The fabric, smooth and silky, slid through her fingers as she lifted it from the brown paper wrapping and slipped it on, then crossed the room to the mirror. A few wrinkles creased the full skirt, but she hoped Sam wouldn't notice.
She took a deep breath and looked at her reflection. Her face was pale, and her lips were trembling. The gown fit perfectly, the low neckline revealing the puckered skin on the swell of one her breasts and the inside of her arm.
For several long minutes, she stood at the mirror, staring at the imperfections facing her. Sam had said he loved her, but he had no idea how the redness of the scars stood out like a beacon against the pale skin around them, how rough and abrasive that skin felt beneath her fingers.
Shadows from the lamp danced on the walls and cast a golden glow on the room. She turned the bed down, and folded her nightdress and put it away in the bureau drawer. If Sam was telling the truth about how he felt about her, she would have no need of it tonight.
She tucked a stray curl behind her ear, and slid her feet into a pair of slippers. She was about to leave the room when she heard a sound beneath the window. Glancing out, she saw Sam cross the yard and climb the steps to the porch. She waited, expecting to hear the door open. Instead, she heard the sound of a match being struck against the sole of his boot, and the rocking chair squeak.
She called out to him. "Sam?"
"What is it?"
This is it! Now or never. Taking a deep breath for courage, she said, "Please come in."
For several moments, she heard nothing except the lonely call of a coyote far away and the chirp of the crickets in the fields.
He wasn't going to come. He'd meant what he said. He didn't want her.
She took a step away from the window, tears filling her eyes once more.
Then she heard it, the door handle turning.
Oh, heavens, she muttered aloud as she heard his boots on the stairs - or was that the beating of her heart. Her knees threatened to buckle and she gripped the edge of the dressing table for support.
The door opened and Sam walked in. "What --?" He stopped in mid-sentence. His mouth fell open, and his eyes widened in shock.
"Sam?" Emma's voice was barely a whisper. Her face burned with humiliation at exposing herself to him, but she knew it was the only way. She had to find out the truth.
"Oh, my God!" Sam scrubbed his hand through his hair as his gaze rested on her scarred and inflamed skin. "Oh, my God."
Emma burst into tears. "I knew it! You're just like the rest of them. You're disgusted--" She turned away, sobs wracking her body.
Suddenly, Sam's hands were on her shoulders and he was turning her towards him. She couldn't bear to see his face, but he wouldn't allow her to look away. Cupping her face in his palms, he forced her to look up at him. Their eyes locked. "Listen to me," he said, his voice gruff. "I'm not disgusted. I didn't expect it to be that bad, and I feel awful that you had to suffer so much pain, that's all. But it doesn't disgust me."
She sniffled. "It doesn't?"
He shook his head. "How many times do I have to tell you before you believe me? I love you. All of you. In fact, I'll prove it to you." His head dipped, and she felt his lips on her neck. His lips trailed a line down her neck to the swell of her scarred breast, planting soft kisses all the way.
He slipped the gown off her shoulder, lowering the silk and baring her breast to the cool evening air. His lips captured the nipple and suckled it gently.
Her breath caught in her throat at the sensation, and her finger gripped his shoulders.
He stopped and raised his head. "Do you believe me now?"
Her heart surged with love. Only a man who truly cared for her could have done what he just had.
She nodded, her tears still moist on her lashes. "I really thought you'd turn away ..." She smiled, hardly able to believe this was happening.
"I'll never turn away from you. That's a promise."
She reached up and kissed him then, wrapping her arms around his neck and offering herself to him. When they made love again, she would hold nothing back. There would be no fear, nothing but the joy of expressing the love she felt for him.
Sam began to untie the laces on the back of Emma's gown as she worked at the buttons on his shirt. "Just so you don't forget, I plan on reminding you every chance I get for the rest of our lives."
"I'll hold you to that," she said, drawing him towards the bed.
Later, Emma lay nestled in the crook of Sam's arm as he snored gently beside her. She glanced out the window at the clear night sky. A star twinkled in the inky blackness, and she grinned.
Nathan was right. Wishes really did come true. And she'd never need to wish upon a star again. She already had everything she'd ever want.
********************************************************************
Turn the page
for a bonus excerpt
from
WILD WYOMING WIND
Chapter 1
Wyoming, 1880
"Get off my land!" Maddie Boone's finger trembled on the trigger of the Winchester in her hand, but she held the barrel steady.
The stranger drew his roan-colored stallion to a halt. Leaning on the pommel of his saddle, he met her gaze. His horse whinnied and shuffled, raising a cloud of dust in the drought-ridden yard.
"I told you to get out," Maddie repeated, adjusting the rifle's aim until it rested in the centre of his broad chest. "I'm not about to tell you again."
"Are you Mrs. Boone?" he asked.
She didn't answer. If the man didn't know who she was, she saw no reason to tell him.
"I'm looking for Caleb Boone," he went on. "Is this his place?"
Looking for Caleb? Funny, the man didn't look like most of Caleb's friends. He was far too clean, for one thing. And even from where she stood on the porch of the cabin, she could see his clothes, though creased, weren't stained or torn. And he sounded sober. Nevertheless, she wanted nothing to do with anybody from Caleb's past. "What do you want him for?"
