How he wanted her.
Tomorrow, the voice in his head screamed at him.
He released her and took a step backward.
“The wedding is not until tomorrow, woman,” he said fighting to catch his breath. “Please. Don’t come any closer. I don’t know if I have the strength to resist you much longer.”
She stepped forward. She was playing with a fire he was sure she didn’t understand.
“Stop.” He put his hand up in a breathless warning.
“But I thought…”
It was too much. He closed the distance between them, placing a finger over her bewitching mouth, then took her hands in his and brought them up to his lips with a firm and aching kiss.
“Emma,” he stared at her searching eyes, “obligation be damned. You are the most courageous and fascinating woman I have ever known. You are beautiful and smart and I want to be with you. Please marry me tomorrow. Be my wife. I want to build a life with you.”
A single tear fell down Emma’s passion flushed cheeks. “Finally,” she said again with a smile. This time, there was no mistaking the word.
The hairs on Jonah’s arms raised and he was hit with a sinking feeling. Something was wrong.
Chapter Twelve
“Go inside,” Jonah urged Emma. “Make sure everyone is okay.”
She didn’t stop to question him, but nodded and turned for the porch steps.
“And Emma?”
She turned and smiled at him.
“Will you ask Uncle Jameson and my brothers to come outside?”
The voices coming from the house, and the occasional giggle, were not unusual. But Jonah couldn’t shake the ominous feeling that had settled in his gut. He reached for his gun. He’d left his belt and holster on the table next to the bed.
He spotted the woodpile where they’d put the broken planks of the fence they’d mended and wrapped his hand around one with a few nails still protruding from the end. The sun had fallen completely behind the hills now, but the moon was brighter than he’d seen it in a while.
He slowly made his way around the perimeter of the homestead.
Nothing.
You’re going mad, Deardon.
Jonah had started back when he spotted Raine and Sarah sitting on the bench at the side of the house.
“Raine,” he called.
“What? Huh?” The youth looked up. “Jonah? What are you doing?”
“Sorry to interrupt your sparking, but have you seen anything strange out here tonight?”
The girl, Sarah, giggled. “Raine, I best be gettin’ home. Pa’s going to be awfully worried.”
“I can escort you home? It’s dark out.”
“That won’t be necessary,” a large man with a protruding belly and a thick moustache pulled up on a dark horse, a shotgun slung across his lap.
“Why, pa.” Sarah stood up, appearing suddenly flustered and ran the length of the porch and skittered down the steps toward her father. “Goodbye, Raine,” she said with a little wave and a smile before climbing up onto the horse behind her father.
“And Redbourne, you best remember not to keep my little girl past dark again, son.”
“Yes, sir,” Raine said sincerely. “You have my word.”
Jonah breathed a sigh of relief. He needed to tune in better to his senses as he wasn’t accustomed to false alarms.
Noah, Lucas, and Uncle Jameson joined them on the side of the house.
“What’s wrong, Jonah?” Noah asked, a shotgun in hand. “Emma said you had a bad feeling.”
Jonah looked at Raine.
“Mr. Miller just came to get Sarah,” Raine explained, looking hard at his father. “With a shotgun.”
Uncle Jameson shook his head. “You’ve got to be careful with him, son. Fathers can be—”
An ear-splitting scream came from the house.
They split up. Raine and Uncle Jameson headed to the back door, while Jonah and his brothers made for the front. Lucas handed him a pistol.
“Thought you might need this,” he said quietly as he peeked through the window next to the door.
Jonah kept the nailed plank in his hand, but he took the gun as an extra precaution and gently reached for the doorknob. Click. It opened. Noah went in first, then Lucas, and Jonah brought up the rear.
Aunt Leah was visible from the living area, Hannah clutched in her arms. He couldn’t see any of the other children because of the wall that separated them, but Aunt Leah was staring with concern up the stairs. Jonah couldn’t see what or who she was looking at. He waved his brothers forward.
Where was Emma?
“Mr. Greeley?” Emma asked with an air of incredulity.
Jonah closed his eyes with relief.
“What are you doing here and why do you have my travelling case?”
Uncle Jameson appeared just around the kitchen doorway. Jonah could see him from his position, but doubted the intruder could.
“Miss Foster, please. I have travelled a long way to collect these documents. Please, just let me know. I don’t want to hurt anyone.” The man’s voice was oily and high pitched.
Jonah figured he would have disliked the man anyhow.
“But I will,” the man said, “if I have to. If I don’t get these documents back to Mr. Horace, I’ll be a dead man.”
Uncle Jameson stepped out from behind the kitchen wall, his shotgun held firm in front of him. Raine had a rifle in his hands, cocked and ready when he walked two steps farther into the hallway.
Jonah nodded at his brothers who rounded one side of the wall and at the same time he rounded the other.
A small man in a dark bowler hat stood on the stairs with Emma’s old broken travelling case tucked up against his stomach, both arms holding it in front of him. The broken handle hung from the one bolt keeping it in place.
The man jumped at the sight of five armed men. His eyes darted back and forth between them and he gingerly took a step backward up the stairs.
