Dear Emily

by Fern Michaels

  It was a wonderful kitchen, sunny and warm with green plants tucked into corners and on the windowsill. Copper that needed to be shined hung from long chains hooked into the rafters as did net bags of garlic and herbs. The cushions on the burled oak table and chairs were bright red and matched the placemats, which were old and worn.

  A braided rug rested by the sink, another by the stove. Notes and memos were plastered all over the front of the refrigerator. And on all the walls were framed petit point pictures. The kitchen held two, one a bowl of striking red apples, another of lemons and limes next to a pitcher of lemonade. The ones in the living room were different, more personal. A sailboat with figures of four people. A family. Matt’s family. Another of a little boy and girl playing ball in the yard. Emily felt something catch in her throat. This family lived with their memories the way she had.

  “The bedrooms are just bedrooms. Kind of messy. How do you like my deck? Ivan helped me build it.”

  “Oh, it’s wonderful. What a magnificent view. It takes your breath away. You must love it here very much.”

  “I do. I don’t think I could ever live anywhere else.”

  He’s making a statement, Emily thought. Warning me ahead of time that this is where he belongs.

  “Who’s Al Roker?” Matt asked quietly.

  “Why do you want to know?” Emily asked, flustered with the question.

  “Ivan said that when he found you, you thought he was Al Roker. I’m asking you who he is.”

  Emily laughed, a nervous sound even to her own ears. “I thought there, right before Ivan found me, that I was becoming delirious. At first I thought he was a Sasquatch. Then I thought he was Al Roker. Back home I always watched the five o’clock news and weather when I could. He’s the weatherman and he’s always talking about his Doppler radar. I don’t even know what Doppler radar means. When I saw Ivan I thought it was Roker with the Doppler radar strapped to his back. I didn’t know if I was dreaming…I don’t know what I thought. I was scared out of my wits.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “What does uh-huh mean, Matt? Are you trying to ask me something without actually coming out and asking me. Like, is there a man in my life or something like that?”

  Matt’s head bobbed up and down. “Something like that. Is there?”

  “Yes and no. I have a very good friend back home. We have an understanding of sorts. He’s free to do as he pleases and so am I. We get along well. He has no real baggage and I don’t either. He’s seen me through some rough times. He’s a very good friend. What about you?”

  “No, no one. I don’t know why that is,” he said.

  “I think I might be able to give you a clue,” Emily said quietly.

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Yeah. Your living room is like a shrine to your wife. I just walked through it and I counted twenty-four pictures, nine on the mantel, two or three on every table, several on the wall, not to mention the needlework pictures. It’s the same thing here in the kitchen. I would imagine it intimidates women if you bring them here.”

  “Does it intimidate you, Emily?”

  “Very much so. I could never kiss you here, or if we ever decided to go to bed, it can’t be in this house.”

  “The kids…”

  “The kids should have the pictures in their rooms. You should have one too. There comes a time, Matt, when you have to put it all away if you want to get on with your life. If you’re happy looking at the pictures, happy with your memories, then you don’t have to do anything. This is just my opinion. Am I still invited for supper?”

  “Yes. Of course. I don’t really bring women here, Emily. Perhaps one or two, but they were really just friends. They were a little jittery now that I think about it.”

  “Can I set the table?”

  “End of discussion, right?”

  “Right.” Emily smiled.

  He was clumsy, but at home in the kitchen. Emily sat in her chair and fought the urge to offer to help, knowing instinctively he wanted to perform for her.

  “I’ll never be a renowned chef,” Matt said, dropping spaghetti into the boiling water.

  “Guess what, I’m never going to be a trail blazer either. We each have to accept little things like that in life.”

  “You’re funny. I like that. Not too many people have a sense of humor.”

  “I used to be as dry as year-old mud. I’ve been involved in a steady learning process for the past few years. Life’s just too damn short to dwell on the past, even yesterday for that matter. It’s gone. What’s that saying, the past is prologue, something like that? What do you want to be when you grow up, Matt?” she teased.

