Page 50 of The Way to a Cowboy's Heart

“I’m sorry to hear that. But if the visa wasn’t an issue, say, and you could do anything you wanted, what would that be?” Sarah asked.

At Emily’s wide-eyed look, she quickly said, “Oh, I’m sorry, that was quite nosy of me.”

“No, no.” Emily touched her arm gently. “It’s not. It’s a good question, actually. Not one I usually give myself permission to consider. If nothing stood in my way, you mean? My first thought is a Wall Street job. Like the one I had. Only better. It’s what I’ve been working so hard for so long. But when I take a step back and think about how… unhappy that job made me, well…” She leaned in. “Secretly, I’ve always dreamed of starting a kind of seasonal supper club with other women who love cooking, too. Where we’d make elevated food, experiment with recipes. Invitation only and use the best ingredients. It’s been done, I think, uniquely, but… yeah… that’s just a silly dream.”

Sarah toyed with her coffee cup. “It’s only silly if you don’t truly believe in it. Or try it. Right?”

“I suppose. I’ve never actually told anyone that before. But it’s neither here nor there. I have to return to London. And there, my father would never approve.”

“I see.”

Emily laughed sadly. “I know how that sounds. I’m a grown woman. But you don’t know my father. And that sort of thing just isn’t done in our family.”

“My dear,” Sarah said gently, “life throws a thousand choices at you all at once. Sorting through all of them is the hardest thing we ever do.”

She decided she liked Sarah, more than just because, clearly, she was a good mother—with all four of her children still close to her—but because she was a kind person. Nonjudgmental in a way Emily could only imagine her domineering father could never be.

They sat and sipped their coffee, talked about the Montana spring about to bloom outside the window and the number of cattle that were dropping calves in every pasture. Tara said how she had adopted a shivering barn kitten and brought it into her apartment out at the barn on a particularly cold night, and now it had settled itself onto her pillow beside her at night. She seemed quite pleased with the arrangement. And Emily remembered Liam talking about all of their barn cats.

Lolly had finished nursing and Emily stared longingly at her.

“Do you want to hold her?” Tara asked.

“Oh.” She hadn’t expected that. “May I?”

“Of course.”

A bit awkwardly, she took the baby in her arms, and Lolly folded herself against her shoulder as if they were old friends. She was warm and wiggly and she smelled—Emily inhaled deeply—delicious. “Oh,” she groaned, “My ovaries…”

Sarah and Tara both laughed sympathetically.

“Hello, little darling,” she murmured against Lolly’s hair.You are enough to make a girl rethink her entire existence.

Lolly burped loudly and Emily laughed. She had to admire Tara for doing this whole baby thing on her own. Single parenting was not for the faint of heart. But the sweet smell of Lolly alone was enough to tempt Emily to imagine it.

Then again, she simultaneously—and out of the blue—imagined having a child with Liam. She could almost picture him as a dad, a doting, wonderful father.

Stop. Just stop, Emily.

She thought of the half dozen of her girlfriends in New York who’d had babies in the last few years, complete with baby showers, brises, and birthday parties. Emily had attended them all with all the onesies, rattles and gift boxes of diapers she’d bought. But she was an outsider to all that. Removed, in a way. The old adage was true that friendships shifted when children came, and she’d found herself pulling away from all that, diving deeper into work, out of… what? Self-preservation? Determination to prove she didn’t need to have a child to prove she was worthy?And worthy to whom?

She stroked Lolly’s velvet-soft cheek.

It wasn’t that she’d always put children at the center of her life goals. She hadn’t. She was career first, childrenmaybe someday. But as she got older, as she did things like this—holding Lolly against her and getting doused with that baby smell, her little fist holding her finger, Emily wondered if something was shifting in her as well.Maybe somedaymeant the clock inside her had begun to tick and soon, she’d have to choose which side of the fence she would plant herself on. Maybe someday might mean the world did not, in fact, revolve around her own struggle to climb the ladder, but in opening herself to moments like this. Places like this. People who mattered.

But all this… it was only a moment. It wasn’t real life.

A rush of emotion threatened to erupt from her eyes, and she shoved that image right out of her mind. This, right here, was the danger of holding a new baby. It shoved reason and practicality out the window.

She handed Lolly back to Tara. “She’s perfect. Thank you. Now… I’d better check on those cakes.”

In the end, it was the Goldilocks scenario of cakes. But they all looked delicious and the whole house smelled of chocolate. Theyoohedandahhedover the cakes for a moment.

“I believe,” Emily declared, “my job is done here. You are both officially hired as chocolatiers.”

As Tara stared in awe of her finished product, Ray appeared from the living room, following his nose.

“Tell me we get to eat whatever that amazing smell is coming from,” he said, kissing Sarah on the top of her head.

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