For the first time in her life, Emma felt loved. And in her father’s arms, she understood what, exactly, it should feel like.
In that instant, she knew how love felt as the older man touched her not with malice or to hurt her, but to relish his child.
Emma laid her head on his chest, content to remain there, praying for time to stop as her father kissed the top of her head. “Thank the Lord for bringing you home.” His voice was gruff with emotion.
Over her father’s shoulder, she looked to Patrick and his shiny eyes met hers. She smiled at the warmth emanating from him.
And in that instant, she had no further doubt.
She was in love with her husband.
An hour later, the women continued stopping mid-sentence to cry at something. Emma was the center of attention and she didn’t mind one bit.
She told them about her life, while leaving out the worst parts of it. “I was always poor. I only had one dress and pair of shoes. But I worked here and there to make money to buy what I needed. We moved here about ten years ago. Of course, I could be wrong. I never knew time too well since one day kind of flowed to the next one.”
“Your birthday is April tenth,” Mrs. Milligan said. “We will have a huge celebration. Patrick, your parents must come as well.”
Emma didn’t think she had any tears left but, once again, she began crying. “I didn’t realize until now that we never celebrated my birthday. I asked once when it was and they told me it didn’t matter.”
Mrs. Milligan hugged her close. “You will be celebrated every single year from now on. I am sure Patrick will make sure of it.” It was comical to see Patrick’s eyebrows shoot up.
“Of course. And I will ensure my parents come for the celebration.”
“Let’s talk a minute.” Patrick pulled Emma to the other room and she was immediately engulfed in his arms and her face covered in kisses. “Stop crying please.”
How did she ever get so fortunate to be surrounded by so much love? Emma gulped back the urge to cry anew. “I am trying. I will try...”
When his lips pressed over hers, it was with the sweetest of kisses. “I think you should remain here for a day or two. Get to know them. Even if I tried to take you home in the morning, I’m sure there would be protests. Your father has already asked that we stay an additional day while Jane is here. I have to return home to work tomorrow.”
Although she hated the idea of being separated from Patrick, Emma couldn’t demand he stay. “Very well. But know that I will miss you terribly.” She hugged him close and closed her eyes.
The following morning after Patrick left, Emma joined Mrs. Milligan and Jane in the front parlor where they waited for her with expectant expressions.
“Ask us any questions you may have,” Mrs. Milligan said.
“Very well,” Emma hesitated. “What is my full name?”
“Elizabeth Rose,” Jane piped up. “But we always called you Beth.”
Elizabeth. It felt foreign and she allowed it to sink in. “Elizabeth Rose. It’s very pretty.”
Mrs. Milligan reached for her hand. “Do you wish to keep the name Emma?”
“In a way, I don’t. They gave it to me. But I am used to it. I would like you to call me Beth, however.” She studied her mother’s face. “Can I call you Mother?”
“That would make her very happy.” Pastor Milligan stood at the door. “And I hope you feel comfortable calling me Papa soon.”
“Of course, I will,” Emma cried and rushed to him. “This is all so overwhelming. My mind is reeling.”
When he hugged her, a feeling of familiarity slammed into her so hard, she couldn’t help but sag.
“You were always a daddy’s girl,” her mother exclaimed. “Like two peas in a pod.”
Jane crossed her arms. “I suppose I can’t be the center of attention anymore.”
Everyone laughed and Emma was grateful for the moment to compose herself.
The entire day consisted of talking and being introduced to her new family’s dynamics. Emma didn’t tire of asking questions and was thrilled to receive some of her childhood possessions. Every so often doubt would creep in. What if it was all a mistake and she wasn’t really who they thought she was?
Her mother pulled her aside that afternoon. “I have something to show you.” She opened a box. In it were a lock of hair, a tooth and a small, cloth doll.
“Molly!” Emma exclaimed, suddenly remembering her favorite toy. “I remember her...I remember.” She hugged the doll close. “I dropped her, didn’t I?”
Mrs. Milligan nodded, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. “Yes, the day you were taken, we found her on the ground.” Her mother sighed. “They left us this box one day with the lock of hair and the tooth. It was on our front porch. It was about two months after you disappeared. That was when we left Bardwell and moved here.”
Her gaze moved toward the window, but Emma knew she was not seeing the current surroundings. “I thought it meant you had died. I was inconsolable. I cried until I got sick. Thank God for Jane. If she wasn’t there for me to care for, I’m not sure what would have happened.”
There were so many things she wanted to ask and know about. For now, she’d enjoy spending time with her parents and sister. Already, she and Jane had stayed up until the early morning talking and forming a bond.
For the moment, Emma wanted to soak in everything, enjoy her time there and, for the first time, learn what family was and how it worked.
Evening came. The house was quiet as Jane and her husband had gone to their bedroom. Her mother nudged Emma. “Go speak to your father. He is out on the porch brooding.”
“He has been quiet.”
