Christmas in Whispering Pines

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Christmas in Whispering Pines Page 18

by Scarlett Dunn


  Chapter Eighteen

  It had been a long, nerve-wracking twenty-four hours, and Emma and Clay were both quiet on the trip home. Clay was disappointed with himself that he couldn’t seem to find a way to let go of the past. He told himself even if he could, he still had doubts that a woman like Emma would marry him when she could marry a prince.

  Emma broke the silence when she asked why Clay asked Culpepper about horses.

  Clay told her about Moonrise, and how much he loved that horse. He’d looked for Moonrise in every town he rode through for four years. “I always thought I would find her one day.”

  They were only a mile from Whispering Pines when Clay heard horses behind him. He pulled to a halt and picked up his rifle.

  Emma turned around and recognizing the riders, she said, “It’s Henri and his guards.”

  The prince did say he would come to Whispering Pines today, and Clay had to give him credit. He’d wasted no time leaving Denver this morning. Clay thought if he had a real chance with Emma, he would do whatever he could to win her hand. He nearly dropped the reins when he realized what he was thinking. He wanted Emma, and that thought made his heart feel whole again. He had to find a way to tuck the past away so he could live again. Logically he knew there was nothing he could have done that day when his wife and son were killed. He’d been out on the range just like every other day. Still, he’d blamed himself, and for all of the years that followed that day, he hadn’t allowed himself to think about finding happiness again.

  He glanced at Emma and saw she was watching Henri, but he couldn’t tell by her expression what she was thinking. She didn’t look happy to see him, but then, she didn’t look unhappy. It would be a tall order to compete with a prince, but if Emma offered a single word of encouragement, he’d do whatever it took to win her heart.

  “You almost beat us home,” Emma said when Henri reined in at the buckboard.

  Henri looked surprised. “You mean you are just now arriving?”

  “Yes, the snowstorm forced us to stop,” Emma replied.

  “I saw no place to lodge on our ride,” Henri said.

  “It was an abandoned cabin we happened upon.” Emma wasn’t going to lie to him, but she saw the disapproving look on his face. “We had no choice. We couldn’t see where we were going, and if we’d stayed out in the snow we would have frozen to death.”

  “Of course.” Henri looked at Clay and said, “Thank you for seeing to Emma’s welfare. As you can tell, she is very special to me.”

  Clay understood Henri’s feelings. “As she is to me.”

  Emma was surprised by Clay’s admission. “Henri, you can follow us to the hotel.”

  They reached the hotel, and when Henri invited Emma to dine with him, she said. “Henri, why don’t you come to the ranch for dinner? I’m very tired and I don’t think I will feel like coming back to town. It was a long night, and I can tell you all about it over dinner. There’s plenty of room at the ranch, and if it snows you can plan to spend the night.”

  As much as Clay thought he shouldn’t object to Emma offering the prince lodging in the event of bad weather, he didn’t like the idea of him staying under the same roof with her. Not that he expected anything inappropriate would take place. He’d been alone with her in the cabin, and it was perfectly innocent. The memory of him kissing her palm flashed through his mind. He wasn’t sure why he had made such a bold move, but he was glad he did.

  “I do not want to be a burden to your family,” Henri said.

  Good, Clay thought, Henri was a gentleman.

  “You will not be a burden,” Emma said. “We’d love to have you join us.”

  Clay thought Emma seemed very eager to have Henri come for dinner. She must be more interested than she’d admitted. He was a prince, he reminded himself. That kind of attention would turn any woman’s head.

  Henri pulled his horse close to the buckboard and reached for Emma’s hand. He brushed a kiss over her gloved hand. “In that case, I will be delighted to accept your invitation.”

  Uncharitably Clay wanted to click the horses and run Henri over. The only reason he didn’t was because he was the pastor, but if Henri had kissed her palm the way he did, he might have forgotten that minor point.

  “We’ll expect you by seven,” Emma said.

