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Grab my new series, "Hearts of the Untamed West", and get 2 FREE novels as a gift! Have a look here!Chapter One
“This is the best cowboy’s casserole I’ve ever had! I don’t know where she is, but the chef oughta know that!”
Emily smiled and rested her hands on the edge of the sink basin, taking a moment to silently accept the compliment. She desperately wanted to call out a “thank you” to the men on the other side of the wall, filling the small dining hall with their hooting and hollering, but she knew she’d hear about it from her father if she did.
As a child, she’d been briefly allowed to mingle, laugh, and play with the ranch hands. It was a ranch hand who’d taught her to ride a horse and milk a cow in the first place. Another of the cowboys had taken it upon himself to teach her how to read. He felt badly that she wasn’t being sent to school like all the other children.
At the age of thirteen or so, however, everything changed. The men looked at her differently, and her father took notice before she did. From then on, she was kept far away from the boys. Ten years had since passed. Ten lonely years, but Emily wasn’t the complaining type.
She yawned and wiped a bit of grease from her brow before pushing her sleeves up again and getting back to work, but the sight of a ladybug crawling up the wall beside the basin stopped her for a moment.
“Hello, little lady,” she whispered, moving closer to get a better look. “What are you doing in here when you could be outside, seeing the wonders of the wide world? I promise there’s nothing very interesting here. If you aren’t careful, someone’s going to squish you!”
She stared intently at the pretty color of the bug’s outer shell, awed at what God was capable of creating. It was funny to think that that little creature had seen more of Bellevue than she ever had, yet Emily had certainly lived a much longer life.
“Who are you talking to?” her father asked, the back door slamming behind him.
Emily flinched a little, then laughed, not wanting him to know how much he scared her. At over six feet tall, Maxwell Jones towered over her modest height. She’d inherited all her mother’s physical traits, including her slim shoulders and unruly brown curls, which Maxwell seemed to think made her an unruly woman, despite all her attempts to submit to his rules.
For her part, Emily had no idea just how similar or dissimilar she was to her mother, seeing as she had passed away while giving birth to her. Emily had never known a maternal figure in her life and had barely even spent a few hours in the company of another woman. Everything she knew about femininity was what she’d learned secondhand from her father, and she had no choice but to take his word for it.
“Oh, no one. Just the ladybug on the wall. It’s silly, but sometimes I think—”
“I’m sending some of the boys into town for supplies later today. Do you have a list?” he asked gruffly, uninterested in her musings.
“Right, yes, well, I’ve started one, but I’ll make sure I finish it soon. I can leave the dishes till after breakfast if you need it straight away,” she replied, wiping the excess water from her hands onto her stained apron and moving to the table where her paper and pencil sat.
“The sooner, the better, yes.”
“Who should I give it to when I’m done? I mean…who are you sending into town?” Emily asked nervously. She knew it was a dangerous question. From her father’s point of view, he would probably be more comfortable with her, never even acknowledging there was anyone else on the ranch besides the two of them.
He grimaced, his white mustache folding down in a frown that completely covered his mouth, making the lower half of his face look like a snowdrift.
“You don’t have to bother yourself with that. I’ll come back for your list.”
She nodded, knowing not to push her luck. Once, three years earlier, she’d suggested that she go herself to fetch supplies in town. She was still haunted by the anger that had flared up in her father’s eyes upon hearing the suggestion. Her place was on the ranch, and more specifically, in the kitchen.
Of course, she was allowed to go to the chicken coop before dawn to collect the eggs, venturing back in the afternoon to feed the birds when all the men were out on the range. On special occasions, she could go to the smokehouse. Even the vegetable garden was strategically built to be behind the dining hall and rarely in view of any of the ranch hands.
She was not to be seen or heard but only provide the fifteen or so cowboys with enough sustenance to get their work done, like some kind of invisible food angel.
It was all for her own safety, of course, though over the years, Emily was beginning to question whether or not safety was something to be so highly valued after all.
“Alright then. I was thinking of making an apple crumble this afternoon. The first batch of the season is ripe, and I thought it might be a good way to celebrate,” Emily said cheerily. She was continually combatting her father’s grumpiness with a charm offensive.
“That’s fine, but the more you can preserve, the better. It’s going to be a long drive this season. Longer than usual. I’ll be back in an hour or so for the list of whatever you need. Thank you for breakfast,” he added as an afterthought before heading out the door again. It was more of an acknowledgment than she was used to.
The heat of summer was still strong, but August always brought the anticipation and dread of fall, the harvest, and the annual cattle drive. For a few long weeks in October, almost all the cowboys would leave the Black Dog Ranch, traveling over the plains and hills until they got either to a railhead or trading hub. The journey would be long, dangerous, and arduous, but for Emily, it meant a small breath of fresh air.
