by Rita Hestand
Her small body seemed to fit him perfectly, melding against his like hot glue. Her breast needled his chest and he wanted nothing more than to go on kissing every part of her body. He wanted to know her like the back side of his hand. He wanted to taste her, inhale her, and feel her all over him.
It was all he could do to keep himself from throwing her on the bed. But Emma was not like other women. Emma was different and Deke had recognized that from the start. He knew he would have to give her some space, and take it slowly, although doing so would throw his own body into havoc.
"I'm not perfect Deke," she whispered between kisses.
"No? Convince me."
"This isn't right, I don't want you to think . . ." she began trying to stop the onslaught of kisses he reined on her. But the more he kissed, the less she pushed away.
"I don't think Emma. . . I feel when I'm around you."
"But I don't want . . ."
"What–my kisses?" he murmured taking her mouth once more, gently tugging on her lower lip between his teeth until her mouth opened and he absorbed her. She tasted sweet, like honey. And the eagerness of her thrusting tongue told him she did want . . . much more, just as he did.
"Emma," he whispered her name reverently, as he continued to kiss her into a mass of putty, playful putty, warm putty.
When her breasts swelled against him, he pulled away enough to assuage the aching need to touch. One hand gently cupped a full breast, as his thumb passed over it several times, the thin material creating friction.
She groaned, "Oh please . . ."
"Please don't, or please do?" He chuckled softly, his eyes burning into hers.
"I'm only human, Deke," she whispered, as his mouth lowered and captured the peak of her breast through the thin material of her gown.
She groaned uncontrollably.
Slowly he lifted his head, his eyes like liquid pools of blue. "You're as beautiful as a bluebonnet in spring, you have a heart the size of Texas, a mind as pure as a snowflake, and you know how to make a man feel ten feet tall when he kisses you. Now do you know how you stand with me, Emma?"
His gaze held her captive. "I–I think so."
"There are so many things I want to say. But I've got to know something, Emma."
"What," she barely murmured.
"Do you love my brother Clint?"
She pulled away enough to look into his eyes, "Well yes, of course I do. Like a brother."
"God I'm glad you said that." He muttered pulling her closer and needing to taste her lips once more. "And Charlie, how do you feel about Charlie, now?"
"Charlie who?"
"Good, kiss me one more time before I let you go back to that cold bed of yours."
With that he smothered her next words with a kiss that threatened to undo all his better intentions. His lips touched her nose, her eyelids, her cheek, her earlobe, her neck, and slid to the valley of her breasts. There his lips swept over her gently, in a soft caress.
He turned her loose, reluctantly, his needs unfulfilled, his heart pounding like a drum.
"Deke," she was at the door, turning the knob, but a sob broke from her and she rushed back into his arms. "I don't want to go back to my cold bed; I don't want to be alone anymore."
"Oh God, Emma," He smothered his words into her hair as he fought the urge to give in and take what she offered him. Every time he held Emma he had the unerring feeling she'd never been touched. But that couldn't be. "Emma," his mouth found hers and he scooped her into his arms.
Her arms flew around him, as she pressed herself into him. Locked in an embrace he settled her on his bed, not pulling down the covers, fighting the urges that came natural to him. His lips trailed fire over her. He felt her tremble, and was about to pull away when a scream echoed through the house like nothing he had ever heard before.
Emma blinked. Deke jumped to his feet, and listened as the scream came again and they both dashed down the hallway.
"Oh Sammie Jo–"
Deke turned white as he put an arm on Emma's shoulder at the doorway for a second. "Don't panic honey."
Chapter Nine
Emma's worst nightmare became a reality. The screams weren't coming from the bedroom, but the kitchen. It was Sammie Jo.
Deke and Emma found her lying on the floor, a chair overturned, and one arm very still.
"Oh my God," Emma covered her mouth to prevent a scream. "She wanted that candy bar this afternoon but I wouldn't let her have it, she hadn't had supper and I was afraid it would spoil her appetite. Now look. Is her arm broken?!"
