And then he began to sing. A hoarse, gravelly sound. Not unpleasant any more than the sound of water bubbling over rocks in a sun-warmed stream was unpleasant. She’d heard him sing silly songs to Ellie. Heard him whistle while he worked, or walked away from her house. But hearing him sing in church, while sitting next to her, joined by a narrow eight inches of book…
Her throat tightened, and she couldn’t get out the words of the hymn. She coughed discreetly. Let the others think a tickle in her throat had choked her voice.
Throughout the service she was acutely aware of Emmet. His solidness. The warmth of his almost-touching body. The silent in and out of his breath. Her own twitching nerves.
She forced her attention to the sermon. Heard every word, but for the life of her couldn’t have repeated a one of them.
By the time the last “amen” had been uttered, the final benediction offered, the last relaxed sigh of the congregation released, Louisa felt ready to explode from her skin. But she calmly rose when the others did. Nodded and smiled at Emmet as if he were one of their old, familiar neighbors sharing the pew, and made her way demurely after him to the aisle.
He stepped aside to let the Morgan ladies go ahead of him.
Sally paused, turned. “You’ll be out right away? Or do you want a ride with us?”
“I’ll be out in a few minutes. I need to let Auntie May know where I’m going. Just in case she needs me.” He shifted his gaze between Sally and Louisa.
Louisa told herself she didn’t see a flicker of hesitation. As if he’d guessed at her uncertainty and hoped she’d echo Sally’s invitation. But she couldn’t. She dare not admit to anyone, including herself, how much she wished she could put her arm through his and draw him into her family circle.
“We’ll see you in a little while then?”
Emmet nodded agreement to Sally’s question. Outside he strode down the street without a backward look.
Sally pulled Louisa toward the car. Mother lingered, talking to Mr. Roberts. No doubt asking after his wife and the new baby.
“I’ve never known you to be so rude.”
Louisa stared at her sister. “I was not rude.”
“Would it have hurt you to extend just a hint of welcome to the man?”
Louisa pursed her lips. “Did you ever think I might not want him spending Sunday afternoon with us? Do you know how hard it is to see him every day, be constantly reminded that I can never have—” She wouldn’t say she could never have him. “What he represents.”
“That’s your choice. No one said you had to turn into a prune-faced spinster. Why you’ve closed your heart to the possibility of love without once giving a man the chance to decide if he is willing to accept you as you are is beyond me.”
Pain sliced through Louisa’s insides, leaving a trail of tears. “Sally, I’ve never known you to be cruel like this.”
Sally sighed. “Louisa, I am not being cruel. Only pointing out that you might have closed the door prematurely.”
“You’ve heard him yourself.” She could manage only a tight whisper. “You know he wants more children.”
“You don’t have to fall in love with him. But it doesn’t mean you have to shut yourself up in a cold casket either.”
Louisa could not speak. Could barely remember how to breathe. No, she didn’t have to fall in love with him.
How she wished she hadn’t.
Sally grabbed her arm. “Mother is coming. Put on a happy face. We’re going to go home and enjoy the afternoon with friends and family. You think you can manage that?”
“Of course.” Friends and family. She had to remember it was nothing more.
Emmet changed his mind about going to the Morgans a dozen times after he left the church. For days he’d been aware of constraint between himself and Louisa. It was his fault. No doubt she felt he’d put her off by refusing to talk about his parents. But he finally concluded it would be rude not to show up.
So he told Auntie May and Ellie where he’d be. Laughed at the way they obviously wanted him to hurry and leave. He caught a glimpse of dandelions, cats and something red and furry on the bed. They expected Leila to appear soon. “I’d have brought her from church if you told me.”
Ellie shook her head. “You weren’t supposed to come back until supper time. It’s your day off.”
Emmet couldn’t decide if he appreciated that the pair had schemed to allow him to be away for the afternoon, or if he felt suddenly useless.
But at least he could join the Morgans and Kirks without feeling he neglected his duties. He decided to walk, hoping the time and activity would enable him to discipline his thoughts into submission.