As long as most of the men were gone, she had almost free range over the ranch. For a brief few weeks, her father would be unable to hover over her shoulder, and she’d be able to go to town and run with the dogs to her heart’s content.
The weeks leading up to the drive were always hectic, demanding a lot of extra work from Emily, and indeed, everyone on the ranch. Fruit and vegetables had to be canned for the journey. Everything needed to be prepared for the cook who would be running the chuckwagon that traveled along with the herd.
Maxwell, of course, highly disapproved of the idea of Emily going on the road with them, so a new cook was hired every year to go on the drive. It was the one piece of ranch life she never minded being left out of. As much as she yearned to see the world for herself, the relative independence she was left with was priceless, despite the promise of the upcoming winter around the corner.
“Ten pounds of beans, ten pounds of macaroni, five pounds of sugar, ten pounds of flour…salt?” she asked herself, moving around the kitchen to see what might be needed from the general store.
“Still talking to yourself, I see? Even after all these years.”
Emily flinched again to hear the voice of a man that definitely did not belong to her father. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she thought to herself that she needed to attach a bell to the door. It was too quiet and liable to get her in trouble.
The louder part of her mind, however, was jumping for joy. She knew the sound of that baritone like the back of her hand.
“Lucas!” she cried out, turning to see the face attached to the voice. Emily jumped up and leaped toward the door but stopped abruptly before reaching him. Getting caught hugging a friend she hadn’t heard from in ages would practically be a death sentence for both of them.
“That’s my name. Can’t deny it. It’s been, what? Three years, Emily? You barely look an inch different,” Lucas said. Emily appreciated that he refrained from teasing her skittishness.
“And you look…” she started excitedly, wanting to return the compliment, but her honesty got the better of her. It wasn’t that he looked bad. No, he was just as handsome as he had been when he’d been working on the ranch, and she’d stolen every glance at him she could.
Something had changed, however. His boyish cheeks had made way for a chiseled jaw, now covered in a layer of jet-black stubble. His shoulders were filled in, and there was a darkness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. In short, he looked like a man, and the Lucas Taylor that had left the Black Dog Ranch three years earlier had most certainly been a boy.
“Grizzled, I know. Don’t let the scar scare you. Had a run-in with a bull, but you should’ve seen how he turned out.” Lucas chuckled deeply, and Emily felt his voice vibrate in her chest.
He gestured to a large scar running across his cheek that she genuinely hadn’t noticed before. Clearly, he’d lived a life since leaving the ranch.
“No, not grizzled. Experienced,” she replied diplomatically. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him the real truth: that he looked more handsome than anyone she’d ever laid eyes on.
“Well, that’s an understatement at this point.”
“What have you been doing all these years? Didn’t you say you were going to California? What was it like? What are you doing back here?” The questions exploded out of Emily, her excitement compounded by just how long it had been since she’d talked to anyone besides her father.
“Didn’t make it to California. You know how it goes. Learned a lot, though. Couldn’t stay away from Iowa for too long. There’s nothing like the rolling hills of Bellevue.”
“You just came back because you missed it here?” Emily asked incredulously. She didn’t mean to sound so dismissive. Bellevue was a pretty enough place. The Mississippi curved beautifully through the rolling hills surrounding the town.
Other than that, however, it was just a small town that ranchers came to occasionally for supplies, and outlaws ran through on their way to Chicago. Politically, the same two groups of men had been fighting for mayoral power for as long as anyone could remember, getting all worked up over a population that could fit into one chapel if need be.
Lucas shrugged, his worn coat moving up with his shoulders. The brown leather looked so soft that Emily wanted to reach out and touch it, but she would never allow herself to actually do so.
“There are worse places out there, I’ll tell you that much. Jackson County has a lot going for it. It’s home, and I’m glad to be back.”
“So you’ll be staying? Are you coming back to work at the Black Dog?” Emily asked, unable to keep the hope and elation from her voice.
“No, no, I’m just…visiting on some business. Speaking of, do you know where your father is? There’s something I’d like to talk to him about.”
“I’m sure he’s not far. He was just here. Maybe check the corral. I don’t think he’s going out with the herd today. Someone’s going into town for supplies, but I’m the wrong person to ask. Hardly anyone tells me anything.”
Lucas nodded knowingly. For the first time, she noticed the Stetson hat in his hands, the same one he used to wear when he worked at the Black Dog. It looked weathered, reflecting just how far Lucas had come and gone. It was hard to take in the rest of him when his deep brown eyes were like a magnet to hers. A look of pity crossed his face, and Emily cringed a little. She didn’t mind feeling plenty sorry for herself, but she hated seeing it come from others.
“Mr. Maxwell Jones still keeping you under his thumb as best he can?”
