Free A Town Called Valentine: A Valentine Valley Novel by Emma Cane

she didn’t,” Nate said patiently. “She sensibly asked me if I’d like to take our relationship deeper, and I regretfully said no. No tears, no recriminations.” Ashlee and all the others like her were safe from him—he knew when to stop himself from getting too involved, saw the warning signs a mile away—except where Emily was concerned.
    “She knew the score, like every woman in Valentine Valley.” Brooke glanced over her shoulder as if she could still see Emily. “But this woman’s new. Someone will have to explain how it all works to her. You can’t trust Grandma Thalberg for that. If it were up to her, we’d each be married already.”
    “Married?” He smiled. “You have a barrel-racing career to advance.”
    She snorted. “You know I’ll be lucky to win at our rodeo, let alone take my meager talents on the road.”
    With a laugh, he said, “Don’t worry about Emily. She doesn’t seem to be the tenderhearted sort. She’s fixed on repairing her property, selling it, and leaving.”
    “Your ideal woman.”
    “Will you stop it?” he demanded with exasperation. “You can find out the truth all by yourself the next time you see Monica Shaw. As I was leaving yesterday, I saw her curious face peering out at me. You can bet she’s hightailed it next door already.”
    Brooke’s face lighted up at the mention of her best friend. “Then I know who I have to visit today.”
    “We’re going out to inspect the irrigation ditches at Cooper’s Mine. Dad and Josh are waiting for us up at the barn. I think we have some holes that need plugging. That could take all day.”
    “Don’t worry, I’ll bring my hip boots. That’ll help me wade through the bullshit you always spout.”
    With a tap of his bootheels, he had his mount dancing up against hers, and laughing, they took off at a gallop for the barn, Scout chasing them with eager excitement.
    The Silver Creek Ranch was a sprawling complex of a half dozen buildings beside the main house on its thousand acres. They even had a bunkhouse for use mostly during calving and branding season, when neighbors and extra help could stay the night. The ranch was a family business, manned by Nate and his parents and siblings. They had been self-sufficient for generations, and proud of it.
    But the last thirty years or so, things had changed in the Roaring Fork Valley, as skyrocketing land prices made selling out family ranches far too easy to do. But the Thalbergs stood for tradition in Valentine, and Doug Thalberg had wanted to do what his father and grandfathers before him had done, run cattle.
    And Nate had been able to continue his father’s family traditions, with a little smart investing, and he’d never been prouder. And it hadn’t taken anything away from the job he did day to day on the ranch—he made certain of that.
    Josh and their dad were just leading a saddled horse out of the barn. Ducks quacked and scattered out of the way, heading back to the pond. Josh would be driving the ATV in case they needed extra supplies quickly. Doug Thalberg squinted out over his land with the narrowed, gray-eyed gaze of a man who knew the worth of what he did. He had the same brown hair as Brooke and Josh, but his was going gray, along with his mustache.
    Josh, as usual, looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, rumpled and unshaven, but always alert and ready for whatever the weather and the ranch would bring that day. His eyes, so similar to their father’s, saw the world kindly, but lately he’d been focusing too sharply—needlessly—on Nate.
    “Nate, did you get word about the part for the swather?” his dad asked, all business. “The hay won’t cut itself.”
    “And the cattle won’t feed themselves this winter,” Brooke added, grinning at their father’s oft-repeated phrases.
    Josh smiled at their sister.
    “He just called,” Nate said. “I’ll head to the office and call him back right now. You all go on ahead, and I’ll meet up with