Sunday afternoon both Henry and AJ had dozed off, leaving Sawyer and Emma Jean alone in the parlor.
The day had turned cool and Sawyer had started a fire in the fireplace. For a while the only sound was the crackle of the flames as Emma Jean focused on some darning and Sawyer looked through the bookcase, scanning the shelves as if some new reading material would suddenly appear.
Finally tired of the silence, Emma Jean gathered up her courage to ask about something she’d wondered about for some time. Sawyer had been so much more forthcoming lately, perhaps he would be ready to open up about this as well. “Do you mind if I ask a personal question?”
He turned, giving her a wary look. “Depends on the question.”
She took a breath, wondering now if she dared to pry so blatantly, if she even had that right. But he was still staring at her and she desperately wanted to know. “Do you miss your wife?” she blurted out. Then she sat back, appalled at her tactless phrasing. She’d planned to approach the subject of his former wife much more delicately.
“Nora?” His faced closed off, and for a moment she thought she really had crossed the line.
Then he rubbed his chin and moved to stir the embers in the fireplace. “I suppose there are times when I miss the idea of her, of the life I thought we’d have. Trouble was, we got married too fast, before we really knew each other.” He jabbed savagely at the burning wood. “The breakup was my fault.”
She found that hard to believe. “I’m sure you didn’t—”
“Nora knew nothing about my family beyond their names and that my father owned a mercantile when she agreed to marry me.”
“I don’t see—”
“When we headed here after my father passed, I tried to prepare her for Lanny. I wanted to avoid any awkwardness when they met.”
Emma Jean’s heart went out to him as she imagined what came next.
“But I didn’t succeed. Nora was shocked and uncomfortable with my brother. She couldn’t see past what he lacked intellectually to who he was inside.”
“If that’s why she left, then I’d say it was more a shortcoming of hers than of yours. Why, Lanny had so much kindness and love to give. Anyone who would refuse to—”
“You don’t understand.” Sawyer had his back to her now as he stared down at the fire. “Yes, Lanny made her uncomfortable, but what she couldn’t get past was that I hadn’t told her about him before we married, hadn’t told her I came from what she called damaged stock. She was horrified at the very idea that she might bear a child like Lanny. She also accused me of having deliberately moved away from here so I could trick some unsuspecting woman into marrying me, because obviously no one who knew my family situation would consent to such a union.”
Appalled not only by what that woman had said to him but also by the bitter acceptance she heard in his tone, Emma Jean put her darning aside, crossed the room, and placed a hand on his arm.
He turned his head, glancing first at her hand and then up at her face. His lips were twisted in a wry smile, but his eyes reflected a bleak rawness so stark she wanted to cry.
“Sawyer, what she said to you is a reflection of how she felt and the sort of person she was. That doesn’t make it true, not by a long shot.”
“It doesn’t make it wrong either.”
How could she get through to him? “Do you think your mother loved Lanny any less because of who he was, that she ever for one minute regretted bringing him into this world?”
He frowned and turned around to face her fully. “No, of course not. I heard her once call him her special gift from God. But she was his mother.”
“Exactly. And if you had a good, God-fearing woman for a wife who someday bore a child like Lanny, she would feel just the same.”
“But what woman would want to go into a marriage knowing that was a possibility?”
“A woman who loved you and who is willing to stand beside you to build a life together that can withstand whatever comes your way.” A woman like me.
Something in his expression shifted, intensified. His eyes darkened and his gaze searched her face as if trying to read something there.
His hand reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and without prior thought she rested her cheek in his palm.
He leaned forward, and for one breathless moment she thought he would kiss her.
Then AJ’s cries shattered the moment. Sawyer dropped his hand and stepped back as if caught with his hand in the till. He cleared his throat as he rubbed the back of his neck, obviously uncomfortable.
Emma Jean was certain the heat climbing into her cheeks was painting her a blotchy red. “I, uh, better go see what’s bothering AJ. He’s probably ready for another bottle.” And without waiting for a response, she turned and almost fled from the room.
What would have happened if AJ’s cries hadn’t interrupted them—would he have really kissed her, or had she read more into that moment than what was there? Had he thought her brazen when she’d leaned into his touch, or had he enjoyed the intimacy as much as she had?
The not knowing made her want to scream in frustration.
But it also left the door open for her to dream of what could be…
Sawyer stepped outside and braced his hands on the front porch rail. Heaven help him, had he almost kissed her in there? And if he’d read the signals right, she wouldn’t have taken it amiss if he had. Those words she’d said, coupled with the warmth of her expression, had been a balm to his soul. And oh, she’d looked so very kissable.
Trouble was, now that he was away from her very enticing, very distracting presence, he was beginning to wonder if he’d misread what she was feeling. Where he’d seen attraction, warmth, could it actually have been pity, a misguided attempt to give him hope?
There was no doubt she had a sweet, generous nature, but pity was the last thing he wanted from her.
No, he was starting to want something else entirely.