  As Clay was preparing to pull away, one of his parishioners, Bob Reed, rode next to the buckboard. “Pastor, there were a few of us waiting for you at the church this morning.”

  Clay opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. With everything that had transpired that morning, he’d totally forgotten it was Sunday. “Bob, I’m sorry. Emma and I were caught in the snowstorm last night coming home from Denver. We were forced to stay in one of the abandoned cabins along the trail.”

  Bob’s expression went from sociable to judgmental in a split second. “What were you doing in Denver?”

  “Emma had a performance there last night.” Clay didn’t feel more of an explanation was in order.

  “Are you telling me that you and this”—Bob flung a hand in Emma’s direction as he continued—“woman . . . spent an entire night alone together?”

  Clay dropped the reins in his lap. “Now, Bob, don’t make it sound like it was a situation that could have been avoided.”

  Bob gave a loud harrumph. “It could have been avoided if you didn’t patronize a place like that saloon in Denver in the first place. Here we are waiting on our pastor for our Sunday sermon while you’re holed up with some . . .”

  Clay landed him with a look that said he was treading on thin ice. “Watch yourself, Bob. This is not the time or place to have this discussion.”

  Bob sneered at Emma. “We’ll see about this. I will be talking to the other folks about this situation today. I don’t know what kind of pastor would take up with the likes of a woman who sings in a saloon. You may not be the right man for our church.” Bob turned his horse and rode away.

  “Oh, Clay, I’m sorry,” Emma said.

  “Why is that man upset? I do not understand,” Henri said.

  Clay didn’t understand it either. Of course, he knew nothing inappropriate happened. But if he looked at the situation from Bob’s perspective, it was reasonable to question why a logical-thinking pastor managed to get himself in such a quandary. “Folks out here take a dim view of a man and a woman spending the night alone in a cabin if they are not married.”

  “But it could not be helped, no?”

  “No, we had no alternative. There was a blizzard and we couldn’t see the trail. It was too dangerous to travel,” Clay replied.

  “You know this will be the gossip for a week or more,” Emma said.

  “Don’t let it worry you.” Clay didn’t like the way Bob had looked at Emma. He was going to ride to Bob’s place and have a talk with him as soon as he left Morgan’s ranch.

  * * *

  Granny invited Clay to have lunch before he rode back to town. As he was leaving, Morgan rode in and Clay met him in the stable. “Did you have any problems?”

  “Not a bit. Culpepper and Taggart were as meek as little lambs,” Morgan replied. “Clay, I’m real sorry you had to run into those two killers. I know it couldn’t have been easy for you.”

  “Morgan, to tell you the truth, it was almost a blessing to know I didn’t want to kill them.”

  Morgan saw the relief in his eyes. “Good. You’re a good man, Clay. You’ve nothing to worry about on that score.” Morgan removed his saddle and hoisted it on a rail. “Anything of import happen between you and Emma?”

  Clay shook his head. “I thought I would express my feelings for her, but I couldn’t seem to let go of Violet. Then the strangest thing happened.”

  “What’s that?”

  Clay told him about Henri being in town and Emma inviting him to dinner tonight. “When she was talking to Henri, I knew he wasn’t the right man for her. I decided then and there that I would give Henri a run for his money.”

  “I think that m
eans you need to come to dinner tonight,” Morgan said.

  “Emma told Henri if the weather turns, he can spend the night. You may have a full house.”

  “There’s enough room. You don’t want him here alone with her, do you?” Morgan thought if there was another man vying for Rose’s attention, he’d definitely spend the night.

  “No, I don’t. But do you think she would turn down a proposal from a prince?”

  “Granny is convinced she wants to stay in Whispering Pines, so I’d say the odds are stacked in your favor.”

  Clay looked skeptical. “Look at the kind of life she could have married to Henri.”

  “It doesn’t matter. If your heart is not in it, all the money in the world won’t make a difference.”

  Morgan had a point, but he thought a woman as worldly as Emma might look at things differently. “He seems like a decent fellow.”

  “I’m sure he is. Do you like him so much that you want him to take Emma with him?”

