by Rita Hestand
"I know, but the way that kid gets around the yard and barn, she's gonna need something to keep the mud off her." Deke chuckled.
"You noticed?"
"Couldn't help but notice, she was muddier than a pig with an itch the other day. Must have taken you an hour to clean the tub after you bathed her."
"It did. Okay you win. You're the boss." Emma laughed.
"You have a nice laugh Emma; you should do it more often."
Pink dotted her cheeks.
"So, tell me, where's the baby's father? What was his name, Charlie?"
"His name was Joel, and I have no idea where he might be. He's a lot like Clint; he goes where the wind blows him. Charlie was our closest neighbor's son. My brother's best friend."
"Oh yeah. That's right. The man who didn't want to be burdened with a kid."
"That's right."
"Too bad for him," he blurted, as he braked too quickly from a passing car and skidded. An unfamiliar car sped past at high speed, forcing him to the edge of the road. Emma bumped her head on the dash, and Deke stopped the truck, pulling off the side of the highway.
"Damned fool idiot. He should have looked where he was going." Deke declared as he reached over to check Emma. His heart was hammering so hard he couldn't think straight. "Are you all right?"
His hand was on her arm, and he felt her pulse speed up, or was that his own? He wasn't sure, he didn't care. All he wanted was to be closer, suddenly, to touch her cheek, to what? Something about touching Emma sent a shock wave of reactions through him. Maybe it was the contrast of soft skin against calluses. He didn't know. Just then she looked up at him, with such wide eyed anticipation. He couldn't stop himself from tipping her chin up, and feather touching her lips with his own. And her lips were as sweet as he'd been imagining all day. He felt like a bear stealing honey from a bee-hive.
"God, I thought you were hurt," he murmured against her cheek as he kissed her thoroughly on the lips again. So sweet.
Emma felt soft and warm, and yielding and he wanted more of her than what the truck would allow. A lot more. But good sense prevailed when his arm knocked the horn and jolted him back to reality. He sighed heavily knowing the rest of the day and night would be painful to get through. He definitely needed to find himself a woman.
What had he been thinking? Emma wasn't for him! God, he was blowing his own plans. It had to be the circumstance of riding in an enclosed truck with her, smelling that sweet smell of lilacs that was all her own, and the brushing of her hair against his arm. That and the fact that he hadn't been with a woman in a while. Nothing else made sense.
That was one mistake he wasn't about to repeat. But what could he say to her? Hell, he wasn't sorry; he wanted to do it all over again. But maybe apologizing would impress upon her that he wasn't interested in carrying it any further. Yet he didn't want to hurt her feelings. She had to know she wasn't for him. Best he set her straight right now.
"I'm sorry Emma, I shouldn't have done that. I was way out of line."
Emma pinked again, and he thought he saw a flash of anger in those warm brown eyes. "It won't happen again."
"No, it won't."
He nodded slowly not liking the sound of that any better than his apology.
When he found himself in a bad situation he usually kept his mouth shut, so that's what he did.
He could see by the startled look on her face she was as confused as he was.
Half hour later he took Emma to one of the local dress shops in Sweetwater and stood around a few minutes waiting on her. Emma looked at several dresses then turned back to him.
"It's a little expensive, here, don't you think?"
"I don't know I've never shopped here, myself." He found himself irritated. And why not, he had lost his mind back there on the road. Being out of control wasn't where he wanted to be.
"Look, maybe this isn't a good idea. Maybe you don't really want to take me to the dance, tonight," Emma suggested.
"I invited you, didn't I? Now, find yourself a dress." He didn't mean to bark at her, but he wasn't really barking at her, he was barking at himself. He should have known better, controlled his urges. But there was something about her . . .
"I can't Deke. I've never bought a dress before." She didn't look at him, and he felt all his anger suddenly drain away as though it had never been.
Deke frowned, and then it dawned on him. Emma had never been treated like a woman in her family. She as much as said so before. It didn't take much deducing that those three ignorant brothers of hers and that ram-rod father hadn't so much as paid attention to the fact that she had grown into a lovely young woman under their noses.
