A Kiss for Emily (Emily Stokes Series)

by J. P. Galuska

“Oh, just never mind.”

  Sam laughed. “You are just so dang cute when you get all pouty. And in case you still want to know, the den is just over yonder.” He seemed to point past a dip in the grass.

  As my cheek color returned to normal, Sam began explaining to me how the ice age affected our area of Kansas uniquely. Somewhere between lush green plants and rich soil, I finished mentally chastising myself for ever thinking such ridiculous and horrible thoughts about Sam. He was wonderful.

  I looked up at him in approval; he was still going on about fossils. I reached for his hand and held it. At first he stiffened, then relaxed. The mysterious taste that was becoming less mysterious as the day went by returned. What kind of aftershave does he wear, anyway? And why can I taste it when we touch? That is soooo bizarre.

  “Have you ever hopped aboard a moving train?” I asked.

  “What kind of question is that?”

  “Oh, just a silly one,” I said, thinking about the trains that rumble past my house.

  Midway up an incline, about a football field’s length farther than what I had expected over yonder to be, Sam pointed to some unusual looking plants called button snakeroot. He informed me that the Native Americans used it for healing purposes including toothaches and treating snakebites. Rattlesnakes came to mind.

  “How many kinds of poisonous snakes are there in Kansas?”

  “‘Bout five.”

  “Five? Do any of them live around here?”

  “Yep.”

  “In the grass?”

  “And in the woods.”

  “Varmints.” I scowled.

  He smiled at my use of the word as I took notice to the grass, careful not to step on a snake.

  “I wouldn’t be troubled over a snake bite, Miss Emily, it’s more likely you’ll be attacked by a rabid animal,” Sam warned.

  “Like, as in foaming-mouth rabies?” My mid-morning paranoia came to mind and my stomach suddenly turned heavy. “I sure hope you can keep up with all this protecting I’m in need of, Sam Easley!” I went to poke him in the ribs.

  “Stop!” Sam’s entire body stiffened.

  Our hands ripped apart. I stood there, blinking. Waiting. “What?” I asked, startled and wide-eyed.

  “I’m… ticklish.”

  I looked at him, not believing a word he just uttered. The something’s weird thing was going on again.

  “Very ticklish.”

  A big, fat dilemma stared me in the face. Minutes ago, I told Sam I’d accept anything he told me as truth. Now I wasn’t so sure that was in my best interests. But why would he lie about being ticklish? The knot in my gut told me to make up any possible excuse and leave. The palpitations in my heart insisted that I’d never find another guy like Sam. “Okay.” The word slid slowly off my tongue as I decided not to hold his hand. “Are we almost there?”

  “Yes ma’am, we are,” he said, overly up-beat. He pointed to a very large boulder, presumably brought in by an ice age glacier. The den, he informed me, was thirty paces to the left.

  We approached quietly, finally stopping a few yards from the boulder. Sam let out a whistle. His eyes danced as he smiled at me, then he took my hand and gave it a quick squeeze. I automatically licked my lips to brush the taste off my tongue. He whistled again.

  Two ears stuck up from the tall grass. “Here, Lucy,” he called, and whistled one more time.

  I watched as the grass ruffled in a line towards us. A red fox, no taller than my knees, emerged from the trail and sniffed my shoes.

  “Oh, Sam!” I exclaimed too loudly and startled the fox.

  “Easy girl.” Sam bent down to stoke her beautiful hair.

  “Can I pet her?”

  “You can try.”

  “Hello, pretty girl.” I held out my hand for her to smell. She sniffed at it and seemed satisfied. I rubbed her head twice, and then continued down her back. She tucked her tail between her hind legs.

  Obviously someone who can charm animals must have a good heart. Now I really felt foolish for thinking the terrible thoughts about Sam.

  “This boggles my mind. How do you do this?” I heard myself asking.

  “How do I do what?” Sam chuckled, squatting down to scratch the fox’s belly.

  “Get animals to trust you?”

  “What can I say? I’m a likable guy.”

  I rolled my eyes, but had to agree.

  Still squatting, Sam looked up at me with puppy dog eyes of his own. “You like me.”

