A Town Called Valentine

chapter Thirteen



Nate reached to take Emily’s hand, then stopped himself. He saw both courage and fear in her face and knew that regardless of what had happened in his past, he didn’t have to brace for the unknown like she did.

Doc lifted his head and somberly narrowed his black eyes at Emily. “I remember your mom and her case quite well, but I wanted to confirm my memory before saying anything. She was definitely pregnant before she left town.”

Emily’s shoulders slumped. He couldn’t look away from her face, pale now, with a hint of tears she didn’t let fall. But . . . hadn’t she already known this? Or had some part of her still not wanted to believe?

Her voice trembled as she said, “Is there any mention of my—of the father?”

Doc shook his head. “I remember asking, but she refused to tell me even though I insisted that a young man deserved to know the truth. She said she’d do what was best, and that was the last I ever heard from her. Did see her in town once or twice when you were little, but that was all.”

Emily nodded, biting her lip, then managed a rueful smile. “If you don’t know the father’s name, I’m not sure how to find out. There was only one close friend, and she didn’t know about the pregnancy.”

“Guess you’ve got a mystery.”

Color was returning in splotches to her face, and her voice took on an edge of anger. “My father—the man I thought was my father—died when I was little. But I loved him, and I remember him. Do I really want to know if my mom lied to him as well as me, if she used him? She wasn’t the best mom in the world, but this makes her out to be . . . some kind of monster.”

“Or a frightened teenager,” Doc said neutrally.

“She wasn’t a frightened teenager for long,” Emily said bitterly. “She could have told me many times over the years. But then she always thought she knew best.”

Nate wondered if Emily was remembering her mom’s little talk on her wedding night. Had Delilah meant to spill the secret then and changed her mind?

“Could she have been protecting you?” Nate asked.

She regarded him impassively. “Or protecting someone else? Probably herself. It would have been inconvenient to deal with it all, with the emotions she caused.” She wiped a hand down her face and forced a smile for Doc as she stood up. “I’m sorry. You don’t need to hear all this.”

Doc Ericson came around the desk and took her hand. “Anytime you need to talk, I’m here. Sometimes a neutral person can help make things clearer.”

“Thanks. What do I owe you for the appointment?”

He waved a hand. “Nothing. I didn’t do anything but answer one question.”

“You’re very kind.” She slipped her purse over her shoulder, and said to Nate, “I’m ready to go.”

She was quiet when they got in the pickup, and although he put the keys in the ignition, he didn’t start it up. Should he say something? Comfort her? They were trying to keep each other at a distance, but this was so big.

And then she started to cry, big tears sliding down her cheeks, and he felt absolutely helpless. He drew her into his arms, and she clung to him, her face pressed into his chest. Rubbing her back, he whispered the only words he could, that it would be okay.

At last, her sobs quieted, and only the occasional shiver swept her body. With a sigh, she relaxed against him and let him stroke her hair.

“You’re good at this,” she murmured at last.

“Yep, women cry a lot when they’re with me.”

She glanced up at him in bemusement.

“With gratitude,” he finished solemnly.

She chuckled and pulled away, leaning her head back against the seat and closing her eyes.

“Do you feel okay?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I—I don’t know what I feel. I finally have to accept it, you know? It’s like everything I thought about myself is turned upside down. I’m angry with my mom, I feel sorry for my dad—and then I wonder if he knew. I mean, come on. Wouldn’t you know if a woman had a full-term baby seven months after you met her, or however long it was?”

“Maybe he was so in love, he didn’t count the months—or he didn’t care, especially once he saw you.”

“Damn, you say the sweetest things,” she said ruefully.

“Or maybe he knew from the beginning, and agreed to everything, but died before he could tell you the truth. And your mom . . .”

“Go ahead, find a good excuse for her,” she said bitterly.

“Maybe she loved him, too, and when he died, she only wanted you to remember the best about him.”

She rolled her eyes. “Now you’re giving her too much credit. You didn’t know her. She was a selfish woman, and whatever excuse she made to be able to sleep at night, believe me, it was all about her.”

There was nothing he could say to that, but he silently thanked God for the parents who raised him.

“So what are you going to do now?” he asked. When her eyes filled again, he regretted the question immediately. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“No, no, please, I’m the one who’s sorry, dragging you into this mess, crying all over you. Thank God it’s raining, so you can explain your wet shirt.” She sighed, turmoil clouding her eyes.

“Jacob Strong was your dad, whatever else you find out. You have memories of him, just like I have memories of my biological father. Believe me, you can thank God your memories are far better than mine.”

She studied him intently, and he knew he’d said way more than he meant to, but her pain seemed to bring words out of him he hadn’t planned.

