A Town Called Valentine(23)

Josh and their dad were just leading a saddled horse out of the barn. Ducks quacked and scattered out of the way, heading back to the pond. Josh would be driving the ATV in case they needed extra supplies quickly. Doug Thalberg squinted out over his land with the narrowed, gray-eyed gaze of a man who knew the worth of what he did. He had the same brown hair as Brooke and Josh, but his was going gray, along with his mustache.

Josh, as usual, looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, rumpled and unshaven, but always alert and ready for whatever the weather and the ranch would bring that day. His eyes, so similar to their father’s, saw the world kindly, but lately he’d been focusing too sharply—needlessly—on Nate.

“Nate, did you get word about the part for the swather?” his dad asked, all business. “The hay won’t cut itself.”

“And the cattle won’t feed themselves this winter,” Brooke added, grinning at their father’s oft-repeated phrases.

Josh smiled at their sister.

“He just called,” Nate said. “I’ll head to the office and call him back right now. You all go on ahead, and I’ll meet up with you.”

“Take your time,” Josh said. “We can handle the dams.”

“Nope,” Nate said briskly. “I won’t be long at all.”

“Afraid I’ll move my dams quicker than you will?” Josh taunted, grinning.

He sounded completely good-natured, but Nate knew a challenge when he heard one. Lately, everything with Josh ended up with a challenge.

“Not a chance,” Nate said. “I always do my share.”

Josh studied him, then shook his head. “I know you do.” He headed for the truck shed where the ATV was parked.

Brooke and their father mounted and rode off, several ranch dogs chasing them, but Nate stood with his hands on his hips, watching until Josh disappeared inside the shed.

Lately, Josh had this crazy idea that Nate was trying to do too much, spreading himself too thin, and Nate was mightily offended. He’d spent years juggling the ranch investments, his own, as well as his ranch chores. Nate tried to ignore Josh’s concern rather than confronting him outright, partly because he didn’t want their father to think something was wrong. When Nate had insisted on going to Colorado State while his parents would have preferred he go to school closer to home, things had changed between Nate and his dad. He got the feeling that Doug Thalberg thought he was going to leave the ranching business—much as he’d always told Nate he could choose whatever career he wanted. A subtle tension had worked its way into their relationship even though Nate had majored in animal sciences along with business.

When Nate was young, there was always a part of him that wondered if Doug could think of him as a real son because he’d been adopted. Nate’s biological dad had married his mom, then abandoned them when Sandy had been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. Nate, only four at the time, had brief memories of his mom’s sorrow, and that perhaps things had been hard, but his mom made sure he never knew it. A year later, Doug had fallen in love with Sandy, and when he married her, he adopted Nate. True to his word, the adoption had been a pact between them, and Nate didn’t think his dad could possibly love him or his mother more.

College had seemed to change something between them, and it had taken years to work itself out. They were fine now, and he didn’t want Josh upsetting things. Nate had the ranch’s best interests at heart, and he knew what he was capable of—Josh didn’t. So many mountain ranching families couldn’t make a living and had to sell out, but Nate had found a way to bring more money in. His wide variety of investments—rodeo stock, organic farms, even a winery at lower altitude—were a challenge to manage, and he’d certainly never imagined the pleasure he’d take in coordinating so much, including the Silver Creek Rodeo, a month away.

That reminded him—after his phone call with the parts supplier, he could check out the online registration and make sure all the program advertising was in place.

There was always so much to do, enough to keep thoughts of Emily Murphy at bay, to his complete satisfaction.

As Emily got dressed after her shower, thoughts of Nate kept interfering. He’d looked so damn good riding toward her like a cowboy out of a Western movie. She had no idea cowboys still wore chaps, but they’d covered his jeans, fringe flapping at the edge. He’d worn a heavy work jacket, gloves dangled from his belt, and even had a scarf about his neck as if he’d need to cover his face in a dust storm. A dust storm in the Rockies? That almost made her smile.