Eamon Page 5

  He chuckled. “All right, then – ice cream it is. We can’t have you losing your mind. Hazel would kill me.” He was silent for a moment, watching her squirm. She glanced at him twice, then looked away with a sigh both times. What was going on with her?

  Just as he was about to ask, she leaned forward and flicked on the radio. She fiddled around, switching between stations until she found one playing experimental jazz. To Eamon, it sounded like a bunch of instruments being thrown against the wall, but she laid her head back on the headrest and closed her eyes, a smile lingering on her full lips. He raised an eyebrow as a saxophone leaped between notes, seeming to hit every one but the the right ones. This was how she relaxed? No wonder she was so tense.

  “You like this stuff?”

  She glanced at him, then nodded as her eyes drifted shut again. “Yep. Isn’t it amazing?”

  “It’s … wow,” he responded. “But if you really want to relax, you should try something like this.” He switched to his favorite radio station, Hometown Country 107.5, and cranked up the volume. The sound of a banjo filled the truck.

  Her eyes flew open and she clamped her hands over her ears. “Argh – too loud!” She reached for the volume and dialed it down.

  Eamon laughed and winked. “Now, that’s music.” They halted at a four-way stop, and he grinned when he saw Emily bobbing her head along to Keith Urban. He pushed his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose – even with the air conditioning in the truck blasting, it wasn’t exactly cool.

  Up ahead he saw the faded sign of Clancy’s Bar, a few dusty cars already littering the gravel parking lot. Emily straightened in her seat and peered at it as they rolled past. “What’s that place?”

  “Clancy’s, the local dive bar. Good crab legs, though.” He combed his fingers through his hair, feeling the sweat soaking his scalp.

  “Stop! Let’s go there – I need a drink.”

  He frowned. “Isn’t it a little early for a drink? Besides, I thought you wanted ice cream.”

  “No, it’s the perfect time for a drink, actually. Maybe I’ll see if they have some ice cream to float in it.” She laughed.

  He thought he heard an edge of hysteria in her voice, and didn’t want to be the one to send her over the edge. Whatever was on her mind, maybe she just needed a chance to cut loose a bit. “Okay – we’ll stop, then.” He pulled over to the side of the road, then U-turned and drove back to the bar.

  He parked the car, studying Emily’s face with concern. What was she so worked up about? He didn’t know her well yet, but he’d spent enough time with her to recognize when something was on her mind. Hazel said she was usually very calm, collected and driven, a surgeon who never let anything stand in the way of her success. So why was she still hanging around the ranch with no sign of leaving?

  He put on his hat, stepped out of the cab and hurried around to her side of the truck. She’d already opened the door by the time he reached it, but he took the handle and pulled it all the way open anyway. “Howdy, ma’am.” He touched his hat brim and grinned.

  She raised an eyebrow and frowned. “I’m perfectly capable of getting out of a truck on my own.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I know, but this is the South. Down here we’re expected to act like gentleman and treat ladies with deference. It’s not an insult, it’s a sign of respect.” He offered her his hand, and she hesitated but took it. As he helped her from the truck, he noticed she flinched when her tender ankle touched down, and she kept her hand in the crook of his arm as they walked up the stairs and into Clancy’s.

  When they were seated at a booth, Eamon set his hat on the table, reached for a bowl of peanuts and cracked one open as he scanned the room. It was almost empty, of course – it wasn’t even close to noon yet.

  He noticed Emily studying him intently. “I’m sorry,” she finally said, leaning back against the cushion behind her and crossing her arms. “I’m not used to men being gentlemen. Not just because I’m from up North, but because I’ve always worked hard, so the men I usually meet are colleagues. I also grew up in a Chinese-American household, and our culture is very different. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

  He nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate the apology, and the explanation. Seems society doesn’t want us men to be ourselves anymore. There’s little room left in the world for cowboys these days.”

  Her eyes softened and she leaned forward, setting her hands on the table near his. “Well, if you ask me, the world would be a better place if there were more cowboys in it.” She almost whispered the words and he felt his heart slam against his ribs.

