A Town Called Valentine

chapter Fifteen



Emily spent the next two days in a fog of romance. Gorgeous cowboy Nate was desperate to date her. It made her want to hug herself and dance around her apartment. He was the perfect antidote to her low self-esteem after the way Greg had discarded her when she couldn’t give him a biological child. She was a woman in charge of her life, a woman who felt confident enough to date but didn’t need a man to be content.

By day, she plodded along ripping down damaged drywall or worked in the flower shop; in the evening, she baked for Monica, chocolate mousse cake one day, a peach cobbler the next. More furniture kept appearing—a plant in a lovely ceramic container from Monica in honor of her first day, the perfect decorative touch on the coffee table beneath her front window; a lamp to read by; then, to her surprise, a love seat that was well used but in good condition. She didn’t feel so . . . temporary anymore. Her brief sojourn in Valentine Valley was becoming part of her journey, not an ordeal she had to get through.

On the day of her afternoon hike with Nate, she attended the Music to Eat By program at the community center with Brooke and Monica. It was an old, converted, brick factory building, with conference rooms as well as a large banquet hall that could be used for wedding receptions. On the huge deck, overflowing with potted plants and vines laced through trellises, a bluegrass band played their guitars and harmonized beautifully for the crowd of twenty to thirty who’d gathered to eat lunch purchased from the Silver Creek Café. All the local restaurants took turns being the vendors for the Music to Eat By crowds. While eating her Chicken Caesar wrap, Emily followed the other two into the banquet hall, browsing the display booths set up to promote Valentine tourism: cooking-for-two school, a string quartet available to hire along with other musical groups, and romantic picnic baskets made to order.

“This is so cool!” Emily said. “What a great way to promote businesses that don’t have a storefront. It’s such a generous way to help other people.”

“They promote people like me, too,” Monica said, gesturing to the potted flowers and plants as they walked back onto the deck.

“You do such beautiful work,” Emily gushed.

Brooke rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, let’s not get started.”

They took a seat at a picnic table vacated by a young family.

“Then we can talk about Emily’s creative talents,” Monica said, giving Brooke a fake frown. “Already, she’s good at putting an arrangement together, choosing interesting combinations of color and flowers. She’s the best hire I’ve made in a long time.”

“I’m the only hire you’ve made in at least two years,” Emily said, laughing. She glanced around at all the people talking softly or swaying to the music. “Monica, I’m surprised you didn’t ask your sister to join us.”

“Yeah, you haven’t mentioned her much,” Brooke added, watching her friend closely.

Monica shrugged, her smile fading. “She’s doing some writing for an assignment while she’s here. It’s hard for her to get away from work completely. It’s just such a challenging career,” she added brightly.

Brooke scowled. “You imitate your sister well, but maybe you’re taking what she says too seriously. Perhaps it’s not about you but about her own excitement for her job.”

“I can’t help taking it personally,” Monica said glumly, setting down her quesadilla wrap half-eaten. “I can no longer tell what she’s even thinking when she says some of this stuff. Emily, be glad you don’t have a sister.”

Emily blurted, “I don’t know—maybe I do.”

Brooke cocked her head. “What does that mean?”

Though she hadn’t intended to, Emily told her friends all about the revelation of her biological father and how Nate had been helping her.

“Never knew my brother was so sensitive,” Brooke said dryly, even as she studied Emily. “So . . . how are you taking this? It must be hard.”

“It is,” Emily said, her voice subdued. “I loved my father though I only knew him a few years. To think my mother lied to me all this time, and . . . and . . . I can’t even yell at her about it, or demand answers. I’m all on my own.”

“You know we’ll help any way we can,” Monica said. “And trust me, sisters aren’t all bad. I couldn’t have imagined growing up without Missy. We were the best of friends, and she made every step of high school bearable.”

“And you could have a sister or brother right here in town,” Brooke said, looking around the crowded deck.

“It’s . . . unnerving,” Emily admitted. “I really debated just forgetting the whole thing, but I can’t seem to manage it. Nate has had some good ideas, so we’ll probably discuss it today.”

“Today?” Brooke said, perking up. “He’s working with you?”

“Actually, it’s a date,” Emily said.

“Oooh.” Monica gave her arm a little shove. “No more ‘we’re just friends’?”

“We’re still friends,” Emily insisted. “But now we’re dating.” She drew air quotes around “dating.”

