“Please put me down,” she murmured.
Slowly he set her on the floor. “You’re not going to pretend that didn’t happen, are you?”
Oh, it had happened all right. She had even asked for it. “No, but…”
“I knew there was going to be a ‘but,’” he grumbled.
“We’re different, you and I.”
“That’s probably why we like each other,” he said with half a smile.
“Maybe. Maybe you’re exciting to me because you’ve been so many places. But excitement doesn’t last and I believe in…commitment. I was raised to believe that a man and woman shouldn’t…well, you know, before marriage.”
“You and your husband didn’t?”
“No.” Her voice was firm. She had wondered all during her marriage if Pete had married her only for sex. He’d sure never acted like he wanted to be married. She’d been so wrong about him, and his lack of caring for her and Mark had hurt.
Slade ran his hand through his hair. “I see. So you’re saying, unless I have serious intentions, I should stay away from you.”
After thinking over his words for a moment, she replied, “I’m not ready for serious intentions. I’m not ready for anything that’s going to complicate my life more than this ranch and my children already do.” She hesitated. In spite of what she’d just said and what she believed, she did want Slade to stay. Telling herself the attraction between them could easily be pushed to the background if they both tried, she suggested, “But my life has plenty of room for a friend, Slade.”
He seemed to think that over. “I don’t think a man and a woman can be just friends if there’s something in the air between them. But we can give it a try if that’s what you want.”
She thought about her friendship with Dallas, how it had always been comfortable, never complicated. But then she hadn’t been attracted to him as she was to Slade. “That’s what I want.”
Slade’s gaze searched her face and came to rest on her lips. It lingered there a few moments. The air between them was rife with the attraction they were both trying to push aside.
Emily took a deep breath. “I’m going to turn in now.” It seemed essential that she move away from Slade, that she closet herself away in her room, that she forget about the lingering effects of his kiss.
Because if she didn’t, they could never be friends.
The social hall attached to the church overflowed with people on Saturday morning. It was the first time Emily had been out with her baby daughter. She’d planned to make it a short trip to deliver the pies and say hello to a few people she rarely saw except for on occasions like these. Practically as soon as she entered the social hall, a group of women neighbors surrounded her, hoping to get a glimpse of the baby.
“I heard you named her Amanda,” one said.
“And you had her alongside the road,” another remarked.
Yet a third added, “And there’s gossip that a man’s living with you—”
At that moment, Slade came through the door carrying a box of pies. As usual, Mark was at his heels, feeling important by carrying a pie himself.
The women stopped talking and started looking when they saw Mark with Slade. One of them eyed Slade up and down, another frowned, and the third looked to Emily for an explanation.
But before Emily could even try to explain, Slade tipped his hat to them. “Morning, ladies. Emily, where would you like these?”
At the moment, she wished she’d never baked the pies. “Uh, back in the kitchen will be fine.”
There was amusement in Slade’s eyes as he saw he was the object of everyone’s attention. He headed in the direction of the kitchen.
“So it’s true,” the oldest of the three ranchers’ wives said solemnly.
Cradling her daughter, Emily squared her shoulders. “I’m not sure what you’ve heard. Fortunately for me and Mark, Mr. Coleburn happened by before I went into labor. When labor did start, we couldn’t make it to the hospital in time and he delivered Amanda by the side of the road in the van. I owe him her life and possibly more. He’s staying on until I can handle all the chores myself again.”
“But where is he staying?” Grace Harrison asked. She, her husband, son and daughter-in-law lived about ten miles from Emily on an adjoining spread.
Emily knew she couldn’t keep secrets around these people. Somehow word always got out and it was better to be straightforward. “He’s staying in Dad’s room. I don’t know what I would have done without him since Amanda was born.”
Grace turned toward the kitchen. Emily saw Slade crouched down in front of Mark, working the zipper on his jacket. They were both laughing about something.
“It looks as if he and Mark get along just fine,” Grace commented, her brows arched.
“They do,” Emily said simply without elaborating.
“But he’s not staying?” Flo Jansen asked.
“No. He’s just passing through.”
The three women exchanged looks, but Emily refused to feel embarrassed or ashamed. She nodded toward the tables that were filled with everything from embroidered baby bibs to jars of apple butter. “I’m going to take a look around while I’m here and see what everyone brought. Then I need to get Amanda home.”
Moving away from the women, she felt their gazes on her back, and she tried to shrug off the feeling that she’d done something terribly wrong.
As she examined a baby bib with a colt embroidered on the front, the hairs on her nape prickled. Suddenly Slade was beside her, leaning close. “Do they want to ride me out on a rail?”
“It’s not funny, Slade.” Her voice quivered slightly.
“Emily…”
But when he placed his hand on her shoulder, she shrugged away. “We’d better go.”
His mouth set in a tight line for a moment, and then he responded, “Fine. I’ll round up Mark and meet you at the door.”
Tears burned in Emily’s eyes, and she looked down at her baby girl and gently brushed her finger along her chin. “It’ll be all right, Amanda. Everything will be all right.”
