Emma's Blaze (Fires of Cricket Bend Book 2)

by Piper, Marie

  When she looked up at him with eyes full of tears, and wetness on her cheeks, he wanted to kill someone. His heart ached at seeing her in so much turmoil. “Did you think I’d turn my back on you once I knew your story? Do you think I’m the kind of man who could do that?”

  “You were awful mad.”

  “Mad, yes. Furious. But I’m not giving up on you, Emma Sue Martin Porter Sparrow, or whatever your name is. Don’t look so surprised.”

  A sharp laugh came from Emma. “I have always found men to be full of surprises. Not usually the good kind.”

  “Darlin’, you’ve been spending time with the wrong men.”

  Emma sniffled, and fanned her face to pull herself together. “Never let them see you cry.”

  “Did Hank tell you that?”

  “No.” Emma wiped her eyes. “My mother did.”

  “You faced down death. I don’t think there’s any crime in crying. You go ahead and bawl.”

  “Why are you still here with me? I messed things up so terribly.”

  He took her hands in his. “Because I see the woman you are, and she’s worth sticking around for. Stop fighting me. I know you’re afraid that if you let a man love you, he might actually do it. But I do, I love you. And your story, as much as it is, doesn’t matter to me. Knowing I almost lost you tonight is what matters to me. There is not enough time in this world for this foolishness.”

  He kissed her, and tasted her salty tears.

  “I think you like me more than I do.”

  “I aim to fix that, in time.”

  Bill curled an arm under her legs and carried her to the bed. He lay down beside her and clutched her against him. She held onto his shirt.

  “Make love to me,” Emma whispered.

  His body responded immediately to her request, and the rough edge in her voice. Before his thoughts went too far, he stopped himself. “Not tonight. Tonight, I’m just going to hold you.”

  They slept wound together, and as far as Bill was concerned, that was enough.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-SIX

  They decided to leave the next day, rather than linger any longer. Sticking around Cricket Bend would accomplish nothing, and the ride to New Orleans would take two weeks of solid riding.

  First, Bill had to see Andrew. He’d have rather been bitten by a rattlesnake than face the man he so badly wanted to beat into the ground, but it needed to be done. His pa, the boys, everyone would have questions when he returned to the drive without Andrew. He needed to be able to answer them.

  When Bill stopped for a moment outside the jail, Emma put a hand on his back. “Would you like me to go in with you?”

  “Depends. You planning on shooting him?”

  “I can’t promise it won’t happen.”

  “Best I do it myself. I won’t be long.”

  Emma raised herself up on her toes and kissed his cheek lightly, leaving her lips on his skin for a second. Bill closed his eyes at the feeling of her, and took strength from it. Andrew hadn’t just set out to ruin the drive, or hurt him, but he’d tried to kill Emma and nearly accomplished it. Only so many sins could be forgiven. Andrew had finally crossed the line.

  “I’ll be right out here.” Emma moved aside and went back to where Orion and Maggie waited below, two noble steeds ready to carry them many more miles.

  Bill was about to open the jail door when someone opened it for him.

  A tall man in his fifties, with dark hair and a mustache and a badge, came out. Matthew followed behind, staying in the doorway.

  “Bill,” Sheriff Luke Anderson said as he squinted into the sun. “I can’t let you take him this time. Family or not.”

  “Nice to see you, Sheriff. I don’t mean to take him,” Bill answered. “I’m leaving town, headed for New Orleans. I’d just like a word with him before I go, if that’s all right.”

  “He’s ornery on account of his head hurting.” Matthew didn’t hide his grin. “Jasper got him good.”

  “He’s ornery most of the time,” Bill answered. “Tell Jasper I owe him a drink.”

  The lawmen moved aside and let him into the jail. The room was familiar to Bill, unfortunately. Memories of his brothers and cattlemen packed into the cells, grumpy from too much drinking and brawling, flooded his mind. The back area was divided into two barred cells, and each had a cot. Andrew lay on one, with his arm draped over his eyes.

