“I can’t thank you enough,” she said, “but you didn’t have to do something like this.”
“You need a phone when you go out there”—he motioned with a flick of his wrist toward the outside—“to scout for new ideas. Want to listen to the music I put on there? Or would you rather go down to my trailer and listen to records?”
“We wouldn’t have to keep changing the records if we just listened to the playlist here, and besides, I’m anxious to hear what you put on it,” she said.
“If you don’t like any of them, you can redo it,” he suggested. “The first one is ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water,’ because that’s the first song we heard together.”
Emma started the list and laid the phone on the rocking chair. “That is so sweet. I love this song so much. Like the words say, when I’m weary and feeling small, I know I have friends right here that will help me get through the tough times.”
“Just know that I’ll always take your part if things get dark, Em,” Josh said. “I’m here for you anytime you want to talk.”
Emma knew that he meant every word, but was it just as a friend? She’d begun to look at Josh with new eyes lately and was beginning to yearn for something more—something like what Sophie and Teddy had.
“You don’t think I’m damaged goods since”—she winced—“you know.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you, but here at Hummingbird Lane, we all respect you, Em.” Josh slipped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a hug. “You will work your way through this, and I’m always here for you if you need me.”
“Thank you, again, for everything.” Emma leaned her head over on his shoulder and listened to Chris Stapleton singing “Millionaire.” The words talked about love being more precious than gold. She could believe that with everything in her heart, body, and soul. Whether it was the love of a companion, a friend, or a parent, that’s what made a person a millionaire, not dollars or dimes. Love—the real thing—was what she wanted.
What is the real thing? the voice in her head asked.
It’s trusting whoever you are in a relationship with to love you unconditionally even if you’re damaged, she answered.
Warm sunshine on his face woke Josh the next morning. He could feel someone staring at him and opened his eyes slowly to find that he wasn’t in his bedroom. Coco was staring at him from the arm of the sofa in Emma and Sophie’s trailer. Emma’s back was spooned right up to him, and he held her safely with an arm around her.
He started to jump up, but he was afraid he would wake her. The playlist must have started all over again when it reached the end, because Simon and Garfunkel were singing the bridge song again. Coco meowed loudly, and Emma wiggled in her sleep.
Josh tried to figure out a way to get up without pushing Emma off the sofa, but when the front door flew open, she solved that problem in a flash. She was on her feet and staring first at him and then at Filly, who was standing just inside the door with a plate in her hands.
“Good morning,” Filly said with a grin.
Emma’s hands went to her chest and then down her arms. “I’m dressed,” she said.
“Yep, you sure are. You kids fall asleep listening to music?” Filly carried the plate over to the bar.
“We must have,” Emma said.
“I knew that fancy phone Josh got you would be just the thing. Thought you might like some of my blueberry scones for breakfast,” Filly said. “I’ll leave y’all to them. Got another plateful out on the table that I’m sharing with Arty this morning.”
“Thank you.” Josh sat up on the end of the sofa and fumbled around on the floor for his glasses. When he put them on, he slowly scanned the room. “I thought I was dreaming.”
Filly giggled and waved as she stepped outside.
Emma turned around to face him. “What happened?”
“We fell asleep. I don’t remember us stretching out together, but we must have gotten comfortable sometime in the early hours of the morning,” he answered. “Are you mad at me?”
“Why would I be angry?” She crossed the room and started to make a pot of coffee. “You kept me from falling off the sofa. Come on over here and have some scones with me. Want a glass of milk to go with them?”
“Love one.” He was so relieved that she wasn’t angry with him or uncomfortable that he crossed the short distance from sofa to the bar and sat on one of the barstools. “I didn’t intend to stay the whole night.”
“I liked having you here.” She set two mugs on the bar and then rounded the end to sit down beside him. “I slept really well, even if we were sharing the sofa. Now, what were we talking about when we fell asleep?” she asked.
“Music,” he answered.
“That’s right.” She nodded. “We were discussing how the songs on the playlist seemed to fit my situation.”
“Kenny Chesney and David Lee Murphy singing ‘Everything’s Gonna Be Alright.’” He grinned. “It will be, you know. You’re going to be fine, Em, I promise. Sophie’s lawyer will take care of your financial stuff, and even if you have to go to court and lose the case, you can make money on your own selling your art.”
“I hope I can live by my own wits. We heard a Rascal Flatts song last night that kind of fits my situation. It talks about a broken road that led me to this place in my life. Looking back at all the bad things—like when Mother fired Rebel, the rape, and the repressed memories—I’m glad that I’m right here today, Josh. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy in my whole life.”
What if this is all you ever get? the voice in Josh’s head asked. She’s experienced trauma in ways that she has to fix on her own. You can be here to help her if she needs to talk, but there are things you can’t fix.
I would if I could, Josh thought as he picked up a scone and bit it. The buttery layers and bits of blueberries tasted sweet in his mouth. Sweet like Emma had been to make him feel less awkward about staying over. He wanted her to be more than a friend, but he didn’t have any experience with women, and what she’d had with men was downright horrible.
Just be yourself, and spend time with her. His grandpa’s voice was clear in his head.