  The waitress, a woman with a short black pageboy and a nose ring, sniffed beside them. She held a notebook in one hand, her pencil poised above it. “What can I getcha?”

  Eamon bit his lip. “Um … Coors in a bottle, please.”

  The woman turned to Emily with bored disdain. “And you?”

  Emily’s eyebrow arched. “Can I get a Beefeater martini?”

  Eamon shook his head, suppressing a grin. The waitress sighed heavily.

  Emily nodded. “Got it. I’ll have a Bud Light, then.”

  The woman turned without a word and disappeared toward the bar, where the bartender stood polishing empty glasses with a towel. “Well, she was a barrel of laughs,” said Eamon with a chuckle.

  “My goodness – imagine if I’d asked for a Cosmo or a Long Island iced tea.” Emily laughed – and in that moment she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her face lit up and the worry disappeared from behind her eyes.

  But by the time their drinks arrived, the anxiety was back, hooded behind a facade of cool. Eamon recognized it now – she couldn’t hide it from him, not anymore. He took a swig of beer, reached for her hand and held it as he watched as her cheeks flushed. He softly stroked the back of it with his fingertips, but she pulled away to grip the bottle in front of her. “What is it?” he asked. “What’s on your mind?”

  She sighed deeply and let her eyes drift shut for a moment. “It’s … ugh.”

  “What?”

  “I hate even talking about it. I feel like such a failure, and if I say it out loud, that’ll make it real. I don’t want it to be real.” She covered her eyes and rested her elbows on the table.

  “Now you’re making me nervous. What’s going on?”

  “You’ll think I’m overreacting.”

  He twisted the beer bottle around in front of him. “Just tell me.”

  “I was supposed to start my new job in a week – general surgeon at the Brigham and Women’s Hospital. But they gave the job to someone else – a department head’s son, actually. They told me it was mine, then suddenly it wasn’t, and I’d already turned down every other offer. So basically I’m unemployed.”

  She stopped, dropping her hands to the table and looking at him as if searching for some kind of confirmation of her failure.

  He frowned and leaned forward to take her hand again, this time more firmly. “That stinks. It really does. But it’s not the end of the world.” She tried to pull away again, but he didn’t let her. “No, really. Listen, it’s going to be okay. You’ll get through this, you’ll find another job, you’ll be fine.”

  “You don’t understand. By now, all the good jobs are taken – and my father … I haven’t even told him or Ma Ma yet – I just can’t deal with …” She groaned and squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh, I’m so screwed.”

  His heart ached for her. “Emily, look at me.” She did, and the hurt he saw in them made the ache grow. “You’re not a failure. Is it a setback? Yeah. But no one who ever succeeded at anything did it without some kind of setback along the way. Usually more than one. You can handle this.”

  She frowned. “Did something like this ever happen to you?”

  “Absolutely. I don’t think you can have a career in any field without somebody leading you on, giving you false hope or passing you over for a relative or friend. It happens all the time. What really matters isn’t what ha
ppens to you, but how you react to it. Leastways, that’s what my dad used to say. Remembering his words always seems to help when I’m feeling low about something like that.” He let his fingers wander over her hand, his own trembling at the contact.

  She made a face, seeming to consider his words. “You’re right. I can get through this, I’ll be fine. In fact – I can’t believe I was so upset over it. I mean, it hurts, don’t get me wrong, and I still dread telling my parents. But maybe this is my chance to take a break and reassess. And I need a break, you know? I’ve been working so hard for so long, I don’t even know what to do with myself. I mean, I’m going crazy after four days with nothing to do. That’s nuts, right?” She laughed and shook her head.

  He noted with concern that the hysteria was back. “That’s right. You sound like you could really use a rest – a vacation even. Maybe this is exactly what you need.”

  “Yes, I think so.” She seemed to be trying to convince herself.

  He sighed. At least he knew what had her so worked up. She’d done her best to hide it, but she was wound tight as an eight-day clock. “How about we finish our beers and go get that ice cream?” He drained his bottle, stood and threw a few bills on the table.

