Emma surprised him out of his thoughts with a question. ”Are you going to tell me why you think danger is following you around?"
He nearly choked on the bite in his mouth.
She must've heard, because she wore a smug little smile. Whatever twisted enjoyment he had gotten from needling her moments ago evaporated.
"How did I end up here? In your house?" he asked.
“I’m not entirely sure. It was the middle of the night. I woke up disoriented. When I came downstairs, Daniel was there and so were you, half-dead.”
Seb remembered her brother’s glare from this morning. Daniel knew more than he was letting on. Seb needed to talk to him.
His appetite satisfied, he set the plate down and reclined against the cushions.
He relaxed his neck, his head tipping back slightly, but he didn’t stop looking at her. He’d leave as soon as he was able—a few days at the most—and right now he wanted nothing more than to fill his memory with the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
“If the men who tried to kill me find out I’m still alive, they’ll return to finish the job.”
Emma flinched. “Why do they want to kill you?”
No way was he regaling her with the sordid history of how he’d ended up in Tolliver’s employ. He’d made his choices, and he’d live with them. Emma didn’t need to know that he was an enforcer who’d had a sudden change of heart. “I know some things I’m not supposed to know.” That was technically true.
He saw the minute tension leave her shoulders. “In that case, should I ask a deputy to come round? Surely they can find who did this to you.”
“No.” His vehemence seemed to startle her. “That won’t help,” he went on more slowly.
He knew the local sheriff had tried to take down Tolliver before. Clean up his city, as it were. But nothing had stuck, and Tolliver had retaliated by killing a sheriff’s deputy—a crime that had never been pinned on him, either.
Seb had plenty of dirt on Tolliver, but if he got the law involved, he would end up implicating himself. Seb was the one who’d beat a man to within an inch of his life for not paying Tolliver’s protection fee. He was the one who’d threatened dozens of families. Stood by and looked the other way when Tolliver’s men broke into the storefront belonging to a man who wouldn’t pay up.
If Seb went to the sheriff, he would end up in prison for sure.
Thinking of all he’d done, he felt dirty just sitting across from Emma.
“As soon as I can move around a little better, I’ll be out of your hair.”
Some emotion he couldn’t read crossed her face.
“But until then, it’s better if no one knows I’m here. You should keep to your regular routines as much as possible.”
“Daniel suggested I shouldn’t leave the house,” she murmured. “Though he didn’t say it outright.”
Did Daniel suspect someone was watching?
All of a sudden, he was exhausted. His eyes became too heavy to hold open.
He needed to talk to Daniel. Maybe if he rested now, he could see the other man when he returned home.
He wished for a couple of his brothers. If Edgar and Matty were here, they’d keep watch. Keep Emma safe.
Because right this moment, he was weaker than a baby.
“Lie back down.” At the soft touch of Emma’s hands at his shoulder, he had to stifle a whimper. No matter that he was still angry at her, no matter that he was putting her in danger… he wanted her to touch his face. Wanted her to touch her lips to his.
A hysterical cackle was barely contained by gritting his teeth together.
He’d kissed her before, but the shy Emma he’d known would never initiate a kiss.
His wild thoughts had to have been coming from the pain coursing through his body. His brain trying to distract him.
He allowed her to help him get flat on his back again—hating every moment—and then before he could even murmur a thank you, he was unconscious again.
5
Emma was preparing for bed when Daniel knocked on her door. She had her hair down and was brushing the long strands to smoothness as she bade him enter.
“I’ve got another hour of reading to do,” her brother said. “I thought I’d better say good-night now.”
No one worked harder than Daniel. He defended unfortunate souls who needed help, like the young man who had been injured by factory machinery so badly that he’d lost his hand and remained unable to work. The company had let him go without a penny. Daniel had fought—and won—a settlement for him.
Her brother often worked long into the night. He was passionate about his cases, even when the people he helped couldn’t pay him. His caseload never seemed to decrease. There was always someone who needed help.
As of late, before Seb had dropped onto their doorstep, Emma had found herself lonelier than ever.
Sometimes she ached for the bustle of the homestead-turned-ranch that belonged to Seb’s father and brothers. There was always work to be done, but more than that, there was always someone around. Penny, in the big main kitchen, cooking up grub for her large family. One of the men breaking a horse in the corral. Before Emma had left, she’d been close with Breanna, who had married and moved away from home, and Velma, the young daughter of Seb’s brother Oscar.
And of course, her sister Fran was there. Fran and Edgar had increased their family by a daughter. A baby—toddler now—that Emma had never had a chance to cuddle. And Fran was in the family way again.
Emma ached to see her sister and her niece.
She hated to mention her loneliness to Daniel. When she’d lost her sight, he’d been the one to uproot the life he was building in Wyoming and move to Denver. She’d only wanted to escape the White’s family homestead. Daniel had believed he’d be able to build a clientele here and he’d been right.
He’d worked hard to make a good life for both of them.
So instead of mentioning her loneliness, she’d told him that she’d always wanted to write a book, and Daniel had found her a typist. Phillip.