  A picture of Andrew as a young boy came to Bill. He’d been rude and belligerent, and not ever a child one would call sweet, but Bill had never imagined Andrew would grow into a man who would try to kill someone. There was a sickness and a sadness in the man’s head that went deeper than Bill had ever imagined. It broke his heart to think of what he had to do.

  “Brother, you look downright cozy behind those bars.”

  Andrew sat up and smirked. “I told them you’d come to get me.” He called to the lawmen in the doorway. “You see? Didn’t I tell you?”

  “Pipe down,” Matthew answered.

  “I haven’t come to get you.” Bill hooked his thumbs in his belt. “I came to say goodbye.

  Andrew’s smile didn’t fade. “This is a poor time for making jokes, Bill. And you’ve never been particularly good at them.”

  “It’s not a joke.”

  “Bill—”

  “You tried to kill Emma.” Bill stepped toward the cell, fury growing in his belly. “You went to her room and you strangled her, meaning to kill her.”

  “She lied to you. She’s no better than me.”

  “Out of shame, and pride, and any number of foolish reasons. Yes, she lied to me, but she never set out to hurt anyone. She’s not like you at all. That’s the difference.”

  “Get me out of here.”

  Bill shook his head. “I can’t, little brother. Attempted murder is a bigger charge than starting a brawl, and it’d take more money than I got to bail you out. I couldn’t if I wanted to, and I don’t.”

  “You’re going to leave me here to hang.” Andrew’s cocky smirk vanished. “Bill, that ain’t what a brother does for another.”

  “Maybe not,” Bill replied. “But it’s what a good man does to someone who tries to hurt everyone he meets, who slaughters a longhorn for no reason and tries to slaughter a woman just the same. You tried to kill Emma, and your stupid recklessness could have killed Jess too, and any number of the rest of us. I should do worse to you.” He looked over at the Sheriff and deputy. “But, I ain’t the law. I leave these gentlemen to deal with you as they wish. From this moment, I’m washing my hands of you.”

  “Judge’ll be here next week,” Sheriff Anderson spoke up. “He’ll get a fair trial. Callie’s more than willing to tell what she saw. Between that, and what Emma told Jasper last night when Hill was fetching you, I can’t imagine he’ll wind up anywhere but a prison camp. Couple years’ hard labor ought to calm him down.”

  “I imagine so,” Bill replied. The idea of his brother laboring in a camp from morning to night didn’t make him happy, but it was the best option. Maybe breaking stones until his bones ached would chase the devil from him.

  “You do this, it’ll break Mama’s heart.” Andrew said.

  Bill cursed his brother. Pulling their mother into it was a low move, one designed to pull at Bill’s heartstrings. It worked, but not in the way Andrew had planned. “You broke her heart, or you will once we get home and she finds out what you’ve done. After losing Theo, this might even kill her. But the rest of us will be there for her, and we’ll make sure it doesn’t.”

  He turned to go.

  “I ought to tell the Sheriff and deputy that Emma is wanted for murder.” Andrew faked an embarrassed look. “Oops. I already did.”

  Panic shot through Bill. Andrew knew enough of Emma’s story to make trouble.

  Matthew stepped toward Andrew. “Shut up for once, would you?”

  The three free men left the jail.

  Emma stepped forward as they went outside. The Sheriff looked to her.
“Emma Sue Martin.”

  “That’s me,” Emma said, looking ready to face judgement. “Or it was. I’m Emma Porter now.”

  “So I’ve heard. Andrew ran his mouth and told us a few things.”

  “I have no doubt,” she answered.

  “I have to ask you. Did you kill a man named Angus Keene?”

  Emma nodded. “I think I did.”

  “Did he attack you?”

  “Yes,” she answered quickly. “He lied to get me to come west, away from my family. When I arrived at his home, he hit me and meant to have his way with me.”

  “And you killed him,” Luke Anderson concluded.

  “I threw a lantern at him,” she answered. “I ran away as fast as I could, but I think it killed him. Burned him, most likely...”

  “So, you were defending yourself.”

  “Yes,” Emma answered. “I was.”

  “You feared for your person and your life, I presume.”

  “Yes, sir. Very much.”