Emily wanted to ask him so many questions but knew she was only looking for a distraction, and there was that dismay in his eyes again before he’d turned to start the pickup. He didn’t want to talk to her about his past—he didn’t want her to know things about his family. She understood that, but he’d just given her the realization that something far worse than a divorce had happened to his family.

“You’re right, he was my dad,” she said softly. “And I’ll never know the truth of my parents’ relationship. But I can know the truth of my paternity,” she added, her voice becoming flat and impassive.

“But you can’t solve it right now, not on an empty stomach. My grandmother asked you and me to come to brunch this morning, and since I forgot to tell you in advance, we’ll just pretend I did.”

She had to smile. “How did they know we’d be together this morning—I know you wouldn’t tell them about our doctor appointment. Imagine what they’d think about that information.”

He gave an exaggerated shudder. “Grandma knows I’m helping you with the renovations. Brooke has a big mouth. I got the invitation when I stopped in yesterday to fix the light switch.”

“Did you find little scratches like someone had used a screwdriver to sabotage it? Your grandma might be pretty devious.”

They glanced at each other and smiled, even as Nate drove out of the parking lot.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said, “but I talked to my dad about your mom. He confirmed that they were just friends, by the way.”

“I can’t believe you actually asked him.” She could only imagine the awkwardness of that scene.

“I didn’t ask him—he volunteered the information. And he won’t tell anyone.”

“I know that.” She should be angry that Nate hadn’t asked her permission first, but she wasn’t. Frankly, it freed her up to talk to Doug Thalberg herself eventually. Sighing, she said, “I guess I’ll have to figure out what to do next about my real dad. I’ll go through my mom’s things again.”

“And maybe you can go back to Cathy Fletcher and see if she can give you the names of some boys they hung out with.”

“She said they didn’t date much.”

“But you know better now.” He hesitated. “And I don’t like hearing you say your ‘real dad.’ You know Jacob Strong was your real dad, too.”

She stared at him in surprise, feeling her eyes sting and her throat close up. Hoarsely, she said, “Cowboy, you better stop being so nice to me, or I’ll start thinking all you ranchers have soft underbellies.”

He rolled his eyes, but she thought his face might actually be getting red. Doug Thalberg had rescued a woman and her son and helped mold Nate out of his love.

Sheesh, she was going to make herself cry again.

The sun had come out by the time they reached the Widows’ Boardinghouse, letting them eat at a picnic table on the back porch. She spent a pleasant hour telling the ladies all about what had been going on, from her renovations, to the lovely curtains, to her new job at Monica’s Flowers and Gifts. All uncomplicated topics.

“Has anyone shown interest in buying your place?” Mrs. Thalberg asked.

To Emily’s surprise, Nate clamped a hand on her knee. She glanced at him, trying not to laugh. Guess he didn’t want her mentioning Leather and Lace. “The real estate agent has contacted me, but he won’t know anything until I’m ready to show the place.”

So Nate thought he could control the conversation, did he?

She looked at his grandma with wide-eyed interest. “Mrs. Thalberg, I finally met your son yesterday. Such a nice man.”

Mrs. Thalberg grinned. “You’re a sweet girl to say so.”

“Nate’s pretty quiet about his family although I do talk to Brooke, as well. I haven’t met his brother yet.”

“That’s a surprise,” the old woman said, narrowing her eyes at Nate, who dug into his pecan pie without looking up. “They’ve always been close, of course, working side by side twelve hours a day. Josh is six years younger, and he used to follow Nate everywhere.”

Nate winced as he washed down his pie with a sip of lemonade.

“Josh wanted to be just like his brother,” Mrs. Thalberg continued. “Once he tried to ride Nate’s horse and got himself thrown. Broken arm, too, but not the first broken bone he’d have, working on the ranch.”

“If I recollect,” Nate drawled, “I was the one who got in trouble for his broken arm, which wasn’t fair, considering I was nowhere near the barn when it happened.”

“That’s how it is with family,” Mrs. Palmer said brightly. “We’re responsible for each other.”

“I never had any brothers or sisters,” Emily said, feeling wistful.

And then for the first time it occurred to her that she actually might. Nate was watching her as if he knew what she was thinking. She wasn’t ready to go public with what she knew, because that was what would happen if she told the widows. They’d make lists and go interview every man of the right age, a Valentine spectacle.

Because they cared, she reminded herself in wonder.

“You should have seen Josh’s reaction when Nate went off to college, and he couldn’t go,” Mrs. Thalberg said, shaking her head. “He was twelve, and a handful, as boys are at that age.”

“They don’t grow out of that,” Emily said dryly.

The widows twittered with laughter, and Nate rolled his eyes.

“It’s hard to be the only man at a hen fest,” was his response. “Grandma, isn’t there something that needs fixing?”