“Hey,” he said, “I’m taking my four-wheeler out this morning. Want to go with me?”
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“I thought I’d ride out to the base of the mountain for some inspiration on what to do next. We’ve got to work on some pieces for both Leo and Sophie now.”
“I’d love to,” Emma said, but she had doubts. Could she really crawl on the four-wheeler behind him? She had cuddled up next to him on the sofa, her back against his chest, but she didn’t remember how they’d gotten in that position. Her mother would have a fit if she knew that she’d slept with Josh or that she was going out into the desert with him on a four-wheeler. Even though he had money, he would never be good enough for a Merrill daughter, not even an unloved one.
Whoa! she thought. It’s not Mother’s business what I do anymore. I have to get past thinking like that.
And the dependence on Sophie? Victoria’s whispers were so icy that they gave her a chill even though the woman wasn’t there.
“Great,” he said. “I’m going home to get my supplies ready. I’ll make us sandwiches in case we want to stay out past lunchtime. Be back in an hour.” He disappeared out the door, and Emma reached for the cordless phone.
“I realize I’m depending on Sophie, but I need advice.” Emma poked in the number for Sophie, and then she hung up.
She paced the floor for five minutes. “I can’t do this on my own today. I need help,” she declared.
“Admitting that you need help is part of the healing process,” Nancy had said in a session. “Let me help you remember what you have locked away, Emma. Tell me why you left college and never went back. What happened to you there? It’s all right to talk about it and to ask for help when you are overwhelmed.”
She carried the phone over to the refrigerator, where Sophie had wri
tten down the phone numbers for Filly, Arty, Josh, Rebel, and herself. She started to call Sophie again, and then remembered that she would probably be getting things ready for her next showing. She should be thinking about that, not giving Emma dating advice. She was still thinking about calling Sophie when the phone rang. The noise startled her so badly that she dropped the receiver on the floor and had to scramble to pick it up. She finally answered on the fourth ring.
“Good morning again, Em. I wanted to tell you that I didn’t mean to embarrass you kids this morning,” Filly said.
“Lord, I’m glad you called,” Emma said.
“Honey, I’m not the Lord, but what’s going on?” Filly giggled.
“I just need to talk to someone. I’ve got all these strange feelings and . . .” She sucked in a lungful of air.
“I’ll be over there in two minutes,” Filly said, and the line went silent.
“Thank you,” Emma said with relief and went to the door to watch for Filly. Sure enough, in a few seconds, she came out of her trailer. Her bare feet peeked out from under her flowing skirt as she hurried across the yard. When she was on the porch, Emma threw the door open.
The first thing Filly did was stop and hug her tightly. Then she took her by the hand and led her to the sofa and pulled her down beside her. “I’m here, honey. Tell me what’s happened.”
“I thought when I remembered what happened in college, it would all be over, and I would be a whole person again, but here I am needing help.”
Filly patted her on the arm. “We all need help. Talk to me.”
“I like Josh, but I’m afraid to like him,” Emma said.
“Why? He’s a good man, independent, solid, upstanding,” Filly said. “I could go on and on, but you know him, Em, so what’s the problem?”
“It’s not Josh, it’s me,” Emma whispered.
Filly slipped an arm around Emma’s shoulders and hugged her. “You are a good woman. You and Josh have a lot in common, and you—”
“I have stuff in my past.” She frowned. The nightmares had brought out the story to Sophie, and Emma had told Josh because she wanted him to understand her issues.
“Talking about it will help you face it, so try to remember,” Nancy had said.
She kept her eyes on her hands, folded in her lap, and said, “I had one guy that I thought was my friend when I was in college. We sat by each other in art classes and talked every day that semester. He betrayed me.” She paused for a moment. “He let another boy drug and rape me. The therapists tell me I have repressed memories, but it goes deeper than that. Mother never wanted me, so it stands to reason she wouldn’t want me to inherit the company. She’s been destroying me so that I wouldn’t be fit to run the precious company that means more to her than I ever did.”
“Oh, honey, that’s what you call gaslighting. Take a breath and sit here with me for just a minute or two before we go on.” She reached over and took Emma’s hands in hers.
That calmed Emma’s racing thoughts and turmoil, but after a few seconds, she blurted out, “What am I going to do?”
“About you? About Josh? Or about both of you?” Filly asked.
“It has to be about me before it can be about anything or anyone else,” Emma said.
“Then you’ve answered your own question,” Filly said. “Straighten you out so that you don’t need anyone to complete your life or heart.”
“Sophie needs Teddy,” Emma said.
“No, Sophie loves Teddy. She is complete in her own self. She can survive without anyone. Think about it like this: If you had to have Josh to live or function, what would happen if he died? You would be right back where you were when you depended on your mother for everything. Work on getting where you need to be within you, and then you can think about what happens with you and Josh,” Filly said.
“Like you, huh?” Emma said.
“I wasn’t always like this.” Filly smiled. “There was a time in my life when I thought I had to have a certain young man in my life to make me whole. I got him, and everything was rainbows and unicorns until he decided to leave the carnival with another woman.”
“What did you do?” Emma asked.