Mr. Greeley, as Emma had called him, wore spectacles that had started to slide down his nose from the sweat that trickled down his face, and the small revolver he held dangled haphazardly from his fingers.
“How do you know this man, Emma?” Jonah asked without looking at her.
“He works for Mr. Horace, my grandfather’s attorney.”
“From Boston?”
“Yes,” she whispered, “of course.”
He redirected his attention to the intruder.
“What is so important about that old box that you would follow Miss Foster all the way from Boston?” Jonah inquired with a raised brow.
“I don’t care about the case,” the man spat, his features contorting from innocent victim to spurned culprit. “I just want the documents Horace gave her.”
Her documents?
“You want our land?” Jonah asked incredulously.
Movement caught his eye from behind Mr. Greeley. The twins had somehow gotten up the stairs without the man knowing it.
“Of course not. What good would land in Oregon do for me, Mr. Deardon? Yes. I know who you are.”
“It was you. In St. Joseph. You’re the one who hired those boys to break into Millie’s place.”
“And if they’d done their job, it would have saved me a lot of trouble. Luckily, Miss Millie knew where you all were headed, so I didn’t have to follow too closely.”
Levi quietly approached the top step. He had one of Lottie’s heavy cast iron skillets in his hand. Tag knelt down and pulled something from his pocket and placed it on the top step.
A lizard.
With a little coaxing, the blue-green body strutted down the steps, effectively catching Mr. Greeley’s attention and distracting him. Levi stepped forward with the pan and knocked the man over the head with it. He immediately fell forward and tumbled down the remaining few steps.
“We got him,” Levi said, clapping his brother on the back.
Aunt Leah and Emma both rushed forward to the man. He
’s still breathing. Aunt Leah let out a visible sigh of relief.
“Boys,” Leah called, “help us get him on over to the couch.”
“You’re going to make him comfortable?” Uncle Jameson asked with disbelief.
“Levi and Tag, you two go get some rope from the barn. Your mother may give him something soft to sit on, but he’s not going to be comfortable.”
The boys snickered and ran down the stairs, jumping over the unconscious man’s limp body, and out toward the barn.
Jonah stepped forward and pulled the travelling case from beneath the crumpled man.
“I want to see what was so damned important that he would risk breaking into a house full of people and men with guns.”
“Raine, take Will and the two of you go collect the sheriff,” Uncle Jameson directed. “Check the Miller’s place. I’m pretty sure he’s visiting his folks tonight.” He winked at his oldest son.
Jonah flipped the latches on the case and swung the lid upward. A worn yellow envelope had been tucked into the pouch at the back and Jonah pulled it free.
Inside, Foster’s will was accompanied by the deed to the Oregon property and a very worn old photograph of a stern looking couple Jonah guessed to be Emma’s parents. He picked up the deed over which the marriage agreement had been made to examine it. It seemed very thick and he realized there was another document hidden in its folds.
It was a property deed for a place called Orchard House in Boston, made out in Emma’s name. Jonah continued to stare at the paper. If this Orchard House belonged to her, what would keep her from returning to Boston? What could he offer that would make her stay? She had already agreed to simply sell him the land in question, and if Orchard House was what he suspected, she would now be able to return home to her precious Boston.
He turned to look at Emma. Remembered how she had responded to his touch. To his kiss. He ached to pull her into his arms and know that she was his.
“What is it? Did you find something?” She walked up to him and casually placed her hand on his forearm.
He liked the feel of her touch and never wanted it to end. Despite how he felt for her, he had to tell her the truth, but at what cost?
“There is an extra deed in here,” he told her.
“Of course, there is. Isn’t that why we’re here?”
“I mean, there’s one for the Oregon spread and another for a place called Orchard House...in Boston. Both have your name on them.”
Emma turned to look at him, her mouth slightly ajar and her eyes wide. She shook her head slightly and then backed up to lean against the overstuffed chair next to the couch.
“Impossible,” she breathed. “I own Orchard House?”
“What is it?” he asked reluctantly.
“It’s my home.”
Home? How could he compete with that? He had to think fast. He could not lose her. Not when he’d only just found her.
“Do you know what this means?” Emma asked with a smile.
He didn’t respond. Afraid to hear the answer.
Chapter Thirteen
Emma couldn’t sleep. She tossed the quilt from her legs and sat up against the headboard of her bed. The night seemed unusually hot for October—even the thin nightshift she wore stuck to her skin.
Moonlight spilled into her room through a small slit in her curtains and she stood up to open them wide. She discovered there was no window there at all but a set of double doors that led out to a small veranda overlooking the field where the chairs and decorations had been set up for the wedding.
She stood against the doorframe and allowed the light warm breeze to dance with the delicate material of her gown. It was beautiful here.
Emma could still hardly believe that Orchard House belonged to her. She knew God had a sense of humor, but this was ridiculous. After her grandfather’s debts had been settled at his passing, Mr. Horace had assured her that following through on her grandfather’s agreement with the Deardons was her only means of survival.
He’d obviously neglected to tell her that the house and everything left in it, still belonged to her. She chose to believe he’d simply made a mistake.