Brooke snorted her laugh. “Let me guess—my brother suggested that.”

“It was a mutual decision. Neither one of us wants to get too involved.”

“But he’s helping you find your father,” Brooke said dubiously. “Seems pretty involved to me.”

“That’s the friendship part. The dating part is . . . I don’t know. Today’s our first date. He wanted to go rafting, and I refused.”

“Oh, you don’t know what you’re missing,” Monica said, shaking her head. “Springtime down our rivers is so exciting.”

“Maybe, but I’ll leave rafting to you athletic mountain types. I suggested the movie festival.”

Another snort from Brooke.

Emily laughed. “And that was pretty much his response. We’re going hiking. Good thing I’ve been running and renovating, so maybe he won’t have to wait for me too much on the trail.” She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Apologetically, she said, “Let me get this text. Nate said he’d let me know what time he’ll be free.”

“We moved irrigation dams this morning,” Brooke said. “The next hayfields have been flooded. He should be available.”

Emily read the text and responded before looking up. “Nate’s already in town. I told him we were almost done eating.”

Five minutes later, Nate came up the stairs to the deck, and Emily’s stomach did a little flip-flop that was part nerves, part anticipation. They were changing their relationship, and that could be bad or good. She chose to see it as good—something fun to fill her days until it was time to head back to school.

It took another few minutes for Nate to work his way through the crowd, what with everyone needing to talk to him about something or other. Scout got several rubdowns, and he accepted them as his due.

“Your brother is a popular guy,” Emily told Brooke.

“He knows everybody,” Brooke answered, a hint of pride in her voice.

Nate sat down and looked around at the three women, a grin on his face. “I’m the luckiest guy here.”

His sister groaned, and Monica made a funny face.

“What a sweet compliment,” Emily said, smiling at him.

“That’s it, time to go,” Brooke said, getting to her feet and tossing the second half of her veggie wrap in front of her brother. “I can’t even finish this, you make me feel so sick.”

“Enjoy your afternoon.” Monica waved good-bye.

“What did I say?” Nate demanded in a baffled voice.

“Nothing. They know we’re spending the afternoon together, that’s all.”

He stared at Brooke’s sandwich. “And to make my sister lose her appetite—that’s saying something. Oh, well, shouldn’t let it go to waste.”

Emily laughed as he dug in.

He swallowed and winced. “No meat.”

“Nope.”

He shrugged. “It’s good anyway.”

They sat in companionable silence, finishing their wraps and listening to the music. Nate bought another one, and they split a piece of cheesecake full of caramel and chunks of chocolate. Another Sweetheart Inn dessert. Scout sat down in front of Emily and watched her plate with the same concentration he reserved for a stray calf.

Emily licked her fork and closed her eyes. “God, this is so good.”

“Decadent. And aren’t you amazed a cowboy like me knows those big words?”

They ended up driving a half hour down valley to Mushroom Rock, where the cliffs rose above their parked car. The path through red earth wound slowly up, back and forth through trees and rocks, before reaching the summit, where rocks jutted out like a finger into the sky. The entire valley spread out before them, and Emily swayed dizzily, staring at the snow-topped mountains across from them. She kept wanting to put Scout on a leash, but Nate had him well trained. A simple command called him back to his master’s side. But usually, Nate let him sniff every bush and leave his mark.

“Let’s go out onto Mushroom Rock,” Nate said, gesturing toward a narrow path that led out onto the promontory.

“Out there?” she squeaked, clutching his arm. “The view isn’t any different.”

“But then it feels like it’s all around you. Come on!”

He led the way, and she wished she could close her eyes as the sides of the cliff plummeted down either side of the path. But at last they found a rock to sit on, and her vertigo eased enough for her to enjoy herself again.

“Oh, Nate, this is just incredible,” she whispered. “We feel so . . . above the whole world.”

“We hiked a thousand feet higher than the valley, so we’re pretty high up.”

He opened his backpack and handed her a bottle of water, which she drank from greedily. He poured some into a little portable bowl for Scout. Next he opened a Ziploc bag.

“Trail mix,” she said. “Yum.”

“GORP.”

“Excuse me?”

“Good Old Raisins and Peanuts.”

She laughed. “And M&Ms, too.”

They ate and drank contentedly for a while, nodding at another hiker who passed them to go out onto the very tip. Emily shuddered and briefly closed her eyes.