  “A caring human being. Bet you thought I was going to say a fireman. How about you?”

  “I met my goals. I guess I want to do something…meaningful. Hopefully, all the bad times are behind me. This portion of my life is important to me. Whatever I do has to do with who I am now. One of the sisters put the idea into my head, but I happen to think she’s right when she said God had a design for me. He got me this far and now I have to figure out what He wants me to do. One of these days I’m going to figure it out.”

  “How long are you staying at the retreat?”

  “I’m not sure. It’s kind of open for me. Certainly as long as Rosie stays. The sisters said I could stay as long as I want. Hey, I may never leave.”

  “Gets pretty cold here in the winter.”

  “It’s cold in New Jersey too,” Emily said, her voice neutral-sounding. “The reason your sauce is so watery is because you aren’t letting the spaghetti drain and I never rinse mine.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah. And the vinegar in the salad contributes to the wateriness of the sauce. I thought chefs, even good cooks, liked criticism.”

  “Not this cook. Eat.”

  “Tell me about your kids, Matt.”

  “Benjy’s twelve. He’s a good kid. Into sports. He does well in school if I keep after him. He loves the outdoors as much as I do. He looks just like his mother. He has her temper too, I’m sorry to say. Molly is like me. She’s easygoing, pretty. She doesn’t think she’s pretty, though. She’s fourteen and she has definitely discovered boys. I think the phone is growing out of her ear. She accepted her mother’s death very well. Benjy had a lot of problems we had to work through.

  “They both worry about me. Back then…they were afraid every time I left the house that I wouldn’t come back. They’re very close. I’ve never had to really deal with the problem of another woman. I don’t really know what their reaction will be. I guess that sounds like I’m giving you a warning.”

  Emily nodded. “Forewarned is forearmed, that kind of thing? This is…not exactly hypothetical, but what if we do…start to see each other and the children don’t like or approve of me? What happens then?”

  “I don’t know, Emily.”

  “I don’t know then if I can let myself be open to something like that. I like you, I feel attracted to you. I liked it when you kissed me. But I don’t need any more heartache in my life, Matt. It’s taken me a long time to get where I am.” Her pulse was beating so fast she was sure he could see it bouncing up and down. “Why don’t we go back to being friends. Let’s not plan anything and that way…”

  Matt leaned across the table. “Listen to me, Emily. I take my relationships seriously. My body is telling me I want to go to bed with you and I think your body is telling you the same thing. Now, that’s the physical side of things. We can deal with that when the time comes. I like you. I find myself trying to find ways to be in your company. I was worried sick when Ivan brought you down from the mountain. I wanted to take care of you, to make you better, to dress your wounds. I never felt like that about anyone except my wife. I wanted to tell you, but it seemed kind of…wimpish. My kids are a separate issue. I’ll deal with them as a father. What we’re talking about here is you and me. I really tuned into you that first night when I came by your cabin and woke you up. You sneaked i
nto my heart, Emily.”

  Emily’s eyes misted. “I think you sneaked into mine too. There’s every possibility your kids might like me.”

  “Molly will. Benjy won’t. I’ll deal with it, Emily.”

  “I don’t know the first thing about kids. I’ll probably make things worse. I’ll say something when I shouldn’t. I’ll bend over backwards when I should be stern.”

  “I cooked so you can clean up,” Matt said airily.

  Emily got up from the chair, her thoughts in a turmoil. She could feel prickles of electricity run up and down her arms as she carried her plate to the sink.

  His embrace, when it came, was neither expected nor unexpected. It was natural, just the way it was in the elevator. She felt herself melting into his arms as though she’d been doing it for years and years. He felt good. He felt so right, she was dizzy with the thought. She felt his lips, his fingertips, his hard body. She couldn’t help it, she wanted this man. But not here, not now. She said so.

  Matt backed away, swatted her rump, and handed her the dishtowel at the same time. “Just put them in to soak. I’ll do them later.”