“Don’t you want to hear how Josh moped for days after you left?” Mrs. Thalberg demanded. “He even ran away, saying he was going to Colorado State with you.”

He went still. “I didn’t know that.”

Mrs. Thalberg patted his hand. “Your mom probably didn’t want to worry you. We found him that night, camping on his way to Ft. Collins, him and his dog and his horse.”

Nate smiled faintly. “That was a good dog.”

“Enough reminiscin’,” Mrs. Palmer said. “Emily, now that you’re workin’ at Monica’s—”

“I haven’t started yet.”

“Well, when you do, give me a call, and I’ll come in and talk about a flower order for the preservation committee. We like to congratulate each business when they open or finish renovations after usin’ the grant money.”

“That’s really nice of you. I’ll call.”

“She makes it sound so subtle and tasteful,” Nate said. “It wasn’t always flowers they offered for grand openings.”

Mrs. Thalberg laughed out loud.

“Nathaniel Thalberg,” Mrs. Palmer said with mock indignation. “Your teasin’ is uncalled for.”

“Oh, come on, don’t you remember when the toy store opened? You had free giveaways for the kids—”

“To encourage the parents to attend and become payin’ customers!” Mrs. Palmer interrupted.

“But you gave away cap guns! Nobody even uses them anymore. I don’t know how you found them.”

Mrs. Ludlow sniffed. “We were harkening back to childhood memories.”

Nate leaned toward her. “It deteriorated into a disaster when all the kids were firing cap guns in the store, and the too-sensitive smoke detectors went off, sending everyone running out onto Main Street.”

“And the sprinklers?” Emily squeaked.

“Not enough smoke to set them off. The smoke detectors had to be recalibrated.”

“We were lucky,” Mrs. Thalberg said, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “The bill for water damage could have put the committee out of business.”

Emily found her gaze trapped in Nate’s as they at first shared their amusement, until it changed into something intimate. By the time they were in the pickup, intimate had turned into smoldering. She enjoyed his company too much, his sense of humor, his thoughtfulness to his grandmother. He was luring her in without trying to. It was so seductive to feel desirable, to know that she could affect him as much as he affected her. He didn’t look at her as he drove, but his eyes were narrowed and his jaw clenched. It was as if he realized that every time they were alone, the passion between them burned just a little brighter, a little hotter.

In the shade of the alley behind her building, he stopped so suddenly, it sent her purse tumbling to the floor. Swearing, he reached for it at the same time she did, and they bumped heads. As they both turned to apologize, their gazes met and held, and suddenly, she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. Before she knew it, their mouths came together in a fierce, hot kiss that burned away her fake shell of friendly indifference, turning her into a woman greedy for passion. His hand cupped her head and she arched even farther toward him, both restrained by their seat belts.

Gasping, she pushed away and gaped at him, her mouth damp, her heart thundering in her chest. “My God,” she whispered.

“I didn’t mean—”

“I shouldn’t have—”

He held up both hands. “Stop. I don’t want to fight this anymore.”

“Fight . . . what?” she whispered, still trembling and aching with need. She needed to hear him say the words. He tasted so good, and she wanted more, like he was chocolate candy she shouldn’t have but craved.

“You and I get along,” he said at last.

She choked on a laugh. “Sexy. Don’t make me swoon too much, cowboy.”

He groaned and tipped his head back. “We’re hanging out a lot. It’d be stupid not to enjoy it. We said no dating, but I think if we keep the ground rules clear, we could enjoy ourselves together in something that’s not work or duty or with friends.” He turned off the ignition, unbuckled his seat belt, and faced her. “There’s a lot of other stuff between ‘just friends’ and a committed relationship.”

“Go ahead and explain it to me.” She was staring at his mouth. “But be quick.”

He closed his eyes as if for control, and she felt wickedly content that she affected him as much as he did her.

“We could just date casually,” he said in a husky voice.

She knew he was trying to seem very casual, but after that kiss, it was too late. His gaze was openly traveling down her body, and she was glad she wasn’t wearing the raincoat. She unbuckled her seat belt, and he watched her like she was doing a striptease.

Her brain was having a heated debate, ping-ponging between letting her know this might be a mistake and slyly whispering that she could control something so harmless as dating.

She couldn’t lie to herself—she liked his kisses, liked the way he was looking at her, as if he’d been resisting showing his interest and now couldn’t get enough of the sight of her. It made her feel like a desirable woman, something the last few years of her marriage had taken away—she’d thought for good.

His eyes narrowed when she didn’t say anything. “Well, Em? Tell me what you think.”

“I—” She glanced away, suddenly realizing that her doubts and fears were bubbling to the surface. “I’m not sure I know anything about dating, Nate. And that’s the truth. As for that first night when we kissed, alcohol had a lot to do with it.”

