Istare at my phone for a full minute before responding. My first instinct is to decline—I don't do lunch dates. I’m usually working. It’s been a slow process, but over the past year I’ve been here, the ranchers have started to trust my competence, so I’ve been taking more calls out in the field. Visiting ranches gives me the opportunity to explore without it being weird.
But I like Emma. Not to mention she’s Jake Callahan's partner, and Jake Callahan is Mason Rivera's family, and Mason Rivera saw my barcode tattoo three nights ago. Has he said anything to her? Is she on a reconnaissance mission?
The thought that she might have a hidden agenda makes me wince.
I need to find out, so I text back.
See you there.
The Iron Ridge Diner sits on Main Street between the hardware store and the post office, its sign promising HOME COOKING in faded red letters. The lunch rush is in full swing when I arrive—booths packed with ranch hands and retirees, the air thick with the smell of bacon grease and burnt coffee.
I do my scan of the room. Exits: front door, kitchen access, emergency exit near the restrooms. Threats: none visible. I look one more time to make sure I haven’t missed that man, and I relax a little when I don’t see him.
Emma's already here, tucked into a corner booth with a view of the door. She waves when she sees me, her smile warm and genuine in a way that makes my chest tighten. Emma trusts with her whole heart, which feels reckless, but somehow she makes it look strong instead of naïve. She’s everything I don’t know how to be: open, warm, and emotionally brave.
Really, I’m not sure why she wants to be my friend, but her bright light’s drawn me in from the first time we met.
“Hey, Lily,” Emma says with a wide smile. She's wearing a soft blue sweater that brings out her eyes, her dark hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. She looks settled and content—like a woman who's found her place in the world and isn't afraid to claim it.
I wonder what that feels like as I slide into the booth. “Hey.”
Martha, the owner, appears right behind me. She pours us coffee while she talks loudly to another customer across the room. She sets down two laminated menus and disappears back toward the kitchen.
Emma wraps her hands around her mug. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, and I needed to get out of the house, so I’m glad you were free today.”
“Two birds, one stone?” I ask, pulling my coffee toward me, testing the waters to understand what this is.
“Something like that.” Emma laughs, and it's easy—no hidden agenda whatsoever. “Jake's been swamped with ranch stuff, and honestly, I just needed girl time. Have you heard from Harper?”
Harper Garrett was the first person I met in town. I like her. She has the sort of confidence that makes people move around her rather than against her. I guess that’s why she makes such a good deputy sheriff. “It sounds like she’s been busy.”
Emma’s smile dims a bit. “There’s been a lot going on around Iron Ridge the past few weeks.”
I know we’re both thinking of her house and how it was set on fire. One night after one too many whiskeys, Harper told me she thought Cole Turner was behind the arson. The Circle H borders the Turner land, so that didn’t surprise me. I’m just glad Emma hadn’t been there that night.
Martha comes back to the table. “The usual, ladies?”
Emma says yes, but I don’t get a chance to answer before Martha bustles off.
“I wonder what I’ll get. I don’t have a usual,” I admit with a shrug. “I’m always too busy with patients to come here for lunch.”
Emma laughs. “You weren’t busy today?”
“I decided I could take an hour off.” I take a breath, deciding to probe. “I ran into Mason at the Rusty Spur Friday night.”
Pushing her coffee cup aside, she puts her elbows on the table and leans forward. “What?”
“Yeah. We talked for a bit.” I know this’ll get her going, because she’s been teasing me about Mason liking me for a few weeks now.
“He didn't mention it.” Her eyes narrowing in thought. “Mason doesn't talk about women. Not with me, anyway. But you’re my friend, so I’d think he’d say something. Jake hasn’t mentioned anything either, so I doubt Mason’s said anything to him.”
I toy with the edge of my paper napkin. “Does he keep things private when he's interested in someone?”
“Based on what Jake’s told me, Mason doesn’t do interested.” Emma tilts her head, studying me, her gaze bright with curiosity. “Luke’s a playboy, and Jake wasn’t a choir boy before me either, but Mason keeps to himself. Jake says that when it comes to that sort of stuff, Mason handles himself.”
I blush. I can picture Mason “handling himself.” It’s something I want to picture again, later when I’m alone.
Emma must realize what she said because she blushes too. “Um, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I just meant that Mason doesn’t go after women often.”