Cattleman's Honor

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Before Emily could think of a response, Steven ran up and tugged on Rory’s skirt. “Mommy,” he whispered loudly, “I have to go potty right now!”

She put her hand on his dark head before she turned back to Emily. “I hope you will come by for coffee.”

“I’ll try.” Perhaps a visit wouldn’t be a good idea if it meant running into Adam again. “Thanks for everything.”

“No problem. I know what it’s like to be the new kid on the block.”

After Rory excused herself and allowed Steven to tow her away, Emily waved goodbye to Travis, who smiled in response. Before anyone else could approach her, she headed toward the parking area.

Adam took one look at the midriff-baring black outfit his daughter had on as she left the dressing room and decided he was being set up. Kim probably figured he’d happily double the limit he’d allowed if she would agree to something that covered more skin than it bared. “Okay, you’ve had your little joke,” he said with a grin. “Now show me the dress you really want, so we can get some lunch and head home. It’s a long drive, and I’ve got paperwork waiting.”

“Daddy!” she wailed, surprising him. “This is what I want. It’s just what everyone else will be wearing.”

“Everyone but you,” he replied firmly, trying not to notice the amount of leg the tiny skirt revealed. Even with her lip poked out and her blue eyes filling with angry tears, she was growing up before his eyes. “Now find something that makes you look like a fifteen-year-old and not a dance-hall girl.”

“I don’t think they sell nun’s habits here,” she retorted.

He kept his expression blank. “Well, you’ve probably got something in your closet that would do.”

She spun around and stomped back into the fitting room, her long dark hair swirling like silk. Adam stifled a chuckle. Two could play that game.

When she came out a few minutes later, still pouting, his heart stuttered in his chest. She was wearing a simple blue dress that matched her eyes. It was shorter than he would have liked, but he knew he’d buy it if she wanted. Then he’d chaperone that dance with a baseball bat tucked behind him, just in case.

Emily was in her studio the next morning with a cup of coffee in hand and the fragile old Bible on her worktable, when Monty, who’d been curled up by the heater, raised his head and whined.

Emily pushed her chair back. Her neck was stiff from studying the Bible through the big magnifying glass. She glanced at the collie, who’d gotten to his feet. “What is it, boy?”

As Monty padded over to the door, Emily heard the sound of an approaching vehicle. Her first thought was that Adam was back and the only concession she’d made to her appearance this morning was to wind her hair into a topknot and stick a pencil through it. Her second thought was to wonder why it mattered.