But the cabin had one drawback: it was within a half mile of the boardinghouse, and tonight that was too close. He was already imagining Emily getting ready for bed, and wondered what she wore, or if she wore anything at all . . .
Stop it, he told himself.
Scout took up his customary perch on the back of a couch up against the window, where he could look out over his domain. Nate smiled and ruffled between the dog’s ears, making Scout pant and look up at him with adoration. A dog only wanted affection, and that was so easy to return.
With a sigh, Nate turned away. He should get to bed, for the next day would be another long one. He was getting less and less sleep each night. Preparations for the Silver Creek Rodeo, run by his family, were heating up, and there were always the day’s chores at a cattle ranch. Instead, he paced, remembering Emily, and the way she’d insisted on going to her building instead of a motel. She really would have stayed in that unheated mess if he hadn’t insisted she leave. And all of that told him she was desperate, with little money and nowhere else to go. When he felt his sympathy being churned up again, he should have run the other way.
Instead, he’d put her with his grandmother and her friends, the town busybodies. They knew everything and everyone. Certainly, they could inform Emily all about her mother’s family. But they could also discuss Nate. And he didn’t want to be a topic of conversation, especially not after the way he’d behaved tonight at Tony’s Tavern.
After undressing, he stepped into the shower to remove the tantalizing scent of Emily still on his clothes, on his skin. If only cold water could remove memories.
It was still dark when Emily awoke at the beep of her cell-phone alarm. She didn’t hit snooze but sat right up. For just a moment, she’d thought she was at home, but she didn’t have a home anymore. Greg had remained in their elegant apartment in San Francisco, close to his law firm in Nob Hill, and she’d found a temporary little sublet across the bay. She’d been so furious with him, so disappointed and heartbroken at his betrayal, she hadn’t wanted to be tied to him in any way, so she’d refused alimony—his guilt money.
Sometimes it seemed like every decision she made led to a mistake. She’d fallen in love with Greg, a law student, while she’d been in college, and when he graduated, she quit school to marry him. She’d never enjoyed school although she’d gotten good grades, and had only gone to college because it seemed the thing to do. After her crazy upbringing, all she’d ever wanted was to be a wife, to make a home, to have a family. She still had warm memories of her father, Jacob Strong, the scent of his aftershave when he hugged her, how special she felt when he exclaimed over every art project she brought home from school. She’d dreamed of re-creating those simple but heartfelt moments for her own family.
But after her dad’s death, her mom had spent most of her time on her new age shop and the various men in her life, making Emily feel . . . inconvenient. It was how she had first discovered she loved to cook, for fast food or late meals had grown irritating. Delilah often forgot to come home to make dinner after work. But at least she always spent nights at home, and never at some guy’s place. It had taken Emily until adulthood to appreciate that. Her mom always said she wished she’d been born early enough to be a hippie, so she lived the life, from practicing reiki to insisting Emily call her “Delilah,” not Mom or even “Dorothy,” the name she’d been born with.
It had all come to a head for Emily on the opening night of her school musical. She had the lead, the youngest ever at fifteen, and thought for sure she’d given her mom a reason to be proud of her, a reason to care. But her mom hadn’t remembered to come. Every other kid had a parent—hell, a whole family—meet them backstage with flowers and hugs and praise. Delilah could charm a forget-me-not blossom and keep it in her purse to remember a date with a man, but her daughter’s musical was not that important. Emily had stood