CHAPTER ONE
March 12, 2011…
Emma flopped back onto her bed with a groan. She hated mornings. No matter how much sleep she got, and she slept a lot, it never seemed to be enough. As she lay there, she mentally recited the reasons she had to get out of bed. Breakfast, shower, school… She’d be late if she didn’t wake up, and if she showed up late to her first class one more time Mr. Schneider was going to give her detention. And when she stressed about getting there on time, her whole day was thrown off.
None of these reasons apparently mattered to her tired body, as it kept trying to lull her mind back to sleep. It was only through a heroic effort on her part that she managed to resist the urge to sleep. Emma cracked open an eyelid and glanced at the clock next to her bed: 7 a.m. About two hours before Emma ever wanted to be awake. What had students ever done to deserve the punishment of school beginning at eight in the morning?
As she watched another minute tick by on the clock, Emma realized she was just delaying the inevitable. Mentally saying a sad farewell to the comforting warmth of her bed, she slowly sat up and placed her feet on the floor. Sleepily rubbing her eyes, she shuffled out of her room and followed the delicious smell of French toast and bacon down the stairs and into the kitchen.
The house she lived in with her adopted family, the Wellworths, was a beautiful country-style house with hardwood floors and large windows framed by flower print curtains. Outside, a white picket fence lined the impeccable property. Bright flowerbeds showed off their splashes of color against the white fence across the perfectly trimmed green grass of the yard. Inside, the house was decorated with cheerful colors that could have competed with the flowerbeds in the front of the property. There were more floral prints than Emma could handle. As usual, everything was spotless and perfect.
Emma stumbled her way to her seat at the table across from Morgan, her entire focus centered on staying awake and upright.
“Finally,” Morgan drawled in a long-suffering voice. “Can we eat now, Mom?”
Emma glanced up in time to catch the glare Morgan shot her way. Morgan was already dressed in dark pants and a light brown jacket, her pale blonde hair styled in graceful straight layers and her make-up flawless. Just once Emma wished she could see Morgan looking like a train wreck in the morning.
Emma ignored Morgan’s obvious annoyance, choosing instead to focus on the plate of French toast Kathryn was carrying to the table. The ability for speech always seemed to elude Emma before she had had something to eat, and it astonished her on a daily basis how many things Kathryn could think of to say before breakfast.
“Good morning, dear!” Kathryn greeted Emma cheerfully as she placed the plate on the table. “Did you sleep well last night?”
If there was ever any question of where Morgan came from, all anyone had to do was look at Kathryn. The same pale blonde hair brushed Kathryn’s shoulders in a classy, elegant style she had kept for years. The same beautiful features and pale blue eyes showed on both women’s faces. But where Morgan was cold, Kathryn’s eyes glowed with friendly warmth and her mouth was much quicker to smile than sneer. It was easy to imagine her as the cheerleader she had been in high school and college. Emma never understood why Morgan complained so much about looking like her mother.
Emma managed to nod her head in response to Kathryn’s question, quickly grabbing the plate of French toast and snagging two slices before Morgan snatched the plate away from her. Not to be outdone, Morgan grabbed the syrup from the table and slowly drizzled it on her French toast as Emma glared at her, impatiently waiting for her to finish.
“That’s great!” Kathryn said, spreading a thin layer of butter on her French toast. She didn’t notice Morgan keeping the syrup just out of Emma’s reach. “I just love a good night’s sleep, especially when I get to wake up to a morning as beautiful as this one. There is nothing quite like waking up to the sound of birds singing and getting to watch the sun rise.”
Emma just grunted noncommittally. Morgan had pushed the syrup as far away from Emma as possible and was gloatingly eating her breakfast while Emma just sat there and glared. Morgan smirked at her and, for just a moment, a tiny moment, Emma wished she could do something to wipe that smug grin off of Morgan’s face.
As soon as the thought popped into her head, sharp pain stabbed at her temples; the beginning of one of her headaches. Emma winced and pressed the heel of her palm against her temple, glaring more obviously at Morgan, who glared back with equal zeal. Both girls were focused so intently on each other that they didn’t notice the syrup beginning to tremble on the table.
“Good morning ladies.”
Steve, their dad, walked behind Morgan to his seat at the table, snagging the syrup away from her and handing it to Emma. Emma gave him a grateful smile as he sat down and winked in return.
“Morgan,” he said, directing attention onto her as she hurried to eat her French toast, “Have you gotten any leads on jobs yet?”
At her father’s question Morgan’s expression turned sour. “No,” she said sullenly. “No one is hiring right now.”
“That’s not true, dear,” her mother replied. “Mrs. White was just asking our church group last week if we knew anyone who could work in her bookstore part time while she took care of her mother who is about to have surgery. I could tell her you’re available.”
“A bookstore? No thanks.” Morgan said, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “How lame of a job would that be?”
“I’d like to work there,” Emma spoke up. Kathryn looked a little startled to hear Emma speak, but she quickly recovered and gave her a big smile.
