A Town Called Valentine: A Valentine Valley Novel (20 page)

BOOK: A Town Called Valentine: A Valentine Valley Novel
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Brooke and Monica would be a good place to start. She was already relying on Nate enough, and it was obvious
he
didn’t want her to lean on him. It seemed . . . confusing to turn to him for entertainment, for renovations, for . . . hell, for foreplay, then consult him about her biological father. She wouldn’t get too dependent on him. He’d be hurt as badly as she would. She’d spent the last ten years being dependent on a man who’d given her every indication that he was dependable—until the worst happened.

She refused to go back to that woman who couldn’t seem to leave her bed last year. She was going forward one step at a time, and that was all she could ask of herself.

Chapter Seventeen

 

T
he next morning, Emily was in the back room of the flower shop making bows when Monica called out, “Em, there’s someone who wants to talk to you.”

Emily came through the door, then stopped in surprise on seeing Josh Thalberg standing at the counter, carrying a closed box.

“Hi, Josh,” Emily said, staring with interest at the box.

“Josh said you hadn’t been formally introduced,” Monica said doubtfully, “and I was to do the honors.”

Emily smiled at Josh, who returned the smile in a slow, aw-shucks way that was endearing. “We spoke once, but without exchanging names. And then I saw you at the ranch,” she said to Josh. “We never did get to say two words to each other yesterday.”

“Damn cows,” he said, nodding.

Monica spread her hands wide. “Ookay. Emily Murphy, this is Josh Thalberg.”

Josh put the box on the counter, and they shook hands. “Nice to finally meet you, Emily.”

“You, too.” She gestured to the box. “Can I help you with something?”

He gave Monica an apologetic glance. “Emily and I discussed selling my work on consignment, and I wondered if you’d mind if we continued?”

“No problem,” Monica said. “I’ve got an arrangement to work on. Thanks for your business, Josh. Em, I can answer any questions later.” Then she disappeared into the workroom.

Emily smiled. “You might regret wanting to work with me. I’m pretty new at all this.”

“I thought it was only fair to show you my work since you were the one who persuaded me to give it a try.”

“I didn’t drag you in off the street—that was your idea. But let’s stop praising each other and see what you’ve got.”

He opened the box, and one by one set his work on the counter.

She gasped at the leather-framed mirror, intricately tooled with a Western desert sunset. “Oh, Josh, you’re so talented!”

He didn’t say anything, only brought out several frames tooled with mountain cowboy life, as well as leather journals and wallets done in flowers and vines, and belts with stamped geometric patterns. Lastly, he showed her two purses, one covered in daisies with a long strap, and the other a clutch with a swirling pattern. “These last two are what I’ve been working on since you mentioned them.”

“That quickly?” she said in surprise.

“I already had the leather. Just had to cut it out and begin work. I looked through Brooke’s closet for ideas in regard to size, then did some research on the Internet. Do you think these will sell?”

The stitching was done in leather to look Western, but it was meticulous and snug. The inside was well lined. “Josh, these are so unique. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised how well they’ll sell. We’ll have to talk about the price you should ask for. Your Internet research will probably come in handy there. But first—how the heck do you have time to do this? It seems ranch life is twenty-four hours a day. Do you have any kind of social life at all?”

He shrugged and seemed to redden a bit as he stared out the window. “I like to keep busy. There’s something about this work that just . . . calls to me. And the family knows and respects the time I give myself.”

She found herself wishing she could ask Nate about Josh’s talent but didn’t know if that was going too far. She was consulting him about her most personal problems, but she shouldn’t want the same from him.

“E
mily, you have another visitor,” Monica called from the showroom.

Again?
Emily put aside her pen after recording the last of Josh’s crafts as she sorted through them. It couldn’t be Nate, when they would be seeing each other that afternoon. She walked into the showroom and saw a short middle-aged woman with black hair framing her face. She held a cane in one hand, and her eyes fastened on Emily with interest.

Emily glanced at Monica, who grinned, and said, “Emily, this is Sandy Thalberg.”