  Bill’s heart skipped several beats at the line of questioning. He couldn’t fathom what he’d do if Emma wound up in that second cell in the jail. Was the Sheriff planning to arrest her? He didn’t look threatening, and he spoke to her in an almost pleasant tone. Luke Anderson was a fair man, and kind. What could he be up to?

  The Sheriff adjusted his hat. “Thought it might be the case, or something like it. Don’t you worry, ma’am.” He winked at her. “Callie Lee is a close personal friend. While she was telling us all about what happened at her place, she gave me an earful about how I’d be a fool to consider you any sort of criminal.”

  “You’re not going to arrest me?”

  “I’m going to inform the judge of your version of events, once he arrives to deal with Andrew. I trust Bill here to keep tabs on you, and return you to Cricket Bend forthwith, should the Judge have questions. That said, I doubt it’ll come to that.”

  “Thank you, Sheriff,” she breathed.

  “There’s enough real criminals in the world. Don’t make sense to go chasing after folks who were just protecting themselves. You’re free to go on your way, Mrs. Porter.”

  “Thank you,” Emma repeated.

  “Thank you,” Bill added.

  Sheriff Anderson smiled. “Don’t suppose the two of you could be convinced to stay another day? Let us at least put a good meal in your belly before you go.”

  Emma took Bill’s hand in hers. “That’s appreciated, but we’ve got a long ride ahead of us.”

  “New Orleans.” Matthew said.

  “New Orleans,” Bill replied.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Emma

  Leaving Cricket Bend proved sadder than Emma had expected. Despite her initial impression that the town was dusty and dull, things had been eventful. She’d met so many people, and she understood how Callie could have cast off her wild life in a bigger city for a new life in a place like Cricket Bend.

  After being cleared by the Sheriff and a quick trip to the town clinic for Doc Gray to give one more check of her neck and bruises, she came back to the street and found one more surprise awaiting her.

  Maggie wore a brown saddle. Big saddlebags hung over her haunches.

  “You’ve ridden long enough on that blanket creation Saul concocted.” Bill smiled. “Two weeks of using that all day, and you won’t be able to walk by the time we reach New Orleans.”

  “You didn’t have to do this,” Emma said, running her fingers over the smooth leather of the saddle. A few months earlier, she would have turned up her nose at the idea of such a gift, but now it seemed prettier than any lace or gem she’d ever seen.

  He showed her how to adjust the tightness of the cinch, and how to loosen the bags as needed. When he stepped away to bid a final farewell to Deputy Frank, Haven left her husband’s side and came toward Emma. She wore an apron over her work dress, and her hair was tied back, away from her face. She held a wrapped package.

  “Your father is a miracle,” Emma said. “I thought for sure he was going to throw me in the jail right next to Andrew.”

  “Callie would have given him hell,” Haven said. “I would have too.”

  “And your husband isn’t too bad either,” Emma said, teasing Haven slightly. That she was talking friendly with a woman Hank had been involved with didn’t even seem strange. Haven was Haven, and Emma liked her.

  “I know,” Haven said. “I like him. Even when he makes me crazy.”

  “Or perhaps especially then?”

  Haven laughed, and held out the bundle.

  “What is this?” Emma asked.

  “Something I’m guessing was yours.” There was a pink tint to Haven’s cheeks.

  Emma opened one part of the cloth wrapper. Red satin glinted in the daylight. “My dress?” In her wildest dreams, she’d never imagined she’d hold the garment in her hands again.

  Her reaction seemed to confirm Haven’s thoughts. “I wore it once. I thought it was the most beautiful dress I’d ever seen. I still do.” Emma realized why Hank had been crazy about Haven, and how he’d been able to sway her away from reason. “I’ve had it ever since, hidden away in my trunk. Now that I know it’s yours, I can’t keep it another minute. I don’t want to keep it another minute. Take it, and wear it, or burn it, or whatever you choose. Be well, Emma. Write us if you have a moment, and let us know how you are.”

  “I’ll do that. Do you want me to tell him anything when I find him?”

  Haven shook her head. “No. I have nothing to say to him. But I hope you get what you’re after. The letters are inside the dress. He mentions a place called The Magnolia Crow.”

