One Wild Cowboy and A Cowboy To Marry: One Wild Cowboy / A Cowboy to Marry

He set a smoked chicken from Sonny’s Barbeque on the counter. Added flour tortillas and a hunk of Colby-Jack. “Why not?”

Curious—because she had assumed Dylan couldn’t cook—Emily moved back to give him room to work. “Ridge liked his family better. He thought they were superior to mine, and he wanted us to spend all our time—every holiday and a lot of other weekends, as well—with them.”

Dylan added olive oil to a cast-iron skillet. “Doesn’t sound fair.”

“It wasn’t.” Emily paced while Dylan chopped up an onion and green pepper and added those to the skillet, too. “I tried to get Ridge to be reasonable about the situation—to at least divide the extended-family time fifty-fifty, but he wouldn’t budge, so that ended that.” The kitchen quickly filled with a delicious aroma.

“And since then...”

“There’s been no one serious.” Emily hadn’t wanted to get hurt. “I haven’t wanted to put myself out there, emotionally, unless I knew everything else was falling into line, that we were going to be compatible in all the ways that mattered, even if that meant one...or both of us...had to change.”

Dylan wrapped the tortillas in foil and set them in the oven to heat. “And you were willing to do that,” he murmured, as he grated the cheese.

Emily nodded. “Sometimes the guys were, too. But ultimately, that didn’t work, either, because if you have to make yourself over to be with someone...you sort of start questioning if it’s worth it.”

Dylan brought out some premade guacamole, pico de gallo and sour cream. “I can understand that.”

“Anyway, I got frustrated with working so hard on a personal life and failing, so two years ago I decided to start pouring all my energy into my career.”

Dylan added smoked chicken to the sizzling vegetables. “And that’s when you started the café.”

Emily nodded, edging closer to the stove. She watched as he gave the ingredients a stir. “And then, it became my baby,” she said softly. “So to speak.”

Dylan brought out two bottles of cold dark beer. Emily set the table. Minutes later, they sat down to eat their smoked-chicken tacos. Emily was pleased to find the pulled-together feast was every bit as delicious as it looked.

Deciding to satisfy her curiosity as well as her appetite, Emily murmured eventually, “Okay, enough of a confessional from me. What is your romantic history like? Have you ever been head over heels in love?”

Dylan paused. “I thought I was at the time. Looking back, I’m not so sure.”

“What happened?”

“I was working on a horse ranch in Wyoming, and I fell hard for the boss’s daughter. Mariah was in college at the time. I only had my GED. She knew her parents wouldn’t approve, so we had to see each other on the sly.”

This did not sound good.

“She kept telling me that it would be all right once she finished her undergrad and got into vet school—that her parents would know she wasn’t going to give up on her dream to be with me.”

“But it wasn’t,” Emily guessed.

Dylan shook his head. “In her parents’ view, a line had been crossed. There is the hired help—”

“You.”

“And the rest of the cowboys and house staff. And then there is the landowner. In their view I was never going to be part of the latter.”

That had to have hurt. “Did they fire you?”

Dylan nodded. “Oh, yeah, and they refused to give me a recommendation, which made it hard as hell to get another job—at least a good one—for a while.”

“I see,” she murmured. “Employers want to know why you left.”

His face hardened. “I wasn’t going to lie.”

“But at the same time...”

“When you say you had to leave because of an unfortunate romantic entanglement with the boss’s daughter, it doesn’t look good.” He exhaled sharply. “And you can forget it, if the prospective employer has a daughter of courting age.”

“Which brings us back to that talk you had with my father...” she prompted gently.

Guilt flashed across Dylan’s handsome face.

Emily leaned toward him. “He wanted to know what your intentions were, didn’t he?”

Dylan’s expression grew cagey. “He didn’t put it like that.”

“But he said something in the vicinity.”

Dylan lifted an infuriatingly autocratic hand. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

“But I—” Emily stopped abruptly at the sound of high-pitched whinnying. “Dylan, did you hear that?” she asked in alarm.

“Yes.” Dylan rose. “I sure as heck did.”

Chapter Six (#u0bbc0630-59cf-5b77-875e-ea5ae938998f)

Emily and Dylan rushed out to find Andrew letting himself into the paddock with the three wild mustangs.

“Let ’em all out!” the rowdy boys shouted.

“Andrew, no!” Emily screamed.

Realizing they were busted, the three teenage boys on the outside of the corral left Andrew high and dry and bolted for the pickup truck in the driveway. Dylan and Emily made no move to stop them as they peeled out—their concern was for the trapped, shaking boy, and the three horses who sensed danger.

“Easy, now, Ginger.” Dylan entered the enclosure. Head bowed, Dylan turned his shoulder toward the mare and tried to draw her in. She was having none of it. Her eyes were on the quaking boy behind him. Emily opened the gate, moving slowly and quickly, and slid inside, too.

While Dylan talked to the mustangs, urging Salt and Pepper to stay calm, Emily grabbed a hold of Andrew’s arm. She guided him outside the corral and shut the gate behind them.

Dylan continued soothing the three mustangs. When all were calm, he eased out of the gate and strode toward Emily and Andrew.

“Keep him here,” Dylan ordered before striding into the house.

Embarrassed and surly, Andrew yelled, “Go ahead—call my mom. I don’t care.”

What had happened to the once-sweet boy, Emily wondered. Who was this angry, defiant stranger?

Andrew wheeled on her. “Maybe you’ll fire me from the café now, too.”

“Is that what you want?” Emily asked, shocked.