A Town Called Valentine(75)

“We’ll let you finish here and get your horses back to the trailer before there’s too much rain,” Mr. Thalberg called. “See you at the ranch.”

Emily looked back as they rode away to see Nate staring after them momentarily before dismounting and going to help his brother and sister. The rain began in earnest then, and she was glad for the heavier clothing Mr. Thalberg had insisted she wear. Once they were in the pickup, he blasted the heat, but she was still chilled through.

Back at the ranch house, she hurried into the bathroom in the hallway near the bedrooms. After discarding her wet clothes in a heap, she hopped into the shower and let the hot water soothe her. As she toweled off, she could tell by the voices echoing through the house that the others had arrived home. And then she realized that her dry clothes were in Brooke’s bedroom. She swore silently under her breath.

Nate opened the bathroom door. “Hey, Josh, I left my—”

She gave a little shriek, thankful he only saw her naked back before she yanked the towel higher and wrapped it around her.

“Jesus, I’m sorry,” Nate said, making no move to shut the door as his gaze took in her towel-clad body. “I thought Josh had arrived before me.”

She rolled her eyes. “No knocking in the Thalberg household?”

He grinned. “Well usually, but I did hear the water shut off, and just assumed.”

That cocky grin slowly died, and she felt as if she were wearing nothing at all, the way his gaze lingered on her damp skin. She should stop him; she should kick him out. But she stood still, basking in his admiration, wishing he’d come in and shut the door.

At last he cleared his throat and spoke in a husky voice. “Guess I’d better let you finish.”

“Oh, I’m finished,” she said, slipping by him, shivering as she brushed against his body. “I’ll be in Brooke’s room, so you might not want to accidentally walk in there.”

His chuckle sounded a bit strained, but she didn’t look behind to see. She finished dressing quickly, and although Brooke invited her to stay for lunch, Emily felt too guilty for abandoning Monica, so she headed back into town before Nate emerged from his old bedroom.

Nate worked hard all day, trying to rid his mind of the tantalizing glimpse he’d had of Emily. She’d been damp from the shower, her supple back bare of tan lines after winter. He’d had just a side glimpse of the roundness of one breast, and the image lingered.

He had dinner with his family, and when Brooke and Josh headed back to the irrigation dams, he hung back a moment, bringing the last of the dishes into the kitchen.

His mom stood at the sink, her cane resting against the counter beside her, her hips swaying a little to the radio she always played when she worked in the kitchen. She had his dark hair though she now had to color it to keep it that way, but her eyes were brown. Sometimes it made him sad that his green eyes were from the father he didn’t want to remember. Same with his height. His mom barely came up to his shoulders, but her exuberance always made her seem larger-than-life. She’d been dealt several terrible blows in her youth, but you never knew it to talk to her. When her MS flared up, she was the first one to wander the hospital, talking to kids in the pediatric ward or sitting with chemotherapy outpatients. There were times in her life she had to use a wheelchair, but she got up every day looking forward to whatever chores she could do.

Now, as he set the dishes in the sink, she glanced at him with amusement. He immediately grew wary.

“So I missed meeting your Emily,” Sandy said.

Nate sighed. “She’s not my Emily. She’s a friend I’m helping out.”

“A friend?”

“Well, yeah. I know she stopped by today, but it was because of the flowers you ordered.”

His mom raised an eyebrow, but his father was the first to comment. “She had questions about her dad, of course. I told your mom all about it.”

“Hope she didn’t make you too uncomfortable,” Nate said, feeling more and more awkward. “It was probably good you weren’t here, Mom, or she might have grilled you, too.”

“ ‘Grilled’?” Sandy echoed. “Having a conversation has now become an interrogation? It almost sounds like you’re warning me away from her.”

“Not true,” Nate insisted.

“If I didn’t know better,” his mom continued, her mouth turned up with repressed laughter, “I’d think you were in charge of who I can visit with.”