Emma didn’t know what exactly was going on between her and Jonah, but she realized she wouldn’t have met him if it hadn’t been for that mistake. And if she hadn’t have met him, she would never have experienced his impassioned kisses, never felt her heart leap through her chest when held her, never known what it meant to love him.
Orchard House was just that. A house. It had been her home for a long time. She’d grown up there. She’d had friends there. A life. It was familiar. And safe. But now, so much had changed. She’d come so far. Learned so much. Returning to Boston would mean turning her back on a new life and everything she now held dear. It would mean turning her back on Jonah.
She loved him, she had no doubt. But fear etched its ugly head into her thoughts.
He’d told her she was beautiful, that he wanted to make a life with her. What if he felt differently now that she was no longer impoverished with no place else to go, no other options? What if he expected her to return to her previous home and simply sell him the Oregon land as she’d proposed?
Emma had always wanted to marry for love. Was it too much to hope that she’d received exactly what she’d wished for? She hadn’t realized until this moment how much she needed to hear the words. Needed to hear Jonah say he loved her.
She didn’t want to settle for a marriage of convenience. Now, she didn’t have to.
A light flickered in the darkness. Emma peered over the veranda balustrade and spotted a lone figure sitting on the steps. Jonah’s silhouette was unmistakable in the moonlight and she bit her lip at the thought of him. His kiss had seared into her memory. Unwittingly, she raised her fingers to her mouth and brushed them across her lips.
She needed sleep. Tomorrow promised to be a big day. Leah had agreed to take her into town in the morning. There was suddenly a lot to do.
“If you aren’t going to marry her, Jonah, then I will.” Noah sat at the edge of his bunk and pulled on his boots.
“Like hell you will.”
Noah laughed.
Jonah couldn’t imagine the hell it would be to see Emma with another man. “I can’t very well marry her if she’s going back to Boston, now can I?”
“So, tell her not to go.” Noah stood up and walked out into the yard.
“It’s not that simple.” Jonah followed. Of course he didn’t want her to go, but he didn’t want to be the woman’s second choice. He’d seen how well that had worked out for his father.
“Why not? Have you told her you love her?”
Jonah stared at Noah. “How did y—“
Noah laughed. “I’ve known you a long time big brother and I have never seen you quite so…alive as you are when you’re with her.” Noah stopped and looked him square in the face. “I also know you don’t always let on how you’re feeling. Have you told her you love her?”
“No.” He’d told her he wanted to be with her. Told her she was beautiful, but he’d not said those specific words.
“Then, get to it.”
Jonah didn’t hesitate. Noah was right. She needed to know and then he’d let her decision fall where it would.
He looked in the kitchen, by the pond, and even knocked on her bedroom door, but he couldn’t find Emma anywhere.
“Where is she?” he asked Lottie the moment she emerged from the cellar. “Miss Foster. Where is she?”
“Señora Leah take her to town.”
Town? She was leaving? He had to stop her.
Jonah carefully lifted the heavy box of food stuffs from the family cook’s arms and quickly carried it to the kitchen.
“Gracias,” she called after him as he ran from the house to the stables.
Jonah was greeted with an empty stall. He’d let Perseus out into the fields last night to graze and run.
“Something wrong, Jonah?” Uncle Jameson strode into the stables w
ith a sack of feed.
“What time does the stage pass through town on its way to St. Joseph?”
“You heading back?” Uncle Jameson set the feed on the floor next to the legs of the work table and pulled a knife from the sheath on his belt. “I thought we were going to have a wedding today.”
“We are—God willing. If I can stop her from leaving.”
Uncle Jameson stopped what he was doing at looked up at Jonah.
“The stage?” Jonah asked again.
Jameson pulled his watch from his pocket and clicked it open. “I reckon it’ll be leaving Stone Creek within the next hour or so.”
Jonah grabbed his bridle from the wall.
“Thanks.” He ran to the pasture gate, and whistled—low and short.
“What are you doing, Jonah?” Little eight-year-old Cole stood next to him and looked out into the field.
“Bringing my bride home,” Jonah said with a smile.
Cole looked up at him quizzically.
“She out in the field?”
“No.”
“Then why are you still here?” Cole put the apple he’d been eating into his pocket, then placed two fingers at the corners of his mouth, curled his lip, and tried to whistle with one short blow. No sound came out.
Jonah laughed. “Don’t worry, kid. You’ll get it.”
Where had his horse gotten off to?
He whistled one more time, hoping the horse would remember the call. They’d practiced a few times before leaving home, but it still needed some work. When he heard the familiar neigh of the chestnut gelding, Jonah turned to see his mount approaching from the other direction. He swung the gate wide and Perseus rode out into the yard and up to Jonah.
“Well done, boy!” he said, rubbing the mount enthusiastically on the nose.
“Whoa.” Cole said with wide eyes. “Does he always come when you call him like that?”
“We’re working on it,” Jonah responded as he quickly strapped the bridle in place.
“Here, Perseus.” Cole reached into his pocket and retrieved his apple, holding it out for the horse. “He deserves it.”
The Deardons Complete Mini-Series Page 8