Oh, Grizzle. “I understand. The day my mother died, my hair was in a braid and I was wearing sparkly blue nail polish. I’ve not been able to braid my hair or wear blue polish since.” Violet Hurley’s lovely face came to mind and she missed her mother so fiercely, again wishing more than anything she were there. “I definitely understand the sentiment. Being reminded of who you were on a particular day.”
Grizzle glanced up at her, nodded, then let out a breath. “It’s not like anyone could hold a candle to Liza, anyway. I don’t know why I bother.”
“Well, no one will ever be Liza, but someone will light up your heart regardless. You asked out the librarian for a reason. You must find her attractive.”
He shrugged. “Only reason I asked her out is that she’s tall, like me. Tallest woman in Blue Gulch. You’re tall, and she’s got three or four inches on you. I’m six-four.”
Emma laughed. “Well, maybe you’ll meet another tall woman at the dance. Someone who has other attributes you find appealing too.”
He shrugged. “Not if I don’t clean up, though. No one will even give me a chance.”
“Well, maybe there’s a compromise. A comb instead of scissors. A little hair gel. You could just trim your beard a bit too.”
Grizzle let out quite a snort. “Me with hair gunk? CJ would laugh his head off.”
“Have you seen the amount of hair product in CJ’s hair?” Emma whispered with a grin.
Grizzle chuckled. “Well, maybe. Will you come by the bunkhouse ’bout an hour before the dance and help me?”
“I sure will,” she promised.
“Oh, and, Emma?” Grizzle called as she was leaving. “I don’t actually have a comb. I don’t think Hank or Golden will let me borrow theirs.”
Emma smiled. “I’ll pick one up for you at the drugstore today. I’m going into town for my shift at Hurley’s anyway.”
He nodded at her, and she headed outside. Jake was standing near the open barn doors at the other end, just on the other side of the stall where she’d been talking to Grizzle. He was signing off on papers a man she didn’t recognize was handing him. The guy got into his truck and drove off, and that’s when she noticed the stack of hay bales on the other side of Jake. Hay delivery. She wondered if Jake had heard their conversation. She wasn’t sure if Grizzle would like that.
“Jake?” she said. “I need to head to Hurley’s for my lunch shift, and I thought I’d do the grocery shopping after. You’re very low on fruit. And based on last night and this morning, the fridge and cupboards won’t last more than another couple of days. Could you give me the basics on what everyone likes and if there are any allergies?”
“No picky eaters or allergies among us,” Jake said. “We all pretty much like good basic home cooking. Meat and potatoes, chicken, pasta, fish. Big sandwiches for lunch. The usual for breakfast. The guys love their chips and pretzels.”
“Got it,” Emma said with a smile.
“We also all agree on pie, any kind,” Hank added, coming from the barn. “And chocolate chip cookies, the crunchy kind.”
She smiled again. “On my list. Well, see you at dinner.” She glanced at Jake and found she couldn’t take her eyes off him. Dammit. Why was she so drawn to him? The man was good-looking, yes. But it was more than that; there was something about him that made her feel...she didn’t even know. Made her feel what?
Stop staring at the man and get in your car, she ordered herself. She could feel Hank eyeballing her, and given how Hank did seem to catch most things, except his own gaffes when it came to dealing with Fern, apparently, she didn’t want the foreman to think she had a crush on the boss. She hurried to her car and got in. She lowered the windows to let in the gorgeous fresh country air.
Jake jogged over and leaned down, bracing those strong forearms on the window. “Grizzle okay?”
Hmm. Maybe he hadn’t been listening to their conversation. Or maybe he just didn’t want her to think he’d been eavesdropping. Regardless, she loved how much they all seemed to care about one another, despite the ribbing. “He’s letting me at him with a comb before the dance.”
Jake grinned. “Good work. Again.”
She grinned back. “So I suppose you’ll have to go to the dance, after all, given what Hank said about supporting the rancher’s association.”
He groaned. “Well, since it’s bucks’ choice, I have the choice of not asking anyone to dance.”
“I hear ya,” she said. “No thanks. Dances lead to dates lead to kisses lead to more dates lead to relationships and heartache.”
One dark eyebrow raised. “That’s exactly right.”
So why was she suddenly imagining herself in his arms for one sensuous slow dance, his hands on her waist, his body so close she could smell his shampoo?
And why did she like the idea of Jake not asking anyone to dance?
Jake watched Emma’s small silver car disappear up the long drive, and then he headed back to the house to answer calls and look at more auction sites, his mind on the idea of his beautiful new cook in his arms for a slow dance. Would not be happening. As he’d told her, he might have to go to the dance, but that didn’t mean he had to ask anyone to dance. And he doubted she’d go, either, based on what she’d said about being off the market for a relationship.
He was definitely off the market for the time being. His entire life had shifted when he’d met his birth mother the first week of May. Until five years ago, he’d never planned on even seeking her out. He’d always believed that his birth mother had given him up to provide him with a better life than she could, for whatever reason, and he’d admired her for that. But his heart and soul were with his parents, the Morrows, who’d adopted him. They’d been great parents, sturdy and steady, and when their surprise baby had come along ten years later, they hadn’t loved CJ, their biological son, any differently than they loved Jake.
He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he wouldn’t feel about his twin brother any more or better or differently than he felt about CJ, who was his brother, period. But Jake felt the call to see the man, to meet him, to know something about this twin brother he’d shared a womb with for nine months. That meant something too; it all meant something, every part of Jake’s birth story—from Sarah Mack’s pregnancy at sixteen years of age to how Jake felt right now. He had to find his twin and connect with him, even in the slightest way—a letter, an email, hell, even a text. Connection. That’s all he wanted. If they met and got to know each other and formed a relationship, even better.
Though, of course, CJ might not think so of that last part. He glanced out the window and could just make out CJ’s tall, strong silhouette on Shadow, their black gelding, as he checked on grass levels in a far pasture where they’d be moving the sheep. Yes, CJ was a player and a flirt and hadn’t been careful with people’s feelings, women’s feelings, but Jake wondered if the combination of the death of their parents and Jake’s discovery of his biological twin had done a number on the then seventeen-year-old. For the past five years, CJ had broken up with every young woman he dated, from one date to a few months, even if he’d really seemed to like her. Was he leaving them before they could leave him? Hurt him? Break his heart? Maybe. Jake wasn’t sure. CJ had a fun-loving exterior, and it was hard to tell just how deep he truly ran, even if Jake had seen his brother’s body shaking with sobs over their parents’ deaths, the day it happened and several times after. CJ felt; Jake knew that.
Jake stared at his cell phone, sitting on top of a glossy brochure for LoneStar Ranch, a breeding operation in town. Just call Carson Ford and tell him to get the search