Although it was quite chilly outside, her father had stubbornly remained on the porch, claiming to need time to think.
Her mother looked toward the doorway. “For a long time, he blamed himself for what happened to you. You were taken during a picnic. I had gone with Jane to pick flowers and he was to look after you.”
It was hard to imagine the pain her parents had gone through. “I’m sure it wasn’t his fault.”
“No, it wasn’t. You’d fallen asleep and we’d left you under a small shelter where we could keep an eye on you. To this day, we don’t know how someone got away with it. Except there was a distraction of a bonfire being lit. That could have been the moment it happened.”
Emma pulled her shawl tight as she walked outside. Without speaking, she sat next to the silent man and looked up at the sky. They remained without speaking. Somehow, just sitting there in the dark together seemed to be enough.
Whatever bonds she and her father had truly felt comforting now. Emma mourned for her younger self, who had been so lonely and sad, missing her father. Now she understood the ache in her chest whenever she thought of her childhood. Over the years, she’d protected herself by not thinking about those early years.
“Do you see that form there?” her father asked, pointing to the sky.
“The hourglass?” Emma asked, a smile lifting her lips. “I love the stars.”
“You used to say it was your favorite. It’s called Orion.”
“Orion,” she repeated. “Beautiful.”
Once again, they fell silent and Emma shivered. Her father pulled her to his side. “I was so angry with God, I stopped attending church with your mother. I would leave for weeks searching for you.” He kissed the top of her head. “It wasn’t until your mother threatened to go home to her parents that I finally stayed home.”
“I wish you wouldn’t blame yourself. It was Davis’ fault. He was the one who did this.”
So many years had gone by and the pain was still so raw. How could someone be so cruel? Not just Davis, but Hazel as well.
“You know,” her father said. “He was angry because I fired him for drinking too much. He was gone about a month before you went missing. We never put two and two together. How I wish we would have.”
Emma pushed away and turned to him. �
��Let’s start from now. We cannot change the past or ever get the time back. However, I find that I am excited at what the future holds. I am happy and so content to be part of this family.”
“You’re a pretty and smart little lady. Must have gotten that from your mother.”
“Definitely, because I wouldn’t sit out here in the cold.” They laughed as Emma stood and held her hand out. “Let’s go inside, Papa.”
Chapter 11
“I thought you were going to pick up Emma today,” Maureen called out from her garden as Patrick guided a horse to the stable.
“I was,” he replied, stopping. “But I want to talk to Pa about some horses before I go back.” He continued on to the stables. A weight that had settled on his shoulders became heavier with each passing moment.
Ever since he’d left the Milligans’ home Patrick’s mood had soured. Emma was where she belonged. Getting to know her family was very important and he understood it. As a matter of fact, he felt downright wrong to resent it. As he’d ridden home days earlier, a feeling of deep loneliness had become strong.
Yes, he had his parents. But up until that day, he was all Emma had and Patrick liked that she depended on him for protection. Now, things would change. She had a new safe harbor that did not include him.
Angry with himself, Patrick had tossed and turned most of the first night, which meant he’d been moody and sullen the second day. Now it was the third day and his mood had not changed much. Perhaps it would be different if his wife loved him.
Then again, it was not something someone could force. If Emma didn’t love him, then it wasn’t her fault in any way. One could not control strong emotions.
Once in the stables, he brushed down the horse and gave the greedy animal two apples. The horse was content after that, nickering its approval. Patrick patted its nose. “Get some rest.”
He walked out and looked up at the cloudy sky. If a storm came overnight and lasted until morning, it would mean putting off going for Emma one more day. Raindrops plopped down on his face and he rushed to his parents’ house.
“I do believe you have something worth investing in there, Son.” Finn sat back and looked at the fire for a moment before meeting his gaze. “Start small. We have to be choosy when picking out the horses to breed.”
Patrick smiled. “We?”
His father chose to ignore him. “I’m not sure taking the two he brought is a good idea. Perhaps, we should go to where he got them from.”
“According to Mr. Milligan, he is a good judge when purchasing horses.”
His mother came in and pulled her knitting basket close. “It’s going to rain all night. Did you make sure any calves are put up?”
They looked to each other and, without speaking, got up to gather their coats.
“Here, drink some of this. I put plenty of honey in it.” Two days later, his mother pushed a cup of hot tea into Patrick’s hands. “You seem to be worse off than your father.”
He resisted bringing up the fact they were sick because she sent them out twice in the rain to retrieve animals. They had hardy livestock that would have managed better than they did.
“Now, you have to get better and go see about Emma,” his mother continued. “She must be worried sick.”
He doubted it, but refrained from saying so. Instead, he sneezed so hard some of the tea spilled over the sides of the cup.
“Yes, ma’am.” Patrick closed her eyes in an effort to relieve a pounding headache. “I need to sleep a bit right now.”
Within moments, he was fast asleep.