  Clay laughed. “Point made. I’ll come to dinner.”

  “Prepare to spend the night.” Morgan looked up at the sky. “It’s going to snow some more.”

  “That’ll give the townsfolk even more to talk about.” Clay told Morgan about the conversation with Bob. “I’m going to go talk to him now. He was rude to Emma, and I won’t stand for that. I may not be the pastor of the church after today.”

  “Nonsense. Bob Reed is worse than an old gossipy woman. Did you tell Granny about this?”

  “No. I didn’t want her to feel like she had to take my side. She’s done enough for me, and I can handle Bob. If he doesn’t change his mind after I quote some scripture, then I’ll give him a gentle squeeze of the shoulder until he sees things my way.”

  Morgan barked with laughter. “I wondered what that squeeze of the shoulder was supposed to do.”

  Clay laughed with him. “I tried it on you, but it didn’t work. Your shoulders are too thick.”

  “I thought a gnat landed on me,” Morgan teased.

  “You’d best be thankful God didn’t add His muscle to mine. I guarantee Bob won’t think a gnat landed on him.”

  The determined look on Clay’s face convinced Morgan that Clay was really upset over Bob’s attitude toward Emma. “Don’t let him get to you.”

  “I thought my last sermon made an impact on people passing judgment. It’s disappointing.”

  “You’ve heard the saying about old dogs and new tricks. You just have to keep reminding us to be better men.”

  * * *

  By the time Clay made it back to Morgan’s that night, he was tired and grouchy. His meeting with Bob had not gone well, and some of the other parishioners in town had given him the cold shoulder. To top off the frustrating day, Leigh King had cornered him on the sidewalk. In passing, he mentioned seeing Frank at the Grand Crystal Palace with Ruth. Leigh asked him if he would take her to Denver. He politely declined, telling her that he didn’t think that was a good idea. He wasn’t worried about what Frank would say; he was more worried about what Emma would think.

  Leigh had tucked her arm through his just as two of the church members passed by. Clay figured this inopportune encounter would be the icing on the cake with his congregation. He’d already decided that he wasn’t going to worry about being forced from his position. If that happened, he’d go back to Kansas, sell his ranch, and bring Jonas to Whispering Pines and buy a new place. He didn’t question why he would come back to Whispering Pines; this was where he wanted to build his life. He considered Morgan and Jack good friends, and he loved Granny. Then there was Emma. He was interested to see how she interacted with the prince tonight. It might give him some insight as to her feelings for him. It bothered him to think that she might care for the prince, but if she did, he would never interfere by confessing his feelings.

  Morgan answered the door when Clay knocked. “He’s been here almost an hour.”

  “Good evening to you, too,” Clay said.

  “Henri’s in the kitchen making headway with Emma while you’re taking your sweet time,” Morgan responded.

  Clay removed his hat and hung it on a hook. “Morgan, if she wants him, there’s not much I can do to compete with a prince.”

  Morgan shook his head at Clay. “I can’t believe you would give up that easy. If you think she’s worth it, then you’ve got to put in some effort.”

  “If she already cares about him, why should I interfere?”

  Morgan removed Clay’s hat from the hook and shoved it at him. “Fine. You’re right. You have no reason to at least find out the lay of the land. Just get on with living like you have been. Don’t take a chance.”

  The two men stood there looking at each other for a few seconds, until Clay took his hat and hung it back on the hook. “You’re right. Let’s eat.”

  Morgan slapped him hard on the shoulder. “Now you’re talking. I hope you’re hungry. If you remember correctly, Rose picked me because I could eat more flapjacks than you.” Everyone knew Morgan liked to tell that story, but in all truth Rose was already in love with Morgan before the two men engaged in an eating contest. Morgan saw it as a contest of wills, and there was no way he was going to lose if it made him look bad in Rose’s eyes. He wanted to see if Clay had the same fortitude when it came to winning Emma’s affection.

  “I keep telling you I wasn’t in a contest that morning. If I had known, you would have lost, hands down,” Clay teased.