And she told herself it was so as she crossed to the door of the social hall, wishing she didn’t care what anybody else thought, wishing she knew what she truly wanted.
Chapter Six
Two weeks before Christmas, Slade came into the house at lunch time after handling a morning full of chores. The scent of cinnamon and something good baking filled his nostrils. Emily was at the sink slicing carrots into a bowl. She was wearing jeans and a blouse with long sleeves that buttoned down the front, and she’d never looked prettier. But, then, he thought that every day. There had been a strain between them ever since that morning after Thanksgiving in the social hall. They hadn’t spoken about it, but Slade guessed Emily didn’t like being the butt of gossip. The thing was—if there was nothing happening between them, she had no cause to feel guilty about him living there.
But they both knew something was between them and that was the problem.
She glanced at him as he hung up his jacket and hat.
“Something smells good,” he said casually. He tried to keep everything casual between them lately, but that was damn hard. Especially when she looked at him with soft brown eyes that knew better.
“I made bread pudding. It’ll come out of the oven any minute now. Mail came for you.” She nodded to the table where an envelope sat propped against the salt and pepper shakers.
Mail? An answer to one of his ads? His heart began pounding. Picking it up, he pulled out a kitchen chair and sat, just staring at the envelope a few moments. A return address was hastily scrawled. John Morgan from Denver.
“Slade? What is it?” Emily asked gently.
“I almost don’t want to know,” he murmured. “This could be something that will change my life forever no matter what it is.”
“The only way you’ll find out is to open it,” she urged quietly.
At first Slade wondered if maybe he should do this in private,
but then he realized he was glad Emily was here. Tearing open the envelope, he slid out the letter, then unfolded it. As he read, his heart beat faster, and after he finished, he looked up at Emily, his throat tight. He cleared it. “This man in Denver says he and his wife adopted a child over thirty-one years ago. The boy’s name was Hunter Coleburn. They were living in Tucson at the time, but moved to Billings soon after. Eventually they moved to Denver.”
“Does he say where Hunter is now?” Emily asked.
“Hunter’s an international corporate attorney and he’s out of the country.” Slade stared down at the letter again. The information he’d just given Emily hung in the air between them.
“Are you leaving for Denver?” she asked.
Two more weeks and it would be Christmas. Slade knew he shouldn’t feel held to this place. He’d never felt held to any place. Yet, Hunter Coleburn wasn’t even in the country. Why go on a wild-goose chase when Emily needed him? Because she did even if she wouldn’t admit it.
“There are cattle and horses to tend and more snow coming. This can wait.” Slipping the letter into its envelope, he stuffed it into his shirt pocket.
“How long have you wanted family, Slade?”
The look in Emily’s eyes said she wouldn’t let him evade her. “I’ve never had it, so I don’t know if I want it.”
“You don’t want to meet your brother?”
“I don’t know if he is my brother. And even if he is, he’s out of the country.”
“But if you went and talked to these people—”
“I thought you said Mark wanted me here for the holidays.”
“He does, but we’re not your real family, Slade. And I don’t want to be responsible for you not finding Hunter.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to find him. I’ll write back to this John Morgan and send him a picture. If Hunter and I are twins, he’ll be able to tell me that. And if this is some coincidence, I’ll find that out, too. Either way, I’ll be here for Christmas. Unless you really want me to leave. If the gossip’s getting to you, if you think you’re doing something wrong…”
“I’m not doing anything wrong.”
“Then stop acting as if you are. Stop acting as if our gazes shouldn’t meet and our fingers shouldn’t touch and we shouldn’t spend time together now and then.”
Her cheeks flushed and he realized he’d hit all the nails on their heads.
“It’s not as if we’ve had much time to spend together,” she murmured.
“A family and a ranch eat up time,” he agreed. “But if we really wanted to find a little, I imagine we could. In fact, I want to go into town to do some Christmas shopping. Maybe Mavis could watch Amanda and you could go with me while Mark’s in school.”
He wished Emily didn’t look so uncertain. He wished he could dream about the future. But he’d learned long ago that dreams were wisps of life, imaginings that could make a boy hurt and yearn. Like smoke, the wisps disappeared and could leave a boy or a man alone with reality of this world, not the one he wished for.
Waiting, he almost expected Emily to refuse his offer.
The bell went off on the timer. She broke eye contact, opened the oven door, then reached for two pot holders and took out the bread pudding. Its wonderful smell became even more alive and so did his desire for Emily.
Finally she laid the pot holders on the counter and brushed her hair away from her face, meeting his gaze once more. “I do have some shopping to do.”
“How long can you leave Amanda? I’d like to take you to lunch.”
“I can express milk and work with her on taking a bottle. It’s a good thing to do in case of emergencies anyway. Then we won’t have to worry about what time we get back.”
He couldn’t keep the grin from stealing across his face and he stood, going to her. “We could call this a date,” he teased.
“We’re going shopping, Slade.”
“Then I guess it will be a shopping date.”
She shook her head. “Sometimes you’re…”
Slipping his thumb under her chin, he tipped it up. “Sometimes I’m what?”