  She finished her drink and stood as well. “Ice cream sounds perfect.”

  Eamon looped his arm around her shoulders and together they walked back to the truck. But his mind was racing with what she’d just told him. He couldn’t help it – whenever someone he cared about was in trouble, he wanted to do something for them, wanted to make the problem go away. But this was one thing he knew he couldn’t fix.

  * * *

  Emily limped down the hallway, her stomach full of butter pecan ice cream. Eamon walked beside her, steadying her as pain shot up her leg with each step. They’d had a lovely time eating dessert downtown and soaking up air conditioning, and now she wanted to take a nap. She felt like she’d stepped into an alternate universe – drinking beer in the morning, eating ice cream for lunch, taking afternoon naps – and almost giggled at the thought. Who had she become?

  She stopped at the door to her room and leaned against the door frame. “Thanks for the beer … and the ice cream.”

  He nodded. “You’re welcome. Feel any better?”

  “Actually, I do. I’m almost relaxed … though it’s been so long, I’m not sure I recognize the feeling.” She laughed at her own joke and stepped back, awkwardly bumping into the wall. She felt like a nervous teenager. Would he kiss her again?

  He leaned closer, and she could feel the heat of his body against her skin, smell the beer on his breath.

  “Well, I guess I’ll see you later.”

  She nodded, her breath caught in her throat.

  He turned and walked back down the hall and out the front door.

  She exhaled and collapsed back against the wall. Why hadn’t he kissed her? He’d been holding her hand, caressing her arm and flirting with her all day long. Then he just walked away as though there was nothing between them.

  She’d never understand men.

  It was true, she hadn’t dated much, and usually grew bored with the men she saw after only a few dates. But Eamon was different. Instead of being tired of him, every moment she spent with him seemed only to intensify her feelings. It was unexpected and intoxicating. And she hadn’t thought about her job once since they left Clancy’s.

  Something had changed, and Emily was beginning to think that it had everything to do with a certain handsome cowboy.

  Chapter 6

  The HVAC unit looked like it was older than Eamon was. He sighed, lifted the lid from the unit and studied the engine, then reached for his tool belt. He didn’t really know what he was doing, but he wasn’t about to tell Parker or Emily that. A man had his pride.

  The afternoon sun beat down on his head, and he wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his gloved hand and squinted across the field behind the house. The horses were gathered beneath the few large shade trees on the other side, tails swishing at flies and heads hanging low. He grinned at the sight of them. Even when things got hard around the ranch, the beauty of the animals they cared for each day always brought a smile to his face.

  There was something so special, regal, about horses. He’d always loved them and couldn’t believe he now got to spend his time raising them on a ranch he owned with his brothers. It was more than he’d dreamed possible. Even though their first year together had been tough and margins were tight, he could see that before long they’d be on their way to profitability.

  He turned back to the task at hand, just as Parker appeared around the corner of the house. He knelt beside him and rested a hand on the engine with a frown. “How’s it going?”

  Eamon managed a sardonic smile. “Oh, great.”

  Parker laughed. “You have no idea what’s wrong with it, do you?”

  “I’m sure I can figure it out. After all, we can’t let Dalton think we couldn’t handle things, can we?” He peered into the open unit, examining various coils and wires.

  “No, we can’t. But maybe we could hire someone to help us out – you know, a professional?”

  “But where’s the fun in that?” Eamon chuckled. “Seriously, though, we might have to, but I’m hoping we can save the expense by doing it ourselves.”

  Parker nodded, then rubbed his face with a groan.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Eamon, one eyebrow up.

  “Nothing … it’s just … I’ve got to tell you something.”

  Eamon took a deep breath. It seemed everyone wanted to come clean to him today. “Yeah?”

  “Well, you know how I … I’m not sure how to say it.”

  Eamon sat and leaned his back against the HVAC unit, stretching his legs in front of him and crossing his feet at the ankles. “I’ve got all day. Take your time.”

