Emma's Wish

by Margery Scott

  "I ... wanted to help him."

  Shaking his head, the attorney gave her a disbelieving look. "Please, Mrs. Jenkins. Don't insult the court's intelligence. You expect us to believe you'd sacrifice your freedom, your entire life to help someone you'd barely knew. Tell me, Mrs. Jenkins, what do you get out of this arrangement?"

  Emma couldn't answer. Put in those words, the attorney made it sound as if her motives were less than honorable, as if she had something to gain something by marrying Sam.

  Her marriage had given her more than he could possibly know, but certainly nothing like what he was suggesting. He seemed to suspect she had an ulterior motive, although she couldn't even begin to surmise exactly what he was accusing her of. Before she had a chance to counter his implications, his voice grew louder, and he continued to attack her.

  "And," he went on," you expect this court to believe you're a happy little family."

  Emma felt tears building, and she struggled to compose herself. "Yes," she whispered. "We are."

  "You've testified you and Mr. Jenkins are happily married."

  "That's right." Her gaze slid to Sam. She could almost feel him urging her on.

  "Then let's talk about your marriage to Mr. Jenkins," he said, crossing closer to her. "You say you married him to "help" him."

  Emma nodded.

  "In what way did you agree to "help"?

  "I agreed to look after the house and care for the children."

  "What else?"

  Emma paused. What was he getting at?

  "Mrs. Jenkins? I asked you a question?" the lawyer prodded.

  "What other services did you agree to provide to Mr. Jenkins?"

  "Nothing else," she admitted finally.

  The attorney smirked. "I see. So your only purpose in this marriage was to be a housekeeper and nursemaid."

  "I don't think of it that way--"

  "What about being a wife, Mrs. Jenkins? Did you not agree to be a wife to your husband?"

  Emma's face burned with humiliation.

  "Well?" he prodded. "Do you and Mr. Jenkins have a real marriage?"

  Jonas shouted. "I object. What goes on between my clients behind closed doors is nobody's business."

  "Sustained," the judge said. "Be careful, Mr. Ambrose. This line of questioning is bordering on harassment."

  "My apologies, Your Honor." Turning back to Emma, he gave her a cold smile. "Mrs. Jenkins, I suspect your reasons for marrying Sam Jenkins had absolutely nothing to do with caring for these children."

  "What--?"

  He turned his attention to the judge. "No further questions, Your Honor," he said, then turned his back on her and walked away.

  ***

  "What kind of bastard--?"

  Sam felt Jonas's hand on his arm, restraining him. He wanted nothing more than to knock the smug expression right off Ambrose's face. "Quiet, Sam. I mean it. Don't give him the satisfaction of seeing you lose your temper. That's what he's trying to do. He's trying to rile you so that when he gets his chance to question you, you'll already be hostile. He's counting on that to show the judge you can't control yourself. Now calm down."

  Sam supposed Jonas's reasoning made sense, but sitting here watching helplessly while the Howards' lawyer had humiliated Emma turned his stomach into knots.

  Emma's face was ashen and eyes full of tears as she trudged back to her seat. As she sat down, Sam squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry, Sam," she whispered.

  "Listen to me," he implored, cupping her chin and forcing her to look at him. "You have nothing to be sorry about. Nothing. Okay?"

  Emma nodded slightly, but Sam knew she didn't agree with him. Her testimony had hurt them. They both knew that. But it wasn't her fault.

  Muttering and whispers from the spectators filled the small courtroom.

  The judge picked up his gavel and hammered it on its base. "Quiet."

  The noise in the courtroom dissipated until the only sounds were those floating through the open window of a child laughing, and a dog barking somewhere nearby. "Please continue, Mr. McCallum," the judge said, leaning back in his chair.

  Leaning over to Sam, Jonas whispered, "This is it, Sam. Just remember what I told you."

  Sam nodded, then crossed to the witness stand after Jonas called his name.

  "Okay, Mr. Jenkins. Let's get right to the nitty-gritty of this matter. Why did you marry Emma?"