"It's hard to tell." Deke seemed intent on investigating the area before touching Sammie Jo. He glanced at Emma and shook his head. "You can't blame yourself for this. It was an accident. She fell. Come here sweetheart; let's get a good look at you." Deke instructed, his voice taking on a quality of control Emma envied once more.
"Yes . . ." she scrambled closer, wondering why Sammie Jo was still screaming. Then she covered her mouth when she saw the candy bar only a few inches from the baby.
"Why is she still crying? It must be broken." Emma cried aloud. Deke examined the room carefully as he took the baby into his arms.
"I don't know yet. It's harder to tell with a baby. Most babies don't break bones at this age, but it depends on how they fall and how far, I guess. There now Sweet Pea, Daddy Deke is going to fix you up. Don't cry." Deke's voice reverberated through the house.
Sammie Jo seemed to be calmer, but her body jerked with each sob. When Deke tried to move the arm that she protected Sammie Jo screamed louder.
"Wake the others, tell them to call the emergency room at Rolling Plains Memorial and inform them what happened. We'll drive there now; it'll be quicker than waiting for an ambulance to come out here. I can't be sure it's not broken, and if it is it'll have to be set."
Emma still moved as though life no longer had a hold on her body, as though she were merely walking through each motion. She nodded, and rushed to wake Cal, her mind working overtime.
It wasn't necessary; four grown men scrambled down the hallway, half-dressed, all talking at the same time, all concerned looks on their faces.
"What's going on?" Cal asked as he neared the scene.
"Please call the hospital, Cal. Sammie Jo's been climbing again. We think her arm's broken. We have to take her in, now!"
Cal's face went white, "My God. Of course I will. You two go on. Kids don't usually break bones. Aw now, don't you worry everything is going to be all right, Emma. They know how to take care of these things."
"Damn . . ." Rusty uttered when he saw how helpless the baby looked as Deke carried her to the living room.
Then without even looking up Deke carried her straight to his truck.
"We'll follow, as soon as Dad gets the call made. Don't worry Emma, it will be all right." Jake reassured her as she ran out the door to the truck.
"Thanks," Emma murmured as she dashed towards the truck, Clint came running out to hand her a robe and watched them pull out of the drive. Deke gunned the truck into gear and sped off down the road, the dust flying.
But there was nothing reassuring about the ride to the hospital. Deke tried to dodge all the ruts in the road for the baby's sake. Sammie Jo screamed every time the arm moved. It seemed like such a long drive, and Emma's heart was pounding so hard her breath seemed to catch.
"My God, what have I done?" Emma felt close to hysterics.
"Nothing, you've done nothing, Emma." Deke reached for her hand, and covered it with his own. "You can't blame yourself for this. No one can watch a child constantly. Kids get into things. One of the first lessons a mother learns. It's no more your fault than it is mine."
"I should have been there. I knew she could get out of her bed. I knew she was curious. I should have been in there and this wouldn't have happened. I should have given her the candy when she wanted it."
"Emma, don't. Stop blaming yourself. There is no blame, it was an accident. She's going to be all right. You can't spo
il her all the time just so she won't try other ways to get things. You did right. You are teaching her rights from wrongs, that's very important, Emma," Deke affirmed.
Nothing seemed to waver his conviction. Emma grasped on to his positive attitude like a lifeline. Deke was right, everything would be all right. They'd get her to the hospital and they'd know how to treat her.
"I still don't think it's broken. There's no swelling, no bruises," Deke was saying, cradling Sammie Jo's head in his lap and glancing down at her.
"I know you are right about the teaching. But does she have to get hurt all the time? It's such a responsibility to have a tiny life in your hands." Her words died in her throat.
"It's okay Emma. I looked around, Sammie Jo climbed up on a chair and got to it, but she must have dropped it first because some of it was on the floor. The chair must have slipped when she tried to get down."
"God Deke, will the accidents ever stop?" Emma cried out the tears washing over her face uncaring.
