Songbird(15)

A glance at his tired eyes confirmed her suspicions. He and Greer both looked tired. And worried.

“Emily was hungry,” Greer said. “We came down before Buck took over and barred everyone from the premises.”

Taggert grunted and took a seat next to Emily. He glanced sideways at her saucer. “You gonna eat that?”

She smiled faintly and slid the plate along with her half-full glass of milk at him. She stole a look at Greer as Taggert wolfed down the toast. There was an impatient set to his stance as if he was being held up and didn’t like it.

Before, in the bedroom, when she’d looked into his eyes, she’d found the courage to speak up, to state the need for them to talk, and she’d had every intention of asking the questions that burned in her mind. But now, faced with both of them, her courage waned.

Another peek at Greer told her that he was as ill at ease as she was. The least she could do was meet this head-on and quit hiding. She’d done enough of that in the last year.

She cleared her throat, swallowing some of the soreness away, and then she massaged it with her hand, more in a gesture of nervousness than an attempt at comfort.

“We need to talk.”

She glanced sideways at Taggert as she spoke so he’d know she was including him.

He set the now-empty glass down in front of him and turned those dark eyes on her. There was cautious reserve set deep in the brown pools. Almost like he was building himself up for what was coming.

Now that she had their attention she had no idea what to say. She licked her lips and opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

“I—”

The back door slammed, and she jerked around in her seat to see Buck standing there, his eyebrows up as he looked at her and then the others.

“What in Sam Hill are y’all doing up at this hour? Breakfast won’t be on the table for another hour.”

Taggert looked guiltily down at the empty saucer in front of him then hastily shoved it toward Greer. Emily’s shoulders shook. Taggert looked like an errant child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“I can still eat,” Taggert said.

Buck snorted. “Of course you can. You’ve still got one hollow leg to fill. It’s a wonder your parents didn’t go bankrupt trying to feed you boys.”

Emily stole another peek at Greer, who looked even more annoyed. His gaze told her that the interruption was not welcome, that he was seething with impatience, that he was tired of waiting.

Buck’s appearance was a welcome reprieve to her.

“You going to eat?” Buck asked her as he dug into the cabinets for the pans he needed.

She started to shake her head but stopped when she met three disapproving stares. “Uh, okay,” she agreed. More wouldn’t kill her, and who knew, maybe it would go down better than the toast.

Buck puttered around the kitchen, efficiently preparing a breakfast large enough to serve the half dozen hands that lived on the ranch. Emily avoided the gazes of Greer and Taggert. She needed all the courage she could muster, and she wasn’t going to waste it on a few stolen glances.

The hands filed inside just as the first rays of light filtered through the kitchen window. The foreman Rand stopped at Emily’s stool and smiled at her.

“It’s good to see you again, Miss Emily. It’s been a long time.”

She smiled. Rand had always been polite, extremely courteous and shy around her.

“Hello, Rand.”

“Will you be visiting long?”

She stilled, unsure of how to answer his question. Of course he’d assume she was visiting. The ranch had never actually been her home even if she’d spent most of her time here when she was younger.

“She’s not leaving,” Taggert said in his don’t-argue-with-me voice.

It certainly seemed as if he were sending her a message rather than answering Rand’s innocent question.

Rand smiled and nodded. “Welcome home, then.”

“Thank you.”

The hands called out their greetings, some of them echoing Rand’s welcome home. There weren’t any new faces. The most recent hire had been years ago when Emily was still a permanent fixture at the ranch.

Taggert and Greer were good men to work for. Their hands’ longevity was a testament to that.

Taggert’s words lingered in her mind. He didn’t want her to go. Greer didn’t want her to go. But did she have a future here? And in what capacity did they want her to stay? Greer had been blunt. He wanted her. What did she want? What did she need?

God, but she missed Sean’s smile. His understanding. The way he made love to her. The way he made her feel. She tried so hard not to feel guilty. He wouldn’t want her to. He’d be the last person to want her to languish over his memory. Unfortunately, knowing it and practicing it were not the same. Not when every waking moment reminded her that if she’d made different decisions so many lives wouldn’t have changed.

Lost in thought, she ate quietly, not really listening to the conversation around her. One by one, the hands got up, collected their sack lunches and disappeared out the back door to go to work.

“Make me a list, Buck, and we’ll pick up what you need while we’re in town,” Taggert said as he leaned back in his seat.

She blinked when Greer turned toward her.

“Go get dressed, Emmy,” he said. “You can ride in with us and do your shopping.”