  Sam was a little taken aback. He expected Jonas to lead into his questions, as he had with the other witnesses. "Well," he responded, "At the time, I would have done anything to keep my kids. Emma offered to marry me. I accepted."

  "But you didn't know Emma. You didn't know she would be a good mother to your children. Did you?"

  Sam hesitated. Jonas was supposed to be on their side. What was he doing?

  "Sam?"

  "Well, no, I didn't. Not at first."

  "How did you and Emma meet?"

  Sam related the events leading up to his arrival at Emma's house. It seemed like they'd met years ago, but at the same time, it seemed like only yesterday that they'd stood face to face in her kitchen arguing about the future of his children.

  "Why did the children run away from home?" Jonas asked.

  "They didn't want to go to live with their grandparents."

  Jonas repeated the statement, slowly and with emphasis. "Why do you suppose that is? Seems like they'd be able to give them anything they want."

  "Becky had never seen her grandparents, since was born here in Texas, and the boys don't remember their lives back east. They were too young when we left for them to remember it much. This is home to them."

  "Let's move on. So you met Emma. Then what happened?"

  Sam hesitated, then told the rest of the story. As he spoke, he glanced at the faces of those in the crowd. Some eyed him with shocked disbelief, others with disgust in their eyes. Put in words, he had to admit the story did sound cold and heartless, as if he'd used Emma.

  But isn't that exactly what he'd done? He'd used the fact that she was a warm and loving woman who wanted a home and children, and he'd taken advantage of her. Sure, she'd been the one to make the proposition in the first place, but any kind of decent man would have turned her down. And to make matters worse, lately he'd been pressuring her to give even more of herself, hadn’t he?

  He should be thankful for what he had instead of wishing for more. He was grateful, and he wouldn't be pushing her for more if he didn't really believe she wanted more from their marriage, too. And if he didn't fall asleep every night thinking about her lying next to him and how much he wanted her. But it wasn't only the physical release he needed. It was more, so much more than that.

  Jonas's voice interrupted his wayward thoughts. "But you didn't know what kind of woman Emma was? How could you have known she would be a good mother to your children?"

  "Oh ... but by the time we agreed to get married, I did know," Sam contradicted. "I spoke to people who knew her. They all agreed the children would be lucky to have her as their mother."

  "They did?"

  He looked at Emma as he continued. "And that I'd be a lucky man to marry her."

  He smiled at Emma, and her face reddened. The way she blushed at a simple compliment was only one of the qualities he loved about her.

  "So you didn't just jump into a marriage without thinking about it and making sure the woman you were going to marry was fit to raise your children."

  "Of course not."

  "You married her strictly for the purpose of being able to keep your children with you."

  Sam didn't like to admit that, especially with the way things stood between them, but that's what had happened. "That's right."

  Jonas scratched his beard. "How's it going?"

  "Better than I expected."

  "You and Emma get along, do you?"

  "We get along just fine."

  "And the children?"

  "They're happy." Even with the hell the Howards were putting him through, he didn't want
to hurt them, but he had make sure the judge was aware of the way Emma cared for his children. "Emma is the best mother those children could have."

  Sam could almost physically feel the hatred radiating from the Howards, and as he cast a glance in their direction, Mrs. Howard wiped a tear from her eye, and he caught Winston consoling her by patting her arm.

  Jonas took a step back. "Sounds to me like there's a little more here than a marriage based on convenience. In fact, it seems to me you have some feelings for your wife."

  Sam paused, then gazed directly into Emma's eyes. "Yes, sir, I surely do."

  ***

  "How touching," Mr. Ambrose said a few minutes later as he began his cross-examination of Sam. "Two lovebirds and their cosy little family."

  It wasn't a question, only a comment made to sound as if their relationship was somehow ... dirty. Sam bristled, jamming his hands in his pockets to hide his clenched fists. Over and over, he clenched and released his hands, focusing on the movement to stop him from bounding out of the witness stand and pummelling the Howards' smug-faced attorney.

