Page 12 of The Way to a Cowboy's Heart

He was a beer guy, mostly, but he had to admit the red wine she was serving was fine. His Dallas-raised sister-in-law, Izzy, had tried to infuse some wine culture into their ranch over the last two years, but he’d resisted. Maybe he should try to up his game.

The woman named Susan was saying something to him and he dragged his attention away from the kitchen.

“Jess says you’re a rancher out in Montana. Where is your ranch exactly?”

“Marietta is in between Bozeman and Billings, between the Yellowstone and Marietta Rivers. Southern Montana.”

Susan, a fashion designer apparently, clapped her hands. “I adore Montana. A friend of mine bought land there near Flathead Lake and summers there. But the Absarokas. Oh! The views! The mountains!”

“It is pretty,” he admitted. “We do have lots of part-timers coming to our state. Tourists, too. We actually have a little guest ranch operation about to get up and running this spring.”

Jess said, “Which I can attest to being amazing, since Carolyn and I were the first guests last fall at the Hard Eight in one of their spectacular glamping tents. It’s a fantastic location. Liam has done an amazing job of it.”

“Not just me. It’s been a team effort, for sure. But we have high hopes for it come spring. We’re already getting bookings.”

“Well, we’re coming back,” Carolyn said. “Aren’t we, Jess? As soon as Zoe’s ready for a trip.”

Susan gushed, “We’ll have to come as well! We adore the west.”

Murial chimed in. “Montana sounds so romantic! The old west. Cow ranches. There’s nothing like it in England, really.”

“Get your sister to take you out there someday,” Liam said with a grin. “We’ll show you a good time.”

“Brilliant. I’ll work on that you can be sure.”

When the conversation took a turn to the IVF struggle Susan and her partner Merideth were having, Muriel leaned close to Liam, refilling his glass with more wine. “FYI, you were also the topic of conversation here as well after Em met you on the train. She was quite taken.”

Surprised, Liam glanced at the kitchen doorway where Emily was leaning over a dish, carefully constructing it.

A surge of something unfamiliar moved through him. “Yeah?”

“Oh, indeed,” Muriel said. “And to say that’s a rare thing for my sister is saying a lot. The fact that I heard about you at all is telling. Quite a coincidence that you found your way here tonight as well.” She shook her head. “Do you believe in fate, Mr. Hardesty?”

“It’s just Liam,” he said, amused by her bouncy personality. “And, well… I’ve never given it a lot of thought.”

“If you ask me—and,” she said, “clearly you’re not… asking me—but I think something quite fateful happened today between the two of you. How strangely delicious. I say ignore fate at your peril, because clearly, it seems the universe means for you and my sister to connect.”

He wasn’t sure if the universe or fate was involved, or if it was just coincidence that he’d offered Emily Quinn a seat today on a train and ended up here, but what he did know was that he didn’t want to make the same mistake twice. He wanted to get to know her better. And even though he was in town for a short time, he meant to make that happen, somehow.

There was a knock on the door and Emily hurried from the kitchen to answer it. His first thought was that the man standing in her hallway was delivering something. But at the sight of everyone in the room standing in little groups of conversation, Liam saw him back away, try to leave. But Emily caught him by the arm, insisting he come in. Reluctantly, he did.

To Liam, he looked like half the guys who rode cattle drives with him, minus the silver buckles, or the ones who hung out in the cowboy bars around town, though the man at her door was clean shaven with his hair slicked back and he wore a white shirt buttoned all the way up to his throat under his dark blue, puffy jacket. If there was anyone who felt more like a fish out of water than he himself did here, it was this guy. He was holding a small bouquet of red and yellow flowers, and he handed them to Emily.

“Pete! Thank you! I’m so glad you came,” she said. “Please. Come in. Come in and meet everyone. Everyone, this is Peter,” Emily announced. “He’s a friend of mine.”

Collectively, the group said hello and several moved to shake his hand in greeting.

Pete barely made eye contact with the others but nodded shyly. But he didn’t take his coat off and he didn’t make any move toward the group. Maybe Liam was the only one who could hear what he said to her next because the others had all returned to their conversations.

“No, I didn’t come for dinner, Ms. Emily,” he told her quietly. “I just came to give you these,” he said of the flowers. “And to say that your invite was the kindest thing anyone’s ever done for me. And I think today I didn’t act as grateful for it as I should’ve just for the askin’.”

“Oh. No. Don’t be silly. Of course you’ll stay for dinner. I’ve made you a place at the—”

He shook his head. “No, no. I thank you again, ma’am. But I gotta be goin’. I just wanted to say… I just wanted you to know, that I… I won’t always bethis,” he told her, indicating himself, as if the person she saw before her wasn’t at all the person he was. “And it was your kindness and your invite here to your home that made me believe I could be somebody again. I just wanted you to know that. And to say thank you.”

Emily’s eyes grew bright, and her face flushed.

She swallowed thickly as she took his hand. “I… oh, Pete… you’ve been a good friend to me, too. And if there’s anything I can do—”

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