Nate’s mother.
Curious and excited at the same time, Emily put out a hand, but to her surprise, Mrs. Thalberg gave her a big hug. Flustered, but pleased, Emily laughed. “Mrs. Thalberg, it’s so wonderful to meet you. I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to meet when I delivered arrangements yesterday.”

“I was disappointed, too,” Mrs. Thalberg said, studying Emily with friendly eyes. “Please call me Sandy. Otherwise, I won’t know if you’re talking about me or my mother-in-law. She and Brooke always speak of you fondly, as do my boys.”

Emily highly doubted that Nate and Josh said much about her at all, but she didn’t bring that up. “Your whole family has been so welcoming. And I wouldn’t have had a clue about my building renovations without Nate’s help. Please, have a seat,” she added, gesturing to the wrought-iron chair near her pastry display.

“You’ve got to try Emily’s croissants,” Monica gushed.

“My mother-in-law raves about your baking,” Sandy said, taking a seat and accepting the croissant Monica handed her on a napkin. Sandy took a big bite, then hummed her approval.

Emily knew she was probably blushing.

“Oh, Emily, my family was right about your cooking,” Sandy said, even as she licked a crumb from her lip. “I’ve come here to ask you to Sunday dinner, but after eating this, I’m worried my cooking will pale in comparison.”

Emily saw Monica give her a wide-eyed glance, and inside, she felt a little thrill of her own, followed quickly by concern for Nate’s reaction. “Mrs. Thal—Sandy, you’re too nice.”

“Well, I try to be, but I don’t have to try about this. I guess I’ll ask you to dinner and take my chances.”

Emily smiled, knowing she was too curious to refuse. Nate would just have to understand. “Thank you so much. I’d love to come. And please, I’d like to contribute. Let me bring dessert.”

“Then I’m off the hook for having to compete with this.” Sandy ate another bite, watching her. “I hear you helped herd the cattle.”

“No, I clung for dear life to your husband, while he herded the cattle.” Emily laughed. “It was a wild, exciting ride.”

“It’s not a job for the faint of heart,” Sandy said, shaking her head. “You have to love it, and love the life. The long days can be grueling, but being together as a family makes everything worthwhile.”

Emily could have melted inside at the warmth and contentment in Sandy’s voice. After a terrible beginning as a young woman, she’d found everything she ever wanted, children, a home. Emily wanted to change her life, too, and for just a moment, she imagined doing it here, in Valentine, with those mountains standing guard, and the wide-open, vivid blue sky proving that anything was possible. She felt suddenly empty imagining those mountains replaced with towering concrete.

She found herself blurting, “I’ve learned so much in the few weeks I’ve been in town. Life in Valentine Valley is so different from San Francisco.”

“I hope you consider that a good thing.” Sandy lowered her voice as Monica went to wait on a customer.

“It’s made me see things in a different way. Frankly, I’ve felt more relaxed here, more at peace with the decisions I’ve made. I was pretty unhappy when I got here, but now I know things will work out.”

“Because you’ll make it happen.” Sandy smiled. “Sometimes all we can hope is to be at peace with our decisions, especially after a bad marriage. I’m not sure Nate told you, but I can relate to your problems.”

“Yes, Nate mentioned your first husband. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

Sandy’s husband left her because she had been diagnosed with MS—not too different from Greg’s leaving her over not being able to have children. And in that moment, it all rushed back on Emily, the sadness, the emptiness. But it didn’t overwhelm her. Suddenly, she realized that Sandy had touched her hand and now gave it a supportive squeeze.

They smiled at each other.

The flower-shop door jingled as it was opened, and Nate strode in. Dressed in jeans and a polo shirt, hat in his hand, he came up short when he saw the three women, and his gaze focused on Sandy touching Emily’s hand.

Monica chuckled and escaped into the workroom.

“Hi, Nate,” Sandy said, grinning up at him.

Emily thought her eyes sparkled with mischief, and Emily sat back in her chair to watch Nate’s reaction.

“Hi, Mom,” he said, then glanced at Emily. “I’m early, I know. Sorry.”

Yet his look told her he was glad he’d come early. Emily gave him an innocent smile. “No problem. Come have a croissant with your mom while I get ready to leave.”

