weighed on him. She would keep this truth about his grandma to herself in response and hope that Mrs. Palmer had it right.
Chapter Fifteen
Sunday afternoon, Brooke drove into Valentine and parked in the alley behind Sugar and Spice. She knocked on the back door, and Emily let her up the rear staircase to her second-floor apartment. Brooke walked down the little hallway, past the two bedrooms and the galley kitchen into the long room that was part dining room, part living room. Monica sat folding boxes from flattened cardboard into usable containers.
A huge picture window overlooked Main Street. Emily had several fake candles in the windows, little ceramic Christmas decorations on the tables, and a Christmas tree in the front corner. The decorations actually looked handmade, to Brooke’s bemusement.
Emily sighed. “Guess I should have waited on the tree. But I like to have one the weekend after Thanksgiving.”
“You and Nate can cut down another one at the ranch,” Brooke said, putting her arm briefly around Emily’s shoulders. “Leave this one here. I imagine you’ll be up here occasionally during the workday, right?”
“Of course,” Emily said, obviously relieved. “Smart thinking.” Then she sat down on the couch beside Monica and let her shoulders slump.
“Okay, what’s wrong?” Brooke demanded, coming to sit in the chair across the coffee table from them.
Monica put down the packing tape. “Spill it, girlfriend.”
“Poor Steph,” Emily began.
Brooke thought of the girl driving that horse trailer from one ranch to another, across town. “She didn’t get in an accident, did she?”
“Oh, no, no—it’s actually her . . . friend, Tyler.”
“They looked pretty close Friday night,” Monica said. “Like more than friends.”
“I know,” Emily said grimly. “And that’s what makes it worse. My father said he caught Tyler joyriding on one of his ATVs at the Sweet Ranch. He ran into a rock hidden under the snow and bent an axle. His ‘friends’ abandoned him on other ATVs, also stolen, but later found undamaged. Dad was pretty upset. He couldn’t just let him go—there was damage done.”
“Of course he couldn’t,” Brooke soothed. “Tyler has to learn the consequences of his actions.”
“So Dad called the sheriff, and a deputy took Tyler away. I didn’t want Steph to hear this as a rumor, so I went to her privately and told her what had happened. She started to cry, and begged me not to tell our father she’d been seeing Tyler. She believes he can come around and that she can help him, but if Dad forbids it . . .”
Brooke groaned and ran a hand down her face. “Oh, this is my fault. When she first told me about Tyler, I suggested she invite him to the Chess Club. I practically threw them together.”
“You couldn’t have known, Brooke,” Monica said with sincerity.
“It’s not like they’ve done more than hang out a few times,” Emily insisted. “But . . . Steph likes him and wants to help. I understand her—hell, don’t women always want to help? But I was so relieved she confided in me that I promised my silence without thinking things through. I did insist that the moment I thought Tyler could hurt her, the secret was done. And she agreed and hugged me and thanked me and said Tyler was trying to get away from a bad group of guys, and she wouldn’t go anywhere with him, only see him at school—” It was her turn to groan. “I’m a sucker. Who knows if he’s lying to her? How can I keep something from my dad when we’re only just getting to know each other?”
Brooke leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “Tyler could be lying to her—we all know that.”
Monica looked from Emily to Brooke. “And we all know someone who really was trying to get away from a bad crowd, and who stole a car, before getting his act together.”
“But as long as Steph doesn’t go hang out with this bad crowd of Tyler’s,” Brooke continued, “I don’t think it’ll hurt your dad too much for you to keep Steph’s confidence. If she trusts you, she’ll tell you things, right? If she’s mad at both you and your dad, she might be worse off.”
“Do you think so?” Emily asked with hope.
Brooke tried to infuse reassurance in her smile. “She’s a smart kid. I think you can give her the benefit of the doubt. She wasn’t joyriding, after all.”
“You’re both making me feel better,” Emily said. “All right, I’ll cut Steph a little slack. But I’ll keep an