His stride ate up the miles, but when he headed up the lane toward the house, his steps slowed. An afternoon of adult company sounded fine, though he thought only of one person—Louisa. But—he threw back his shoulders—he could spend a relaxing afternoon without forgetting all his hard-learned life lessons.
Mrs. Morgan waited in the open doorway as he approached. “We’re always glad to have another young man join us. Poor Judd is sadly outnumbered, I fear.”
“Not a problem for me.” Judd stepped from the kitchen. “Though I admit I am sometimes baffled by the reasoning of the female mind.”
Remembering Louisa, Leila and Ellie hiding something in an underwear drawer, Emmet laughed. “I’ve known the same confusion from time to time.” He glanced past Judd’s shoulder. Saw Louisa watching him. Caught a flash of awareness in her eyes before she ducked away to put a dish on the table. Dare he hope that somewhere inside, she allowed a tender feeling toward him?
“Come in. Dinner is ready.”
He knew a jolt of gratitude that Sally’s words prevented him from following that errant thought any further.
Sally waved him to a chair. The others took their places. Sally at one end of the table, Mrs. Morgan at the other. Judd and Madge side by side across from him. And to his left, Louisa. He wanted to glance at her, watch her face for hints as to how she felt.
He’d been so aware of her at his side during the church service that it was downright annoying. He could barely get his lungs to work for the tension of each moment.
So what, his brain mocked, are you doing here? Hoping to become immune to her?
Mrs. Morgan asked Judd to say the blessing. The food was passed. Simple, plain food, but more than adequate. Many survived—existed—on far less. The other day in the store, he’d heard terrible stories of people eating unusual things to keep themselves alive. One family had nothing but turnips to see them through the winter.
“Clara didn’t come to church.” Sally passed mashed potatoes to Emmet. “I wonder if her mother is doing poorly.”
Mrs. Morgan answered her. “Mrs. Roberts is feeling better, according to her husband, and the baby is doing well.”
“I suppose Clara is simply busy.” Sally seemed content with the observation and the conversation shifted to other things, like who had moved on and what people were doing to cope.
Emmet hated to think of Louisa and her family struggling against the challenges of the drought and depression, and yet they didn’t complain, only expressed concern for others.
“I bought four cows and calves.” Judd was obviously pleased with his acquisition. “The man said he’d had enough of trying to eke out a living in this country and was headed west. Figured he could find work at the coast.”
Emmet couldn’t help but wonder how he would feed the critters, so he asked. Judd went into a very detailed account of his plans.
Madge sighed. “You should have never asked him. Honey, tell Emmet about how you worked on a ranch in the foothills.” She grinned at Louisa, and the girls shared a moment of amusement.
Judd rattled his lips. “You’re mocking me.” His expression, though, said he considered it a privilege that his wife would tease him. He shifted his attention to Emmet. “I’ll tell you later if you’re interested. Madge, tell them about your baby chicks.”
&nb
sp; She leaned forward and explained in great detail how she’d put fourteen eggs to set and had ten healthy chicks.
Judd chuckled and whispered across the table, “If you think that’s a lot of information, then don’t ask about her garden.”
Madge broke off midsentence. “Now who is mocking who?”
“Whom.” Louisa corrected, and everyone but Emmet laughed.
Louisa broke off. “Sorry. I guess it’s silly to a spectator, but we play these little games with each other.”
“Speaking of games.” Judd glanced around the table. “How about croquet after the dishes are done?”
“You’re on.” The three girls leaped to their feet and began gathering up the dishes.
Mrs. Morgan started putting things away, but Louisa caught her about the waist. “Mother, we have lots of help. You go nap and read your book.”
Mrs. Morgan smiled at each of them. “I don’t mind if I do.”
Before she made it to her room, Madge whipped a tea towel around Judd’s waist and secured it in his waistband. “You’re the chief bottle washer.”
Louisa tossed Emmet a towel. “Why don’t you be the chief drier?”
Judd rolled his eyes. “They think they can soften us up so we’ll be nice to them.”