Emily bit her lip and nodded, wishing she could deflect somehow. She couldn’t think of a single thing to say. On the good days, she was happy to keep herself company and found great joy in the cooking she did. The hours were filled with delicious smells, and she was kept busy enough with supply lists, weekly meal plans, seasonal canning, and fun ideas for special occasions that sometimes she forgot just how lonely she really was.
On the not-so-good days, however, she was filled with jealousy. She was envious that the horses could fill their lungs with more fresh air than she could, that the ranch hands could move about as they pleased, and that there were other young women in town who got to wear what they wanted, talk to whoever they wanted, and say exactly what was on their minds. She’d heard of women who’d run away from home or who hadn’t a home in the first place, learned a skill like sharpshooting or photography, and never looked back.
She’d even heard tell of women who did the same work ranchers did, wearing slacks and leather chaps with their hair running down their back in one long braid. Her father always made sure she wore hers up and pinned back, almost afraid of what might happen if one of her auburn curls got loose.
“The world’s a scary place anyway. I have everything I need right here,” she said with a forced smile, knowing the sadness in her eyes was betraying her.
“I agree with half of that. There’s a lot of beauty out there, too. I hate that you don’t get to see any of that,” Lucas replied softly.
His pity was too much for her to handle. She wanted him to see her as an equal, not like a motherless little girl who didn’t know poker from blackjack. As innocent as her father wanted to keep her, she’d still spent her entire life at the Black Dog surrounded by foul-mouthed and world-weary men. She’d been taught how to use a rifle and a pistol and could probably keep ten men alive for ten days with what she was able to forage in the woods alone. Emily Jones was no shrinking violet.
“You should go. Father won’t like it if he finds you in here, old friend or not. It’s nice to know…nice to know you might be around more,” she added, not wanting him to think she was mad at him or anything.
He flashed her his trademark sideways smile, his left cheek pushing up into a dimple that was seared into Emily’s memory.
“I’ll come to say goodbye before I leave. If I get the chance. If I don’t get the chance, then…keep smiling. Oh, and I’m sure it goes without saying, but it smells amazing in here, Em. No one bakes a loaf of bread like you do.”
Her stomach flipped to hear him use the shortened version of her name. In an instant, she felt closer to him than she felt to anyone else in the whole world, including her own father. Everything in her body urged her to step forward and stop him from leaving, maybe even beg him to take her with him wherever he was going.
Maxwell’s voice in her mind was too loud to ignore, however. She knew her place, and it was right there in this very kitchen. Lucas might even be just a figment of her imagination. No one ever came to visit her at the Black Dog.
Lucas put his hat back on and gave her a quick nod before disappearing out the back door again. Emily stood there staring at the light wood of the pine door, blankly staring at the knots and imperfections, trying to decide whether Lucas Taylor had really just been standing there only moments before, or if her imagination had simply gotten the best of her.
Seeing his face again reawaked a side of herself she’d thought she’d put to bed the minute he’d left the Black Dog. When Lucas had been working there, just one look out of the corner of his eye had her imagining walking down the aisle toward him. He was the only person who made her consider a future for herself, a future that might take place away from the Black Dog.
At twenty-three, she was still relatively young, but most girls her age were already married or, at the very least, being courted. Spinsterhood was merely a few years away, but it seemed almost inevitable. Her father rarely mentioned the issue of her future marriage, making her think that it might never happen.
In a sense, it was a relief. Better to not marry at all than to marry someone she didn’t love. Sometimes, though, she got worried that one day, when she least expected it, her father would come home with some strange man twice her age and introduce him as her future husband. Just like everything else in her life, she doubted she’d get a say in the matter.
A flash of movement from outside the window to her right finally made her move, her knees stiff from standing still for so long. Outside by the corral, it seemed Lucas had found her father. She watched as they shook hands. It was hard to tell from so far away, but she could have sworn her father was smiling.
There had been a time when Lucas had been the son he’d never had. Maxwell had taken the younger man under his wing like he had no other ranch hand. Lucas had left so abruptly, that Emily always wondered if they’d gotten into some kind of argument. All she knew was that he was there one day and gone the next.
And now he was back.
Chapter Two
“It’s great to hear you’re breaking out on your own, Lucas. High time, high time. You were always meant to be a rancher. I don’t know what you were doing, running off to California. You’re not a gold man. You’re a cowboy,” Maxwell huffed, his breathing still heavy from riding.
“I know, I know. You always told me that, and I’m finally listening,” Lucas replied. What he didn’t say out loud was that Maxwell was the reason he’d left in the first place. Part of it, anyway.
Lucas hated the way Maxwell treated Emily. As much as he respected that the man had built everything from scratch, he didn’t think it excused the way he hid his daughter away from the world. The Black Dog was one of the biggest ranches in the area. Other ranch owners’ daughters went to barn dances and tearooms, not to mention school. The Jones name was well-respected in the area, and the fact that his daughter was not only kept behind closed doors but treated like any other employee was shocking to Lucas.