  “That’s good because I had no intention of doing them. I’m a guest.” The charge of electricity ricocheting between them was so strong, Emily moved to the other side of the kitchen.

  “I think you should take me home,” she said quietly.

  Matt nodded. “I think so too.”

  “Supper wasn’t bad, thanks for inviting me.”

  “My pleasure,” Matt said formally.

  “Why don’t we have dessert at my cabin?”

  “Let’s go, lady.”

  They ran like two kids to the jeep. They were driving away, the wind blowing in their faces, when Emily said, “You didn’t lock your door.”

  “I never lock my door.”

  “We know why we’re going to my place, right?”

  “Right. No game playing. We’re going to have sex. Good, old-fashioned sex. Jesus, I feel like a kid. It’s been a while, Emily. I might be a little rusty.” She laughed and laughed until he joined her, throwing back his head in delight.

  They tripped over each other as they ran up the four steps to Emily’s porch. Both of them tried to squeeze through the door opening at the same time. Thinner than Matt, Emily bounded through, turning on the lights as she went along. “Forget the damn lights and come here,” Matt ordered.

  Their eyes met in the dimness of the bedroom, and without a trace of modesty or embarrassment, she was aware she could drown in Matt’s incredibly dark gaze and emerge again as the woman she needed to become.

  Seeing her moist lips part and offer themselves to him, he lowered his mouth to hers, touching her lips, tasting their sweetness, drawing a kiss, gentle, yet passionate. Searing flames licked her body; the pulsating beat of her heart thundered in her ears.

  When he stepped away, his arms dropping to his sides, his eyes searched hers. What he saw reassured him.

  Emily closed the distance between them with one forward step. She kissed him then as she had never kissed another man, a kiss so deep with longing and yearning she felt her knees grow weak. Her head buzzed with emotions she’d thought were gone forever. She knew then, in that one dizzying moment, that this man belonged to her, for however long their time would be together. She had finally found a man who could make her feel like the woman she wanted to be.

  “Tell me you want me to make love to you,” Matt whispered.

  “Yes, yes, make love to me, here, now.” Her voice was deep, singing with desire, a voice that was new to Matt and new to her too.

  He tore away his clothes, eager to be naked against her, wanting the warmth of her touch on his body. Rolling over on his back, he took her with him, trailing his fingers down the length of her spine and returning over and over again to the roundness of her bottom. He invited her touch, inspired her caresses, always watching her in the dim moonlight filtering into the room, reveling in the heavy-lidded smoldering in her eyes. He wanted her to take pleasure in him, wanted her to find him worthy of her finely tuned passions. Did he please her, he wondered as she smoothed the flat of her palms over his chest, her fingertips gripping and pulling at the thicket of hair. Her mouth found his nipples, licking, tasting, lowering her explorations to the tautness of his belly and the hardness of his thighs. He reveled in her touch, in the expression of her eyes as he took her face in his hands and held it for his kiss.

  Putting her beneath him once again, he kissed the sweetness of her mouth, her eyes, the soft curve of her jaw. Her breasts awakened beneath his kisses, and she arched beneath his touch.

  She sought him with her lips, possessed him with her hands, her own passions growing as she realized the pleasure she was giving him. The hardness of his sex was somehow tender and vulnerable beneath her hand as she felt it quiver with excitement and desire…for her. His hands never left her body, seeking, exploring, touching…she wanted to lie back and render herself to him, touch him, commit him to memory and know him as she had never known another man. Instead of being alien to her, his body was as familiar to her as her own. She felt her body sing with pleasure and she knew her display of passion was food for his.

  Emily was ravaged by the hunger he created in her. She wanted to feel him inside her, joining with her, bringing her to her own release. “Matt,” she breathed, imploring him with her eyes, feeling as though she would die if he did not enter her, yet hating to put an end to the excruciating pleasure.

