Marry Me for Real, Cowboy - Valerie Comer Page 0,45

recognition or emotion. With Cook crossing the kitchen aisle, Adam routed to Riley’s side of the island.

“Hey,” she said softly. “Want to talk about it?” A girl had to try, especially with an onlooker.

“I’m flying to Amarillo on Monday. I’ll be gone all week.”

Riley realized her jaw hung slack and snapped her mouth shut. “Amarillo?”

“Ace Desjardins’ funeral is Wednesday.”

“Do you want me to come?” Amarillo was far enough from New Mexico there was little chance of running into Raul.

Adam gave his head a quick shake. “Sawyer’s going with me. I told you about him.”

“Sawyer Delgado?” He was the third in their threesome, a cowboy from over near Saddle Springs. Adam had told her very little about anything to do with his rodeo days.

“Yeah. We’re meeting in Missoula.”

“Okay.” Riley’s arms wrapped around her middle. If Adam wouldn’t hold her, she’d have to hold herself. “I’ll miss you.”

“Ditto.” He strode across to the foyer. A moment later the outside door slammed shut.

Ditto? That’s all he had to say? She’d been trying to hold things together in front of an audience, but not him. Well, it would be his loss.

She met Cook’s curious gaze. “Men.”

Cook shook her head then glanced around before leaning toward Riley. “I’ll tell you something.” Her voice was soft. “The Cavanagh boys don’t know how to feel healthy emotions.”

What was Riley supposed to say to that?

“He’s come a long way, Adam has. You’ve been good for him, but he’s got to process this in his own way. He’ll come around. You’ll see.”

How much did Cook notice, anyway? Would she ever talk to Declan or Kathryn about their sons?

Riley studied the woman for the first time. She’d been a background figure, keeping food on the table, keeping the house picked up. Riley had only been thankful she hadn’t had to do it. “How long have you worked at Rockstead?”

“A long time now. I’ve seen a lot in my day.”

“How long?”

Cook took a few things out of the cupboard. “Since Monica left.”

Monica. That was Declan’s ex, right? His sons’ mother?

Riley slipped onto a seat at the island. Adam said he’d been thirteen when his mom married Declan. He was twenty-eight now, so... fifteen years. And Cook had been here longer than that. Huh.

She watched the woman measure and mix for a few minutes. “I don’t even know your name. Why does everyone call you Cook?”

“My name’s Cathleen Cook, and it was just too awkward for the boys when Kathryn came on the scene. It was easiest to default to my surname, since that’s how they thought of me, anyway.” Cook chuckled, shrugging. “I’ve answered to worse.”

What made a woman — Riley made a quick guess — of sixty-something live and work at a ranch with only Sundays off? Especially for a tough, no-nonsense man like Declan?

It was probably none of her business. It’s not like Riley wanted anyone snooping into her own reasons for being here.

Chapter Seventeen

Adam locked his emotions away and threw himself into his work over the weekend. He rode hard, wishing it were summer when the daylight hours were twice as long. He polished saddles and mended tack. He avoided everyone, not just Riley.

Nathaniel’s mood matched Adam’s, albeit for different reasons. Nat didn’t ask a lot of questions, and Adam had forgotten what he wanted to know about Nat and Ainsley. Declan allowed no booze on the ranch — his father had been an alcoholic, and he had no patience for it — so Adam and Nathaniel played incessant games of cards late into the night, a small fortune passing back and forth between them.

A fictitious one, of course. Just like his relationship with Riley. If he kept on like this, their breakup would be a natural outcome of Adam’s grief over Ace. For now, he just needed to hang on until he’d been to Texas and back. Then they’d figure out the next step.

Christmas was coming, right on the heels of his and Sawyer’s return flight. A guy would never know from decorations or music or dinner table talk at Rockstead. Declan wanted his sons to go to church to learn morality, but he had no use for emotional religion. The birth of a baby meant to save all humanity definitely fell into the latter category.

Adam didn’t feel like Christmas, anyway. Why had God taken Ace? It was like He was allowing evil to win.

By the time Adam hugged Mrs. Desjardins in Amarillo Monday evening, he was a wreck from too little sleep and too much thinking.

“Adam.”