  The two women stood awkwardly before Emma extended her hand. Haven took hold of it. “You have friends here,” Haven said. “Remember that.”

  “I will.” Emma leaned in a bit. “Is there something between Callie and Jasper?”

  Haven rolled her eyes. “Don’t get me started. He’s head over heels for her.”

  Emma grinned. “I knew it. Tell her I approve.”

  “You ready?” Bill called to her. He was already seated on Orion, looking eager to depart.

  Emma went to Maggie, and lifted herself onto her new saddle. Before she turned away, she saw Callie standing and watching her. Haven stepped next to Callie. The three of them exchanged a long look—an acknowledgment that, despite their differences, the three of them shared something deeper and stranger than could ever be explained. They’d all, in their way, loved and been loved by Hank Porter, and were all a little bit worse off for it. If Emma could conclude her own trouble with the man, maybe she could give all their stories a happy ending, when it came to Hank Porter.

  Emma gave Bill a pointed look. “Let’s go to New Orleans. It might be a huge mistake…”

  Bill grinned. “Never stopped us before.”

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  New Orleans, Louisiana ~ May, 1887

  Since Emma was familiar with big cities, she enjoyed seeing New Orleans through Bill’s eyes. Obviously, he’d never seen anything like it before. In truth, neither had Emma. New Orleans was different than any other place she had ever been. By his side, Emma took in the wonder of the opulent city, which brimmed with grandeur and free-for-all revelry. After sixteen days of riding together—fifteen planned, and one extra day on account of a bad storm that had stopped them dead in their tracks—being in civilization was a startling contrast.

  They traveled into the city. The buildings grew taller around them.

  “Feels like going into the pass,” Bill said. “You know where we’re going?”

  Emma patted the pocket of her jacket. Haven’s letters, which had been in the package with her dress, crinkled under her touch. “I do. But we can’t go there, looking as we do. My boots are so caked with mud they weigh a hundred pounds. First, we need to find a place to wash up and sleep. After we’ve done that, I’ll deal with Hank.”

  “We,” Bill reminded her. “You’re not fa
cing him alone.”

  “He won’t hurt me.”

  “I’d rather not take the risk,” Bill replied in a curt tone.

  Apart from the night she’d slept in his arms in Cricket Bend, Bill still hadn’t touched her. They’d been riding for two weeks, the only company the other had. Bill had been polite and kind the whole way, but he hadn’t come close to touching her in the way a lover would, the way he had before she’d kicked him in the heart.

  His affection for her was blindingly obvious. She figured he was trying to bite his feelings back until Hank was located and dealt with. Emma felt a punch in her gut, knowing Bill was suffering, and it was all her stupid, selfish fault.

  From Haven, she had the name of a concert saloon Hank might be found at.

  The Magnolia Crow, on Royal Street.

  They finally found it. Emma’s nerves calmed a bit once she saw that it wasn’t terribly different from the saloons she’d frequented. Fine, it was bigger and decorated with an elegant iron trim on the outside railings and balconies. Outside the doors, a vast array of posters advertised all sorts of performers. Several of the performers appeared to be women who’d lost their dresses. But it was still just a saloon.

  “Ain’t that a sight,” Bill said, seeing the posters. “And this is where Hank is supposed to be?”

  “Oh, he’s here.” Emma traced one of the posters with her finger. The picture was of a lovely-faced woman, who didn’t appear to be wearing anything behind a feathered fan. There had been a poster of Emma once, and it had been strikingly similar.

  ‘The Hummingbird,’ this one read. ‘Appearing Nightly.’

  “I’d bet my life he’s here.”

  Near the Magnolia Crow stood a fine-looking hotel. After boarding the horses at a close-by livery for a few days, they entered the lobby. Bill whistled a bit at the fine decoration. Emma would have quickly breezed past it, but when she saw him looking, she stopped. Before the drive, she’d not have noticed the nonsense of all the fine decoration. Keeping the intricate carvings of the room’s walls clean probably took daily dusting. Maybe even twice a day. Who had time for such things?