It seemed to him that Maxwell was terrified of what might happen if Emily lived a life of her own. Of course, that wasn’t the only reason he’d left the Black Dog Ranch, but he didn’t like to think about the other reasons and what they’d led to.
“Well, you know the basics. Get your main cabin up and running first. Then, the barn and bunkhouse. Get your cattle up and breeding so that you have a proper herd by next fall, and then you can start paying back the hefty loan I’m sure you’ve taken out. I’m impressed you were able to get the funding together to start your own ranch. Not a lot of men in your position can do that,” Maxwell said, nodding his head in deference.
“I learned from the best,” Lucas replied, not bothering to mention just how tenuous his situation was. He didn’t have a loan. He’d made a small fortune doing something he didn’t like to talk about, but there was no room for error. If his herd got sick or a pack of wolves found them, then it would be over.
Starting this ranch meant relying on his own survival skills but also the generosity of others. There would be times when he wouldn’t be able to pay anything but room and board, and for a long while “room” would mean tents. The plot of land he’d secured for himself further west was good range land, but the only building on it was a small cabin that barely fit one person standing up.
Settling land and raising a herd was probably not the easiest way Lucas could use his newfound money. Many had tried to talk him into investing in the railroad or getting into shipping. None of that felt right to Lucas. He was a man of the earth, and he wanted to live his life by that. Ranching had set him free once, years ago, and now it would again.
“Well, feel free to go through the barns and take any of the old equipment. Ask Bill to point out everything we don’t use anymore. Can’t say any of it works very well, but I know what it’s like to start out. You’ll need all the help you can get.” Maxwell reached over and gave Lucas’ shoulder a good pat.
It was only then that Lucas realized he was taller than the old man. He’d never felt anything but shorter than him, but time had changed things. Maybe Lucas was standing straighter these days, or maybe Maxwell had been pulled down somewhat.
“You can say that again. I’ll reach some kind of a number with Bill, too, and leave you the cash. It’s the least I can do.”
“Don’t worry about that. It’s all stuff we won’t be using anyway. Why hoard it? It’s important to be generous when you can, and that’s something I try to live up to, especially for old friends like you. So, where is this piece of land you’ve got yourself?”
Lucas held his breath. He hadn’t thought about the fact that showing his face at the Black Dog again would be answering so many questions. There was a lot that Lucas wasn’t ready to talk about yet…some things that would even be considered dangerous, not only for himself but for anyone he told.
“Out uh, right here in Jackson County. East of Maquoketa,” he lied, trying to think fast.
Maxwell’s eyes narrowed. “Out by the Driscoll farm?”
“Um, yes, yes, but further east. You’ll have to come out sometime. Once it’s all set up. Might take a while. Come for dinner in the spring,” he added with a chuckle. Maxwell joined in, laughing a little too hard for Lucas’ liking. Was it really so unrealistic to think he’d have the ranch up and running by May?
“Nothing quite like making plans many, many months in advance. Well, as I’m sure you can imagine, we’ve got a lot of work to do here. Make yourself at home and stay for lunch if you want. Emily’s cooking up some kind of meat on a bun and sending it up on the range with us. Apple crumble, too, but that probably won’t be ready till tonight.”
It took all the strength Lucas had not to ask about Emily. Seeing her again had set something off in him. She’d been on his mind almost every day for the past three years that he’d been gone, but part of him thought maybe he’d been glorifying the memory of her in his mind.
He hadn’t. She was just as beautiful as he’d remembered, with her curls piled high on her head and that cute button nose. Her wide blue eyes looking up at his with complete openness made him want to grab her hand and show her the world. The fact that she was such a good cook didn’t hurt. He’d spent many a long night on the road dreaming of Emily’s cornbread.
Not only could he not bring himself to ask Maxwell about how Emily was doing, but the truth was that he hadn’t come to beg for old equipment at all, let alone advice. He’d come back to the Black Dog in the hopes of convincing Emily to leave with him.
It was not a request he was making lightly, and he still wasn’t even sure he’d go through with it. When he thought of who he wanted to start his ranch with, however, she was the first name on his list. Her cooking would make any ranch hand forget about the rough conditions, and her smile would bring joy to the difficult moments.
He wasn’t just thinking of his own benefit, of course. Running away to work on his ranch would mean freedom for Emily. He wanted it to be a chance for her to see the world outside of the Black Dog, and an opportunity to meet new people. She deserved to live a real life, and he thought he could be the person to make that happen for her.
Lucas thanked Maxwell again for his generosity, simultaneously pushing away a pang of guilt. He wasn’t taking advantage of Maxwell. No, he was simply making things right. Besides, Lucas had committed far worse crimes than taking a few bits of old equipment (with permission, that he fully intended on paying for regardless) and freeing a woman from her invisible bonds.