Chapter 25
Emma Jean retrieved her Sunday dress and smoothed out the wrinkles. It was one of her mother’s dresses that she’d refashioned to fit her smaller frame, and it was only slightly less faded and worn than her everyday dress. It would be so nice to have something pretty to wear.
Things between her and Sawyer had become excruciatingly polite this past week. There’d been no other opportunities for private discussions—she wasn’t sure if that was accidental or carefully orchestrated by Sawyer. He remained friendly, took a keen interest in both Henry and AJ, and complimented her freely on her cooking and other housekeeping efforts.
But there was a new distance in his interactions with her, a wall between them.
Still, there had been several times when she’d caught him staring at her in a way that made her go all warm and soft inside. If only she could get him to talk to her so they could work through whatever this was between them once and for all. She just hoped when that happened she wouldn’t be left on the outside looking in.
Well, next Thursday was Thanksgiving, and Sawyer would not be going to work at the mercantile. She planned to do it up right, with a big fancy meal and some gourds and wildflowers for decorations. After lunch she would find a way to get Sawyer alone and try to get through to him one more time.
As for the meal itself, she’d already placed an order with the butcher for a plump turkey, and she’d made a list of the vegetables and seasonings she would need for all the side dishes. The meal would be topped off with a fine pumpkin pecan pie. It was her ma’s specialty, one she had prepared on only the most special of occasions. Emma Jean decided this qualified.
The only problem was, the recipe was still out at her homeplace.
Something easily remedied.
Decision made, she removed her apron and turned to Henry.
“I need something from out at the farm.”
“What is it?”
“One of Ma’s old recipes.”
“You want me to get it for you when me and Mr. Flynn go ten
d the animals tomorrow?”
“I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t we go out there and get it now?”
“But…”
“I know you’ve been riding in a wagon lately, but it’s not so long a walk.”
“No, it’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“Well, we’d have to take AJ with us.”
She had the impression that wasn’t what he’d started to say. “Of course. But it’s a nice day and not very cold. We’ll bundle him up in his buggy and he’ll be just fine.”
“But what if Mr. Flynn doesn’t want us to go all that way with AJ? Shouldn’t we ask him first?”
“No need to bother him. We’ll probably be back before he comes home for lunch. And I’ll leave him a note, just in case.” She gave him a questioning look. “Do you not want to go, is that it? I suppose I could leave you here as long as you promise to stay inside and practice your lessons.”
“No, that’s not it. I want to go with you.”
“Then let’s bundle up AJ and head on out.” She nudged him with her hip. “And I’ve dreamed up a brand-new story to tell you and AJ while we walk.”
Thirty minutes later, as they neared the homeplace, Henry slowed down a bit. Then he stopped altogether. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
So he was finally ready to let her know what was bothering him. “And what’s that?”
“Mr. Flynn has been doing some work around our place.”
That wasn’t at all what she’d been expecting. “What kind of work?”
“He cut up that tree that fell, patched the roof, fixed the barn door—that sort of thing.”
“I see.” It would be interesting to know what had motivated his generosity.
“Are you mad? I know you don’t like it when folks just give us stuff, but Mr. Flynn said it wasn’t charity, that we’d earned it.”
She smiled down at her brother. “I wish he would have talked to me about it first, but no, I’m not mad. I reckon he was just being neighborly.”
“And he brought extra feed for the chickens too. But he said that part was my payment for helping out at the store. That and some licorice whips.”
“I’d say that was mighty generous of him.”
Henry started walking again. “I’m glad he’s not mad at us anymore.”
“Me too.”
As they turned the corner and the homeplace came into view, Emma Jean immediately saw the changes. How had Sawyer accomplished so much on his own in just a few days?
When the time came for her and Henry to move back here, at least she would have the assurance that their home was weathertight.
She paused at the foot of the porch steps. It would be easier to leave the baby buggy here and carry AJ inside than to try to get the buggy up the steps.
Scooping the baby up, careful to keep his blanket snugly wrapped around him, she nodded to Henry.
“Would you get AJ’s bottle out of the buggy for me please? I’ll feed him before we head back.”
She held AJ out and did a little twirl which made him giggle. Was there any lovelier sound than a baby’s laughter?
“What a sweet boy you are. You just wait and see, Sawyer won’t be able to give you up.”
The house door was flung open, startling her. Who—
She heard Henry’s sharp intake of breath, and her smile froze on her lips as she recognized the man stepping onto the porch.
He gave her a wolfish smile. “Hello Emma Jean. What’s the matter, ain’t you glad to see your pa?”
Chapter 26
Emma Jean’s free hand automatically went around Henry’s shoulder as he shrank against her. “What are you doing back here?” She did her best not to glance at the gun belt he wore at his waist.
“Now is that any way to greet your pa?”
“It’s not like you worried about family ties when you left town.”
His expression darkened. Then AJ gave a little cry, drawing Clyde’s attention to the baby.
“Who’s the brat? I ain’t been gone long enough for it to be yours.”
Emma Jean gave Henry’s shoulder a quick squeeze, then released him so she could place the infant back in his carriage, out of her father’s sight. “This is AJ. I got a job taking care of him. And he’s only fussing ’cause he’s hungry.”