  "Let's get to the truth of the matter, shall we? Let's state the facts for the judge." He paused, sliding a glance to the judge to make sure he was paying attention. "Isn't it true you sent a telegram to Mr. and Mrs. Howard asking them to care for your children?"

  Damn! He should have known the Howards would have mentioned that. "It was only a temporary--"

  "Just answer the question. Yes or no. You asked them to raise your children."

  "Well ... yes ... but--"

  "They agreed?"

  Sam nodded. "That's right."

  "And if it hadn't been for a coincidental meeting with your wife at the train station, those children would be living in Boston right now, wouldn't they?"

  "Well ... I suppose so--"

  "Let's continue. Isn't it true you have a large mortgage at the bank?"

  "Yes."

  "When is the next payment due?"

  "In September."

  "Are you going to be able to make the payment at that time?"

  Jonas's voice boomed through the courtroom. "I object, Your Honor. This has no relevance--"

  "Oh, but it does," Ambrose contradicted. "The defendant's financial stability is critical."

  "Overruled," the judge ordered.

  "Tell me, Mr. Jenkins." The lawyer spoke smoothly, confidently. "If you can't pay your bills, isn't it common practice for the bank to foreclose on the property."

  "I suppose so ..."

  "Then how will you provide a home for the children?"

  Sam's voice quieted, but the pledge was clear. "I will, no matter what it takes."

  "Of course you will," the lawyer said in agreement, but Sam didn't miss the patronizing tone. "Like you provided for your poor wife?"

  Sam's face reddened. He hadn't been able to give Catherine what she needed, and the lawyer knew it.

  "Your first wife died, isn't that correct?"

  "Yes."

  "Was she ill, or did she have an accident?"

  "She got sick."

  "And what was the cause of her illness?"

  "We're not really sure."

  The lawyer's eyebrows arched. "You're not sure? How can you not be sure what happened to your own wife? What did the doctor say?"

  "She didn't see a doctor."

  "Why not?"

  "We couldn't afford a doctor."

  "You couldn't have paid him with a pig? Or even a chicken?"

  Sam recognized the lawyer's attempt to show him as a man who hadn't provided for his wife, so couldn't provide for his children. "Not then. But now--"

  "Didn't your wife ask to return to her family? And didn't you refuse?"

  Before Sam had a chance to answer, the lawyer continued on. "Perhaps if you'd permitted your wife to go home, she'd be alive today. Isn't that so?"

  A collective gasp filled the courtroom as Sam bounded out of the chair. He couldn't sit there and listen to the lawyer's accusations a minute longer. He'd lived with the guilt of Catherine's death since the day it happened, and he'd never be free of it. He sure didn't need some lawyer to remind him he was responsible. He opened his mouth to say just that, but before he had a chance to speak, the judge banged his gavel and shouted. "That's enough, Mr. Ambrose. Sit down, Mr. Jenkins."

  Sam glared at the lawyer, who had moved away and now leaned against the table, one hip resting on the corner and his arms folded across his chest. He was smiling, a sanctimonious grin that Sam was itching to remove from his face.

  The courtroom quieted.

  "I apologize, Mr. Jenkins. I didn't realize you were so sensitive," the lawyer gushed. "Are you able to continue, or should we ask for a short recess?"

  "I'm fine," Sam muttered. "Let's just get this over with."

  "Good. I only have a few more questions. How long have you and the current Mrs. Jenkins been married?"

  "Two months."

  "You testified you'd only known each other a few days before you married her, and that you're very happy."

  Sam nodded. "That's right."

  "And you also testified you have feelings for your wife?"

  Sam's gaze found Emma. "I do."

  "Are you trying to tell this court you've also fallen in love?"

  "I suppose I am."

  "Isn't that convenient?"

  "Look--"

  "But that's not the way it really is, is it?" the lawyer went on. "You and Mrs. Jenkins aren't the happily married couple you pretend to be at all, are you?"

