He grinned. “How about if I just come up to the house and get you?”
Oooh. Great smile. She curled her toes into the leather soles of her boots. “That works.”
Emmett put an arm around her shoulders and kissed her on the forehead. “If you go riding later on, see if somebody will loan you a hat.”
She glanced up at him. “Why do I need one?”
“For the most part, to keep you from being sunburned.”
“Dad, I surf every weekend, and nobody wears a hat while they’re on a surfboard. I have a good base tan and I have sunglasses. That’s enough.”
Her father looked over at Clay. “Would you see that she puts on a hat before she goes out? I know we have extras lying around somewhere.”
“Excuse me.” Emily inserted herself between the two men. “I will not be treated like an obstinate female who needs to be managed by the men who know more than she does.”
Clay laughed. “Then don’t be obstinate. Wear a hat.”
“Why should I?” She was intrigued by the fact that he was joking with her instead of getting irritated. She liked that kind of easygoing attitude.
“Because you’re at a higher altitude here than you’re used to, so the ozone layer’s thinner and you could still burn. Besides that, if you’re going to help me this afternoon, you’re going to sweat, and the hat will keep the sweat from running in your eyes. I suppose you could wear a do-rag, instead, but personally I think the hat would look better on you.”
Well, then. She hadn’t thought about the value of a hat as an accessory. She should have, after being conditioned in that direction for most of her twenty-seven years by her fashion-conscious mother. If Clay thought she’d look better in a hat, no further argument was needed.
She turned to Sarah, who had been standing to one side watching the action with obvious amusement. “Got a hat I might be able to borrow?”
Sarah nodded. “Come with me.”
3
EMMETT GLANCED AT Clay. “Look, I hope she won’t be in your way this afternoon. I didn’t ask what you had on your agenda.”
And Clay wasn’t at liberty to discuss that. “It’ll be fine.” He would make it so, regardless of his strong attraction to the golden California girl.
“I invited her to come with me so she could do some shopping—my treat, of course. To my surprise, she wanted to stay here, instead.”
“Huh.” That surprised Clay, too.
“I know. I thought she loved to shop. Three years ago when she came to the ranch, we made a couple of trips into Shoshone, but the stores there aren’t what she’s used to. So when I took her back to the airport, we built in extra time for her to browse through those fancy places in Jackson.”
“She was here three years ago, then. I wondered how often she’d made it over.”
Emmett looked sad. “Not often enough, but I can’t blame her for that. It works both ways. Like I told her this morning, I could have made more trips to Santa Barbara.”
“Yeah, but …” Clay thought of the freeways and the traffic snarls and grimaced.
“I don’t relish that area, either. But until this time, I didn’t think she relished staying on the ranch—yet she comes to see me, even so.”
“What do you mean until this time?”
Emmett rubbed the back of his neck. “I took her on a tour of the barn, like always. In the past, she acted like that was no big deal. I could tell she liked the horses, but she wouldn’t let herself really get into it. I figured her mother had brainwashed her pretty damned well. But this morning was different. Apparently she’s starting to think for herself.”
“That’s great.” Clay hoped the foreman wasn’t making too much of a passing fancy on Emily’s part. He didn’t want the guy to get his hopes up that Emily would suddenly turn into a cowgirl.
“I know what you’re thinking, son.”
Clay’s chest tightened with emotion. He loved having Emmett call him son, even though he knew that cowboys used that word loosely and Emmett probably didn’t mean it in a literal sense. “I’m not thinking anything, Emmett,” he said.
“Sure you are. You’re thinking that I’m an old fool who imagines his daughter is going to magically fall in love with ranching.”
Clay sighed. “You’re not an old fool, but it would be only natural if you—”
“Don’t worry. I made that mistake with her mother. I knew California was where Jeri wanted to be, but I thought I could convince her otherwise.”
Something in Emmett’s expression told Clay that those wounds had never healed. That might be another reason Emmett hadn’t taken many trips to see Emily. He would have had to see his ex, too, which would have been painful if he was still in love with her.
Clay thought he might be and wondered if Pam Mulholland had any inkling of that. The two had been dating for more than a year without making a commitment. Emmett said that was because Pam had way more money than he did, but that might not be the whole story.
By now the dining room was empty except for Clay, Emmett and Watson, who had recently started helping Mary Lou clear the dishes in exchange for extra dessert.
Mary Lou bustled over, her gray hair in disarray as usual and her cheeks pink from working in a warm kitchen. “Did you two get enough to eat? I’m about to serve Watson an extra piece of cherry pie, and you’re welcome to have a second serving if you want one.”
Emmett patted his flat stomach. “Thanks, Mary Lou, but I couldn’t fit in another bite. You outdid yourself again.”
“Thanks, Emmett.” She beamed at the praise. “I do love my job. How about you, Clay? More pie?”
“It’s tempting, but no thanks.”
“All right, then.” She began stacking the dessert plates from each place setting at their table.
Watkins came out of the kitchen and headed toward them. “Hey, quit doing my job, Lou-Lou.”
Her cheeks turned a shade pinker. “Then speed it up there, Watkins. We need to get this place clean.”
“We will, we will. Leave those for me and go cut me a nice big piece of your delicious pie. And put some ice cream on top.” The stocky cowboy winked at her as he reached for the dishes in her hand.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. If you insist.” She handed over the dishes and walked back toward the kitchen.
Instead of stacking plates, Watkins gazed after her. “What a woman.”
Clay watched in fascination. He’d thought something might be going