“Then feed him or do whatever you need to do to shut him up.”
Emma Jean took the bottle from Henry and bent over the carriage to hold it to AJ’s lips.
“So what fool trusted you enough to take care of their kid?”
He’d moved to the top of the steps, and she prayed he wouldn’t come any closer. And there was no telling what he would do if she brought up Sawyer’s name. “Mr. and Mrs. Shultz. They came to town after you left.”
“That explains it—they didn’t know any better.” The jeering snicker that accompanied his words was painfully familiar.
Emma Jean held her peace but didn’t drop her gaze.
When he didn’t get a rise from her, he changed tactics and stepped off the porch. “If you been working for those folks, you must have earned some money. Where is it?”
How could he need money after all he’d stolen?
She straightened, hoping AJ had gotten enough milk to keep him quiet for a little while. “I’m not getting paid in cash.”
His lips drew back in a near snarl. “You wouldn’t lie to me now, would you, girl?”
She had to calm him down before things got really ugly. “Of course not—we get paid in other ways. We eat all our meals with the family. And you must have noticed all the repairs around here—that’s part of our pay as well.” She shifted so that she was in front of Henry. If she could keep their pa talking and focused on her, perhaps her brother could slip away.
“Fool girl.” He grabbed her wrist, squeezing hard enough to make her cry out. “You let someone take advantage of you that way.”
He let go of her, but she held her ground. “I think I got a fair trade out of this.” She moved a hand behind her back and made a shooing motion, hoping Henry would get the message. “Why do you care? Don’t you have all that money you stole from the town?”
“The town was just gonna spend it on that useless school. Besides, I’m part of this town too, but nobody cared what I thought.”
Is that how he’d justified what he’d done?
Then he rubbed his jaw. “Anyway, there’s not much of it left.”
“Let me guess, you lost it all on cards and liquor.”
“Don’t you take that tone with me, girl.”
Emma Jean tried to rein herself back in. She wanted to keep him distracted but not get him riled up. And frustratingly, Henry had moved back to her side, not slipped away. Her brother either hadn’t understood her signal or refused to abandon her.
“Even if you ain’t getting paid for taking care of the brat, I know all about those blankets you make for the peddler. Where’s that money?”
Had he conveniently forgotten he’d destroyed her loom? “Mr. O’Hurley hasn’t been through this way in months, so I haven’t been able to sell him anything. And it’s not like anyone in this town would buy something direct from me.” She allowed some bitterness to leak into her voice.
“You wouldn’t be holding out on me, would you?”
She added a surly tone to her voice. “I’ve even lost all my laundry customers since you”—she hesitated a moment, then continued—“since you did what you did last summer.” She squeezed Henry’s shoulder again. “Until I got this job taking care of AJ, Henry and I were barely getting by.”
“Useless, both of you.” He shook his head in disgust. “Well, at least you can get in here and cook me a meal.”
“Something to eat before you leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Not anytime soon anyway.”
Her gut tightened. How was she going to get herself and the two boys out of this? “But if someone finds you—”
He waved a hand dismis
sively. “Nobody would think to look for me here after all this time, and it’s not like we ever get any visitors out this way.”
“If I don’t get AJ back to his family, they’ll come looking for him before nightfall.” She remembered the note she’d left for Sawyer and felt suddenly queasy. There was no telling what would happen if he showed up here looking for them. If her pa got the drop on him and shot him the way he had Lanny…
She couldn’t even finish that thought.
He stroked his chin a moment, then jabbed a finger in her direction. “You take that baby back to his folks and tell them you quit. Make up an excuse if you need to, but don’t mention me. Then you come right back here. You understand?”
Emma Jean nodded, trying to hide her relief. She took the handle of the baby buggy and nodded to Henry. “Come on, let’s go.”
“No.” Her pa’s command stopped them before they’d taken a step. “Henry stays here with me.”
She pulled her brother to her side. “But—”
“He’s my insurance to make sure you don’t go blabbing to anyone about me being here. If someone comes gunning for me, I may have to take a hostage with me to make sure I get away clean.”
Henry looked up at her with wide, frightened eyes. Why oh why hadn’t he slipped away when she gave him the signal?
She pasted a smile on her face and held Henry’s gaze, trying to reassure him by force of will. “I won’t be gone long.”
“See that you’re not.” Her pa waved a hand. “Get over here, boy.”
Henry’s head dropped and his shoulders slumped, but he did as he was told.
As soon as he was within reach, Clyde gave the boy a shove toward the house. “Get on inside with you.”
Emma Jean gave her brother a silent promise that she’d be quick, then pushed the buggy back toward town with hands that trembled. Surely Pa wouldn’t hurt Henry. But she knew from experience just how unpredictable his bursts of temper could be.
What was she going to tell Sawyer? She couldn’t tell him the truth, couldn’t risk either him or Henry getting hurt. But she had to give him a good reason for quitting if she wanted him to believe her. He was too good a guy to let her go if he thought she was in trouble.
Sawyer (Bachelors And Babies Book 6) Page 11
