The Perfect Homecoming (Pine River #3)

“Wow, you did come,” Madeline said, nodding approvingly as Emma slipped in beside Libby. “I guess I owe you five bucks, Libs.”


Emma smiled wryly. Madeline did not approve of her, but that didn’t bother Emma; she figured Madeline was right to be wary of her. “I had to come, sweetie,” Emma said with false lightness. “I couldn’t risk missing out on the minutiae of your wedding plans, could I? We’ll be reviewing them in detail again tonight, I assume.”

“Every last one,” Madeline said, and actually laughed. She seemed to be in an unusually jovial mood tonight, because she winked at Emma. “Even you can’t bring me down.”

Emma smiled. “I wouldn’t dream of it. I hope the wedding is everything you ever wanted and more.”

Madeline paused, waiting for a punch line.

There was no punch line—Emma did wish that for her. “Just because I don’t want to hear about it every waking moment doesn’t mean I don’t wish you the best.”

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t necessarily mean you do, either,” Madeline cheerfully pointed out. “Okay, so?” she chirped, leaning forward. “What’s going on with the hunk who appeared from thin air?”

Emma looked between the two women. “You realize that you sound like a fourteen-year-old girl,” she said, sinking back into the seat cushions.

“I can’t help that I’m excited that someone interesting has come into town for you.”

“I think I’m vaguely insulted,” Emma said, and twisted around. “Where the hell is the waiter? Why does it always take two mules and a cart to get a drink in this town?”

“Emma,” Madeline said, tapping her hand. “Are you going to tell us?”

There would be no escaping it, apparently. Emma supposed she’d known that the moment she’d spotted them in the booth, engrossed in conversation, their dark heads leaning across the table toward each other as she sauntered over to them. She’d had a prickly feeling that they were talking about her.

But she wasn’t ready to talk just yet, at least not before she had a drink, and even then she didn’t know what she’d tell them. “What is it about everyone in this town?” she complained with a flick of her wrist. “Is it possible for a man and woman to exchange a few words without everyone trying to put a ring on it? It’s ridiculous.”

“Avoiding the question!” Madeline called out, pointing at her like a courtroom attorney. “No one is trying to put a ring on it. We just want to know who he is. I mean, it’s not like total strangers show up at Homecoming Ranch every day.”

“What are you talking about? Total strangers show up all the time. We do destination events, remember? We run a veterans’ rehab center.”

“Okay, they don’t show up for you,” Madeline amended.

“Fine,” Emma said, giving in. “He thinks I have something that belongs to a guy we both know. He had to come to Colorado for something or other, I don’t know, and he stopped by to ask about it.” She lifted her palms up to indicate that was all there was.

“That’s it? That’s the reason he came all the way out to Homecoming Ranch? Why didn’t he just call you? If he knew you were there, he must have had your number.”

“I don’t know,” Emma said, squirming a bit. “What are you, a detective?”

“He’s so hot,” Libby enthusiastically continued, nudging Emma. “I mean, I’m totally in love with Sam, but I think that guy is freaking hot.”

Inexplicably, that annoyed Emma even more. “Jesus, is sex all you guys think about?”

“It’s not all we think about,” Madeline said.

Emma groaned with exasperation. “I would really like to speak to a waiter.” She looked back over her shoulder. “I could have downed two drinks by now.”

“Wait, I’m confused,” Libby said. “Who’s the guy you and Cooper both know? And what does he think you have?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know? You mean that totally hot Cooper came all the way out to the ranch, without calling, to ask for something back from that guy and you don’t know what he was asking for? Something doesn’t smell right,” Madeline pressed. “Like, why you, why he came here, why didn’t the other guy come himself, what he thinks you have—”

“A medal, okay?” Emma said, interrupting Madeline. She managed to catch the waiter’s eye; he started for their table.

“A medal!” Libby exclaimed loudly, as if she’d never heard the word before. “What kind of medal?”

“I don’t know, Libby, a medal. How should I know? A glass of cabernet,” she said to the waiter, who appeared tableside.

Madeline and Libby ordered drinks, and Libby ordered an appetizer. “I don’t know why, but I am so hungry all the time,” she said sheepishly.

“Maybe you’re pregnant,” Emma suggested. “You should get a pregnancy test on the way home.”

Libby’s eyes rounded. “No!” she said, and laughed nervously. “No, I can’t be.”

“She’s not pregnant,” Madeline said.