Chapter Eleven – Emeline
Emeline
I sat back in my chair, pulled out a Swedish Fish, and popped it into my mouth. My mind drifted back to last weekend and the moment that passed between me and Levi. Had I imagined the way he’d looked at me?
“Don’t be stupid, Emeline. Of course you did. He declined your request to dance, remember?” I exhaled and shook my head. “He’s not interested in you, so you need to just move on.”
The sound of the knock on my open door caused me to let out a small yelp, then look to see my brother standing there with a grin on his face.
“Taking to talking to yourself now, little sister?”
“No. I was working something out in my head.”
“Something? Or someone?”
My head tilted as I regarded my brother. “No idea what you mean.”
He sat down in the seat across from my desk. “Levi.”
“What about Levi?”
“Really? Are we going to do this?”
I folded my arms over my chest, stubborn to the end. “Apparently, we are, because I have no idea what you’re talking about, Caden.”
“You like him. I’ve always known you do.”
For some silly reason, tears stung the back of my eyes.
As if my brother could sense I was about to lose it, he reached across the desk and held out a hand.
Placing mine in his, I sighed. “It would never work.”
Frowning, he asked, “Why not?”
“Oh, let’s see. For one, he thinks I’m too young. Second, he told me he has no interest in dating. And three, I’m your sister.”
“Why does you being my sister matter?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Isn’t there some kind of code? Like sisters are off limits or something?”
Caden laughed. “If there is, I don’t know about it. Emeline, the only thing I want is for you to be happy. As long as the guy treats you like you deserve, I’m not going to sit here and tell you who you can and cannot date.”
I smiled, but it faded slowly. “I appreciate that, but it doesn’t change the fact that Levi isn’t interested in dating anyone, least of all me.”
He gave a one-shoulder shrug. “You didn’t see the way he was glaring at Luke when we left the bar Friday night.”
A little bubble of hope welled up inside me. “He was not.”
“Even Gatlin and Ensley noticed. She said Levi was asking about Luke.”
I frowned. “Really?”
He nodded. “Listen, I don’t know if Levi is ready to start dating, but I do know for a fact that he’s not heartbroken over Caroline.
I think his healing has more to do with Brooke and starting over in River Falls with Rhett.
I know I don’t have a great track record, but would you care for some advice from me anyway? ”
“Yes, please,” I said, as I leaned forward in anticipation.
“Give him time, be his friend, and don’t try to hide what you’re feeling.”
My eyes went wide. “You want me to tell him I have feelings for him?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. But don’t be afraid to show them.”
I felt my face screw up in confusion. “That doesn’t make any sense. You’re saying…flirt with him?”
“No. I mean, a little flirting wouldn’t hurt. I’m just saying, don’t be afraid to show your feelings, Emeline.”
I sighed. “I don’t know if I can do that. What if he only looks at me as a friend?”
Caden stood. “Like I said, I’m not the best when it comes to stuff like this.”
Standing as well, I replied, “I saw how you treated Rachel. You are good at stuff like this. You were just with the wrong person, that’s all. Speaking of—what in the world was that with you and Lilibeth on the dance floor? I haven’t seen you dance like that in so long!”
He rolled his eyes. “The only reason I danced with her was to shut her up. My God, that girl is so…peppy. Is she always like that?”
“Happy? Positive? Caring? Yes, she is. And she’ll be helping me with the summer camps.”
“As long as she stays away from my side of the ranch.”
With a frown, I asked, “What do you have against Lilibeth?”
He gave me a look that said my question wasn’t even worth answering. “She’s annoying as hell. Just keep her on your side of the ranch.”
Before I could say anything else, he turned and walked out of my office just as my mother appeared.
“Morning, Mom,” Caden said, bending down to kiss her on the cheek.
“Well, good morning, Caden darling.” Her eyes bounced from Caden to me. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s peachy,” he replied, glancing back at me before he walked away.
My mother shook her head and walked into my office. She reached down and took one of my Swedish Fish. “How do you eat these things and stay so thin?”
I shrugged. “Good genes?”
She chuckled, motioned for me to sit back down, and she took a seat as well.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yes, why wouldn’t it be?”
Studying her face, I replied, “Because you seem like something is wrong.”
“Fine. There are two things we need to talk about. One—The Daily Dirt.”
Leaning forward, I scowled. “What did they say this time?”
“They mentioned the annual pie contest.”
“This early?”
She nodded. “You know why, don’t you?”