Nate laughed at her. “So tomorrow I help you put up new drywall.”

“If you’re able. There’re certainly other things I can do if you’re . . . moving dams, or whatever Brooke said.”

“Hayfields have to be flooded to help the crop grow. Every morning and evening we move portable dams and flood a different section of each field. You know that hailstorm we had yesterday morning?”

She winced. “You were out in it?”

“You bet. Those things sting. I’ll be glad to get away and only do drywall.”

“Thanks, Nate.”

They ate more GORP, and Emily was so hungry from the hike, she thought she’d never get enough food again. She fed some nuts to Scout, who’d long ago mastered the look of quiet desperation. Then she told Nate she’d revealed the search for her dad to Brooke and Monica.

“I’ve been procrastinating,” she admitted. “I keep wondering if I’m passing my dad on the street. I never had my mom’s attention, and my husband, well, you can see what he thought of me. Part of me is worried that if my biological father rejects me, too, I don’t know if I can handle it. Maybe I’m just a coward.”

Nate put his hand on her knee. “No. If you were, you’d be huddled in an apartment in San Francisco, or maybe you’d still be married to that jerk.”

“No, he left me, not the other way around.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

She nodded but didn’t elaborate. She couldn’t share with anyone the terrible hurt Greg had inflicted on her.

“I don’t care about him,” Nate said. “You’re not a coward. You’re trying to find a new way to support yourself, and you eventually want to adopt. You can’t tell me that’s not a brave thing for a single woman to do. How can your biological father not be happy about the way you turned out?”

“Thanks,” she said, turning to smile at him.

They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, and then she leaned in to kiss him, letting her hand cup the roughness of his cheek. Suddenly hungry for more, she opened her mouth to him and let every other awareness fade away.

Until they heard the hiker going by them back up the trail.

She broke away and felt her face get hot. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m sure he’s jealous as hell of me.”

Laughing, she leaned her head against his shoulder. “This has been a great day. You were right—it’s done me good to get away from work.”

“Then we need to plan to get you out again. The mountain biking is fantastic around here. I usually bike these trails we just hiked.”

She gaped at him. “These dangerous, narrow trails? I feel queasy just imagining doing them at high speed.”

He grinned, flashing his dimples. “It’s fun.”

“No, thank you. I have a better idea. I haven’t seen Aspen yet.”

“Then it’s a date. Everyone should see Aspen.”

“Well, that was easy. There must be some daredevil part of the town you’re hiding from me.”

“Nope. I have time to make you try something riskier eventually. And I will.”

He looked deeply into her eyes, and she thought of all the risky, athletic things she could do with him—in bed. But she was getting ahead of herself, she thought, eating another handful of GORP. Nate chuckled softly, as if he knew what she was thinking.

Admitting to Nate that she felt like a coward where her biological father was concerned spurred Emily to action. The next day, she stopped by St. John’s to see Cathy Fletcher, her mother’s high-school friend. Once again, she didn’t reveal her mother’s pregnancy, but with careful questioning, she got Cathy to reveal the names of two boys who occasionally hung out at the Riley family store when Delilah worked after school.

They were no longer boys, of course. Steve Keppel was now the building and grounds supervisor at the Royal Theater, according to Cathy.

She’d already met the other man—Hal Abrams, the owner of the hardware store. She didn’t want to make Cathy suspicious, so she didn’t ask any detailed questions, but her mind was buzzing. She tried to remember everything about Hal, but he’d been quiet compared to the coffee-drinking ranchers. He had sandy-colored hair, and hers was strawberry blond. That wasn’t too different.

Cathy didn’t think Delilah had actually dated either of the boys, but obviously she’d been with someone. Unless her mom had been forced—no, Emily wasn’t going there. Her mom freely got involved with men throughout her life, and she’d started in Valentine Valley. She’d never had any hang-ups where men were concerned. There wasn’t one particular type, either. She’d dated construction workers and lawyers, even a professional baseball player once. Men had been captivated by her easy charm and her pointed interest in them.

There was one other person Emily could turn to with her questions before approaching her possible dads directly—Doug Thalberg. He’d known her mother well enough to lend her money. Surely he might be able to hazard a guess about the identity of her father, or perhaps confirm Cathy’s suggestions.

And Monica offered her the perfect opportunity the following day when Emily showed up for work.

