by Lynne Norris
“Why does she want to know?” Grace lifted her bottle to her lips.
“She’s dying of curiosity.”
Grace choked on her beer and coughed. “That’s what I get for asking.”
“Are you okay?”
“Fine. You still didn’t answer my question. What were you thinking when I came out of the house?”
Emma picked at the corner of the label on her beer bottle peeling it away. Her sister’s words echoed in her mind. “I was wondering what this might be between us and where it might be going.”
Grace stood from the table and walked around to the other side. She straddled the bench, her knees lightly touching Emma’s leg. “I know neither one of us has a crystal ball. The reality is no one knows how anything will turn out.”
Emma ducked her head and smiled. “I’m not sure I’d want to know the future even if we did have a crystal ball.”
“Are you afraid?” Grace asked.
“I’d be lying if I said no,” Emma said.
“I would be too,” Grace admitted.
“Why?” Emma tossed the label onto the table.
“You might get a job half way across the country,” Grace said.
“I guess that’s always a possibility.”
“What about you?” Grace prodded.
“I came here meaning to hide and lick my wounds. I wasn’t expecting anything good to come of it and then I met you.”
Emma looked at Grace and realized by the faint smile on her face that she understood. “I don’t want to let whatever this might be pass us by. One thing I’ve learned in the past few months is we only get one shot at this life.” A warm breeze fluttered the flames of the candles and brushed against them. Emma didn’t mind sitting quietly in the dark with the candlelight flickering and dancing. She heard the jingling of the dogs’ tags as they trotted over and settled down around them.
“You’ve got city girl written all over you and I’m a farm girl at heart...” Grace shook her head and laughed, “I don’t know how it’ll be or if it will turn out right.”
“How about we agree to see how it plays out?” Emma asked.
“Meaning?”
Emma slipped her hand into Grace’s and squeezed gently. “We’ll just have to find out as we go along.” Emma leaned forward and brushed her lips against Grace’s. “It might be fun,” she teased, moving her lips along Grace’s jaw until she found her earlobe. Emma drew the soft flesh in between her lips and sucked gently. She felt Grace shiver beneath her touch and heard her breath hitch. She felt Grace’s arms come around her and pull her close. Emma took her time exploring Grace’s mouth.
With a soft moan, Grace pulled away and rested her forehead against Emma’s. “You, Ms. Chamberlain, are trouble.”
“Trouble? Mmm.” Emma nuzzled Grace’s neck and grazed her teeth along her skin. “Is that good or bad?”
“I’ll guess we’ll just have to see.” Grace pulled away and held onto Emma’s shoulder as she stood.
“Where are you going?” Emma asked wondering if she’d upset Grace with her teasing.
“I’m going to put the rest of this inside.”
“I’ll help.”
WHEN EVERYTHING WAS put away, Grace grabbed a fleece from the coat rack inside the hallway and handed it to Emma.
“What’s this for?”
“I want to show you something.”
“What is it?”
“If I tell you it won’t be a surprise. Would it?”
“You’re a tease.” Emma tugged on the pullover, breathing in the scent of Grace’s perfume and felt her heart start to pound. This is crazy. I really need to get a grip here.
“Just don’t want to spoil it for you.” Grace grabbed a flashlight from a drawer and ushered Emma out the door.
In the growing darkness, Grace clasped Emma’s hand in hers. They walked along a well-worn footpath that meandered through the woods. The beam of light danced in front of them illuminating the forest floor and the enormous trees around them. The ground was spongy beneath their feet from centuries of branches and leaves falling and composting on the forest floor. A complex woodsy, green smell wafted from the ground as their steps disturbed the soil.
Somehow holding hands felt significant. Not that the kisses they shared weren’t, Emma thought. They were full of passion, heady with the anticipation of what might come after, but this simple gesture made her feel the warmth and tenderness growing between them.
