Page 35 of The Cowboy Comes Home

“You should come out to the ranch and play with Maverick,” he said to the dog. Then, brow slightly furrowed, he looked up at Emily. “He gets to play, doesn’t he?”

She smiled at both boy and dog. “Yes, he does. He needs to because he has to be so serious the rest of the time.”

And it was true, she took the dog out to Chance’s place two or three times a week where he could run free in the huge fenced area he had for just that purpose. She knew that more than once a dog who truly was lost, who was never able to put the trauma of war service behind him, lived out his days there when if not for Chance Rafferty he would have been put down.

Jeremy glanced up at Nic. “It’d be okay, wouldn’t it? If he came out so he and Maverick could play?”

“Of course it would,” she told him, and Emily could see the love in the woman’s eyes as she looked at the boy who would soon be her son. She felt a little pang, then felt guilty for envying her friend. Then Nic shifted her gaze to Emily. “Please come whenever you like.” She smiled. “Although better when Jeremy is home, so the three can wear each other out.”

Emily chuckled. “We may just do that. Maybe after the rodeo.”

“I don’t have to go back to school until Friday,” Jeremy contributed. “But we’re goin’ to the rodeo. Uncle T has to talk or something. ’Cuz he’s famous in rodeo, Dad said.”

“He is that,” Emily agreed.

“He’s also hiding out,” Nic said, making Emily shift her attention completely. “Lily’s interview was pretty tough on him. Jackson says he never really talked about that stuff before, publicly.”

“I…haven’t read it.”Yet.

“Uncle T is hiding?” Jeremy asked, looking worried.

Nic shifted her focus back to the boy, crouching down to be at eye level with him. “Have you ever said or done something and then afterward wondered if you should have?”

The boy thought for a minute. “Yeah. When I yelled at Dad once I wished I hadn’t, after.”

“Well, it’s kind of like that,” Nic said. “Except he talked about some really painful things.”

Jeremy thought again, then, his expression even more troubled. “You mean like if I talked about my mom?”

Nic reached out and put a hand gently on the child’s shoulder. “Exactly like that, Jeremy. Because he talked about his mom, and he never, ever does.”

That caught Emily’s full attention. Inwardly she gave a resigned sigh, because now she absolutely knew she was going to have to read the darn thing.

“Oh,” Jeremy said, an understanding no seven-year-old should have to carry echoing in his voice.

“But you know what I think could cheer him up?” Nic asked.

“What?”

“You going to see him,” she said with a smile. Then she straightened up and looked directly into Emily’s eyes. “And you. Specifically.”

Emily blinked. “I…”

“Come by any time,” Nic said. “Well, except maybe for rodeo day,” she added with a grin.

Emily grabbed for the distraction. “Yeah, I’ll be a little busy that day.”

“I figured. But make sure you’re there to see Tucker do the launch. I’m betting it’ll be the shortest one in Last Stand history.”

Nic was grinning again. Emily smiled back, but the only thing she could think of was how she would feel if Tucker indeed took her suggestion.

Chapter Seventeen

“Second thoughts?”

Tucker looked up from the bridle he’d been cleaning and over to where Jackson was wielding a hoof pick on the left front hoof of the cantankerous Splatter. The piebald was named for the unusual splash of black with smaller spots that looked exactly like someone had thrown a bucket of paint at him—and Tucker could see why someone would.

The pinto tried to dance away yet again as Jackson waited for an answer. Tucker tried to steer the conversation in a harmless direction.

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