"It's urgent."
"Well, he's not here," Maddie said. "Now get out before I fill you full of lead."
Maddie hoped the stranger didn't hear the nervous trill in her voice. She'd never actually shot a man, but there was a first time for everything. She'd had a lot of 'first times' in the past few weeks, and no doubt she'd have many more before she was finished.
To show she meant business, she raised the sight of the rifle to her eye and clicked the hammer back with her thumb.
"When will he be back?" the stranger asked, as if he wasn't the least bit worried about the possibility of being shot, even though she did notice he was sitting a little straighter in the saddle.
Should she tell him the truth? For a moment or two, she thought about it, then decided that it was none of his business. She shrugged. "I don't know."
"Then I'll wait, if you don't mind."
Damn right she minded! She wanted none of Caleb's friends anywhere near her homestead. Besides, he'd be waiting until doomsday before Caleb came back. "You can wait as long as you like," she said, "as long as you do it someplace else. Not on my land." Her curiosity got the better of her. "What do you want to see him about, anyway?"
"I apologize, ma'am," the stranger said, the corners of his lips lifting in the beginnings of a smile. "I should've introduced myself properly. The name's Langford. Jake Langford. I'm a deputy U.S. marshal."
The law.
Maddie couldn't help the bitter laugh that escaped from her lips. Where was the law a few weeks ago, when she could have used some help? "You're a lawman."
"Yes, ma'am."
"If you've come to arrest him, you're too late. He's dead." And good riddance, she added silently. "So you might as well just turn that horse around and head on back where you came from."
He didn't leave. Didn't even budge. Instead, he just sat there, watching her. Then he leaned forward and rested his hands on the saddlehorn as if he was having a pleasant conversat
ion with a friend instead of facing an armed woman with a shaky trigger finger.
"Dead? What happened?"
Maddie kept her eye squinted through the sight, the barrel aimed at the third button on his dark blue shirt. "Got caught a few weeks ago sneaking out of a woman's house in town. Her husband took exception."
"My sympathies," Jake said softly.
"It's done and over with," she murmured, as much to herself as to the marshal.
The marshal eyed her curiously. "Can I get down and speak to you?"
"I have nothing to say to you."
"It's important."
Maddie didn't answer for a few moments, considering the consequences if she allowed him to set foot on her land. Marshal or not, he was still a man, and she was a woman with no husband to protect her. The last time she'd relented and allowed a man - one of her neighbours, no less - to dismount, she'd ended up having to chase him off with a pitchfork.
"You say you're a federal marshal."
"A deputy marshal, but yes, ma'am, federal."
Maddie noticed the slight movement of his hand towards his open jacket, and her heart began to thump. Was he reaching for a gun?
"Hold it!"
The marshal's hand stopped. Then he lifted both his arms and held his hands with his palms open, facing her. "I was just going to show you my badge."
Maddie motioned with the barrel of the rifle for him to go ahead. "Slowly."
The badge pinned to his flannel shirt glistened in the afternoon sun.
"You mind if I get down now? I've been on this horse for two days and I'm a bit saddlesore."
She considered his request, then finally, she shrugged. She wasn't about to let the rifle out of her grasp, but she did lower it to waist level, keeping the barrel aimed at him. "I'm warning you. Don't you come within ten feet of me, or I'll blow so many holes in you they'll be using you to sift flour."
"Fair enough."
Maddie didn't realize just how tall the marshal was until he was standing on level ground. Even though she was standing on the porch, she barely reached past his shoulder, and she had to crane her neck to look up at him. When he took a few steps, she felt her fingers tense on the butt of the rifle. "I told you--"
"Just stretching my legs, ma'am."
As he moved, Maddie noticed he had a slight limp, and wondered if he was injured. She wasn't about to ask, though. She didn't care anyway. It could be a trick to make her let down her guard. One of Caleb's friends had tried that, too, the day she'd buried Caleb. She might not have much education, but when it came to common sense, she had more than her share.
She squinted as the setting sun moved behind his shoulder, putting his face into shadow. As if he sensed her unease at not being able to see him clearly, he took off his stained brown Stetson and ran his jacket sleeve across his forehead.
He really was a remarkable looking man. Square-jawed, with a hint of a cleft in his chin, tanned skin, and golden highlights in dusty brown hair just a shade too long to be respectable. But it was his eyes that trapped Maddie's attention. Hazel with tiny flecks of gold that seemed to sparkle in the sunshine, framed by long dark lashes.
Their eyes met, and he smiled.
For no reason, her heart began to flutter with the speed of a hummingbird's wings. Stop it! Maddie admonished herself. Didn't you learn anything from Caleb? Just because a man is nice to look at on the outside doesn't mean he's the same on the inside. If nothing else, you found that out the hard way. Don't go making the same mistakes again, taking men at face value. They turn on the charm when it suits, and then when it's too late, you find out what they're really like.
She forced her gaze away from his until her heartbeat slowed. "Now tell me what you want and then leave. I have work to do, and as you can see," she looked up at the sky, where the sun was hugging the mountains in the distance, "I'm running out of daylight."