Madge planted her hands on her hips. “I believe you are my partner. Wasn’t that part of our wedding vows?”
Another burst of shared laughter. This time Emmet joined in. He glanced at Louisa to gauge her reaction. Their eyes met. The air between them seemed to shift and buckle like shimmering heat waves. He forgot all his good intentions. He forgot to check the locks on his heart. He—
“Hey, Emmet. You going to dry this?” Judd nudged him, bringing him back to his senses. He carefully checked to make certain all the bolts were in place on those invisible doors as he turned away from Louisa’s dark eyes and concentrated on drying dishes.
They finished up and carried a croquet set outside. Sally handed mallets to everyone. “Judd and Madge can challenge Louisa and Emmet. I’ll be the referee.”
“Referee? What kind of rules do you follow?” He’d played croquet a few times. One of the neighbors at his ranch liked the game and often invited others to join. It seemed like a gentle game to him.
“You haven’t seen Judd play yet.”
“Me?” Judd clutched at his chest. “I am a superb player.”
The girls chortled.
Louisa fell in at Emmet’s side. “I better warn you, Judd always has to win.”
“Judd thinks he’s superior because he’s a man.” Madge sounded as if it was a dreadful fate.
“I’m just a better player.” Judd gloated, bringing another burst of denial from the girls.
Louisa leaned closer to Emmet to whisper, “Sounds like someone needs a little competition.”
Emmet shifted so his mouth was close to her ears. So he could breathe in the sweetness of her. “We might just give him what he needs.” And who—a distant voice demanded—would give him what he needed? He straightened. Forced the traitorous question into the back regions of his mind.
She laughed and took her place at the start. “Let the game begin.”
Within minutes, it was obvious Judd had only one goal in mind—win by any means. Emmet was equally intent on proving his worth as an opponent. Sally was kept busy calling fair or foul and admonishing Judd to play by the rules.
After each turn Louisa and Madge stood back to watch Judd go after Emmet’s ball, roqueting it out of the play area.
Emmet retrieved his ball and returned it to the imaginary yard line. “I hope you never decide I’m an enemy. You would stop at nothing to destroy me.”
Sally warned Judd to stay within the boundaries.
Judd snorted. “I don’t need to bend the rules to win. I’m just a better player.” He swung his mallet with enough force to make Louisa shudder.
Emmet almost grabbed her to keep her safe from this attack. But the violence was restricted to the ball.
Judd leaned back, gloating.
“You’ve obviously had more practice, which doesn’t equate to being better.” Emmet lined up his shot and returned his ball to the playing area with precision. Only it encountered a lump in the rough yard and veered off course.
“Too bad,” Louisa said. “But we’ll still win.”
Judd scoffed. “Not likely. Hurry up, Madge.”
Madge sighed. “Louisa, I don’t know why we’re even playing. If these two want to go at each other, let them.” She backed away, indicating she withdrew.
Louisa hesitated. Emmet wanted her to continue playing as his partner. He liked the sense that they fought a common enemy. Did she enjoy working together as much as he did? But Judd grinned at him—though it would better be described as a mocking sneer.
Louisa retreated to Madge’s side. “This ought to be fun. I can’t wait to see Judd defeated.”
Emmet’s chest seemed to grow several inches at her support of him.
“I wouldn’t be counting my chickens before they hatch,” Madge warned, which brought a burst of laughter from her sisters.
“You know a lot about hatching chickens, after all,” Sally teased.
Louisa watched Emmet, her silent encouragement filling him with determination. She cheered as he played, sending his ball through a wicket.
Judd followed with a nasty hit. Emmet shook his head in mock sadness. “Where did you learn to be so competitive?”
“From my brothers.”
As the pair continued to play, Judd explained. “Brothers teach you to play a game well. Then they teach you how to defend yourself.” Wham—on Emmet’s ball. “Then they teach you how to defeat your opponent.”
Emmet knocked his ball back in. “You don’t need brothers to learn how to play hard and fair.”