An owl hooted above them and Grace stopped a moment to sweep the light through the branches that towered above them in a futile search for the winged predator. Emma had a fleeting thought she should feel afraid out in the woods at night, but she felt relaxed and surprisingly at ease. An occasional animal scurried around in the undergrowth not far from where they were walking.
“It’s not far.” Grace’s voice was low as if she was reluctant to break the nighttime spell.
“It’s so dark. I can’t see anything beyond your light.”
“Listen.” Grace slowed and after a few more feet halted holding Emma alongside her.
It was faint at first and Emma strained with every ounce of her senses to hear what Grace was tuned into. A gurgling noise of water cascading over rocks reached her ears. “I hear it.”
“There’s a spring that feeds into a stream just ahead. Go slow here,” Grace said close to Emma’s ear. “The ground slopes down.”
Emma edged forward, holding onto Grace’s hand. The ground fell away sharply into a dell. Grace swept her flashlight in a slow arc. Emma could make out shapes of massive fallen trees below them.
Grace flicked the light off and Emma gasped as the darkness swallowed them.
“No. Turn it back on.”
“It’s all right. Trust me and watch.”
Emma felt Grace step behind and wrap her arms around her middle. The contact of Grace’s breast and hips against her back was erotic. Emma forced herself to breathe and tamp down on the terrible ache she felt inside.
“I’ve got you,” Grace said close to her ear.
Emma leaned back into Grace’s sturdy frame, grateful for her support as she stood at the edge of what felt like hallowed ground, as if they were standing in an ancient cathedral.
One by one, hundreds of yellow and green lights twinkled on and off in the darkness as if they had stumbled upon some earthly galaxy of stars. The fireflies flitted up, down and around, darting and dancing in a magical woodland display that felt like an enchanted forest. The fireflies’ tapestry of light was breathtakingly beautiful and Emma felt tears sting her eyes.
“They’re beautiful.”
“I wanted you to see it.” Grace hugged her tighter.
“Do you ever get tired of watching?” Emma wrapped her hands over Grace’s.
“No. I miss them when the summer’s over.” Grace buried her face in the curve of Emma’s neck. “I come out here some nights when nobody’s out, just to look. It’s quiet and for a few moments I feel like they belong to me. Silly, isn’t it?”
“I don’t think so. This is one of those moments I wouldn’t want to ever forget.” Emma intertwined her fingers in Grace’s hands. “This is perfect.”
“As close as it gets.” Grace kissed the skin beneath Emma’s ear then snapped her head up when she heard a cacophony of frenzied barking followed by a high-pitched crack that echoed through the air.
“What was that?” Emma clutched Grace’s arm.
“Gunshot. Someone’s at the house,” Grace hissed through clenched teeth.
“I don’t have my cell phone on me,” Emma said as she felt her back pocket of her jeans.
“Not going to do us any good,” Grace said already moving back along the path. Emma sensed Grace’s tension as she picked her way through the trail, stopping every few steps to listen. “We’re not going back the way we came.”
“I’m going to the barn.”
“Why?” Grace didn’t answer and Emma’s stomach churned. She pulled Grace to a stop. “What
are you doing?”
“I’d prefer it if you came with me rather than stay out here in the woods alone. I don’t know who’s out there, but they’re armed and we’re not. I need to get back to the barn.”
“You don’t want to just wait and let them go?”
“Mike and the twins will be back with my parents soon—and my dogs are out there. I’m not waiting.”
“Okay,” Emma relented not having a better argument.
Grace kept them in the shadows as they came out of the woods and crept to the barn. “Stay with me,” Grace hissed as she crouched down at the corner of the barn and waited.
Not too far off in the distance Emma could hear Sadie and Max. Maybe they chased off whoever was snooping around. Still staying in a crouch Grace moved to the front of the barn and slipped inside with Emma behind her.
The smell of sweet hay and horses filled her nose. Bella and Honey neighed softly at the intrusion.
Emma’s heart hammered in her chest as Grace moved to the cabinet and unlocked it. She heard her remove the rifle and chamber rounds.
