Page 13 of The Way to a Cowboy's Heart

“No, nope,” he said. “You’ve already done that. That’s all I needed to say. Sorry for botherin’ your dinner. Ya’ll have a good night now.” He started to back out the door.

“Wait. If you won’t stay, let me wrap up a plate for you. It’s all ready. Just give me a second. I’ll bring it you.”

“No, I—”

“Wait right here.” And she disappeared into the kitchen, before he could argue.

He stood awkwardly, not certain what to do. Liam took a step closer. “From the aroma coming from that kitchen, I’d say she means what she says.” He held his hand out to him. “Liam. Nice to meet you, Pete.”

“You, too.”

“Strangers,” he said. “I get it. I’ve never been real comfortable mingling with them either.”

Pete straightened and shifted his feet, taking in all the couples in the room. “You Emily’s boyfriend?”

“Me? No. We just met. Today as a matter of fact. My friends over there are responsible for my being here.” He glanced toward the kitchen, where Emily was trying to put a plate together for her friend. But it was funny he’d asked that. Funny, but not in a ha-ha way. To Pete, he said, “I’m not from around here.”

He nodded. “Me neither. Kentucky.”

“Horse country. I’m from Montana. We like horses there, too.”

That raised Pete’s eyebrows. “My daddy was a horseman. I grew up around ’em. Kentucky horses. Thoroughbreds.”

“We’re mostly quarter horses where I am. But you gotta admire a long-legged Thoroughbred. They sure are beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Pete said with a faraway look in his eye. “They were good people. Horses, I mean. You have any? Horses?”

“We do. We have a little working ranch out there called the Hard Eight. Our ranch horses work our cattle. And we take in some mustangs from the BLM, feed ’em and watch over them for the government. Some of them get trained if they’re young enough.”

“Oh. Cool,” he said loosening up a bit. “I was a kid, mornings, my old man used to let me warm ’em up on the track before the jockeys got there to take ’em through their paces. Nothin’ too dangerous. I loved ’em.”

“I can see why. And somehow, you ended up in New York City.”

Pete chuckled a little sadly. “That’s a story for another time. Maybe the ending to that story’s about to change.”

“That’s what I like about stories. Their endings are always fluid. Depending on the point of view.”

Pete frowned at him. “Stories we tell ourselves, at least.”

Good point. “Very true.”

Emily reappeared with a tin-foil-covered plate for him and some silverware wrapped in a napkin. “Here. I hope you enjoy it,” she told him. “It’s made with love. Don’t let it get cold before you eat it. Okay?”

He nodded. “Thank you, Ms. Emily. I’ll get your plate back to you.”

She smiled a little sadly. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Pete.”

“And to you, too.” He nodded a goodbye to Liam and then to her and disappeared out the door and was gone.

Emily sighed with a look at Liam. “Thank you for talking to him. He was just nervous. That’s all.”

“That was kind of you. Makin’ him a plate.”

“I wish he’d stayed. But…”

But Liam understood why he hadn’t. “Seems like your kindness meant a lot to him.”

“As did his to me.” She smiled brightly. “Well, I’d better get dinner served up. Get yourself some more wine. I’ll be out in a minute.”

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