“Nope.” Wham again. “But without brothers, it seems to me you have a choice about how you play a game. With brothers, you don’t.”
“Don’t we always have a choice about our actions?” He felt as if he was parroting something Louisa said, and he glanced in her direction.
Her eyes said she recognized the echo of her beliefs. For a moment their gazes held in an invisible bond, then Louisa turned away and wrapped her arm about Madge’s waist. “I can see it’s much better to have sisters. We are always so kind and helpful to each other.”
“Yes, indeed.” Madge placed her arm around Louisa’s waist and giggled.
“I’m certainly glad for a family of girls.” Judd came over and gave Madge a quick kiss. “Especially the middle sister.” He returned to the game.
In the end, Judd won…by sheer determination, Emmet figured.
“I’ll give you a chance to win the next round.” Judd seemed eager to have another go.
Emmet handed the mallet to Sally and held his hands up in mock defeat. “I concede.”
Judd did a victory dance and shook his hands together over his head.
Madge groaned. “It wouldn’t hurt you to be a little humble about it.”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
Emmet turned away. Their love was so apparent. He’d tried love once. But he’d failed as a husband. He hadn’t been able to protect Jane, keep her safe. Part of him wanted to yell a warning to these people. Love hurts. But perhaps they would be spared the grief he’d known.
Judd grabbed Madge’s hand. “Mrs. Kirk, let’s you and I walk home across the fields. What do you think of that idea?” The adoring smile blessed Madge with his love and devotion and left Emmet feeling alone and cranky.
Madge beamed her love back at Judd. “Whatever you say, Mr. Kirk.” She ducked her head in mock submission, then laughed as they raced toward home.
Sally yawned. “I have a book to read.”
That left Louisa and Emmet stranded in the yard. “Shall we go for a walk?” He half expected her to demur, but instead she turned toward the trail that led past the barn and he readily fell in at her side.
The sun shone brightly.
The sky spread out from horizon to horizon like an unbroken blue canvas. All in all, a beautiful afternoon. He didn’t mind in the least sharing it with a beautiful woman.
“I’ve enjoyed the afternoon.”
“I’m glad. I was afraid you might find my family overwhelming.”
“Not at all.” They paused to lean on a wooden gate. “You have what I’ve always wanted.”
She looked as surprised as if he’d announced he carried rain in his back pocket. “Really? I can’t imagine.”
“Family. Siblings.” His voice had thickened, but he couldn’t help it. “I always felt lonely growing up alone.” Abandoned.
She looked away, her gaze seeking the far edge of the field. “You know what I want?”
“No. What?” Whatever it was, he wished he could give it to her.
She paused for a beat. Two. Shuddered as if a chill had raced across her shoulders. She tried to speak, but her voice caught.
It obviously meant a lot to her. And his heart softened with such a protective urge that it was all he could do not to pull her into his arms and hold her close, keep her safe.
“For it to rain.” Her voice rang with determination. “I pray for it every single day.”
He knew without a doubt that wasn’t what she’d started to say. Disappointment stained his insides. What was she afraid to admit she needed? For that matter, what made him think he could do anything about it? Keep her safe? What a bitter thought. He couldn’t keep anyone safe.
She faced him squarely with a look of such fierce determination that he blinked. “We have no choice but to trust God. He will supply all our needs.”
He wondered if she meant simply rain—or the lack of it—but her faith blared through him, seared away doubts.
“I do believe that.” As he had never before believed.
Chapter Eleven
Louisa managed to walk back to the house with Emmet. Somehow bid him goodbye. Her lungs felt as tight as when she’d had pneumonia. Only she knew it was shock and sorrow, and her struggle to contain them, that caused her distress. She tiptoed into the house, not wanting anyone to see her. Her sister and mother knew her too well not to notice how stiff her face was as she held back her emotions. But the house was quiet. Mother must still be in her room, and Sally was likely reading in her room as well. She’d do the same, and she stumbled upstairs, Mouse whining at her heels.
Linda Ford - [Three Brides, Three Cowboys 02] Page 12