"Maybe the saleslady can help." Deke looked around for one and saw her with another customer. After a short time he went over and asked the woman for help.
"What kind of dance is it?" The middle aged saleslady asked.
"A country dance. She needs something pretty."
"I see. Okay. You look like a size 3 or 5 to me. Let's see what we have. Would you like to try it on?"
"Yes, I guess so." Emma nodded.
"There's a chair over in the corner by the mirror, if you'd like to wait, for her." The lady smiled at Deke.
"Sure."
"Uh–why don't you go get your supplies?" Emma suggested.
"That's okay, we can do that later," Deke insisted.
Emma seemed uncomfortable with him staying, but he was determined to set his plans into action tonight, before he made a bigger jackass of himself.
He waited and watched as Emma tried on several dresses. Some were much too sophisticated for the dance, but they looked great on her. He liked them all, and was sure that once Clint saw her dressed like this, he'd forget all about his broken heart.
After nearly an hour of trying on dresses, Emma finally modeled one that struck Deke as perfect. It was a dark blue sundress with big white flowers on the flared skirt, squared off at the neck and low in the back.
"I don't think this one is right," Emma protested as she checked the price tag.
Deke's eyes were on the dress, and her. "It's perfect, look at yourself Emma, you're beautiful."
Emma turned around and around. That's when Deke realized her expression was worth every penny of it. Hadn't she ever heard the words? What kind of fool men had she been raised with?
"It's lovely, really," the lady said and smiled at Deke.
Emma thanked her and Deke too as they left the store.
She was so tied up in knots he knew she'd never settle down unless he changed the subject.
"Let's go find me a decent shirt and tie."
"Okay," Emma agreed happily.
The men's shop where Cal Travers traded was more western, but Deke had little trouble locating his kind of clothes. He picked out a couple of shirts, and even asked her opinion, then she shyly handed him a bolero tie. He nodded with a smile.
Feeling a little awkward himself, Deke blurted out, "So, did you buy your husband's clothes a lot?"
"We weren't married," Emma responded woodenly.
Deke had the sinking feeling he'd opened a can of worms. He frowned. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pried. Say, let's go get the baby a pair of boots and then go eat."
"Okay. I'm starved."
"Me too," he added, but not for food. He was hungry for more information about Emma. This beautiful young woman had obviously had a rough life, and he suddenly wished there was more he could do to make things easier for her and Sammie Jo.
His mind kept filtering back to how Emma had looked in that dress and he was having difficulty walking, just thinking about it. Clint would love it. And why that indigestion was bothering him again, he didn't know.
"What do you feel like eating, Emma?" he asked as they set the new pair of red cowboy boots in the floorboard of the truck.
"You promise you won't laugh?"
"I promise."
"A hamburger. A greasy spoon hamburger loaded with everything, and big French-fries smothered in k
etchup."
"I'd have never guessed. I'm kind of fond of them myself, and I know a little place that makes the best home-made hamburgers in town. Want to try it?"
"Sounds great. I miss them sometimes because I rarely cook them myself. And I rarely eat out."
"Oh, I'd think you'd have a lot of men wanting to buy you dinner."
"Afraid not. I didn't date much at home. Probably wouldn't have dated Charlie if he hadn't been such a good friend of Jesse's."
"Are you sure you're over this Charlie? You sure talk about him a lot."
"I'm sure. Why?"
"You don't talk about the baby's father as much as you do Charlie. Was he just some spur of the moment romance?"
"I didn't know him as well, I guess."
In less than thirty minutes they were parked under an awning of a fifties style drive-in and munching inside the truck on a juicy hamburger, French-fries and milk shakes.
"How come you don't wear dresses Emma?" Deke asked biting into his burger and trying not to look at her. He knew she was probably embarrassed. He knew it wasn't his business, but he really wanted to know more about her.
He had blurted that out, too. God, he had no class. But how was he ever going to find out anything about this woman if he didn't ask?