He stared at the cookout cabin, wondering what delicious concoction Emily was putting together at that very moment. He thought he saw her looking out the window, but it was too far away to tell. The pull to go see her again was strong, but he knew Maxwell was watching. If he was going to ask her to run away with him after all, he was going to have to stumble upon just the right opportunity.
“Well, if it isn’t Lucas Taylor, as I live and breathe. What are you doing here?” Bill asked as Lucas came up to the main barn. It was almost like Bill hadn’t moved since the moment Lucas had left the Black Dog Ranch, standing with one foot leaning on the fence, a sprig of sweetgrass dangling out of his mouth, and his wide-brimmed hat slung low on his head, making only one eye visible.
“Couldn’t stay away from you forever, Bill,” Lucas replied. The old friends shook hands, and Lucas remembered why he wanted to start his own ranch in the first place. The companionship that came along with it was unlike anything else he’d ever experienced.
“You moving back into the bunkhouse?”
“No, no, I’m…I’m starting my own ranch. Not too far from here. Mr. Jones said I could buy some old equipment from you. Saddles and so forth. Whatever you can spare, really.”
Bill looked at him skeptically. “He’s not really making you pay for that old junk, is he?”
“He refused my money at first, but, you know, he can’t stop me from leaving something.” Or taking something else, Lucas thought to himself.
“We’ll see about that. Let’s go take a look around, and you can fill me in on everything you’ve been up to.” Bill led the way into the barn, giving a wave to Maxwell and the rest of the cowboys heading out to the range with the herd. A weight lifted off Lucas’ shoulders to see Maxwell riding away. He could only imagine how Emily felt during the rare moments when she could move freely without fear of his watchful eye.
“Oh, I haven’t been up to anything too interesting,” Lucas lied. “That’s why I’ve come back to ranching. Nothing better out there. How have things been here? The men all getting along?”
“Well, you know. Sam and Gary are at each other’s throats all the time, but as soon as you get a bit of whiskey in them, they’re the best of friends. Hand them a guitar, and they’ll be singing about the cattle drives of yore in seconds. Sometimes it’s annoying, but most of the time it gives us something to watch.”
The light changed as they walked into the barn, the morning sun shining through the slats in the roof. It was an impeccably organized place, and Lucas was pleased to see that the system he’d first set up was still being used. Clearly, he’d made an impact on the place.
“That’s Sam and Gary for you. And, uh, how’s Emily?” he dared to ask.
Bill huffed dismissively. “How should I know? She’s like a ghost. Haunting us with incredible food. Sometime last year, one of the new boys tried to thank her after dinner, and Maxwell sent him packing the next day. I don’t know. I feel sorry for the girl, but what can you do? Sometimes, when Maxwell isn’t around, we give her a round of applause and just hope she can hear it.”
Lucas’ heart stung to hear the truth, even though it was exactly what he’d been expecting to hear. Nothing had changed, and Maxwell was still letting his daughter waste away over a fire, cooking for people she never even got to talk to.
“I gotta say, I’m surprised to see you’re not married,” Bill said, giving Lucas the once over. “A mug like yours must have the ladies crawling all over you.”
“You know as well as I do that the ranching life doesn’t appeal to most. It takes a special kind of lady to put up with those early mornings and weeks apart. You ever consider it yourself?” Lucas asked, turning the question back on his old friend.
“Funny you should ask. Turns out Mrs. Thomas isn’t Mrs. Thomas anymore. Well, she is, but her old man passed away about a year ago. I’ve been screwing up the courage ever since then to see if she’d wanna make another go of it. Like you say, ranching isn’t for everyone. She’d have to get used to my creaking knees and foul mouth.”
“She’d be lucky to have a man like you. I say go for it. There’s no harm in walking her to church one day.” Lucas nudged Bill’s elbow teasingly. He missed this kind of talk.
The conversation turned to the equipment in front of them as Bill walked Lucas through everything he was free to take. Old canteens, piggin sticks, and more saddle blankets than he could carry himself. Bill helped him load it all up into the wagon he’d brought and made sure his horse got a good lunch of oats.
“Sure you don’t want to ride out to the range and have lunch with the boys? I heard they’re sending up brazed pork sandwiches. Would be a nice ride out, too. Everyone will be sorry to have missed you,” Bill said when all the so-called business that Lucas could think of was said and done.
Lucas shook his head. “No, no. That’s alright. I’ve gotta get to town and start rounding up some men. Do you know anyone who might want to jump ship, possibly forgo pay for a few weeks while I get everything up and running?”
Bill laughed. Nothing about that was a tempting offer. “If I was worried about you poaching our men, I’m not anymore. Good luck out there. If you need anything down the line, you know where to find us.”