"Don't do this Emma. It was just an accident. It's not your fault. Think of it this way, if it had been Rusty, Clint, or Jake, would you be blaming them now for not giving her the candy?"
"No. But I should have known, Deke. I'm her mother. I should have known. I'm a horrible mother. I've known it from the start. Maybe her grandparents should take her away from me," she blurted.
"Grandparents? Take her away? What are you talking about?"
"Her father's parents, they wanted to-to," she stopped because she really wasn't sure what they wanted at this point. Her mind spun, unable to force the words from her mouth. What had they wanted? Why had she run away, without knowing for sure? Why did she think she could handle this, alone? She had to be crazy.
"To what?" Deke asked glancing at her as he drove his expression hard and unrelenting.
Emma broke down, cried aloud. "They wanted to see her."
"And that's bad?"
"I thought so, at the time, yes. I mean, when Joel took off I promised–I mean, I decided I wouldn't let him or his parents have anything to do with Sammie Jo. They didn't deserve it. Even his parents didn't believe she was his, at first."
Emma realized how this made her appear and wanted to correct the impression, but the condition of her mind at this moment made no sense. It was too late for honesty, now. "I don't know. I only know I can't chance losing her."
"You aren't making much sense Emma." Deke said, his face screwed up into a frown.
But Emma couldn't talk anymore, couldn't think. Her fears were swallowing her alive, as she bent down to kiss and hold the baby close. "It's all right darling. I won't let anything happen to you again, I promise."
Once they arrived at the hospital, the emergency crew of nurses and doctors took Sammie Jo. Deke and Emma were left in the lobby.
Deke settled Emma into a comfortable chair, while he gave out as much information as he could to the receptionist. Then they waited, together. During the entire time Deke rarely took his eyes off Emma.
The rest of the Travers men came into the lobby only minutes later. Cal seemed distraught but handling it. He was out of breath and both Emma and Deke went to his side. Rusty, Clint and Jake all took turns walking up and down the corridor as Deke and Emma tried to settle Cal down.
Finally, a nurse stepped out of the room where Sammie Jo had been taken. She spoke to the receptionist, and then glanced at them.
"Are you the family?" she asked.
"Yes," they all chorused.
Emma sensed a wave of longing like she'd never known. Oh to be part of this big wonderful family, and how they had accepted her at such face value. She had lied to them. Dear God!
"She's going to be fine. She has what is commonly referred to as the "Grannie's Elbow", it's where the joint comes out of socket. It's common among children this age. But we'll want to keep her for a short period to be sure there is no other injury or internal bleeding from the fall, for observation."
Relief seemed to flow from the entire room, as though some giant breathed a sigh. Emma moved toward the nurse. "Can I see her?"
"No, not just yet. As soon as the doctor is through we will let you come in for a short period. Right now they are still working with her and the doctor ordered some x-rays. We want to make sure she isn't hurt internally. Why don't you go get a cup of coffee and come back, maybe then you can peek in on her. Are you the mother?"
"Y–yes," Emma said with a quick nod.
"We need a little more information on her. Could you step through the office and finish filling out this form, please."
Emma hesitated, and then nodded glancing at Deke through the window.
*****
"What's this?" Emma cried as she carried the kitchen trash outside the next Sunday morning and saw Deke.
"This is Dandy, Little Jim's best horse," Deke replied riding up beside her on his black stallion with another rein in his hand and a smile to his lips.
"I don't understand," Emma said going straight up to the big bay and petting her on the nose. The horse nudged her as though she appreciated the affection. "Oh, you're a pretty one. I wish I had some sugar to give you."
"Thought we'd take a ride. You haven't really seen much of the spread."
"Oh, that sounds wonderful, but ..."
"Don't worry. Dad will watch Sweet Pea."
"This is prearranged, I suppose." Emma glanced at Deke.
"Down to the last detail. Even got us a little lunch in case we're gone long." Deke hefted the wicker basket up to show her.