  Blushing, but with all the coyness I could muster, “How do you know that?”

  “You came to visit your radishes.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  SPECULATIONS

  WE SPENT THE REST OF THE AFTERNOON wandering like nomads through the field, forest, and creek, talking about stuff and discovering Mother Nature’s natural food supply. First we found a late bunch of morel mushrooms.

  “This is disgusting.” I spit and scraped my tongue with my fingernail while Sam laughed.

  “I forget that they are much better cooked in butter.”

  I gave Sam a curious look.

  Then we found a patch of wild strawberries. He passed, stating that he was still full from a very large breakfast, but I stuffed one berry in after another. This gave Sam more time to talk about all the stuff he knew.

  “Look at that.” The sun was fading into another fantastic display of color.

  “Wow! It’s so easy to lose track of time when we’re together. You should probably get going soon, huh?” His voiced sounded lower than usual.

  I searched his face to see if I might have said something that offended him. His expression did not indicate so.

  “Yeah, I guess dinner will be ready soon,” I replied.

  “If your Ma is anything like mine was, she’ll want you at the table when it’s still hot.”

  I nodded. “Would you like to join us?”

  “Thanks, but no. It would be rude to show up unannounced. I have errands to run, anyway.”

  That bit of information made me feel a little better.

  We followed the creek back to my house and were now standing in front of the tree that had the carved sign for me to follow. I could hear Kat trying to yell over the sound of the riding lawnmower.

  “Sam—” my heart started racing. “Thanks.” I began envisioning our goodbye kiss. After all, he said that he liked me, and he knew I liked him. Or at least his radishes.

  “It’s been a good day.” Sam said. He shifted his weight to his other foot. “It’s going to rain tomorrow, so I thought I’d let you know I’ll be heading into town.”

  “Oh? I thought it was supposed to be nice all week.”

  “Trust a farmer for accurate forecasting. We know,” he said, tapping his temple.

  “I’m realizing that,” I said with a nod. “Will you be busy all day?”

  “It’s hard to say.”

  I didn’t do a good job covering up my disappointment.

  “Not to fret. I’ll see you again soon.” His lips curved into a simple smile before folding his hands behind his back. Then he leaned forward.

  Oh! My! Gosh! He was going to kiss me. Suddenly, I felt very unprepared and the butterflies came halfway up my throat. I swallowed hard. I closed my eyes.

  I felt the slightest touch of his lips against mine. His kiss was gentle and— Whoa, baby! My whole body lit up. I must have made some kind of noise because the kiss ended quickly.

  Looking very surprised he asked, “Did that hurt?”

  I barely received a kiss at all and now he was asking me if I was in pain? I wanted to die…of embarrassment! No, I wasn’t in pain. I think I had my first orgasm. “Um, I think I backed into a pricker bush.”

  Sam’s face twisted in curiosity. “Can I kiss you again, away from the pricker bush?”

  For Pete’s sake! The kiss I’d been waiting for, dreaming about. Yes, I wanted another kiss but something very peculiar was going on. My heart was beating so hard it started to burn. Heart
attack? No, panic attack? “I don’t think I can.”

  “Oh.” Sam gave me a look of confusion.

  Still recovering, I hoped my inexperience with boys wasn’t that obvious. I didn’t know what to do next, so I smiled. “Um, are you sure you won’t come in?”

  He smiled. “Thank you again, but no.”

  Shuffling the leaves with my shoe, I tried to invent new ways to prolong our togetherness. Although totally unrealistic, I never wanted to be apart from him again. When I looked up he was gone.

  How does he do that? There was something definitely baffling about Sam Easley.

  By the time I reached the edge of our lawn, Kat was using a creative form of sign language to communicate it was time for dinner. Dad gave her the thumbs up signal and headed toward the shed to park the John Deere.

  Kat noticed me entering the yard from the woods. “Where have you been?”

  “With Sam. How was camp?” I noticed a silver necklace around her neck. “What’s this?”

  Kitty defensively held her hand across her neck.