But having Seb underfoot today had brought back her desire to go back to Wyoming.
“Seb told me he might be in danger,” she said.
Daniel’s constant movement stopped suddenly. Her brother had gone very still. “That’s nothing for you to worry about. He’ll be gone in a few days.”
“Do you think so? He stood up and hobbled across the room when Phillip came, and it took him all afternoon to recover.”
Her brother grumbled under his breath. “He’d better be.”
She hated to think about someone stalking Seb. She still remembered the terror of those days when Underhill—a lunatic who fancied himself in love with her—had chased her and Fran across the country. And nearly caught them. Fran had been injured and horsewhipped.
Emma had been terrified. It had taken months for her nightmares to recede.
“I wouldn’t have him here if I thought it put you in danger,” Daniel said.
She knew that. She wasn’t worried about herself, only Seb. He was so weak. How could he defend himself if he needed to?
The idea had been circling in her head all afternoon and evening. Surely there was a way for both of them to solve both of their problems.
“What if I escorted Seb home to Wyoming?” she asked, her voice more tentative than she would’ve liked.
“Out of the question,” Daniel said immediately.
“Whatever feelings there once were between us are gone.” At least on his side. She shrugged. “We’re like family now, like brother and sister.”
She couldn’t see Daniel’s expression, obviously, but she could almost feel waves of skepticism rolling off of him.
“He was very angry with me this morning.” Surely Seb’s anger meant whatever tender feelings he once had were gone. He would never have acted so poorly toward her when they’d courted.
Daniel’s footsteps let her know he was coming near. When he reached out and gent
ly patted her shoulder, it was instinct to hide her surprise. His touches were sporadic and she never knew when they were coming. Now it seemed he wanted to offer comfort.
“Did he say something untoward? I can speak to him.”
“That’s not necessary. We’ve made our peace.” It was a tenuous peace to be certain. She still wasn’t sure why Seb had been more kind in the afternoon. Tension remained between them, but it hadn’t been as toothy as it had been in the morning.
“Regardless of any impropriety,” Daniel said, “Seb is greatly injured, and I’m not certain he could look after you on a long train journey.”
“I can look after myself.”
She placed the hairbrush on her bed and turned so that she faced him more fully, or at least she hoped so.
“I go to the butcher’s and baker’s every Wednesday,” she reminded him.
“It’s not the same.” He spoke the words gently, but it didn’t stop them from slicing into Emma.
“I’m right in the middle of this big case with Elbert. If I weren’t, I could take you for a visit to Fran, if that’s what you want.”
She couldn’t help but notice he didn’t mention Seb.
“A journey like that, on your own… Emma, you must understand that I only want what’s best for you.”
He spoke the words with a finality that let her know, in his mind, the matter was closed. Part of her wanted to argue, to lay out all of the ways she’d grown in the past two years, the things she was capable of now. But another part of her spirit shrank and shriveled. Maybe Daniel was right. She’d grown confident in moving about her daily life, but boarding a train full of strangers, possibly having to change trains, finding food to eat, and also taking care of her own necessary functions… It did seem daunting.
“I know you have a lot of work waiting for you,” she said. “I’ll say good-night.”
Daniel stood there another moment, and she could feel his gaze. Did he know the smile she’d donned was false? As children, they hadn’t been close, as she was nine years his junior, but losing her sight had changed everything. Daniel had taken care of her through those first long, dark days. He’d encouraged her when her spirits were so low that she hadn’t wanted to get out of bed. She knew he loved her and only wanted good for her.
But when he left her to finish getting ready for bed, the chasm of loneliness opened up inside her.
Would it ever go away?
* * *
The next morning, Seb woke to find Daniel sitting in the chair across from him, staring at him. It was early, the sun just beginning to lighten the sky outside the windows behind Emma’s brother.
“What’s the matter?” Seb asked.
“I don’t want you under my roof any more than you want to be here,” the other man said. “I took you in as a favor to your family. Your brothers rescued Fran and Emma when I couldn’t be there for them. I figure this makes us even. But I won’t tolerate cruelty toward Emma.”
There it was. Yesterday, Emma’d claimed that Daniel wasn’t her guard dog, but she must’ve mentioned their angry exchange or Daniel wouldn’t be here now.
Daniel had always been something of a beanpole, and Seb had always thought of him as bookish. He wasn’t a man who worked with his hands, and it showed. But right now, the stiff way he held himself and the protective light in his eyes showed Seb he meant business. Good. Emma needed someone to look after her.
“Understood.” He had no intention of crossing swords with Emma again. But he was glad Daniel had come to him. They needed to talk. “How exactly did I end up on your doorstep?”
Daniel’s eyes narrowed. “I work with clients all across the city. From all different backgrounds and in all different jobs. People talk to me. I heard about it when you came to town.” He left unsaid that he also knew what Seb had been up to, though Seb didn’t doubt it. “I probably should’ve wired your pa to tell him to come and get you.”
Seb shoved himself up on his elbow, regretting the action immediately as pain clawed through his innards. “I’m my own man. I don’t need Pa to come to fetch me out of trouble like a schoolboy.”