"Who made that?" Emma shrieked with delight.
"Clint, believe it or not. Said he was afraid you'd wake up last night and catch him in your kitchen and take the broom to him." Deke shot her an appraising look.
Her kitchen? When had it become her kitchen, Emma mused silently as she threw herself up on the bay and smiled, taking the reins.
"Smart man," Emma choked a smile from her lips, afraid to look Deke straight in the eye. She didn't and wouldn't read too much into this. Deke was merely being nice, knowing how depressed and worried she'd been since Sammie Jo came back from the hospital. They had all been so careful about where they laid things down, and putting dangerous objects out of reach. Emma especially spent hours rearranging things in the kitchen and washroom.
Now at last, Emma was comfortable again with Sammie Jo and her exploring.
The horse felt comfortable beneath her, Emma sighed. It had been so long since she had ridden, she almost forgot the pleasure. A hint of fall was in the air this morning and a light breeze filtered over Emma's cheeks as she pushed back her hair and quickly tied it with a piece of string from her pocket.
"This is nice, Deke. Really. I've missed riding. I used to ride with my brothers a lot."
"I figured as much. As at home as you are in the kitchen you still don't seem like the kind to be cooped up too long." Deke smiled, but not at her.
They rode in silence for a long while. She needed the time to loosen up and get used to being in the saddle once more. She found the bay was co-operative in every way, almost second guessing her to each step.
"She's a fine animal." Emma patted her again.
"Jim used to use her a lot when he worked the herd, but he has a ropin' horse for the branding and castrating seasons. He kinda sticks to the bays, says they are more trainable and gentler on the backside than most."
"I can believe that," Emma said with a chuckle. "So, what are we gonna see?"
"As much as you want. I thought I'd take you along the mesa, show you the outlay of the land, then there's a real pretty spot I kinda like to visit now and again. Thought you'd enjoy a picnic."
"Sounds wonderful."
Again they were silent as they rode alongside each other. Emma basked in this silent togetherness. The rightness of it thrilled her with illogical joy. Nature was a big part of this man, and in her heart Emma felt very much at home with the land and the man. But a silent voice whispered in her head not to fall in love with it. It could never be hers. Dek
e was only being kind.
An hour and a half into the trip, Deke stopped above a big bluff and stretched his arm out over the horizon. "All this is ours, Emma."
Emma did her best not to imagine he meant hers too. But the enormity of the ranch had her swooning aloud. "Oh–it's breathtaking. All this is yours? I never imagined you owned so much. I mean, our spread back home wasn't half this size."
Deke nodded. "That makes sense. You don't need as much land to graze. We raise all our own feed, and we need more pastureland than you would. It's not so big, if you compare properties, but it gets us by."
"Have you always owned this land?" Emma asked, still gazing out over the huge stretch of cattle roaming the pastures.
"As far back as my great-great-great-grandfather. He was one of the first to settle out in these parts. Wasn't much out here then. He bought up the land and moved his new bride from Virginia out here, mail order at that. He fought the Indians for it. I've often thought it must've been hard for her, out here. This part of Texas was very sparsely populated at the time. The ones who survived were lucky."
"Was he in the Civil War?"
"Nope. Didn't believe in that one. Refused to take a side. I guess he probably had to fight a lot of neighbors back then because the sentiments ran strong. There was a story, passed on by relatives and ancestors that grandma's sympathy lay with the north and Papa the south. So in order to keep things together they just sorta ignored the whole thing, as much as they could. He believed all men were free to do as they pleased, including himself. He never owned a slave. Said the war was nonsense. Raised his kids never to fight each other over anything, said it wasn't worth it. I guess it's one tradition that's stuck." Deke glanced at her, a serious look on his face as he spoke.
Deke wiped his forehead and frowned, realizing how close he'd come to fighting with Clint over her. Good thing he'd gotten some sense and realized his ancestor was right. Still, something deep down inside of him told him there were things worth fighting for. He'd always fight for his land, his cattle, and . . . his woman!