  “Hey, that’s mine.” I hadn’t even noticed that the locket was missing from my car. “When did you take it?”

  “You don’t even like it,” Kat said sourly.

  “You should have at least asked.” You little thief. I wondered what else she had of mine.

  “Can I keep it?” A fake grin stretched from ear to ear.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Yea!” Kat jumped up and spun a three-sixty mid-air.

  As we ate, Mom reported that if my hand-eye coordination continued to be a problem, Dr. Lui would like to see me, but otherwise, she suggested an appointment with an ophthalmologist. I let her know that it hadn’t bothered me at all today, but when I was with Sam, I kept having the strangest taste in my mouth.

  “Like what?” Mom inquired.

  “Well, it’s difficult to explain. It seems to happen whenever I get too close to him or he touches me.” I felt Dad’s eyes on me. I looked at him, annoyed. “Stop speculating things, Dad.”

  “Izzy, maybe we are sending the wrong child to camp this year.” Dad always seemed to find great pleasure in exasperating me.

  “Oh, John!” Mom’s eyes hit the ceiling and then returned her attention on me. “Tell me more about the taste, Em.”

  “It was like a smell I could taste. If men’s cologne would taste as good as it smelled, it’s like that.”

  “Men’s cologne?” Dad interrupted. “Who is this guy, and why haven’t I been introduced yet?”

  “Maybe you should stop licking his neck!” Kat blurted out.

  “Shut up!” I didn’t miss whacking her arm.

  “Good Lord, I knew an older man was trouble!” Dad pushed his chair back from the table.

  “John—”

  Bedlam erupted. Voices escalated. A scene of mad confusion busy with pointed fingers blurred the dinner table. Somebody please, just load us up in the paddy wagon and take us all straight to the asylum.

  Chapter Twenty

  ANOTHER DAY IN PARADISE

  ALEX WAS ACCUSTOMED TO THE DARK. Flattened cardboard boxes were nailed across the windows to prevent any light from entering his chamber of torment. He let the phone slip out of his hand and onto the floor. He wanted so badly to talk to her.

  Of course he would never tell her of his recent acts—she wouldn’t approve. Yet, he had no other choice. He had to have it. And he had to win her back. She would see it his way. He was sure of that.

  Alex dropped the white rock in the end of the pipe, stroked the wheel on the lighter with his thumb, closed his eyes, and felt the rush; the voice of reason blurred further.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  A GAME OF BACKGAMMON

  SOMETIMES, waking up to rain can be interpreted as a natural way of cleansing whatever it is that needs cleaning. Other times, it signifies the start of a bad day. For John Stokes, rain equated to less than three customers so far this morning. He had already inventoried the entire store contents in an effort to resist the urge to use the computer to search his daughter’s new love interest. A temptation he could stand no more.

  Let’s see what kind of a place he’s got, John thought to himself as he typed in “Silver Lake, Kansas”, and hit “enter.” Clicking on “bird’s eye view,” John decided to start at his own property as a reference point.

  After admiring the satellite image of his new house, he briefly fantasized about another sunny afternoon napping in his hammock. Once satisfied, he began his search. With a half-mile of his house, the only place he found was a small, dilapidated building to the northeast. Panning out another half-mile, he made another circular sweep. This time, he located a home to the southwest, but it appeared to be a residential home, rather than a farmhouse. Becoming annoyed, he panned out further still until his own home was a mere dot on the screen. The closest farmhouse was miles away. Puzzled, John sat quietly and thought back to the night Emily first spoke of the farm. Did she drive to his farm? John concentrated hard on the conversation. No, she said she went for a walk!

  John stared at the screen. He searched the scenery for a clue. “Talk to me,” he whispered beneath his breath.

  He was deep in concentration when the door alarm buzzed.

  “Yeigh!” John jumped completely off his stool, knocking a second stool over in the process. Holding his hand over his heart, he greeted his long-time friend. “Good God, Bob. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

  “I thought you might be in need of an opponent for backgammon, seeing how it’s raining today,” Bob chuckled, holding up the brushed leather-bound case.

  “That would be great.” John loved any game that legally allowed cheating.

