Page 52 of Marrying a Cowboy

A hand tapping her shoulder drew her attention behind her. A sweaty, bald man with thick glasses was peering down ather.

“Would you like todance?”

Emma gave him a smile. Really, she didn’t. If anything, she just wanted to sit here. Alone. The man’s gaze kept darting back to a pinched lip woman who was prowling in the back. When she met Emma’s gaze, she pretended to converse with the passingwaiter.

“Honestly, no. But, if you’d like, you can sit here with me. We can pretend that we’re here together.” Emma knew all too well what it felt like to have everyone around her trying to set herup.

The man let out a huge sigh and slipped onto the seat next to her. “Thank you,” he said. “My mom won’t leave me alone and she doesn’t care that I broke the foot of the last person I took out onto the dance floor.” He waved to his rolled pants and black shoes. “I have two leftfeet.”

Emma giggled. “Then it’s probably better that we just hang outhere.”

The man smiled over at her. “Bert,” he said, extending hishand.

“Emma. Nice to meet you.” She shook hishand.

“Why is such a pretty girl here alone?” Bert’s cheeks turned pink as he dropped hisgaze.

Emma swallowed. Alone. She was alone. In a way, she’d always known that. But hearing the words spoken out loud had a sort of knife-in-the-chest effect onher.

“Sorry. Not my business,” Bert said, raising hishands.

Emma shook her head. “No, it’s not that. It’s just that. . .” She glanced down at the table. She hadn’t really spoken to anyone about what happened in Montana since she got back. Vincent had been trying to contact her but she wrote him a very short and to the point text. It contained fourwords.

STAY AWAY FROMME

Luckily, he hadn’t tried to contact her since. She was tired of men. Well, she was tired of slimymen.

“I was married, but he forced me to leave.” She pushed a few grains of salt around on the table in front ofher.

Bert raised his eyes. “Really?”

Emmanodded.

“What kind of man would make youleave?”

“The idiot kind,” a deep, smooth voicesaid.

Emma’s heart stuttered in her chest. When did Bert sound like Austin? Too scared to look up, she reached out and felt for Bert’sarm.

“Say thatagain?”

“That wasn’t me,” Bert’s voicereplied.

“Your fake husband? He’s anidiot.”

Emma swallowed and then braved heartbreak and looked up. Austin was standing behind her with his hands shoved into the front pockets of his jeans. He had on a plaid flannel shirt and cowboy boots. He looked like he’d stepped right out of a ranching magazine. If those thingsexisted.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, forcing her voice to come out normal. There was no way she was going to let him off easy. He had been the one to make her toleave.

“Emma, can I talk to you in private?” Austin’s gaze flicked over toBert.

Emma shook her head. She needed something here to ground her in reality and right now that something was Bert. “Whatever you have to say to me, you can say it in front of Bert.” She reached out and patted hisarm.

“It’s really okay. I can leave. I don’t want to interrupt.” Bert’s skin tone had turned a shade of red. He moved tostand.

“Don’t leave me,” she said through her clenchedteeth.

Bert hesitated but then settled down next toher.

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