  Parker half-smiled and sat beside him, sighed and let his eyes drift closed. Only now did Eamon see the large black circles beneath his eyes, and his chest ached at all his brother had likely been through but never spoken of. He’d been so excited about becoming an Army Ranger, but Rangers had to do and see things most people didn’t – and no person should have to.

  Parker’s eyes opened again and he focused on the herd in the distance, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ve decided to see a psychologist.” His voice was solemn.

  Eamon’s eyes followed his brother’s gaze, and he watched the horses laze beneath the shade trees, the younger ones nipping playfully at each other. “Oh yeah?”

  He’d wanted Parker to get help for whatever was bothering him for so long, he felt like cheering with relief. Instead he bit his tongue and waited for Parker to go on.

  “Yeah. It’s been hard, being back stateside. And the things we did … I need to talk to someone about it.”

  Eamon picked a blade of grass and rolled it between his fingers. “You can always talk to me.”

  “No, I can’t really, not yet. You and Dalton – you’re home to me, and I don’t want to bring that stuff home. Does that make sense?”

  Eamon nodded and took a long, slow breath. He wished he’d realized the reason for his brother’s reticence sooner. He’d been worried Parker didn’t feel comfortable enough with him to really talk, and it was a relief to know that wasn’t it. “It makes a lot of sense.”

  “So anyway, I called the VA this morning and made an appointment with her, the psychologist. And I think it’s going to be good … helpful. I don’t know if I’ll ever be back to normal, but she told me I can find a new normal, whatever that means.” Parker stood slowly and lifted his arms over his head with a yawn. “I haven’t been sleeping well since I got back. I really hope this’ll help with that, and some other things …”

  Eamon stood as well, put his hands on his hips and faced his brother. “I’m glad you’re doing this, Parker. You’ve got your whole future ahead of you and I’m on your side. So’s Dalton. We both just want to see you happy again. I hope you know that.” He grinned.
“We miss that high-pitched girly laugh of yours.”

  Parker did laugh then, and Eamon caught a momentary glimpse of the brother he used to know. The sight made his eyes water. Parker stepped over and threw his arms around him, thumping him on the back with one fist. “Thanks, bro.”

  Eamon returned the bear hug, his throat tightening. “Anytime.”

  Parker headed toward the house, but before he turned the corner, he glanced back over his shoulder. “Beer on the porch tonight?”

  “You got it.”

  Eamon watched him leave, his head spinning. He loved his brothers more than anyone else in the world – except Mom, of course. Seeing Parker struggle had been difficult for him, and he knew Dalton felt the same way. They’d often talked about it, especially when Parker retreated to his room for hours on end or was particularly morose. They’d both wished he’d open up to them, but hadn’t wanted to push the subject, afraid he might not take it well. They weren’t sure just how precarious a place he was in emotionally.

  Eamon smiled to himself and turned back to the HVAC unit, frowning as he squatted beside it. Now if he could just figure out how to fix that contraption, his day would be complete.

  * * *

  Emily tugged on the end of the stick. Harley tugged back, sitting on his haunches, his eyes gleaming. She laughed and pulled again, but, tail wagging, he shook his head, yanking the stick from her grasp. Happy with his victory, he trotted off toward the barn with his prize between his teeth. “Hey, you cheated!” complained Emily, setting her hands on her hips and chuckling as the dog disappeared around the outside of the building.

  She’d always loved dogs but had almost forgotten after living of years in condos and apartments and working such long hours. Spending time with Harley these last few days had reminded her. When she was a girl, her parents had brought home a cocker spaniel she’d named Goldie, and she’d enjoyed feeding her, grooming her and taking her for walks down the streets of their neighborhood. She’d loved that dog.

  Maybe she should get a dog. She didn’t know where she’d be working or living yet, but wherever she settled she could surely find space for a small one. They brought her so much joy, and she was sick of living alone – it was too quiet. She hadn’t spent much time at home in recent years, so it hadn’t really mattered. But she hoped now that she’d finished her residency, perhaps she’d find a job that gave her more time off, and maybe she could manage a pet. And a roommate. Perhaps even a social life. She shook her head and laughed as she walked toward the barn.