As Emily set out her carrot cake, Monica breezed in from the workroom and groaned. “You are going to make me fat.”

“But think how happy you’re making your customers.”

“I don’t know. This used to be an occasional thing for me, but with you here, I’m starting to hear from people how much they look forward to sampling. Are they even buying when they come in, or are they just getting fat themselves?”

Emily laughed. “No, they’re honestly buying. I sold that lovely ceramic vase Mrs. Ludlow painted.”

“Oh, good, because that’s been here a while, and I was starting to feel guilty whenever Mrs. Ludlow asked about it. She’ll get a nice check when I do the monthly consignment payout.” She glanced at the carrot cake again. “You know, Missy was down here late last night. She’d left the apartment to make a call on that smart phone that never leaves her hand. When I came down to work on the Thalberg arrangements, I caught her eating several of yesterday’s mini cupcakes. You’d have thought she was committing a crime. God forbid a sister have hips. We’re not alike in that department.”

Emily smiled, but it faded as she studied Monica. “Are things any better between you?”

Monica shrugged. “Mom keeps us busy when we’re together, visiting family, shopping in Aspen. You’ve been a big help letting me get away. I’m feeling guilty that you’re not able to work on your renovations as much.”

“Don’t be. Now that the drywall is up, and that cracked wall mirror gone, I’ve been able to start the prep work before painting.” She hesitated. “But I didn’t mean to sidetrack from you and Melissa.”

“There’s no me and Melissa anymore, so let’s not discuss it. We’re two people with different interests, and living with her is helping me come to terms with that.”

That didn’t sound like they’d made any progress at all, but Emily knew it was time to drop the subject.

Monica briefly consulted the large calendar on the counter. “You up for doing a delivery for me this morning?”

“Of course!” Emily had already driven Monica’s minivan adorned with the flower-shop logo.

“Several arrangements have to go to the Silver Creek Ranch. I think Mrs. Thalberg’s sister is coming to visit, and she wants fresh flowers to liven the place up.” Monica eyed her. “I assume you don’t mind visiting Nate’s family? His dad’s waiting for the delivery.”

Emily grinned. “It’s such a hardship, but I’ll bear it.”

“I made up the arrangements last night, so they’re waiting in the coolers out back. Let’s go load them in the van.”

Soon Emily was on her way to the ranch. It was the first really warm day of late spring, and she’d worn a sleeveless flowered dress and sandals for work, so she felt presentable for the Thalbergs. Maybe she’d get to meet Nate’s mother. She didn’t call Nate and tell him she was coming out—it was for work, after all. And if she was honest with herself, she didn’t want to hear if he sounded upset about it. They were getting along so well, it would hurt her if he still didn’t want her near his family.

So much for keeping things casual when she already knew he had the power to hurt her. Well, she’d always felt things too deeply; she would have to get over it. She didn’t need a man’s approval anymore.

After crossing the First Street bridge, she glanced down the road toward the boardinghouse, realizing how much she missed the chatter of the widows every morning. She would have to invite them to dinner, now that she had enough places for everyone to sit!

She was sort of surprised at herself, wanting to entertain in an apartment that was so tiny. But it was . . . hers, and she wanted to invite people in and show them what they meant to her.

She followed the winding dirt road to the ranch house, a two-story building made of rough logs, with porches wrapping around both levels. The roof was bright red, matching several of the barns. It was well cared for, and lots of spring flowers grew in the landscaped beds surrounding the house. Several barns rose behind in the distance, as well as other small buildings.

She backed the van up near the front porch, but before she could even bound up the steps, Doug Thalberg was coming through the front door.

“Emily, it was so kind of you to bring the flowers for my wife.”

“It was no problem, Mr. Thalberg. And it’s my job now.” She smiled at him and was relieved when he smiled back. “Is your wife at home?”

“Nope, but she told me where she wants the flowers.”

Though she was disappointed, Emily didn’t show it, helping Mr. Thalberg to bring the flowers inside. Two arrangements were in vases, and another was a big spray that he put in the hearth of the stone fireplace that dominated the log-walled room.

“This is beautiful,” Emily said, looking around.

The upholstered dark furniture was lightened by throw pillows in greens and reds. Huge bookshelves were built into the wall on either side of the fireplace. The wood floors had several small rugs in various patterns of green.