“What are you doing?” Emma asked when Grace stood inside the doorway.
“Listening for the dogs.”
Minutes passed and Emma could make out the silhouette of her car, the steps leading up to the farmhouse and the rail at the top of the steps. Out of the shadows, a shape emerged moving towards the barn. The shape turned into two distinct bodies as Sadie and Max trotted towards Grace. Tongues hung out of their mouths, their panting audible from a couple feet away.
“What did you two go after?” Grace dropped to her knees and held her hand out to Max.
“He’s limping,” Emma said kneeling down beside her.
“Come here boy.” Grace ran her hands over his legs and flank. Max whined when she touched his back hip.
“Is he hurt?”
“I need to get him inside and look. He’s bleeding from somewhere.”
“What about whoever’s out there?” Emma asked.
“These two ran them off for now.”
“How can you be sure?”
“They wouldn’t be back and acting like this if there was still someone here.” Grace shouldered the rifle and lifted Max into her arms. Sadie trotted across the yard towards the farmhouse.
Emma opened the door to the kitchen watching with a look of worry on her face as Grace carried Max inside and set him on the floor. Beneath the light, Grace examined him. “There it is. It’s just a flesh wound.”
“Can I do anything?” Emma asked her stomach churning.
“In the cabinet over the sink is a first aid kit.”
“Aren’t you going to call the police?” Emma watched as Grace set the rifle on the floor within arm’s reach.
“What are they going to do? Whoever was out there is gone.” Grace’s voice was calm and matter-of-fact.
“They shot your dog.” Emma retrieved the blue bag and handed it to Grace.
“You’re right and now I’m going to take care of him. It’s all right,” Grace crooned as she dug out cleaner and applied it to the gash. Sadie lay next to Max watching intently as Grace worked on him. “It’s not too deep, but he’s going to need stitches.” Grace filled a syringe from a vial. “This is going to sting, baby. Hold his head for me?”
Emma knelt down and stroked Max. She pressed her hands into his fur to hide their trembling. The dog rolled his eyes up at Emma and thumped his tail. Emma watched as Grace injected the fluid around the gash in Max’s left hip.
“Just a minute for this to numb everything then I can fix you up. Who did you chase out there? Huh?” Grace shaved the fur from around the edges of the wound. She flushed the gash with cleaner again and then threaded a needle.
“How did you learn how to put stitches in?” Emma watched Grace’s practiced hand suture the wound closed.
“I’ve had to do it before on livestock. Out here you learn to do these things yourself. I can’t run to a vet or a doctor for every little thing that happens.”
“I suppose not.” Emma watched as Grace finished with Max and covered the dog with a blanket. Sadie lay down next to him and licked his ear.
“He’ll be all right. Just need to keep him quiet for few days.” Grace packed up her kit and washed her hands in the sink.
Headlights flashed in the window. “The troops are back.” Grace picked up the rifle and set it on the counter.
Her father entered first, carrying Jonah, followed by Michael with Tyler in his arms. Lucy entered and lit up when she saw Emma in the kitchen. “I thought I recognized your car. What happened to Max?” she asked her eyes quickly darting from the dog to the gun on the counter. “Grace?”
“We’re fine. Someone was here prowling around earlier and the dogs went after whoever it was.”
“What happened?” Peter asked.
“Take the boys to bed first,” Lucy said directing him and Michael out of the kitchen.
“Where were the two of you?”
“Out back in the woods walking,” Grace said.
“You didn’t see whoever it was did you?” Lucy asked and Grace shook her head.
Peter entered the kitchen. “Want to fill me in?”
“Somebody was prowling around and Max got shot. A flesh wound is all.”
“You didn’t tell me that,” Lucy snapped kneeling down to look at Max under the blanket.
“Probably some damn fool kids out looking for trouble,” Peter said.
“Shouldn’t we call the police?” Lucy asked.
Peter shrugged. “So they can come and take a report for an hour. There’s nothing they can do.”