  Morgan grinned. “Why don’t we see if the prince can keep up tonight? I have a feeling the prince doesn’t know the way to a woman’s heart.”

  Clay laughed at Morgan’s plan. “Do you really think women are impressed by the amount of food a man eats?”

  Morgan looked at him as if he’d just uttered sacrilegious words. “Yes. It tells them they did a fine job preparing the meal. It would be an insult to pick at your food like a bird. You want to compliment them, don’t you?”

  “Why can’t I just say that was a fine meal?” Clay knew he’d forgotten how to impress a woman.

  “Aren’t you the one always saying people should read their Bibles and not just listen to what it says? Put your words into action, eat heartily and tell her it was a fine meal.” Morgan leaned to his ear and whispered, “Just so you know, Emma’s cooking the chicken.”

  Clay figured he wasn’t one to argue with Morgan. After all, his friend had a beautiful wife and a happy marriage, so it seemed logical he knew how to capture a woman’s heart. Clay reminded himself he’d done it once, he could do it again. “Lead me to the lion’s den.”

  * * *

  Instead of sitting beside Emma like Henri, Clay was seated opposite the couple. And that’s what they looked like to him: the happy couple. He couldn’t help but notice how comfortable they were with each other, indicating they’d spent a lot of time together in France. Emma was giving Henri her undivided attention.

  He decided to take Morgan’s advice and enjoy the meal, and he even had a second helping of everything on the table. He didn’t need to worry about outeating Henri; the man ate less than the women. But Clay had to hand it to the prince. While he was shoveling food in his mouth, Henri was the one talking with Emma. Naturally the whole family seemed taken with the prince, and why not? He was a foreigner, and the women seemed to find his accent charming, as well as his stories about his home country. Clay wasn’t able to get a word in edgewise with all of their questions. He figured the only thing in his favor was Sweetie, who hadn’t left his side since he walked through the door. Henri may have Emma’s attention right now, but Clay definitely had the affection of her dog. To make certain Sweetie didn’t desert him, he slid chunks of his chicken to him every few minutes.

  “Clay, you’ve been very quiet tonight,” Granny said.

  “I’m just enjoying this fine meal. This is the best fried chicken I’ve ever eaten.”

  Granny beamed with delight. “Emma prepared the chicken.”

  Clay glanced at Emma to make sure she was liste
ning to their conversation.

  Emma was staring at him. “I think Sweetie has enjoyed it as much as you have.”

  So much for giving Henri her undivided attention. She had been watching him feed Sweetie under the table, and that thought gave him some hope. Clay arched a brow at her. “I don’t want him going hungry.”

  Emma laughed. “There’s no danger of Sweetie going hungry.”

  “You’re a fine cook, Emma,” Clay said.

  “Thank you.”

  “If she accepts my proposal, she would never have to cook. She will have servants at her beck and call,” Henri said.

  Emma’s eyes widened at Henri’s comment. “Henri, we haven’t discussed this.” She noticed everyone had stopped eating, and they seemed to be waiting for some sort of explanation or announcement.

  Henri smiled and reached for her hand. “I know there is much to discuss, my dear, but I’m merely saying you will have a palace full of servants. Your life will change if you decide to accept my hand in marriage.”

  Emma pulled her hand away. She was aggravated that he had put her in a position of offering an explanation to her family. He’d arrived too early for dinner and pressed her to talk with him a few minutes before she started cooking. He’d told her that he had traveled to Denver specifically to ask for her hand. The only reason he hadn’t made a formal proposal was he thought it was customary to speak with Granny first, as she was the senior family member. Emma politely attempted to discourage a conversation of a forthcoming marriage proposal, but Henri persisted. Finally, she told him they would discuss the topic later when they had more time. She thought he deserved to be heard since he’d traveled so far, and by postponing the discussion, it would give her time to think of a way to politely refuse. “Please everyone, finish eating. Henri and I have much to discuss, but I’m afraid now is not the appropriate time.”

 

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