  Bob peered around John, to see the computer screen. “Are you looking for more land already?”

  “Oh, no,” John snickered in embarrassment at being caught snooping into his daughter’s business. “I heard there was a farmhouse located near my place and was trying to find it, that’s all.”

  Bob happened to be a retired farmer. “The only farm near your place would be the old abandoned Easley farm that burned down back in ’36. Years of the Great Dust Bowl.” Bob’s weathered hand scratched his chin. “I always wanted that chunk of land, but it’s never gone up for sale. I even called Kansas Records to inquire about the land—turns out the property taxes are paid out of Louisiana.”

  Bob walked over to a counter near the cash register and set the leather case on top of the glass showcase. “The story behind the land is real tragic, though.” His face cringed as he continued to set up the game. “They were into moonshine, ya know, as a remnant from the Prohibition, and naturally, the still was kept out in the barn. Well, the story goes that the wife went out into the barn to fetch something and knocked the oil lantern over. She grabbed what she thought was a pail of water and threw it on the small fire to put it out. Only it wasn’t water. It was whisky!” Bob bared his teeth as he grimaced at the thought of what occurred next.

  John leaned back, guessing what was coming.

  “The hay ignited, bursting like a bomb. Fire was everywhere. Rumor has it that the husband saw his wife running and screaming from the barn completely covered in flames. I s’pose since everything was so dry, the barn went up in flames in mere seconds. To make matters worse, the boy ran into the barn to save the horses, and the roof collapsed in on him almost immediately.” Bob shook his head in sadness as he walked over to the computer, stooped over to pick up the stool still lying on its side, and returned to the counter.

  “That’s horrible!” John exclaimed, carrying his own stool to the counter. “I can’t even imagine. Did the wife survive?”

  “Nope, but there was a daughter.” Both the men had their pieces set in position. John placed the dice in the cup and shook the first roll.

  “Easley blamed himself for the whole accident, and became completely grief-stricken. Every time he looked at the ashes from the barn, he relived the tragedy—he couldn’t take it no more so
he packed his bags and took his daughter from the area. I never heard what happened to them after they left.” Bob took a breath and continued. “But the place never went up for sale. Kind of a strange deal, if you ask me.” Bob scooped up the dice, dropped them into the shaker cup and gave them a gentle toss.

  “Louisiana, you say?” John watched his friend move his playing piece ahead. “And the last name was Easley?”

  “Yup.”

  “And that’s the only farmhouse around my place for miles?”

  “You’ve got farm land all around you, but the Easley farm is the only one that has a house on it. Otherwise, it’s your house and the Brogan’s house for miles in any direction.”

  John made his way back over to the computer and pointed to the house. “So this is Brogan’s place? Have you met them?”

  “Sure. Nice people,” Bob said, joining John beside the computer. “Their boys are already off to college, so you don’t have to worry about them making the move on your girls. Er, unless they’ve come home for the summer.”

  “Don’t get me started on that today, Bob.”

  “Fine, fine. This old thing is the remnants of the Easley place.” He gestured to the old structure a short distance from a small pond. “Like I said before, it’s been abandoned for years.”

  “For years, huh?” An uneasy feeling started to build in John. He regretted not listening closer to the details of the chaotic discussion about Emmy’s knock on the head. “Excuse me, Bob, but I need to call my wife. When I’m finished, would you like to go out for a drive?”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  A GET-TOGETHER

  MY RINGING ALARM CLOCK awoke me from a much needed deep slumber. Unfortunately, it wasn’t deep enough to erase the memories of last night’s screaming match at the dinner table.

  With covers in hand, I hesitated, realizing there was an absence of blinding sunlight casting through my bedroom window. Taking a moment to relax, I closed my eyes and listened to the hypnotic sounds of rain falling down upon the rooftop in a rhythmic pitter-patter. Sam was right. The rain had come. Like the rumble of the nearby trains, I found the rain to be very soothing as well. Each of these two sounds, one delicate, the other so powerful, were both music to my soul, much like the dichotomy I found in Sam. He was strong, yet gentle. I regarded him as the true image of gentleman.