They shook hands, and Bill backed up for Lucas to climb up into the wagon. As soon as his first foot was in place, Lucas’ heart started beating fast. Every part of him felt like leaving without Emily was a mistake, but was he just being selfish?
The truth was that he was being coy with not just Maxwell, but also Bill. His plans to start a ranch were a lot further along than he was letting on. He already had five men staying in the Bellevue hotel, all paid through till the next week, waiting for him to come back with the woman he promised would soon be their cook.
He’d been so confident that Emily would come with him, but now that the time had actually come to talk her into it, he could see two outcomes just as clearly as the other. In one scenario, of course, she’d jump at the chance to set herself free. In the other, however, his request would come across as arrogant and presumptuous. The thought of Emily thinking ill of him was more painful than he’d first imagined it would be.
“You forget something?” Bill asked, responding to Lucas’ strange, frozen position.
“Yes, I…I think I might have. I forgot something in…in the kitchen. Don’t let me keep you, Bill. I’m sure you have work to get back to.”
Lucas didn’t wait for Bill to say anything but instead started running back to where he knew Emily would still be hard at work, peeling apples or switching out the loaves of bread in the stone ovens for trays of buns. He didn’t even turn around when Bill shouted something after him. The older cowboy was a man to be trusted. It was obvious Lucas was going to see Emily, but he didn’t worry for a second that Bill would go tell Maxwell. They’d been through too much together over the years working at the Black Dog Ranch.
Though he was accustomed to running (mostly away from enemies giving him chase), Lucas found that this sprint left him more winded than most. There was more at stake on the other side of this one. The future of his ranch hung in the balance, but more importantly, the future of Emily’s happiness…not to mention his own.
When he burst in through the back door of the kitchen, Emily’s face was lit up with the same charmingly surprised look that she’d had when he’d first come through earlier that very day. Normally, he could be suave and easily charismatic around her, but suddenly, his nerves were taking over.
“Lucas! You came back. Are you leaving soon? Would you like something to eat before you go?” Emily’s speaking pace got faster as she went, her nerves showing almost as much as his were.
“No, no, I…” he trailed off and cleared his throat, unsure how to continue.
“Are you alright? Has something happened?” she asked, stepping closer to him. She smelled like cinnamon.
“I’m starting my own ranch. West of here. Two day’s ride away. I have five men hired already. Good cowboys, even if their pasts are…less than clean. They want to become better men, like I do. This is a fresh start for us. I have enough savings to get us through the season until we can start making sales.”
“Lucas! That’s wonderful news! Congratulations. I’m sure you’ll build a successful ranch in no time. You deserve it. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” She cocked her head to the side, her eyes full of curiosity.
“I don’t know. I was nervous.”
“Nervous? Why? You know I’d only be supportive of all your endeavors, whatever they may be.”
He gulped, gave his jaw a quick squeeze, and worked up the courage to just say what he’d come to say. Too much depended on it, and he’d feel like too much of a failure if he walked away without just asking.
“I’m nervous because…because there’s something I wanted to ask you. I’ve got two wranglers, a breeder, a trainer, and a builder, but I’m missing something. I’m missing a cook. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy. There won’t be anything glamorous about it, and I’m sure you get more sleep here at the Black Dog, but…”
Emily’s mouth fell open, and Lucas’ heart skipped a beat.
“Are you…are you asking me to be your cook?”
“Honestly, I think you should be the woman of the house who entertains potential business partners and organizes events in town. I think you should get to travel and see the sights and only cook when you want to. I wish I could offer you that, but until I can…yes, Emily Jones, I’m asking if you’d be willing to come cook for me and my men.”
The proposal lingered in the air, and Lucas held his breath while he waited for Emily to do or say something. It was impossible to tell how much time passed in silence between them. The moment felt suspended like they were both standing at the edge of a cliff and trying to decide whether or not to jump into the water below together. She stared into his eyes, and he wished he could communicate without words that he would do whatever it took to protect and provide for her.
“I can’t leave with you now,” she finally said, allowing Lucas to finally let out the breath he’d been holding.
“I understand. It was a big ask, and—”
“But I think…if I can make a run for it in the middle of the night, I could meet you in town and leave from there. Not tonight, but tomorrow night. I need some time to get myself together.”
It was Lucas’ turn to let his jaw hang in surprise. Had she really just said yes? Was it possible that his wild plan, held together with strips of leather, a dream, and a promise, was just about to get a little bit stronger?
“You mean it? You really want to come to start a ranch with me?”
She shrugged and let out a slightly crazed laugh as if even she wasn’t sure why she was agreeing to it.