“Are you sure, dear?” she asked. “It’s not going to be very exciting. I’m sure you have other things you’d rather do.”
Emma shrugged. “I could use the extra money.”
Kathryn smiled. “Alright then, I’ll give her a call this afternoon and let her know that you’re interested.”
“And Morgan, you and I can discuss different employment options this afternoon when I get back from the office,” Steve said firmly, before standing up and taking his plate to the sink. Morgan made a face at him behind his back, grumbling under her breath about how unfair he was being. Emma stood up from the table and grabbed her plate, as well, careful not to make eye contact with Morgan as she walked to the kitchen to put her dishes away. Then she was out of the kitchen and darting up the stairs, not slowing down until she shut the door behind her.
Emma glanced at the clock on her bedside table. 7:15 displayed in glowing blue numbers. She had fifteen minutes to finish getting ready before she had to leave. Grabbing the first clothes she could find, Emma quickly got dressed and rushed to the bathroom to brush her teeth and drag a brush through her hair.
Glancing at her reflection, Emma grimaced at how tired she looked. She didn’t have a lot of time to do her make-up, so she quickly put on eye liner and mascara, accepting the fact that she would just have to look as tired as she felt.
With two minutes left before she had to leave, Emma grabbed her backpack off the floor next to her desk and threw it on her bed, stuffing the books that were scattered on the desk into it. Once she had managed to stuff them in with the other books that were already in her bag, she wrestled to close the bulging backpack and glanced around the room. She was missing something, she knew it. Deciding it must not be that important, Emma grabbed her backpack and ran out of her room. Two seconds later she ran back in.
“Shoes,” she muttered to herself. “Shoes are important.”
She found one of the soft brown boots she wanted and sat on her bed to pull it on over her jeans as she searched for the other one. It took a few seconds to remember she had kicked it under the bed at some point. Dropping to her hands and knees, she reached under her bed for the other boot. As she struggled to pull it on, she looked at the clock again: 7:31. She was officially running late.
“Great,” she muttered, yanking the boot on.
Jumping up, Emma grabbed her
backpack from the bed and her favorite necklace from the dresser and ran out of her room for the second time. The house had a three car garage but Morgan had claimed the third car lot as soon as she had turned sixteen, a month before Emma, so Emma parked her small Toyota Celica next to the house on the gravel. She heard Morgan’s garage door open but didn’t look up as she dug through the front pocket of her backpack for her keys. Then she heard Morgan’s voice behind her.
“Looking for these?” Morgan taunted.
Emma got a sinking feeling in her stomach as she turned around to see Morgan dangling Emma’s keys from her finger.
“Give me my keys, Morgan, I don’t have time to play games with you right now.” Emma said, holding out her hand. A headache started building right behind her forehead as she watched Morgan’s lips curl into a smirk.
“I’m not playing any games,” Morgan said innocently. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m not mad at you for making me look bad in front of my parents. You know, by volunteering for that job I didn’t want.”
Morgan always referred to Kathryn and Steve as “my parents”.
“That’s great,” Emma cut in impatiently, conscious of the time being wasted as Morgan kept her there. “Can I have my keys now?”
“At first, I was mad,” Morgan continued as if Emma hadn’t spoken. “After all, you did it just to make me look bad.”
“I did not!” Emma protested, but Morgan raised a hand to silence her.
“Then I thought about it and I realized it is a great idea for you to get a job because that will mean less time around you,” Morgan said with a sneer.
“I’m glad I could help,” Emma replied drily. She didn’t have time for Morgan’s dramatics right now. “Now, will you give me my keys, please?”
Morgan playfully dangled the keys just out of Emma’s reach. “Aren’t you going to get in trouble if you’re late to class?” she asked sweetly. “I heard Mr. Schneider say he was going to give you detention if you were tardy again today. Little Emma Rose, spending another Saturday in detention.”
The dull ache was now a full-blown pain in her head. Emma rubbed her forehead and narrowed her eyes against the stabbing pain. Before she had a chance to reply, Kathryn poked her head out of the garage.
“Girls? What are you still doing here? You’re going to be late!” she exclaimed, flapping her hands in a shooing gesture.
“I was just giving Emma her keys,” Morgan replied, “She forgot them on the entryway table.”
Morgan held the keys out to Emma, but dropped them just as Emma went to reach for them. Emma’s hand snaked through the air, but just as she was about to grasp the keys a large shadow flitted into the corner of her vision and she flinched away. The keys fell to the ground in a rattling heap. Morgan snorted in amusement.
“Freak,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she walked to her car.
Emma glanced to the side where she had seen the shadow, but nothing was there. Regaining her composure, Emma stuck her tongue out at Morgan’s back. Childish, but it made her feel a little better. Scooping her keys off the ground, Emma ran to her car and jumped in. 7:40. Emma groaned as she shifted her car into reverse and pulled out of the driveway. She was going to be late to class. She hoped Mr. Schneider was in a good mood today.
CHAPTER TWO
The Forgeron Legacy Page 2
