envied them. Valentine Valley had worked its magic, bringing the two of them together although they’d fought it worse than a calf at branding time. Despite living in Valentine her whole life, there’d been no romantic magic for Brooke, not yet anyway.
Nate and Emily jumped out of their pickup first, followed by Scout, Nate’s herding dog with black-and-white patches across his coat. When they saw the barn, they reached for each other’s hand, their faces full of dismay. Scout gave a little whine and gingerly went forward to investigate the scent.
Nate was tall, with their mom’s black hair and his biological dad’s green eyes. Doug Thalberg had adopted him when he was only five years old after falling in love with his divorced mom, Sandy. Emily was much shorter than Nate, strawberry blond hair back in the ponytail she favored when she worked at Sugar and Spice, the bakery she owned.
Emily didn’t spend much time staring at the ruins—she ran to Brooke and hugged her, then pulled back and gripped Brooke’s upper arms. “Are you okay?” she asked, her gaze roaming her face as if searching for signs of injury. “Your clothes are covered in soot.”
Brooke looked down at herself. “I’m okay.” She wasn’t sure if the sudden realization that she could have died was making her weepy, but she gazed on Emily like the sister she’d never had, so grateful to have her in her life, to have her care.
Then her dad gave her a bear hug that almost crushed her rib cage.
“Oh, Brooke,” he whispered, the sound rough.
For the first time, she felt a sting of tears. But she was okay, she reminded herself, and so were the horses . . . because Adam had helped her. “I’m fine, Dad. I’m so sorry about the barn.”
He broke the hug and cleared his throat, not bothering to hide the dampness in his eyes as he scanned her face. “The barn? What do I care about the barn as long as you’re all right?”
Beneath his Stetson, Doug Thalberg’s hair was the same plain brown as hers and Josh’s, but his was graying, along with the full mustache above his lip. His eyes, usually twinkling as if he knew life’s hidden amusements, now studied her soberly. “I called Hal after talkin’ to you. He says you ran into the barn yourself and saved the horses. That was too dangerous, Cookie.”
Brooke felt a flush of warmth at her dad’s use of his childhood nickname for her. “Any of you’d a done the same thing,” she countered.
“Always said you were brave,” Josh said, his grin lopsided.
As usual, he was unshaven and sleepy-eyed, as if he’d just rolled out of bed. For some reason that escaped Brooke, women seemed to like that look.
She shrugged, suddenly feeling a bit too warm at the praise, although the winter wind continued to tug at her braid, and a few strands of hair danced in front of her eyes. To her surprise, Josh threw his arms around her for a quick squeeze, then passed her off to Nate, who almost lifted her off the ground.
“Okay, okay, I’m fine,” she said, hearing the quiver in her voice and hoping no one else noticed.
Keeping an arm around her, Nate looked back at the ruins, as if by staring he could make things better. “We hear you had help. A stranger driving by?”
“Not a stranger. Adam Desantis.”
Nate’s eyes widened. Brooke expected Nate to start in on Adam’s past and felt strangely defensive on Adam’s behalf. Nate had never approved of Adam’s antics or arrogance. But to her surprise, Nate tugged on her braid, gave a relieved grin, then let her go.
“I’ll have to thank him personally for keeping my little sister safe.”
She blinked at him, even as she rolled her eyes. “Maybe I kept him safe.” But she couldn’t help glancing at Emily with amazed respect, knowing the other woman was responsible for the gentling of Brooke’s big brother.
“I didn’t know Adam was in town,” Doug said. “But his arrival was certainly lucky for us.”
“He saw the smoke from the boardinghouse when he was visiting his grandma.” She still felt a little surprised at the memory of getting off the phone with her dad, only to find that Adam had gone. She had seen his old battered pickup truck driving off toward the boardinghouse and felt both regret and interest.
“Whose grandson is he?” Emily asked with interest.
“Mrs. Palmer,” Brooke said.
“Ah.” Emily nodded. “Does Adam resemble her?”
Josh chuckled before Brooke could say