Nate watched Emily as she sauntered into the workroom looking way too satisfied. He put his fists on his hips and studied his mom. “Well?”

“Well what?” she asked innocently. “Oh, Nate, you need to try these croissants.”

“I’m saving my appetite. I imagine Emily told you why,” he said dryly.

“Actually, we didn’t talk much about you at all. I take it you and Emily have a date? Where are you taking her?”

“Into Aspen.”

“That makes sense. She shouldn’t travel all this way and not see it. Who knows if she’ll ever get back here?”

That made Nate grit his teeth, but he hid his reaction with a pleasant, “So what brought you into town? Where’s Aunt Marilyn?”

“I came to meet Emily. Marilyn wanted to relax this morning after the trip yesterday. We’re spending the afternoon at the spa up valley. Have you ever had one of their massages? I feel so alive afterward.”

Nate didn’t want to hear spa stories. “You came to meet Emily? Why?”

“Because I didn’t get to meet her yesterday. And since you’ve been spending so much time with her, I thought I should meet the woman who could pull you away from work.” She shrugged her shoulders as if it all made perfect sense.

Had she allied herself with Josh about his spreading himself too thin? She of all people knew what he could accomplish if he set his mind to it. “So now you know she’s a nice woman and a friend. Are you satisfied?”

Sandy laughed. “I am, now that she agreed to come to dinner Sunday.”

Nate briefly closed his eyes on a sigh. “You didn’t think you should talk to me about it?”

She waved a finger at him. “About who I invite to dinner in my own home? Nope. And why would I think there’s a problem since you spend so much time with her?”

Feeling tense, he answered, “There’s not a problem, Mom.”

“And she’s Brooke’s friend, too. And your grandmother’s. Even Josh seems to know her.”

That
didn’t help his tension.

Nate lifted both hands. “Fine, fine, I get it. I’m looking forward to dinner already.”

“That’s good,” she said, rising slowly to her feet and reaching for her cane. She patted his cheek. “So don’t break up with her before Sunday, or it might be awkward for you.”

He opened his mouth but thought better of trying to explain things. “Yes, ma’am.”

She lifted her head, and he leaned down to kiss her cheek.

“Have a good time today,” she said.

Her grin made him grin in return. “Thanks.”

But after his mom left, he remembered the way she’d been touching Emily’s hand when he arrived, the serious, sad looks on both their faces. The memory lingered with him, even while he tried to get Monica to open up about her sister’s tense visit; then it briefly fled his mind when he saw Emily, wearing a short skirt and a V-necked top that showed more of her breasts than he was used to seeing.

She blushed. “Monica loaned this to me, said I needed to blend in in Aspen.”

“No,” Monica countered, “I said she needed to show herself off
to
Aspen.”

“So it’s all about Aspen, and none of it for me?” Nate demanded. He put his arm around Emily and gave her a quick kiss. “I forgive you. I don’t care about the reason as long as I can enjoy the looking.”

“Well, now that you have his forgiveness,” Monica said dryly, “all is right with the world.”

Emily was still chuckling when she hopped up into the pickup. “No Scout?”

“He stayed home today. I wanted you all to myself.” When they left Valentine behind and were driving along Route 82, he said, “I noticed that you and my mom were looking pretty serious when I got there. Everything okay?”

She looked out the window for a long minute, the breeze blowing her red-blond curls about her pretty face. Her expression was briefly pensive before she sighed and gave him a small smile.

“Your mom and I have a lot in common, and not just you,” she said quietly. “We both had lousy marriages to men who weren’t what they seemed.”

Nate kept his eyes on the road. He hadn’t imagined that the two women could so quickly touch on such a sensitive topic when they’d just met. Could women just look at each other and know when they shared something? He knew how his father had treated his mother but had assumed that Emily’s husband had been restless, or had decided he wasn’t in love. Comparing Emily’s situation to his mom’s made it seem so much darker and complex. He gripped the steering wheel tighter at just the thought of Emily being hurt.

“So Greg lied to you?” he asked.

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