you ladies don’t know me, and I feel like I’m imposing.”
“Nonsense!” Mrs. Thalberg said with a grin. “This house is as much his as mine since my son owns it. And not know you? You’re Agatha’s granddaughter, and that’s good enough for me. Nate must think you’re special to bring you here.”
All three women leaned toward her, and Emily almost leaned back. “We only met briefly last night. I stopped for dinner, and then my car broke down. Nate took me to the building, but . . .” She trailed off, not knowing how to explain the condition in which she had found things.
Mrs. Palmer’s eyes narrowed. “That little restaurant closed without any notice. I never did trust those people. They didn’t make friends—”
“Which is very foolish for a restaurant needing customers,” Mrs. Ludlow interrupted. “And they would set trash outside their back door rather than take it right to the Dumpster. Unsightly.”
“Well, they weren’t nice people,” Emily said, “judging by the condition they left the building. I’ll have a lot of cleaning and repairing to do before I can sell it.”
“You don’t want to keep it for yourself?” Mrs. Thalberg asked, studying her. “Or rent it out again?”
“That’s too difficult from San Francisco. And I need to finish my degree, so the money will come in handy.”
All three ladies nodded.
Then Mrs. Thalberg’s eyes twinkled as she said, “Nate lives just down the road.”
Back to Nate again, Emily thought, forcing a smile even as she was trying to control a blush. If these sweet old ladies knew what she’d been doing with him on top of a pool table . . .
She excused herself to remove the banana bread from the oven. The top was overdone, but when she cut several steaming slices, it didn’t look too bad. She sat down and offered everyone some, then buttered herself a slice.
“Connie,” Mrs. Thalberg said to Mrs. Ludlow, “did you know Nate remodeled this house all by himself?”
“I did not,” Mrs. Ludlow exclaimed, blinking with feigned astonishment. “He’s very talented.”
As if Mrs. Thalberg would ever keep that a secret, Emily thought, biting her lip to hide a smile. She kept her gaze innocent and polite.
“And when you see that boy on a horse, you know God meant him to ride.”
Mrs. Palmer nodded solemnly. “He’s so devoted to the family ranch.”
And he gets drunk and tries to seduce strange women, then gets mad when he’s rejected, Emily thought with a touch of sarcasm. She sighed, knowing she’d been “strange” enough to allow it. And not just allow, but participate with hungry enthusiasm.
“He renovated the cabin, too,” Mrs. Thalberg said, nodding. “It’s one of the original buildings on the ranch, and he made it so cozy.”
“And he takes such good care of us,” Mrs. Palmer intoned solemnly.
They might as well call him Saint Nate.
“But he doesn’t only work hard,” Mrs. Thalberg continued, oblivious to Emily’s discomfort. “He knows what it’s like to enjoy himself.”
Emily coughed on a piece of banana bread, and Mrs. Palmer whacked her on the back.
“He snowboards, of course—don’t all the young people?” Mrs. Thalberg beamed. “And he still rides a bike—up on that mountain that towers over our heads! Ever since high school, where he played so many sports, it’s like he’s a daredevil. Now it’s climbing rocks.” She shook her head, tsking.
“They do what makes them happy,” Mrs. Ludlow said with a sigh. “Look at my granddaughter—she drives a snowmobile too fast!”
The discussion degenerated into the dangerous mountain sports each of their grandchildren participated in, and Emily used their distraction to finish the dishes and find plastic containers for the food. She needed to escape the Nate festival, and she desperately wanted to see her building in broad daylight.
When at last the ladies noticed that she’d come to stand next to the table, Emily said, “Mrs. Thalberg, I’m going into Valentine today. Are there any errands I can run for you ladies? I don’t know what time I’ll be back . . .”
“I’ll drive you!” Mrs. Thalberg insisted, rising to her feet in her housecoat and slippers.
“No, ma’am, I truly need the exercise. And it’s not far, not even a mile.”
“Well, that’s true . . .” she said, still looking concerned.
“It’s a beautiful day, and I’ll enjoy being outside before being cooped up for the rest of the day.”
They still looked concerned when Emily emerged from the small apartment with her purse and a backpack with a few supplies.
“Promise you won’t work too hard.” Mrs. Thalberg offered her a