Now I had to fight to keep the smile off my face. My mother and Grace Miller always went toe-to-toe in the annual pie contest. My mother’s cherry pie had won more than Grace’s caramel apple pie, which, honestly, was heavenly. But Mom’s cherry pie was to die for.
“Can’t say I do,” I answered.
Mom’s mouth fell open slightly, as if I’d offended her by not knowing the reason. “It’s obvious. She’s trying to hype up her stupid caramel apple pie by writing about it!”
Pressing my lips together, I nodded gravely. “Did she write about her pie?”
Sighing in frustration, my mother nodded. “Yes, Emeline, she did! She mentioned how many times she’s won, and then, at the end of the article, she said this year’s cherry crop isn’t looking so good! What in the hell? She doesn’t even grow cherries.”
My hand flew up to cover my smile.
“This isn’t funny, Emeline Wilde. The woman is raising doubts about the cherries. People are going to have it in their heads my cherries are no good.”
“Mom,” I started in a calming voice, “no one is going to think your cherries…aren’t good.
” I had to press my lips together to keep from giggling.
After a stern look from my mother, I got myself in check.
“Everyone loves your cherry pie, and no matter what Grace or Janet writes, people will know your cherries are as delicious as ever the second they taste them.”
She leaned back in her chair. “I need to fight fire with fire. I’ve gone too many years letting that woman take digs at me in her little subtle ways. No more!”
I jumped when she shouted the last two words. “What do you mean, fight fire with fire?”
Mom stood, placed her hands on her hips, and smiled. “I’m going to have an article written in my own newspaper!”
“What?” I asked, nearly knocking over my chair as I stood. “You don’t own a newspaper.”
She chewed on her lip and nodded. “Can’t talk right now, Emeline. I need to do some research.”
Blinking, I rushed to follow her to her office across the hall. “Mom, you can’t just start a newspaper.”
She sat down behind her desk, pulled the old-fashioned Rolodex toward her—which I still didn’t understand why she used—pulled out a card, and held it up.
“Ha! Here we go.” When she saw my confused expression, she smiled. “I’m going to call a friend of mine in Denver.”
Shaking my head, I asked, “And?”
“She owns The Colorado Post. I’m going to ask her to do an article about River Falls and our annual pie contest, and mention me and my famous cherry pie.”
I was pretty sure my mouth was hanging open in stunned silence.
“Don’t you see?” When I didn’t say anything, she went on. “Not only will it bring even more people to River Falls, which will be great for the economy, but they’ll come just for my pie! It’ll drive Grace mad!”
I held up my hands and closed my eyes. “Okay, wait, Mom. Where is this really coming from? You don’t have to prove anything to Grace Miller.”
“I know I don’t, but she crossed a line when she went after my cherries. And my hen!”
Blinking at her, I asked, “She insulted Mildred?”
Mildred was my mother’s pride and joy. We often teased her that she loved Mildred more than her own kids.
“Yes! In the same article, she said Mildred wasn’t really an Orpington! She crossed two lines.”
“What about all the times she went after the family? Like when she claimed it was really Gatlin working as a farrier, and not Ensley?”
She waved me off. “Everyone knew those were made-up lies.”
“What about when she said I didn’t deserve to win the state championship in barrel racing?”
Snapping her head up, she pointed at me. “I went down to the gift shop and demanded she retract that!”
I bit my lip. I’d forgotten she’d done that.
“Are you trying to say I care more about my cherries and chickens than I do my own kids?”
“No. But do I need to remind you about the time when the new pediatrician asked you my birthdate, and you gave him Mildred’s birthday, instead.”
Her cheeks turned pink. “That was one time, Emeline. Are you ever going to let that go?”
“You got my birthday mixed up with a chicken’s, Mom.”
She stared at me…then sat back in her chair with a sigh. “Oh my God…what is wrong with me?”
“It’s okay,” I said, kicking at nothing on the floor. “It hurt at the time, but I’m over it.”
When she didn’t say anything, I glanced up to find her scowling at me. “I’m not talking about that, Emeline. I’m talking about letting Grace get to me. I lost my head for a moment.”
“Good. I’m glad you see that.”
She smiled softly. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
“Sure thing. I’d better get back to work.”
Turning, I started to leave…then stopped and glanced back at her. “But I’d still call your friend in Denver. That was a genius idea.”
She winked. “Oh, I intend to.”
I headed back to her office when I remembered she’d had two things to talk about. She was already on the phone with her friend. Smiling, I turned around and walked away. Whatever the second thing was, it could wait.