"My dad always treated me like one of the boys. He didn't know how to handle a girl. He could never have taken me in a shop and bought me a dress like you did. He'd die of embarrassment. I think part of his problem was that my mother died on him. He just couldn't handle women from then on. I think it must have been very painful for him. He never talked about it though."
"You have a very understanding and forgiving nature, Emma. Most girls would be bitter, hurt even. You don't even talk down this Joel character; I have to admire you for that."
"My brothers made up for a lot. They were protective of me and fun for me. Besides, they all told me that it was a rough old world out there and I better figure on it."
"You are really something. It's a wonder you survived. It's a wonder you aren't a little mixed up, because of your father's attitude."
"What can I say, he was my dad. You don't choose your parents. You live with them. I didn't always enjoy living like that. I guess when I was little I had my share of hurt feelings. But it toughened me. But a woman around would have been nice, especially in my teens. With three older brothers I got my share of teasing. It was awkward. There were things I had to ask my friends to buy for me and my cousin Kate."
"I'm sorry Emma. At least now I understand. I just thought you were trying to hide something. Last girl I dated, she was nice, real nice, and real married. Just can't tolerate a liar."
When a silence ensued he picked the conversation again. "What about your husband, did he buy dresses for you? I mean your–boyfriend."
"No, he didn't buy anything for me. We weren't married. And I'd like to tell you . . . ."
Just then someone Deke knew stopped by and Deke rolled down his window and started talking to him. It was a lengthy conversation and Emma sat very quietly against the door jam, like a frightened rabbit. Deke introduced her of course but she remained quiet.
When the man left, Deke turned to her. "Sorry, just an old high school friend. Well, I guess we better be getting back. The dance starts pretty early."
"What about your supplies? You didn't really have any supplies to pick up, did you? You did this just for me!" Emma shook her head and smiled at him. "I hope I don't embarrass you or make a fool of myself. I really don't know how to dance that well."
"I'll tell you a secret, I don't either. Half the people there don't. Hell we are all country people Emma. Nobody there is gonna look at what your feet are doing. What I'm trying to tell you is–who cares? We just like to let loose and have a little fun."
Emma laughed a heady sound to Deke. Deke reached over and wiped a tiny spot of mustard off her mouth and Emma seemed to freeze.
He backed off, turned the ignition on and backed the truck out of the parking lot before he did what he'd wanted to do all afternoon. Because what he wanted to do–what he knew he shouldn't want to do–was kiss Emma over and over and over.
Chapter Six
The silence in the cab of the truck thickened with every passing fence post. Emma wrung her hands, wishing she could still bite her fingernails and look composed.
"You're worried about the stock, aren't you?" Emma asked unable to keep silent any longer, and watching his expression change dramatically. She shouldn't have agreed to come to the dance, what with Jake announcing that more cattle were sick. Guilt riddled her. She should be home with Sammie Jo.
Deke's fingers tensed on the steering column, his forehead creasing. "A little. With more cattle coming down sick, it means it might not be the grain. It might be the water."
"The water?" Emma gasped.
"Yeah, we haven't had rain in over a month, it's been a hundred or over, every day, the water around here is stagnant. Enough to poison a herd." Deke replied.
"I never dreamed." Emma stared at him. "What are you gonna do?"
"Test the area we've been watering in and move them to a safer one. If it's true it'll go before the Cattlemen's Association for further discussions and actions. We'll have to have the authorities out here and check it but I'm pretty sure what they'll find." Deke's voice sounded hollow, worry lines crowded his smooth forehead.
"Maybe we shouldn't go to the dance. It's not necessary on my account. I didn't realize what was going on when Jake came in this evening. I only knew it had to be serious by the look on his face."
"No need you worrying about it Emma. Nothing we can do about it tonight. I'll talk with some of the other ranchers; see what's going on with them. It will give me a clearer idea of what we are up against."
