Chapter Twenty-Five
“H e what?”
Emily tapped a finger on her first mug of coffee of the new day. She looked across the small table near the front window of Java Time at Nic Baylor.
“You heard me. He thought I was pitying him.”
Nic was silent for a moment. Emily knew her old friend always thought carefully before she spoke. Or she had until she’d run afoul of one Jackson Thorpe. Then, she’d once admitted sheepishly, she’d apparently lost all governors on her words.
Emily was thankful now for the urge she’d given in to, to come here for a chilled macchiato rather than her usual hot coffee at home, especially given it was already eighty-five degrees at nine in the morning.
She’d left Lobo at home on this, her second day off in a row after the chaos of rodeo week.
He hadn’t protested, and she’d left him lounging in the spot he’d chosen on her couch, in the direct path of the flow from the air conditioning.
He’d had enough of having to be out walking the sidewalks in this heat all week, and he and his paws deserved a break.
She, on the other hand, apparently had needed to pour out her silly story to someone. And so she had given her old friend a blow-by-blow of the encounter yesterday. It made sense, she told herself. It had, after all, happened on Nic’s ranch, so why not her?
It had nothing to do with the fact that she was engaged to Tucker’s best friend.
“You talked for quite a while,” Nic said. “I noticed, even while I was boggled by what your brilliant canine did with Splatter.”
Emily seized on the diversion. “He is brilliant, isn’t he? I talked to Chance last night, to ask him if Lobo had any experience with horses, and he said only what he’d had there with them. With no sign he shared any skills with Logan.”
“Amazing. We may need you on call for Splatter, if we’re going to get him calmed down enough for Jeremy one day. In fact, you should stop by the ranch this afternoon, if you’ve got the time.”
“I’m sure Lobo would love it.”
“And you?”
Emily blinked. “What?”
“You going to mind trekking out to our place? And…Tucker’s place?”
And there they were, back at it. So much for a diversion.
“I’ll be fine,” she said.
“So where,” Nic asked, “did he get the idea you pitied him?”
She sighed. She had brought it up, after all. “I don’t know. All I said was I was glad he hadn’t been hurt.”
“Nothing before that?”
Emily’s brow furrowed as she worked back through what she’d said yesterday there in the corral, trying to find anything that might have set him off.
“I did say, earlier, when we were talking about how he went back to the hospital that put him back together, how hard that must have been for him. That it made me feel horrible, just thinking about it.”
“Ahh.” Nic said it as if that was the answer.
“But how could he take that as me pitying him?”
“Maybe he’s had a little too much experience with just that,” Nic said.
“Jackson told me that at first they didn’t want to hire him for the show because of it.
And one of the producers—Felix Swiff, a jerk if ever there was one—said they couldn’t hire such a pitiful wreck.
” She grimaced. “He didn’t realize Tucker was right there and heard it.
Or more likely, from what Jackson’s said about the guy, he knew and didn’t care. ”
“But that’s not how I feel, or what I said!”
Nic gave her an understanding smile. “I know. You never would. But he doesn’t know that. Yet.”
“Yet?”
“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Nic said, sounding as if she was being unusually careful, “but I got the definite feeling there was a lot more between you two than empathy and sympathy on your part.”
“I feel both those things,” she admitted, “but I…he…?there’s…?some-thing…”
Nic smiled widely, but in the manner of a loving friend. “And there we have it, the most articulate person I know, other than maybe Lily Highwater, at a total loss for words because of a pair of big blue eyes.”
“It’s not his—” she threw up her fingers to do air quotes “—big blue eyes.” Nic laughed, and Emily felt herself blush. Again. “I’m not saying they’re not big and Lord are they blue, but…”
“Well, there are plenty of other things to admire. That jawline, those shoulders, not to mention that cute, tight backside of his.” Emily’s cheeks got hotter as she reacted to the images Nic was putting in her mind.
“Emmie,” Nic said now, using the long-ago nickname, “you don’t know how glad I am to see this.
Andrew was a long time ago and it’s past time you kicked him into history where he belongs, the jerk.
And I can’t think of a better man to do it with than Tucker Culhane. ”
“But I don’t know if he’d even…be interested.”
Nic laughed again, and this time Emily frowned at her. “Honey, even Jeremy can see it.”
Emily blinked. “What?”
“He asked Jackson last night if you were his uncle T’s girlfriend now.” Emily’s eyes widened, but Nic went on before she could respond. “Oh, and he also said you already know how good a guy Tucker is because of how Lobo liked him right away. I think he’s got a point.”