“I went to pieces, of course, and that’s when I realized that it was all right to grieve, but it was not all right to depend on someone to define who I was. It took several months, but I came out on the other side a stronger person,” Filly told her. “You will, too, but you have to hunt for yourself before you do anything else.”
“Hunt? That’s a strange word,” Emma said.
“Honey, we are hunting our whole lives. As women, we hunt for love. As artists, we hunt for inspiration. As people, we hunt for truth. You’ve been on a quest to find out what happened to you to make you so dependent on others, and you’ve found it, but now you have to hunt for your own inner peace. Remember what I told you when I read your palms? You are a strong person who will influence others. You want that, but you want someone who will influence you in ways that will balance your relationship.” Filly dropped her hands.
“Did you ever find someone like that?” Emma looked down at her hands and felt just a little empty without Filly’s touch.
“Sure I did,” Filly said. “Arty is my partner. We balance each other.”
“Really?” Emma could feel her eyes widening.
“Oh, yeah,” Filly answered. “Years ago, when we were younger, it was physical, but now that we’re older, that part has begun to fade and we’re just the best of friends. We’ve had an amazing journey together.”
“But you argue so much,” Emma said.
Filly chuckled. “That’s just our way. Be true to you, and the rest of the world, including Josh, will love you.”
“But what if . . . ,” she started.
“Worrying about what if ruins your day,” Filly said.
“I’m thirty-five years old, and I don’t even know how to kiss a man,” Emma admitted and felt her face burn with a blush.
Filly’s chuckle turned into a giggle. “Honey, kissing comes as natural as breathing. Just let nature take its course and don’t overthink anything.”
“I must sound like a fool,” Emma whispered.
“Never.” Filly patted her on the knee. “If you have questions, feel free to call me. I’m glad you feel close enough to me to feel like you can ask me anything.”
“Thank you, Filly.” Emma smiled.
“Now, stop worrying and enjoy this beautiful day. I hear Josh’s four-wheeler coming this way. Are you kids going out today?”
“We’re going out to”—Emma’s smile got even bigger—“hunt for inspiration.”
“Then you should be going, and so should I. I’ve got jewelry to make and dessert to think about for supper tonight.” Filly got up and slipped out the front door just as Josh rapped on the back one.
Chapter Sixteen
Emma had been nervous the first time she rode the bike she got for her eighth birthday, but with Rebel’s help and a lot of encouragement from Sophie, she had mastered the thing in a few tries. She grabbed up her backpack and was heading toward the door when Josh knocked.
“I’m ready,” she said.
“Great.” He slid the door open for her and stood to one side. “It’s a nice, sunny day for writing down ideas and maybe even doing some rough sketching.”
That same feeling that she had had the day she rode the bike—fear that she couldn’t do it—knotted her stomach into a pretzel when she looked at the four-wheeler.
You don’t have to drive the damn thing. Sophie’s giggles were so real that Emma glanced over her shoulder to see if her friend had come home early.
Josh slid out of the seat and stowed her backpack in one of the saddlebags attached to the sides of the machine, then got back on and slid forward. “Have you ever ridden on one of these before?” he asked.
“Nope,” she answered. Or sat behind a handsome guy on one, either, she thought.
“Just get on behind me.” Josh patted t
he back of the seat. “I’ll go slow and try not to hit too many gopher holes.”
She slung a leg over and settled in behind him, but there was no way she could keep any distance between them. Her front was plastered against his back, and her legs were against his. Every nerve in her body tingled, her breath shortened, and her pulse raced. She wasn’t sure what to do with her hands. Should she wrap them around his waist or hold on to the sides of the seat?
“I’ve never had anyone ride with me before, Em, but I think you’d feel more secure if you hold on to me,” Josh said.
“All right.” She wrapped her arms around him and then didn’t know whether to clasp her hands together or splay them out on his chest. She finally opted for the latter. He revved up the engine a little, and they were off.
True to his word, he did not go fast, but the wind in her hair and the instant feeling of total freedom were like nothing she’d ever felt before. If she ever made enough money with her artwork, she was going to buy one of these things for herself. Riding in or even driving a car had never made her feel like this, but then the only time she’d been this close to a guy before was in the halls at the elementary school as all the kids rushed from class to class.
Your father hugged you and kissed you on the forehead before he told you good night, the voice in her head reminded her.
That’s different, she argued.
And then there was the rape. You were close to Terrance during that horrible ordeal, the pesky voice reminded her.
Don’t ever compare Josh to that monster, she said silently.
“Are you all right?” Josh yelled over the roar of the engine and the wind. “I can feel your heart racing.”
“I’m fine,” she answered. “I can feel your heart doing the same.” She amazed herself when she tapped her fingers on the left side of his chest. She was flirting, and it didn’t feel weird.
“Only other time I’ve had a girl pressed up against me was when I woke up this morning,” he admitted.
“You’ve never dated?” she asked.
“Nope.” He stopped the vehicle and turned off the engine. “Don’t get off. I just wanted you to see the cottontail rabbit over there against that big cow’s tongue cactus. He’d be a real cutie for one of your paintings.”
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