But she didn’t answer him. Staying away from her, trying not to want her, was just too damn difficult. As she went perfectly still and stared up at him, he lowered his head and his lips covered hers. The kiss seemed to stretch into next year as the taste of her made him hungrier, the sensuality of her made him needier. The pure temptation of her almost made him believe in a dream. She melted into his arms and kissed him back with an abandon that surprised him. But he knew it would be better to leave her wanting more. It would be better for him to stop this before she did, before her thoughts got tangled up in the desire and she convinced herself she should stay away from him again. Slowing things down, he loosened his hold on her, stopped the mating of his tongue with hers and slowly withdrew.
When she looked up at him, she looked bemused and he figured that was a good way to leave it.
“I’m going to go wash up,” he said, trying to keep his voice from being low and husky. “Just holler when lunch is ready.”
And before she had the chance to tell him that they shouldn’t do that again, that they shouldn’t go shopping together, that he shouldn’t consider it a date, he went down the hall to the bathroom with a smile on his face.
After Slade and Emily shopped separately for a short while at a small mall on the outskirts of Billings, they met up at the toy store. It was a wonderland of lost wishes for Slade. It held everything he’d always wanted as a boy and could never have—balls and gloves and trucks and games. They’d had mostly leftovers at the home in Tucson. Things people had used too hard or didn’t want anymore. Rarely new. And he’d never had to buy Christmas presents for people before. It had been years since he’d received a present let alone given one. But this year he wanted to give. He needed to give.
He knew Emily wouldn’t accept much. Through the years to pass time, he’d begun carving. For the last two weeks, he’d been working on a fawn for Emily. He was pretty sure she’d like it but could never be completely certain about her reactions.
But Mark was a different matter entirely.
As they walked down a row stocked with stuffed animals, Slade said to Emily, “I thought about getting Mark a saddle for Christmas. One that fits him.”
She stopped. “Mark doesn’t need a new saddle. He uses mine.”
“And when the two of you go riding?”
“We manage. I use Pete’s old saddle.”
“It wouldn’t hurt for Mark to have one of his own, to hold onto for years to come.”
Her gaze was troubled when she looked up at him. “That’s a gift that’s much too expensive, Slade. I can’t let you do that.”
“It seems to me gifts shouldn’t have tags on them that say too-much-or-too-little.” Emily started walking again and Slade knew this was going to be an uphill battle. He asked, “What are you getting Mark?”
“Mavis found me a sled at a sale. It just needs a good coat of paint. And I want to get him a new baseball and bat. Come spring he’ll play on a team at school.”
“What about a glove?”
Emily shook her head and Slade suspected a glove wouldn’t fit into her budget.
As they approached the rack of balls and gloves and other sports equipment, Slade stopped. “Let me buy him a glove, a football and maybe a basketball. You have the perfect place beside the barn where he could shoot hoops.”
“Slade…”
He knew a lecture was coming and he didn’t want to hear it. “Christmas is a time for toys, and for kids getting what they want, not being deprived.”
“I don’t think Mark feels deprived. I’ve always given him everything I can. And there’s Amanda now, too.”
“All the more reason to let me give him something special,” Slade concluded. “If not a saddle, how about a wagon or a bicycle?”
“Do you want to do this so he remembers you after you’re gone?” Emily asked.
Maybe he did. Maybe he wanted to feel as if he’d left some mark on the boy or given Mark something to remember him by. But he didn’t like her pointing it out. “I just think Mark needs to know he’s special, that he’s not any different from any other kid. You can think about the bike or the wagon and I’ll abide by your decision on that. But I’m buying him a few balls and the glove, at least.”
The checkout counter was busy even though it was midday. Christmas was getting close. Emily peeked glances at Slade every now and then as they went through the line. She knew that determined set of his jaw. She knew how remote he could become when his eyes turned that color of blue, sort of like a stormy sky, and she guessed giving presents to Mark was important to him for more than one reason.
As they came out of the store and put bags and boxes in the back of the van, snow started to fall. Slade looked up and frowned. “I hope it doesn’t get too heavy. I wanted to take Mark to cut down a Christmas tree either today or tomorrow when he gets home from school. Or do you have something against Christmas trees?”
Trying to keep her temper in check, she stepped back. “I’m not Scrooge, Slade. I’ve just learned how to make do on a shoestring.”
He looked chagrined for a moment and then slammed the back door into place. She motioned to a corner of the parking lot where a display was set up with lighted trees and small mechanical figures of animals and children. “Do you want to walk and take a look before we get lunch?”
“You’ll be cold,” he muttered.
“I’ll be fine. I can bundle up since I fit into my coat again,” she said with a smile.
But he didn’t smile in return, just waited for her to start walking with him toward the lighted trees.
Although snow was falling, there was almost no wind and Emily enjoyed stretching her legs, being outside, being with Slade. When they reached the fenced-in display, they gazed at the little train circling a tree, the figures of animals and children. “Tell me about Christmas when you were a boy,” Emily suggested.
The intensity of Slade’s look should have made her turn away, but she didn’t. She simply waited.
Just the Man She Needed Page 8