Page 48 of Swift and Saddled

“Because she’s at the store.” I rolled my eyes. Of course he knew that. Last month, Emmy was doing a solo cattle drive, and she didn’t have a radio. We couldn’t get hold of her, so I’d done what any normal person would do: I checked her location on her phone.

Apparently Gus hadn’t known that was a thing. Now he was checking our locations constantly. I swear, every time I left the house, I got a text from him asking what I was doing.

“You need to stop checking our locations all the time. It’s creepy,” I said. Gus was already dialing Emmy. As he brought his phone up to his ear, he said, “I don’t have to check yours anymore. You’re always following Ada around.”

Asshole.

I heard Emmy pick up. “Hey, are you still at the store?” Gus asked. Pause. “Can you pick up a package of phyllo dough—maybe two—and bring them to the house? Wes is trying to make his own.” I heard Emmy’s muffled voice onthe other end of the phone. “Yeah,” Gus said. “That’s what I said. He doesn’t watch it.”

Jesus Christ.

“All right, see you soon.” Gus hung up the phone. “Emmy will be here in twenty minutes. Let’s start on this filling.”

Gus started chopping scallions, garlic, and onions, and I started wilting some spinach in the biggest pan I could find. As much as I hated to admit it, Gus was a good person to have around in the kitchen. He read the recipe and took charge, and things started going a lot more smoothly.

Before long, Emmy came into the kitchen with a few grocery bags in tow.

“All right,” she said. “I got five boxes of phyllo dough, because the situation sounded dire.” Okay, well, that felt a little dramatic. “I also got a loaf of sourdough bread and a bag of Sour Patch Watermelons.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because Ada and I bonded over our love of both of those things last night, so I figured it would be good for you to have a backup in case whatever you’re making isn’t edible.”

I wanted to argue, but she had a point, so instead I just said, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, and I also got you some mini Reese’s.” Those were my favorite. They had the perfect ratio of chocolate to peanut butter.

“Emmy,” Gus said, “can you start prepping the phyllo? I got some olive oil and a brush out for you.” She gave Gus a salute. Before she got started, she connected her phone to the kitchen speaker and started playing the country station. Emmy liked to have background sound—music, TV,whatever—while she was doing things. She said it helped her focus.

“Yes, Captain.”

The three of us worked together on the dish. I think it was the first time since Emmy came home that we were together—just the three of us. It was really nice.

I recognized that when it came to the sibling department, I was a lucky guy. If I had to live in anyone’s shadow, I was glad that it was theirs.

“So, Gus,” Emmy said, “did you give Cam any sort of warning that Dusty was coming back to Meadowlark?”

“What?” Gus said, confused. “Why would she need a warning about that?”

“You’re an idiot” was all Emmy said, with a shake of her head. I hadn’t thought of giving Cam a warning either. Cam and Dusty had dated in high school. As far as I knew, Cam was the last woman Dusty had actually dated. It didn’t end well, but I didn’t know if that meant she needed a warning that he was coming home.

Together, the three of us layered the spinach filling and phyllo dough. Once we got to our last layer, Emmy brushed olive oil over the top of it, and we put it in the oven. I set a timer for twenty-five minutes.

Of course, it was nice that my siblings showed up to help, but I was more grateful that they stayed to help me clean up. I had made a giant fucking mess.

“So,” Emmy said as we were cleaning up the last of the flour, “what inspired this bout of baking? Did somethinghappen with Ada? Besides the initial makeout, obviously.” I stayed quiet a second too long, because Emmy’seyes got big and bright as she shouted, “I knew it! I fucking knew it!”

She didn’t have a chance to say anything more because the front door opened. Shit, that couldn’t be Ada, could it? I looked at the clock on the microwave—the cockblock of the century—it had been a few hours since I started.Shit.

But it wasn’t her voice I heard first—it was Teddy’s. “That corset top is going to look so fucking good on you,” she said as she came into the kitchen. Ada was right behind her, and my heart felt like a kick drum at the sight of her. Her oversize black sweater had fallen off one of her shoulders. I thought about putting my mouth there last night.

Fuck.My jeans tightened.

Her hair was pulled up in a bun, but since it was short, the bottom layers were falling out. She was wearing jeans that were tight on her hips but loose everywhere else. When she saw my eyes on her, she smiled.

God, she was beautiful.

“What am I smelling?” Teddy asked, looking around the kitchen. Once she saw Gus, she said, “Shit. That’s what I’m smelling.”

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