"Why don't we just turn around," Emma began, her worry multiplying with the seconds that ticked by. His mind was on the ranch, hers on Sammie Jo, this wasn't right. The entire day hadn't been right for that matter. The kiss had sizzled her brain. She wasn't thinking straight. She didn't want to be responsible for him losing time he needed at the ranch. She remembered how Frank and her brothers had fretted over every little detail of ranch problems while carrying out their responsibilities to her. She felt a burden then and now.
"Emma," Deke reached for her hand almost on reflex. "Stop fretting. It's all right. We'll go to the dance, you'll have a good time, meet some neighbors, and I'll talk to some of the other ranchers there. Maybe someone there has some ideas."
Emma tried to ignore the electrical charge that ran through her from Deke's touch. She wondered if he felt anything, or if he was merely being kind. She couldn't tell from the hooded glances he'd been giving her. Ignoring the pounding of her own heart, her eyes landed on his hand, and he moved it slowly.
"I knew this was all wrong from the beginning," Emma cried out. "I never should have gone into Sweetwater for a new dress. I should have spent that money on Sammie Jo. I don't know what came over me; I'm usually not that self-indulgent."
"Feeling guilty?" Deke questioned, his glance taking her in with one swoop of his long dark lashes. Emma wondered how a man's lashes could be so long, so dramatic and still belong to a man.
"A little, yes." She saw his sardonic look. "Okay, a lot."
His eyes swept her approvingly, a slow burning smile spreading over his handsome face. Damn, why did this particular cowboy have to have such an effect on her?
"Don't be, Emma, it was worth it."
A momentary bubble of elation jolted her awareness, even though she tried to squash it. A compliment she wouldn't soon forget, she decided as he gave her a quick wink. He had kissed her this afternoon, reassured her just now with a touch of his hand, and now this beautiful compliment, how could the evening get any better?
After another short silence, she admitted it. "I've never left Sammie Jo at night before. Maybe that accounts for my nerves."
"You're not afraid dad can't handle it are you?"
"No, no of course not. Cal seems very
good with her. Very good. But she's still so little, and I don't want her to think I've deserted her. She needs me, I should be there. I'm not here to attend dances, and buy pretty dresses. I'm the cook, for heaven's sake."
"Social status means very little out here, Emma. Being a cook is a decent job. Besides, you are much more than that to us."
Emma tried to smile.
"Ya know Emma, you may or may not realize it, but Sammie Jo has been good for Dad. He's been sick a lot this past year. He's been in and out of hospitals with respiratory problems. He has a severe case of Emphysema and the doctors warned him if he didn't quit smoking, he'd be on an oxygen machine. They meant it."
"I didn't realize it was that serious. I knew there were some problems, I've heard him wheeze. He coughs some, but he seems to be doing better now than when I first arrived." Emma let herself relax, holding her hand in her lap and leaning herself against the seat comfortably, although she still hugged the door.
"Do you know why?" Deke shot her a glance, his mouth tipping upward.
"No."
"Sammie Jo." The lines in Deke's forehead suddenly disappeared. "I knew that little gal would warm his heart, but I didn't dare hope she'd turn him around."
Emma watched the play of emotions cross his expressions. This man loved his family, just like she loved Sammie Jo. "I don't understand." Emma couldn't put the two unrelated things together.
"Sammie Jo distracts him so much; he doesn't reach for a cigarette anymore. He's nearly stopped smoking. God, that's a miracle in itself." His voice thickened with that same emotion. "I haven't said a word to him about it, because if he realized it, he might go right back to doing it, out of pure contrariness."
"Smoking is a hard habit to quit, I've been told. Never took it up myself, never had the time. But I had an aunt that died of lung cancer. She smoked right up until she died, the doctors scolding her every step of the way. Said she'd just soon die as to give it up. She was eighty though and had been smoking most of her life."
Deke turned the air-condition vents towards her. "She must have been a tough rascal. That's not a pretty way to go, if there is one." He fell silent a moment then looked at her. "You don't talk about your family much Emma. Except your brothers. I take it you were close to them?"