Page 30 of Dirty Cowboy

Albert narrows his gaze. “Interesting, because Eric was visiting me in Aruba six months ago and he never mentioned a girlfriend.”

I don’t miss a beat. “This was after his trip. I remember his Aruba tan when he visited my brothers in New York.” I turn to Eric and place my hand over his. “Isn’t that right, honey?”

He clears his throat. “Yes, that’s right, darling.”

“Albert, Emma’s like family. This will be a simple transition with a spring wedding by the river,” Ethan adds.

Awhat?

Eric’s hand grips my knee under the table, grounding me. As a soon-to-be partner at Silver Securities, I hadplansfor spring. None of which included a wedding. But who am I to argue the notion of becoming Eric’s wife?

Ethan raises his beer. “Cheers to the engaged couple.”

The clink of glasses seals the deal.

I smile, lift my glass, and silently vow that if I don’t land my partnershipandEric by the end of this, I will lose my mind.

We join Eric’s father in the toast, and Grandpa Albert bumps my elbow again.

“So, Shadow? How did she handle?”

“She was the best ride I’ve ever had.”

A low grumble rolls through Eric’s chest.

“Shadow was a yearling when the Silvers came to visit. She followed Emma everywhere,” Ethan says.

Albert coughs into a napkin, the prolonged wheeze making everyone sit up until he rasps, “I remember that day. Ethan, you were supposed to buy new saddles but opted for worn-out crap.”

“Grandpa,” Eric scolds.

“It’s true. A year later, your father sold a new tractor because he swore he could fix the old one. He never did.”

“Ethan fell ill that year,” Joanne explains gently.

I clear my throat and set my fork on my plate. “You should hear about the year I crashed my father’s car.”

The attention shifts my way, and I roll with the lie. “I’m fine. The car? Not so much. It happened under an overpass. I didn’t expect the black ice.”

My fabricated near-death experience is terrifying enough to stop a family feud in its tracks.

“We’re glad you’re safe, Emma. Eric’s car died last month, but he refuses to buy a new one. Shopping isn’t the same on a horse.”

My head snaps to Joanne. “You go shopping on a horse?”

“Not me. Eric.”

Before I can push for details, Albert elbows me again. “What is it you do back in New York, Emma?”

“I’m a private investigator.”

“And will you miss your job when you move to Lords Valley after the wedding?”

For nearly two decades, winning Eric’s heart has been my sole focus, blinding me to the challenges beyond the altar. While I secretly hoped he’d move to New York, reality is setting in. There’s no way I can leave my home. Could Eric ever leave Lords Valley?

Faced with a new dilemma, I choose the path of least resistance. “I’m hoping the sheriff might need some help.”

“Oh, good. I’ll introduce you to Simon tomorrow.” Albert says, rubbing his belly. “That was delicious, Joanne.”

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