“We’ve remodeled over the last hundred years, of course, but this room was part of the original homestead.”

“How incredible that you have such family history,” she said wistfully.

“You do, too, Emily. You just don’t know it yet.”

She hesitated. “Nate mentioned that he told you about my predicament. Would you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“Not at all. Let me get some lemonade, and I’ll meet you on the front porch. It’s too beautiful to waste a spring day inside.”

She stepped back outside and sank onto a comfortable wooden rocker with a cushion on the seat. She rocked gently, staring across the fields with hay rippling in the breeze, and toward the looming mountains. The peace of such a view could quiet the troubles of any soul.

He returned with a tray containing a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses. After pouring them each a drink, he sat down beside her, and neither of them said a thing for a few minutes.

“Mr. Thalberg, your land is simply stunning.”

He gave her a small smile. “God’s land, you mean. You can’t help but believe in Him when you live in the Rockies.”

She found herself glancing at the one barn she could see. “Is it always this quiet?”

He grinned at her from beneath the brim of his hat. “No, ma’am. But my kids are up on our grazin’ allotment in the mountains, repairin’ fence. It’s a job that never ends. The elk migratin’ through do some of the damage, along with roamin’ cattle. There’s age and weather conditions as well.”

“I can only imagine what the snow must be like up there in the dead of winter.” She shuddered.

“Are you a skier?” he asked.

“Not regularly, but I’ve done it a few times.”

“You’ll have to return and give our mountains a try. Nate’s quite the expert on skis or snowboard.”

“I’m not surprised. He seems an expert at a lot of things. He gave me a crash course in drywall. And the work he did at the boardinghouse was just amazing.”

“You should see his cabin.”

Not just yet, she thought. “Your mom did some bragging about it. She’s very proud of all her grandchildren.”

They sat quietly for several minutes, as the breeze blew in the scent of growing hay.

“Those questions I mentioned,” she began at last.

He nodded politely.

“I talked to Cathy Fletcher about my mom having a boyfriend, but she said Delilah didn’t date much. Well, obviously there had to be someone,” she said dryly, “so I wondered if there were any boys who hung at the store, who might not have been officially ‘dating’ my mother. She thought of Hal Abrams and Steve Keppel. Do those names spark any memories?”

Mr. Thalberg frowned as he rocked. “They both still live in town, of course.”

“I know, but I hate to just approach two strangers and say, ‘Are you my father?’ Knowing my mother, she didn’t tell him she was pregnant. It’ll be a terrible shock.”

“Well, not terrible,” he said, giving her a faint smile. “When a man does the deed, he knows there’s a chance, even with all the precautions in the world.”

“Did my mother . . . talk about those men to you?”

“Sorry, no, but I do remember them hangin’ out on Main Street a lot their senior year. The store was pretty popular with all the kids, includin’ me. There’s even another name you might add to your list. Joe Sweet.”

She frowned. “I’ve heard that name before.”

“His family owns the Sweetheart Inn and Ranch. They have their fingers in a lot of the businesses in town.”

“You mean through the preservation fund?”

Mr. Thalberg chuckled. “Nope, that’s for people who want to donate anonymously. They’ve never made any secret of the fact they’re rich enough to invest when they want.”

“Is that a bad thing?” she asked doubtfully.

“Not at all. I’m just tellin’ you how it is. Joe spent some time chasing after Dot. I didn’t think she ever chose one of those boys, but obviously she did.”

“So you can’t help me narrow the list down from those three men?”

“Sorry, no. Dot never spoke of any of them to me.”

Emily nodded her disappointment and took another sip of her lemonade, reminding herself that at least she had another name to research. She’d talk to Nate for more personal details about each of the men.

She heard a crackling sound, then, “Dad?”

Mr. Thalberg unclipped a radio from his belt and spoke into it. “Yeah, Nate?”

“We’ve got a problem up here and we could use your help. Several dozen cows and calves escaped through a hole in the fence before we could repair it. We’re searching now, but we’re on horseback. You want to bring an ATV up here and give us a hand?”

“On my way.”

“We’re at the Pinelands.”

When he put the radio away, Emily smiled ruefully. “Guess I’ll be going.”

He gave her a grin. “Ever ridden an ATV?”

Her eyes widened. “No. But I’m expected back at the flower shop.”

“We’ll call Monica, but she won’t mind. This’ll be your first ATV lesson. Come on.”