“I’m miserable here. As much as I try to claw out little bits of joy during my days, and I truly love cooking…it’s not enough. I want to see the faces of the people I’m feeding. I want to talk freely and see the world without fear of my father shaming me for my openness. I want to live, Lucas, and as dangerous as this might be…it might also be my only chance.”
“Well, that’s…that’s incredible news! Welcome to the band, Emily,” Lucas said, stepping closer to her and holding out his hand to shake hers.
She took his calloused and worn hand in hers, and a delicious shiver ran through him. This was a moment he would never forget. The way her soft, flour-covered fingers felt in his reminded him of home. With her by his side, he felt more confident than ever that he could build something real.
“You didn’t think I’d say yes, did you?” she asked teasingly.
“I had my doubts. I wasn’t sure just how much your father…how much his influence hung over you. I’m glad to see you’ve got some kick in you.”
“I think we’re about to find out just how much kick. I can’t believe that I said yes! Did I really just agree to run away with a bunch of strange men and blow up my entire life without even a single stick of dynamite?” Her eyes were wild, the golden light flickering in them and telling a thousand different stories. She was terrified, but also brimming with excitement for the first time in her life.
Looking at her just then, Lucas felt a tremendous amount of responsibility for her. He had the chance to show her just how amazing the world could be and what she was capable of building with her own two hands. If he wasn’t careful, however, he might have just talked her into signing up for her own ruin.
“Yes, yes you did, but I promise, I’m the right horse to hitch your wagon to. We’re gonna make something beautiful together, Emily. My life is staked on this, too, so you know I’m going to work harder than I ever have before. Tell me what you need to get away tomorrow night,” he said, getting them back to the subject of logistics. The more they discussed plans to get Emily off the Black Dog, the more real this crazy dream of his seemed to become.
“I, uh, I don’t know. I don’t think I need anything. I’ll pack up some things today and hide them for tomorrow night. I can saddle up my horse earlier in the day when everyone’s out on the range and hide her somewhere by the road. I can’t risk going to the barn late at night. Kelly’s always stationed out there to keep a lookout for wolves trying to get into the chicken coop, and I know from experience that he never falls asleep on the job. I should make a list!” she exclaimed, rushing over to the table.
Just as she sat down and picked up her pencil, Emily stood up again abruptly, panic written all over her face.
“I can’t write anything down. Any evidence could be dangerous. I’ll just commit the list to memory. What will I need?”
Lucas pulled out the chair for her again and gestured for them both to sit down. His stomach was rolling with anxiety, too, but he felt the need to put on his bravest face for her.
“You’ll need a good knife.”
“A good knife,” she repeated, closing her eyes and nodding.
“Don’t worry about cookware. We can buy a set of pots and pans in town somewhere. I’m already taking enough from your father. A canteen, if you have one. The warmest clothes you can find. Do you have a pommel slicker?”
“Not personally, but I can find one. A blanket roll, I assume?”
“Yes, that would be helpful.”
“I don’t have a single dollar to my name, Lucas,” she whispered as if she was admitting a terrible secret.
“That’s alright. I have enough for now. I’m going to take care of everything. Even if you can only get away with the clothes on your back and the horse underneath you, we’ll figure it out. The important thing is that your father doesn’t catch on or come after you.”
Emily’s face went dark, and Lucas regretted bringing up the subject of her father. It was hanging in the air over them, but voicing the fear made it all the more real.
“Honestly, I’m not too worried he’ll chase me. He only wants me around for what I can do for him and nothing else. To him, I represent the reason his wife died twenty-three years ago. I’m sure he’d be glad to be rid of me. Maybe it would be different if I’d been born a boy. Then, at least, I could have worked the ranch with him and shared in that. As it stands, it’s not as if I’m going to inherit this place. I’m as worthless as any other ranch cook.”
“Now, that’s not true, and you know it. Your talent knows no bounds, and that’s exactly why I want to get you out of this place, out to the real world where you can live and breathe as your true self.”
Lucas wanted to reach over and take her hand in his, but he knew that would probably only make her more nervous. She was still her father’s daughter, after all, and taking her under his wing meant respecting her boundaries, no matter how wild the real world was.
A cloud moved over the sun, plunging the kitchen into darkness and reminding Lucas that he couldn’t stay forever.
“My horse and wagon are still by the road. I should get going. I’ll be waiting for you at the Bellevue Hotel tomorrow night. I’ll stay up as late as I need to, so don’t worry about waiting for just the right moment. And if you don’t come…I’ll know you changed your mind.”
“Or got caught,” Emily said in a worried whisper.
“You’re too smart to get caught. We both know that. No one who has to live under the rules that you do gets as good at it without a decent amount of slyness,” he replied with a cheeky smile.
To his great delight, a guilty smile broke out on her face as well. He knew there was a mischievous side to her, but seeing the evidence was beyond gratifying.