Pa would be ashamed if he knew what Seb had been doing.
“The decisions you’ve made haven’t shown a hint of maturity.”
Seb scowled.
“I asked a couple of trustworthy fellas to keep an ear open for any news of you getting in trouble. One of them found you in the street, bleeding out. And he brought you here, thinking I’d want to help you.”
Shoot. That was not good. No matter how trustworthy Daniel thought his man was, he knew where Seb was and likely who he worked for. If he told a single soul, word could spread. Or, if Tolliver found out, he could beat Seb’s location out of Daniel’s man.
“It puts Emma in danger for me to be here.”
Daniel nodded grimly. “You got any other friends in the city who’d take you in?”
They both knew that the only kind of friends Seb had made while he’d been in Denver were the kind who’d sell him out for the right price.
“I thought about putting you up in a boarding house, but who’d wait on you? You can’t even get up. The doctor said it might take weeks for you to heal.”
Daniel wasn’t stupid. He didn’t like it any better than Seb. But it seemed like he was stuck here, at least for the time being.
Daniel stood. “I’ll bring your breakfast when it’s ready.”
It couldn’t be more obvious. He didn’t want Emma hanging around Seb any more than she needed to.
It was no more than Seb deserved, but he was still scowling when Daniel left the room.
* * *
Later that morning, his sausage and eggs long gone, Emma came in carrying a bowl in one hand. She had something tucked in the fold of her apron as she approached.
“Are you still sitting upright?” she asked.
He was, in fact. Trying to build up his tolerance for the low-grade pain in his ribs and side. “Yes, ma’am. What’ve you got there?”
She edged her way around the low table and placed the bowl on the sofa beside his knee. He saw another, smaller bowl inside the first. She carefully set the bowls side-by-side, making sure the one closest to the edge wasn’t going to fall off the sofa.
When she sat on the opposite side of the bowl, he saw the pods of unshelled peas she’d carried in her apron.
“I thought I’d help alleviate your boredom,” she said. “Hold out your hands.”
He twisted slowly, and even that careful movement pained his ribs. He held his breath against the groan that wanted to escape.
She scooped up two fistfuls of the pods and held them out to him. She misjudged how close they were with the bowl between them, and her wrist bumped his hand.
He adjusted, moving his cupped hands below her closed ones. Maybe he was a cruel person, like Daniel said, because he didn’t resist the urge to touch his fingertips against the soft skin of her wrist.
A catch in her breath was the only sound in the room. He was a cad above all cads to surprise her with a touch like that, but when else was he going to be close to her? He didn’t have the right, but he’d taken the touch anyway.
“Besides,” she said as if nothing had happened, “you eat twice as much as Daniel, so you might as well help since you being here makes more work for me.”
“You’re right.” He dropped the pods in his lap and began shelling. One bowl for the peas, one for the pods.
When Emma relaxed into the seat next to him, a feeling he wasn’t used to bubbled up beneath his ribs. Peace, maybe? It’d been too long since he hadn’t needed to guard his back, since he could just be.
“There are too many peas here for the three of us.” His fingers fell into the rhythm of shelling as if he were still the young boy helping Penny and Breanna in the kitchen. Maybe he’d shelled too many peas in his childhood to forget how.
“My garden is overflowing with peas this year,” she said. “There’s a family down the street that Daniel and I
share our bounty with occasionally. Caroline lost her husband two years ago, and she has three young children.”
A tragedy, to be sure. But now the woman had Emma looking after her.
“That’s a relief. I wasn’t looking forward to eating peas for breakfast, lunch, and supper.”
She made a little noise that meant she wasn’t impressed by his humor.
But he let his fingers keep working and turned his head to look at her. A handful of peas tinked into the bowl as his gaze swept over her face. Her hair was pulled back into a twist at the nape of her neck, but fine strands curled at her temple and forehead. Her lashes hid her eyes from him. Her head was angled slightly toward him. Though she wasn’t looking at him, it seemed her attention was on him.
He was surprised by the urge that rose up inside and almost strangled him. He wanted to reach out and cup her jaw. Craved the connection. Wanted her to turn toward him, forget about the chore, and fall into his embrace.
The wanting shook him to the core.
She wasn’t his. She never had been, not really, even though they’d made promises to each other a long time ago.
But still, there was that anger, hot and boiling, like a hot spring beneath the surface, buried deep inside.
How could he be so angry with her and still want to embrace her?
She seemed unaware of his inner turmoil.
“I was hoping you’d have some recent news from home. Fran writes so sporadically… and of course, your mother is a busy woman. I hate to pester her with correspondence too often.”
Her words had tension coiling through him and knocked the air right out of his body.
“I haven’t written or heard from anybody since I left,” he said tightly.
She frowned. “How long ago?”
“Eighteen months.”
She didn’t bother hiding her surprise and dismay. “Seb White, your mother must be worried sick!”
His fingers folded over the last of the pea pods in his lap. He shelled them quickly and then let his head flop against the sofa back.
The Cowboy's Honor Page 4