He made a dismissive sound. “I don’t believe that for a minute. Or is that just what you’ve been telling yourself?”

“Maybe.” She looked down, picking at a thread in her sundress. “You have to understand. I had crushes on boys in high school, and the occasional date, but when I met Greg in college, I fell hard. We both knew we saw marriage in our future.”

He reached for her hand, and she let him, enjoying too much the way he gently rubbed her fingers. His own were rough with calluses, large and very male.

“Then think of this as an experiment,” he urged, obviously trying to win her with his dimpled smile.

She softly laughed. “An experiment? But aren’t you the master at dating? Won’t it be beneath you to try to teach a neophyte like me?”

He began to tug on her hand. She had no choice but to come up on her knees, even as he leaned back against the driver’s door. He put up the armrest so that nothing separated them on the bench seat. He gave another tug until she was forced to put her other hand on his chest to brace herself or fall into his lap.

“I don’t think I’ll be bored,” he said huskily, threading his hand into her hair and cupping her neck to draw her closer. “Let’s find out. Kiss me, Em.”

He spoke those words so close to her that she felt his breath on her mouth. Those green eyes held her, challenged her, intrigued her. She leaned in for the kiss, and admitted to herself that he’d been right—alcohol had had nothing to do with the attraction that simmered between them.

She kept the kiss light, playfully teasing his lips with her own, learning the soft touch of him, exploring the way each kiss heightened her rising need. She hadn’t felt this way about a man in so long, eager and desperate, afraid and fearless all at the same time.

She lifted her head and stared at him, still only touching with her hands and nothing else. “Were you bored?” she whispered.

He groaned and closed his eyes as he leaned his head back against the window. “If you get a little closer, you’ll see how not bored I am.”

Then he lifted his head and kissed her, not giving her a chance to change her mind. He held her head to his, deepening the kiss, his mouth hot and open on hers. When his tongue teased hers, she groaned, and could have easily tumbled into his lap for more.

She lifted her head again, gasping. “Okay, okay . . . you’ve made your point.”

“I don’t think so.”

He tried to pull her against him. This time she pushed away, and he let her go.

“Hey, I’m a neophyte, remember?” she said, feeling shaky and still full of yearning. “I think this is going too fast for me. We haven’t even been on a date—and don’t tell me brunch with your grandmother counts.”

He winced. “No, that was certainly no date.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it. A girl expects a lot when a cowboy asks her out.”

His slow smile almost made her change her mind about kissing him some more.

“A lot? Should I feel threatened by your expectations?” he asked.

“Probably not. The way every woman smiles at you, it seems you’ve met a few dating expectations,” she said dryly, sinking back to her own side of the pickup.

He linked hands with her again, his smile banked into earnestness. “I’m glad you’re giving this a try, Em. There’s more to life than figuring out your past or your future. You can live in the now, just like I try to do.”

“The now, huh?” She grinned, but inside she couldn’t help her curiosity. Was he hiding from something in his past, or didn’t he want to confront the future? Or a little of both? She was intrigued enough to want to find out.

He nodded. “The now. No expectations but enjoyment.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as bossy as you, Nate Thalberg.”

“Someone had to take charge and speak the truth about what was happening between us. I couldn’t have taken another moment working side by side on renovations.”

“So you’re saying that now you’ll feel free to seduce me instead of teach me to drywall?”

“Heck, no. I’m just saying that now I can be patient, knowing that I’ll have my shot.”

He raised her hand and placed a soft kiss on her palm that sent shivers up her arm.

“We can have fun together. You won’t regret it, Em.”

She looked into his eyes, and although she was flattered and excited, she also felt a trace of fear. He was so . . . overpowering. Would she be able to date without entangling her emotions? Other people did. And she had strong motivation to keep things casual—college in the fall.

“Let me show you what we do for fun in these mountains,” he said. “It’s spring, the runoff is fast into the river valleys, the perfect time for whitewater rafting.”

She widened her eyes. “Are you kidding? That sounds scary, not fun. The movie theater is showing a forties romantic suspense film festival. It would give us so much to talk about.”

“Since when have we lacked for conversation?”

She laughed and batted her eyelashes at him.

“Then we compromise,” he continued. “Let’s do something outdoors as a first step. Let me take you hiking. The view from these mountains has to be seen.”

“It’s a deal. But you have to teach me to drywall first.”

“Blackmail. You play dirty. I like it.” He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss. “Now I have to get back to the ranch. We’ll talk.”

She felt like one big cliché, floating as she went inside her building and changed into old clothes. She glanced at the box of her mother’s things, then deliberately turned away from it.

The second-guessing about Nate began as she pried baseboard and trim. She was taking a chance, knowing it might hurt her in the end.

But if this was a mistake, she had damned well better enjoy it along the way.