Lobo had liked him. Enough to decide he needed to intervene with that horse without any command or order.
But then, so had she. She’d gone over that fence without a second thought, even knowing her experience with horses was limited to some riding lessons as a kid—from Nic’s mother—and admiring them from the other side of the fence.
But when she’d seen him go down after that hit from the big horse, the memories of that day in the rodeo arena when an even heavier bull had crushed him against the wall had exploded in her mind.
And even when he’d assured her he was fine, she hadn’t quite believed it.
And you hung onto him like a limpet.
But he hadn’t complained. Nor had he tried to pull away. He’d simply let her hold onto him as if he realized she needed to. That she needed to know he was all right.
She couldn’t assume it was because he’d liked it, having her hold onto him like that. But the way he’d looked at her, before he’d somehow interpreted her gratitude that he hadn’t been hurt into pity, had certainly made her feel that way. That he liked her…touching him.
But the way he’d turned his back on her and walked away after she’d told him how she did feel toward him certainly negated that idea.
…what I feel is admiration, and…and other things.
She groaned inwardly.
“You know,” Nic said in that casual tone that warned Emily her words were going to be anything but, “they were about to promote Tucker to stunt coordinator. He was really good at figuring them out, how to pull them off, and how to make them look as dramatic as possible. And it would have given him a break, physically. When Jackson walked away, that opportunity vanished. But Tucker never held it against him. Because he knew Jackson was doing what he had to, to save Jeremy.”
Emily stared at her. She hadn’t known that. And now that she did, it only made her ache inside a little more. Because it was more proof that the man was who she thought he was. A good, kind, caring and loyal man. Words Andrew had only had a passing acquaintance with.
“I don’t doubt what kind of man he is, Nic. But I also know now, thanks to Lily, what happened to his father.”
“So you think he wouldn’t want to get involved with a cop?”
“Exactly.”
Nic tapped a finger for a moment, clearly pondering that thought. Finally, with a slight tone of regret, she said, “I can’t say it’s not true. I mean, I worry about your work, so I know how it feels.”
Emily blinked. “You worry about me being a cop?”
“Of course I do,” Nic said, giving her that “wake up and smell the coffee” look she knew too well. “We all do. Fortunately, you’re a Last Stand cop, and that makes all the difference.”
Emily smiled at that. “You mean the chief does.”
“That, too,” Nic agreed with a grin. “Nobody who has a clue is going to mess with one of Shane Highwater’s people.”
“And he’d be the first one to tell us not to count on that.”
Nic nodded. “He’s a good man and a great chief.”
It was at that moment her phone chimed a text. She looked at the screen, then back at Nic. “Speak of the devil,” she said with a laugh. “His ears must have been burning.”
“I thought it was your day off?”
“It is. He’s just making sure I’ll be there for the briefing in the morning.” Her brow furrowed. “Although I don’t know why he’d think I wouldn’t be.”
“Maybe not everybody is as utterly reliable as you,” Nic teased.
Emily sighed. “That’s me, married to the job.”
The moment the words were out she wished she hadn’t said them.
She got up before Nic had a chance to go back to their earlier conversation.
She didn’t want to talk any more about Tucker Culhane.
She promised Nic she’d be at the saloon next Friday night for the locals’ gathering, and made a hasty exit.
But as she walked back to her car, her old friend’s words rang in her mind.
…I can’t think of a better man to do it with than Tucker Culhane.
Do it with. She so did not want to open the door to all the possible meanings of that particular phrase.
But no sooner did she shove that out of her head than what Nic had told her Jeremy said rushed in.
…you already know how good a guy Tucker is because of how Lobo liked him right away.
The kid had, she had to admit, a point. The once traumatized dog had very good instincts about people.
Chance had told her that, although he didn’t know all of what the dog had been through when he’d been serving overseas.
But Lobo had proven it on duty here several times already, so why not off duty, too?
And she certainly couldn’t deny she reacted to him. Strongly. Especially for someone who gave little time to such things.
That’s me, married to the job.
Her own words came back to slap her this time. Yes, she loved her work, and knew how lucky she was to have landed at Last Stand PD. But was that really all she wanted out of life?
All she knew for sure was that Tucker was the first man to have her questioning all this in…years. And the more she wrestled with it, the more the certainty grew that this was not something she should turn her back on.
No, she didn’t want to walk away from this spark that struck with this man. She wanted to do something about it.
Maybe even see if it could start a fire.