“Alright, that’s enough of that. We can’t be too self-congratulatory until we’ve actually gotten away with it. Go! Go, and I’ll see you soon.”
As he opened the door to leave, Lucas turned back to look at Emily. He lingered there for a moment, memorizing everything about the way she looked in case something went wrong, and this was the last time he’d ever see her.
A chestnut curl dropped down over her forehead, catching the light coming in from the window. Her big blue eyes stared back at him, full of yearning for something he couldn’t quite read. The plain dress she was wearing was slightly too big, a telltale sign that there were no other women around to tell her any differently. Still, it suited her perfectly.
Her chest rose with a breath just as he let the door close behind him, briefly making him think she was about to say something. Change her mind about leaving with him, maybe? He didn’t stick around to wait for the response.
The wind picked up as soon as he turned away from the cooking cabin, clouds blowing over the sun again. Lucas took it as a sign he needed to get back to town quickly. There was still plenty to sort out before the following night. Once (and if) Emily joined his band of men, they would have to leave Bellevue as quickly as possible to avoid detection.
Lucas arrived in town before he knew it, his mind occupied with an impossible number of competing thoughts. After tying his horse to the hitching post, Lucas tied a blanket down over the equipment piled high in his cart. Given how old it all was, he had no fear that anyone would run off with the goods.
Besides, Bellevue was a fairly sleepy town. The ranchers who came through were too busy to get into trouble, and the outlaws who occasionally frequented the hotel and single saloon weren’t interested in old ranch equipment.
“You snag us a cook, boss?” Wyatt asked from his perch on the porch of the Bellevue Hotel. The other four ranch hands hung around nearby, staying out of trouble while they waited for Lucas to finish up with his business at the Black Dog.
“I did indeed,” he replied, unable to keep the smile from his face. Immediately, he worried he’d spoken too soon. There was still a good chance that Emily would change her mind, or that her father would catch her on the way out and force her to stay. He needed to instill confidence in his men, however, so maintaining a cool, calm, and collected appearance was important. She said she would come, so until she didn’t, he had to assume she would.
“The lady cook you were telling us about?” Sawyer jumped to his feet in excitement, and Lucas gave him a warning look.
“Yes, she’s a lady, but I want you boys behaving around her, am I understood? Emily’s a…a talented cook. She can make a feast out of nothing. But she’s never left the ranch she grew up on, and I don’t want you all scaring her off with your lewd and vulgar comments. Best behavior, you hear me?”
The men all looked at one another, sharing sneaky smiles that Lucas recognized from a mile away.
“I think Lucas is in loooooove,” Wyatt crooned, his thin face cracking into a harsh laugh. The other ranch hands started making teasing noises, oohing and awing, until Lucas couldn’t take it anymore.
“That’s enough of that. Emily’s an old friend, nothing more. She’ll also be in charge of keeping you all alive, so if you know what’s good for you, you’ll treat her with respect. Come on. Cut it out, or you’re all paying for your own dinner tonight,” he threatened.
The warning shut them all up very quickly, and Lucas chuckled to himself. He had a good feeling about the crew he’d pulled together. They weren’t the cleanest group of men, and neither were their backgrounds, but he knew them through and through, and they’d had his back during the harshest of times.
Starting a ranch would be a fresh beginning for them all. The thought of Emily joining on that journey made his heart soar. With her by his side, failure was not an option.
“Love’s Recipe in the Old West” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!
Emily Jones spends her days cooking delicious meals at her father’s ranch, yet her gastronomic masterpieces remain unshared experiences, as her reclusive existence is governed by the unyielding grip of her father’s rules. Straining against the confines of her father’s restrictions, Emily dreams of a life beyond the ranch’s boundaries. The night she finally abandons her father’s ranch and controlling thumb in the hopes of starting an independent life comes, along with the enigmatic Lucas…
Will her decision to escape with the stranger she unexpectedly trusts, lead her to a new path in life?
While deep in the tumultuous currents of a life led astray, Lucas Taylor, embarks on a journey to forge his own path, birthing his own ranch from the ashes of his past. Amidst this fervent endeavor, a special vision takes shape – Emily Jones as his cook. When he realizes how eager she is to follow him, he can’t help but welcome her with the same excitement to march into this new life together.
Will this dream with Emily by his side last long enough for him to believe it is true?
Each narrowly avoided disaster seems to bring the two grow closer, and the only life Emily finds herself imagining is with Lucas on her side. While they both admit the feelings are mutual, the sudden appearance of a ranger who comes to hunt Lucas down puts their dreams in danger. Lucas knows best not to pull Emily into his mess, but she insists on going on the run with him. Will they prove larger than life and escape all circumstances or will their love remain a fantasy of a fateful night?
“Love’s Recipe in the Old West” is a historical western romance novel of approximately 80,000 words. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after.
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