Lucy stood and walked over to Emma and rubbed her arms. “You’re shaking sweet heart. Sit for a minute.”
“You didn’t need to get the rifle out, Grace.”
“I didn’t know what the situation was. You guys were coming home soon and someone was out there armed. I know you don’t like it, but it’s what I chose to do.”
“Everyone settle down. You did the right thing, Grace,” Peter said. “No harm done, except for poor Max here.”
“We all need to go to bed. Tomorrow’s another busy day,” Lucy said. “Grace you should follow Emma home.”
“No, I’ll be fine.”
“I insist,” Lucy said. “Grace make sure you put that gun away.”
“I will.”
“I’ll take it.” Peter lifted it from the counter. “I’m going to take a look around after you two leave.”
Grace watched her parents leave the kitchen and then sat down beside Emma. “Sorry the night ended like this.”
“It’s not your fault.” Emma squeezed Grace’s forearm. “Are you in trouble?”
“I don’t think so. My father will tell me tomorrow I should have taken it with me when I left the house tonight.”
“Really?”
“Doesn’t do you any good if you don’t have it with you when you need it.” Grace stood feeling out of sorts and more than a little convinced that she’d done permanent damage with Emma tonight. “I’ll follow you home”
“Let me give you your fleece back,” Emma said starting to remove it.
“Keep it for the ride home. The temperature is dropping.”
EMMA CLOSED THE door behind her and locked the dead-bolt. She watched through the window as Grace’s taillights disappeared in the distance. The night was a whirlwind of emotions and if she closed her eyes she wondered if much of what happened was real. She was so far out of her depth living here. Maybe her mother was right about the Moretti’s.
She was annoyed with herself that she couldn’t decipher the look in Grace’s eyes before she stepped down off the porch tonight. She couldn’t tell what the coolness in her eyes meant and that unsettled her more than the events that happened earlier. Was Grace angry with her? Was she embarrassed because her parents showed up and her mother questioned her actions in front of Emma?
Emma had no idea and decided sleep was the best way to put the night behind her. I
f Grace was in a mood, it wasn’t her problem.
Chapter Thirteen
THREE DAYS LATER, Emma walked into the Saint Ambrose soup kitchen, her nose picking up an odor that reminded her vaguely of the cafeteria in high school. The pungent smell of body odor mixed with some kind of mystery soup wafted through the air.
A man with wavy, salt and pepper hair and a sun-weathered face wiped down the empty tables with a soapy dishrag. He wore black pants with a maroon polo shirt and stained white apron tied around his skinny hips.
“Hi,” Emma said walking up to him. She thought he was ignoring her until she saw the hearing aide in his ear. She stepped into his line of sight and said, “Hello.”
He glanced up after a moment and studied her with a quizzical expression. “Hi there.”
“My name’s Emma.”
“Nice to meet you, Emma” He nodded and moved onto another table as the last occupant rose. Dressed in a worn gray t-shirt and jeans that were too baggy, the woman bent and hefted a blue duffel bag, a guitar and a backpack over her shoulders. She ambled to the door leaving her tray of unfinished food where she’d been sitting. “Name’s Whitley. James Whitley. You missed the main meal of the day. Got nothing left today, but you can come back tomorrow. We open at nine.”
“Oh, no I’m not here for food.” Emma followed him as he moved around the table. “I wanted to talk to the manager.”
“What for?” he asked looking confused. “There aren’t any paying jobs here.” James continued to wipe soapy swirls on the table. He pulled a worn dry towel from his back pocket and ran it over the suds to wipe the surface dry, splattering droplets of soap onto the floor in the process.
“I want to volunteer.”
“Volunteer?” His eyes went up and down her in a quick appraisal. “Why do you want to volunteer here? You’d be better off at the hospital.”
“Why the hospital?” Emma asked.
“The crowd is a bit more docile there.” James picked up the recycled tray and tossed it into a trashcan that was already overflowing with garbage.