"Do you know Caleb's brother, Tyler?"
"What about him?"
"He escaped three days ago from the state prison in Laramie. We think he's headed back here."
Maddie couldn't prevent the gasp escaping from her lips. Her heart began to thump in her chest. "Why?" she asked. "There's nothing for him here."
"There's a lot of money waiting for him here," the marshal responded. "Over ten thousand dollars that Caleb hid from the robbery that got Tyler sent to prison."
"Ten thousand dollars?" The words were little more than a whisper. Caleb had ten thousand dollars stashed somewhere, and she'd had to scrimp just to buy enough flour to make bread to feed them? Maddie shook her head in denial. "That's impossible."
"The money from the bank robbery was never found, and we know ..." he paused, as if he was judging how much information to give her, "Caleb hid it."
Maddie didn't know anything about the robbery at the bank in Eagle Creek other than what Caleb had told her. And he certainly hadn't told her he'd been part of it. Caleb had forbidden her to go into town after the robbery. She'd wondered why at the time, but she knew better than to question him. Because she'd been isolated, she didn't know anything other than that Tyler had been arrested and sent to prison.
"There's no money here, and Caleb couldn't have had anything to do with that robbery." Why she was defending him, she couldn't say. It just seemed as if she she should.
"What makes you so sure?"
Good question.
"I don't know," she replied softly. "I just can't imagine ..."
The marshal stared at her, frowning. Suspicion was evident in the firm set of his jaw. "You trying to tell me you didn't know Caleb was in on that robbery right up to his neck."
"No. I swear I had no idea." She searched the marshal's face for a sign that he believed her. For some unfathomable reason, it was important to her that he did.
"Seems to me a wife would know what her husband is doing when he's not home," the marshal said.
"That depends on the wife ... and the husband."
"Caleb didn't tell you where he went when he went out?"
Caleb hadn't told her much of anything after the first few weeks of their marriage, and if she was being honest, she didn't want to know.
"Your husband was just as guilty as his brother, Mrs. Boone, but the sheriff couldn't get enough proof. One of the girls at the Broken Horse Saloon gave him an alibi. There wasn't much evidence against Tyler either, but when it looked like he might get away with it and want his half of the loot, Caleb testified against him. We figure Tyler's headed back here to settle the score."
Maddie's thoughts strayed from the stranger to Tyler Boone, the man Caleb had introduced her to at their wedding. Tyler was even more handsome than Caleb had been, dark-haired and with a tongue smooth enough to send the hearts of half the women in town aflutter. At first, she'd even been taken in by his flattery and attention. Then, she'd learned different, just as she had learned her husband wasn't the kind, gentle man she'd fallen in love with in Denver.
Later, when she'd heard about the robbery at the bank, and Tyler's arrest for the murder of three people, one of them a little boy, she'd been horrified.
"Do you think you could put the gun down now? I'd like to get my weight off this leg, but I don't want to spook you into firing that thing. Looks like your arms are getting a bit tired, too."
He was right. The muscles in Maddie's arms were aching from the weight of the rifle, but did she dare let down her guard?
For several long moments, she considered his request. Could she trust him? His steady gaze made the decision for her. He didn't seem the least bit jumpy, she reasoned, and that was usually a good sign.
Finally, she lowered the rifle and leaned it against the side railing of the porch. She stood aside to allow him to step onto the porch and sit down in a rocker near the rose bush she'd planted when Caleb had first brought her to Wyoming. The fragrance rose to meet her nose, and she breathed deeply, wishing she had more time to sit on the porch and enjoy the scenery. But she didn't, so there was no use pining for something
she couldn't have.
She turned her attention back to the marshal. His presence seemed to fill the small porch, and as he settled in the rocking chair, Maddie couldn't help but notice his long legs stretched out in front of him. Long legs with strong, muscular thighs. She felt her face flame with embarrassment. Heavens, what kind of lady noticed things like that?
Maddie lowered herself into the other rocker and perched her bottom on the edge, ready to run. "Since Caleb's already dead, Tyler's wasting a trip then, isn't he?"
Perhaps Tyler had heard of Caleb's death, and would keep on moving. Once she'd realized the type of man Tyler was, she'd always felt a little uncomfortable around him, and she'd be quite happy if she never saw him again.
"It's unlikely he'll know Caleb's dead, since he'll be staying away from towns or people. He wants revenge, and he wants the money Caleb hid. When the jury found Tyler guilty, he swore he'd come back here and kill Caleb. I intend to be here when he arrives."
What? She couldn't have heard right? "You can't stay here," she said, her voice rising a notch.
"Why not?"
"It's ... it's impossible. This is my home. I won't allow it! You have no right to come here and take over--"
His voice softened, but still she recognized the determination and confidence in the tone. "That's where you're wrong, ma'am. I'm a federal marshal. Boone's a fugitive from a federal prison. I have jurisdiction to track him down wherever I see fit. Right now, this homestead is where I stand the best chance of nabbing him."
"You assume he's headed back here, but you have no proof," Maddie insisted.
Emma's Wish Page 23