  Sam's gaze flicked to Jonas, who was busy scribbling a note, a frown creasing his forehead. Keeping his voice steady, he said, "I don't know what you mean."

  "Oh, I think you do, Mr. Jenkins. In fact, I think you and Mrs. Jenkins concocted this whole scheme as a way to extort money from my clients in payment for these children."

  Chapter 17

  Jonas bounded out of his seat, the chair legs scraping across the wooden floor. Behind him, the spectators muttered amongst themselves. "Your Honor," he cried out, "this is preposterous. There is absolutely no basis for these accusations against my clients--"

  The Howards' lawyer smiled affably. "Your Honor, isn't it obvious? Mr. Jenkins, a practically destitute rancher, begs his deceased wife's parents to take over the care and upbringing of his children. Out of the goodness of their hearts, and because they love their grandchildren very much, they take pity on him and agree. They proceed to make travel arrangements for the children, open up rooms in their home, and have them accepted into the best schools, all with joyous anticipation of having their grandchildren with them. Then, without any warning, the defendant suddenly withdraws his request that my clients raise his children,and comes up with a new wife. Very convenient, isn't it?"

  The judge leaned forward and steepled his fingers. "That doesn't prove anything," he commented, but Sam could tell the judge was interested in what the lawyer had to say.

  "Mr. Jenkins has known my clients for many years. He is very well aware of how grief-stricken they were over the death of their daughter. He is also very well aware of how wealthy they are. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together. He knew how much my clients wanted those children, and it was a simple matter to come to the conclusion that they would pay - and pay handsomely - for them. Where Mrs. Jenkins fits into this plan, I'm not sure, but whether he concocted the plan himself or with the help of his--" He paused long enough to emphasize the word-- "wife, the two of them are in this together."

  The hushed murmurs in the courtroom grew louder. Sam's heart thundered against his ribs. The sounds buzzed around his head; the faces swam in his vision.

  Stop it! Think! Breathe!

  He'd never known rage such as this, and frankly, it terrified him. He couldn't think straight. His only thought was to knock the self-satisfied smirk from the lawyer's face.

  That would sure help, he thought sarcastically. I'd end up in jail, and the Howards would win after all.

  There was another w
ay to counter the lawyer's accusations, but how could he bring himself to admit to the world - and to himself - that he didn't need the Howards' money, because he'd married a woman who had an inheritance that could support them nicely. Since the day he'd discovered she was wealthy in her own right, he'd fought against using any of her money. And he'd continue to fight. A man provides for his family.

  Admitting in court that Emma was a rich woman would defend them against the lawyer's claim they were planning to extort money from the Howards. But at what cost? Nobody would believe he was supporting his family, and how could he hold his head high knowing his friends thought he'd married Emma for her money?

  "Nothing further, Your Honor."

  Sam's gaze was drawn to the lawyer. Behind him, Emma's eyes begged him to tell the truth. He slid a glance at the judge, who was scribbling madly, and his stomach roiled.

  He had no choice. He couldn't keep quiet, not when his children were at stake. It didn't matter what people thought of him, and if they had to leave Charity and start over somewhere else, he'd do that. But he couldn't sit quietly and let the judge believe what the lawyer was saying.

  "... that's all, Mr. Jenkins."

  "What?" Sam's gaze flew around the courtroom. "What?"

  "You may step down," the judge said.

  "But I have to tell you--"

  The judge leaned closer. "Mr. Jenkins, you had an opportunity to respond to Mr. Ambrose. You chose not to. Now please step down."

  "Wait a minute--"

  "One more word and I'll find you in contempt of this court. Now sit down."

  Sam clamped his lips shut and trudged across the room. He caught Emma's look of disbelief as he slid into his chair.

  He was going to lose his children. Because of his infernal pride, because he'd hesitated until it was too late ...

  Tears welled up in Sam's eyes, and he ran his hands roughly across them. He wasn't going to break down. Not here. Not now.

  The judge was speaking. "We'll meet here again at two o'clock on Thursday afternoon. I'll have my decision then."