  He put himself between her opened thighs, his eyes devouring her as she lay waiting for him. Her soft hair reflected the silver of the moon, her skin was bathed in a sleek sheen that emphasized her womanly curves and enhanced the contact between their flesh. He sat back on his heels, his gaze locking with hers as his hands moved over her body. Emily met his eyes, unashamedly, letting him see the hungers that dwelled there and the flutter of her lashes that mirrored the trembling in her loins. His hands slipped to her sex and she cried out softly, arching her back to press herself closer against his gently circling fingers. “You’re so beautiful here,” he told her, watching her eyes close and her lips part with a little gasp.

  He gentled her passions, fed her desires, brought her to the point of no return, and smiled tenderly when she sobbed with the sweetness of her passions. She climaxed beneath his touch, uttering her surprise, whispering his name. His hands eased the tautness of her thighs, kneading the firmness of her haunches and smoothing over her belly.

  When she thought the sensation too exquisite to be surpassed, he leaned forward, driving himself into her, filling her with his pulsating masculinity. Her body strained beneath his, willing itself to partake of his pleasure, to be his pleasure. The fine hairs of his chest rubbed against her breasts. His mouth took hers, deeply, lovingly. His movements were smooth as he stroked within her, demanding she match his rhythm, driving her once again to the sweetness she knew could be hers.

  Her fingers raked his back, feeling the play of his muscles beneath his skin. She found the firmness of his buttocks, holding fast, driving him forward, feeling him buried deep within her. He doubled her delight and she climaxed again, and only then did he rise up, grasping her bottom in his hands and lifting it, thrusting himself into her with shorter, quicker strokes.

  Her body was exquisite, her responses delicious, but it was the expression on her lovely face and the delight and pleasure he saw there that pushed him over the edge and destroyed his restraint. The total joy, the hint of disbelief in her clear eyes, the purity of a single tear on her smooth cheek were his undoing. He found relief in her, her name exploding on his lips.

  They lay together, legs entwined, her head upon his shoulder as he stroked the softness of her arm and fullness of her breasts. His lips were in her hair, soft, teasing, against her brow. “You’re a beautiful lover,” he breathed, tightening his embrace, delighting in the intimacy between them.

  “So are you,” Emily murmured.

  “Would it surprise you, Emily, if I told
you I think I’m falling in love with you?”

  “Would it surprise you, Matt, if I told you the same thing?”

  “I guess that means we’re halfway in love.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Emily said, snuggling as close to him as she could. They slept, each dreaming of the other.

  Chapter 19

  It was late when Emily woke. She remembered instantly all the details of the previous evening. Her arm snaked out to touch the pillow Matt had slept on. He was gone, but she knew that. She rolled over, burying her face in the pillow. His body scent was faint, but noticeable. She took a deep breath before she stretched like a cat.

  It was going to be another beautiful day with a cloudless sky and warm breezes. A glance at the little traveling clock on the nightstand told her she’d slept through breakfast and it was almost time for lunch. It didn’t matter in the least; she wasn’t hungry. She was hungry only to feast her eyes on Matt Haliday.

  Was it possible she was in love with the ranger? In so short a time? All the slick magazines, all the love stories on television told about eyes meeting across a room and then boom, everyone rode off into the sunset and lived happily ever after. Yeah, well, things like that didn’t happen to the Emily Thorns of this life.

  Emily bounded from the bed like a teenager. She showered, dressed, and was on her front porch ready to feed the squirrels and rabbits. The moment she finished and pulled the last weed from the flowers on the porch, she was running down the trail to the recreation building to call the hospital. Perhaps she could pick Rosie up.

  “Mrs. Finneran was discharged an hour ago,” the charge nurse said happily.

  Emily clapped her hands. How wonderful. Now she could sit for hours and talk to Rosie about Matt. Providing she wanted to listen. What to do now? Call home, talk to her friends; Ben. Ben. She owed them all a phone call. The basket of mail on her dresser from all of them was still unopened. It was sinful that she’d been so lax.