aaron Markham seemed like a pleasant and personable man. Her brother meant well. She could not have been less interested.
Until the door to the café opened and closed and Dylan Reeves walked in, that was.
Their eyes locked.
Emily felt a thrill go through her, followed swiftly by anger.
She carried the coffeepot over to the table. Hank tracked the direction of her gaze. “Yeah...” he murmured. “I heard what happened at Dylan’s ranch last night.”
“Then you also know how wrong he was!” Not waiting for her brother’s take on the situation, Emily stalked over to Dylan’s table. “A word with you, please?”
Dylan gestured to the other side of the booth. “Have a seat.”
He only wished she were that malleable! Emily gritted her teeth. “I’d prefer to take this outside.”
Dylan rose with exaggerated chivalry. “After you.”
Emily ushered the incorrigible rancher through the back door, into the alley.
