Cowboy in the Making. Julie Benson

anytime soon?”

      “Hold your horses. I had to tell you all this before I could get to my idea,” Mick said, taking his time despite his friend’s good-natured ribbing. “Jamie and your Emma would be perfect for each other. Who knows what would’ve happened between them if he hadn’t gone back to Juilliard at the end of that summer. Hell, they might even be married by now.”

      “That’s a mighty big leap you just took. Sure, they dated, but as I remember, it wasn’t anything serious.”

      “If you ask me, it would’ve gotten serious if Jamie had been planning on sticking around. You can’t tell me there wasn’t a spark between our grandkids. I saw it. Could be all they need now is a little nudge to get things restarted. What harm can some matchmaking do? Mothers and grandmothers have been doing it for years.”

      “And men have been telling them to knock it off.”

      “Since we can lead the horses to water but can’t make them drink, what do we have to lose?”

      “They could get so mad they won’t speak to us,” Gene said as he stirred the simmering barbeque sauce for the pulled pork sandwiches. “That’s a real possibility considering how Emma feels about musicians. She rates them between politicians and lawyers.”

      “This is my grandson we’re talking about. Emma won’t find a better man than Jamie anywhere.”

      “That’s true, but considering the way Kimberly acted when Jamie contacted her, do you think he can get past the fact that Emma gave up a child for adoption?”

      Mick still couldn’t believe a child of his and Carol’s had acted the way their daughter had when Jamie had contacted her ten years ago. Instead of welcoming the eighteen-year-old, his daughter had told Jamie she wanted nothing to do with him and slammed the door in his face. Then she’d called Mick, who’d told her to be honest with her husband, insisting a man who’d leave her over getting pregnant at sixteen and giving the child up wasn’t worth holding on to. What he’d got for his advice was a lecture about what a wonderful man his son-in-law was and a request that Mick not have any contact with Jamie, either.

      He’d told his daughter straight-out that she could do what she wanted with her life, but she couldn’t tell him what to do with his, and he’d set out to locate his grandson. When he’d found Jamie a few months later, he’d invited him for a visit, and Jamie had flown to Colorado for spring break.

      “I can’t tell you why, but I know your granddaughter and my grandson are meant to be together. You’re just gonna have to trust me.”

      Gene shook his head. “I would like to see Emma happy with a man who’ll treat her right. What do you have in mind?”

      “First, I think I’ll be too sick tomorrow to pick Jamie up at the airport, and you’ll be too busy handling everything here at the restaurant to go.”

      “And I’ll ask my granddaughter to help out by picking up Jamie.”

      “That’s the first step.”

      * * *

      THE ENTICING SMELL of tomatoes sautéing with garlic wafted through the air as Emma rushed in the kitchen door to Halligan’s. Her mouth watered and her stomach growled, making her wish she hadn’t punched the snooze button so many times she had to skip breakfast. Now all she could think of was how her grandfather’s meatball sub would hit the spot.

      After giving Grandpa G a quick kiss on his weathered cheek, she asked, “What’s so important that I have to drop everything and come over here?”

      While she loved her family, sometimes she wished there weren’t so many of them, or that a few of them lived farther away. Both sets of grandparents, her father and three older brothers all living in one town of eight thousand people could be overwhelming. Worse yet, she couldn’t catch a cold without her entire family knowing about it within an hour, and half of them calling with advice, and yet, how often had she been at family gatherings and felt completely alone?

      “Mick called. He’s sick, so I have to handle things around here.”

      “It’s not anything serious, is it?”

      Her grandfather shook his head. “It’s just a stomach bug, but there’s no way he can make the drive to Denver to pick up his grandson at the airport. He wanted me to ask if you’d help him out by picking Jamie up.”

      She hadn’t thought about Jamie Westland in a long time. For two summers when she was in high school they’d worked together at Halligan’s. They’d even dated a few times after she’d broken up with Tucker when she’d discovered he’d been two-timing her with Monica Ritz. Had that been a big red flag waving in her face, warning her of what life would be like with Tucker, or what?

      But Jamie had been different. When they’d been together he’d made her feel as though she mattered, because he’d focused solely on her. They’d gone out for pizza and caught a couple of movies that summer. Nothing major, because they’d both known he’d be returning to Juilliard in the fall. Well, except for some heavy necking. What would’ve happened between them if he hadn’t been returning to New York? If their plans hadn’t been so different? Would she still have gotten back together with Tucker? She shook her head. What good did wondering do? It wasn’t as if she could change the past.

      “You could have asked me that on the phone, Grandpa. If you had, it would’ve saved me a trip over here, and I could’ve had breakfast.”

      “Why didn’t you tell me you hadn’t eaten?” Her grandfather strode to the refrigerator and grabbed what she recognized as the ingredients for her favorite breakfast—an omelet with spinach, mushrooms and Roma tomatoes.

      “Feeding me won’t get you what you want. I can’t pick Jamie up at the airport. I’ve got a volunteer orientation and training all day.”

      “That’s not a problem. His flight doesn’t get in until eight tonight,” Grandpa G said as he threw together her omelet and poured the egg mixture into a hot pan.

      So much for the convenient excuse. “Can’t Jamie rent a car?”

      “He’s from New York City. Who knows if he can drive?”

      There were people in the U.S. who couldn’t drive? Really? She found that hard to believe. She thought about the summer she and Jamie had dated. “Wait a minute. I remember him driving Mick’s truck on a couple of our dates.”

      “Oh, well. Hmm. I forgot about that.” Her grandfather shuffled back and forth, his brows furrowed together in thought as he concentrated on the pan in front of him. Then he plated her omelet and handed the mouthwatering goodness to her along with a fork. “Of course, that was before he spent all those years in the Big Apple. Who knows if he still has a valid driver’s license?”

      “You can’t be serious.” She scooped up a bite of her omelet. The fluffy concoction melted in her mouth. No matter how many times she tried, hers never turned out like Grandpa G’s, but she wouldn’t let his wonderful cooking sway her.

      “All I know is that Mick asked me to ask you to pick up Jamie at the airport, and that’s what I’m doing. I don’t know why you’re being so difficult.”

      She was being difficult? She didn’t know what alien had taken over her grandfather’s body, but there was no reasoning with him today. “With as much family as we have in town there has to be someone else who can pick him up.”

      Grandpa G placed the knife on the cutting board, turned and stared at her. He waved his hand around the kitchen. “Does it look like I have time to call around to find someone else to do this for me?”

      Line cooks, dishwashers and everyone else in the kitchen froze, turned and stared with their mouths hanging open in disbelief at her grandfather’s sharp tone.

      Now she knew something was wrong. Either that or he’d taken cranky pills along with his vitamins this morning. In her entire life she never remembered him raising his