“Patrick?” Once again, he dreamed of Emma; of her coming to him repeating over and over how much she loved him.
At someone jostling him, the heaviness of his eyelids did not keep him from opening them. It was light outside, which meant he’d slept all night at his parents’ home again.
Emma came into focus. She spoke to his mother who stood just behind her. “I think his fever has broken.”
“He rarely gets sick but when he does, it’s pretty bad. He’ll be right as rain in a day or two, you’ll see.”
They continued talking as if he weren’t in the room while he looked from one to the other, unable to get a word in.
“I think he missed you terribly and that didn’t help. Now that you’re here, he’ll perk right up. He’s been moping since he came back. Look now, the color in his face has returned.”
Patrick gritted his jaw. His mother’s comments had made him blush. At the moment, he was glad they considered it a sign he was recovered and not what it truly was.
With a bright smile, Emma peered down at him. “Should we help him sit up so he can eat?”
“I can sit up. I’m not that ill,” he muttered. It didn’t stop both of them from slipping their hands under his arms to help. Patrick pressed his lips together to keep from telling them to move away. “I need a bath,” he said instead.
There was a twinkle in Emma’s eyes he’d not seen before. She lifted a brow. “Yes, you do. I’ll see about it after you eat something.”
While he ate a hearty soup, Emma sat at the foot of the bed. “My parents came with me. We were worried something happened to you. Good thing we did, you need me right now.”
While she talked, he watched her with interest. Her shoulders were square and there was a new assuredness in her expressions. Her hair was pulled up and a tumble of curls fell to her shoulders. The style suited her, but it was very different from the bun he’d become accustomed to.
Her husky voice had a ring to it, lighter in a way, and she moved her hands as she spoke, reminding him of Mrs. Milligan. It seemed the few days she’d spent getting acquainted with her family had brought many changes in his wife.
“I like your hairstyle,” Patrick said. “You look beautiful.”
Emma laughed, the throaty sound making him wish he could reach forward and kiss her. “Jane did this. She showed me how to pin my hair at night so that I can have more manageable curls in the morning.”
She continued without waiting for him to speak. “I have cousins. Lots of them. Mother is inviting them all for my birthday. I think she wrote about twenty letters while I was there to announce my return...”
While she spoke, Patrick took her in. The new creation, although lovely, was nothing like the woman he left at the Milligans’. This woman was self-assured, bright and talkative. Unlike the Emma before, she teased him and seemed to find humor in his less than happy mood.
“Once you feel better, your mood will improve. Now, let’s see about that bath.” She leaned over him and kissed his forehead. “I’ll be right back.” With that, she took the tray from his lap and waltzed out of the room.
“I wasn’t finished eating,” he mumbled at the empty doorway.
Emma walked from the bedroom to the kitchen in her home and smiled. It was nice to finally see that things at her home were returning to normal, although her life was forever changed. There were a few new pieces of furniture she’d brought back from her parents’ home.
Her parents had gifted them a new kitchen table, chairs and a beautiful trunk from her bedroom in Millerstown with a few of her childhood belongings.
The trunk was now under the window in the front room. She hummed as she went to the kitchen and caught sight of Patrick outside.
As soon as he recovered, he’d gone to pick up the horses from her brother-in-law. And he was in the corral with them now.
He remained a bit sluggish, still not fully recovered. And, since his father would not allow him to work with the cattle as yet, Patrick had stubbornly worked outdoors with the horses for three days now.
They’d had a minor argument that morning as she’d insisted he wear two shirts and a scarf under his thick jacket. She’d won in the end, but now saw that the scarf was thrown over the corral post.
Ever since she’d returned, there’d been a sort of tension between them she didn’t understand. It wasn’t that Patrick was unkind in any way, but he seemed more reserved. It a
ppeared as if something bothered him. Although he was normally a quiet man, he rarely spoke more than a sentence now to answer whatever she asked about. The only time he became a bit animated was when speaking about the horses and, even then, it would only be for a couple of minutes. Either he was still feeling ill or she’d done something that he disagreed with.
And yet, now, as she watched his handsome face aglow with excitement, Emma saw a lightness he didn’t express with her like he used to.
She turned in a circle and returned to the bedroom. It had been a while since they’d made love. The last time had been when her father-in-law had caught Patrick outside naked.
That could be it. Patrick was in need of attention. Emma began to formulate a plan.
Patrick walked in from working and stopped at seeing the table was set for dinner. She’d gone to great care to prepare his favorite pot roast and there was a small cake in the center.
Emma pretended as if nothing was out of the ordinary as she walked from the kitchen to the table wearing only her chemise. She’d pulled the pins from her hair and it fell past her shoulders in a riot of curls, which she knew he liked.
“What is this?” His gaze ran over her. “You’re not dressed. Aren’t you cold?”
“A bit.” She went to him and took the scarf from his neck. The entire time, her eyes were locked to his.
“You took it off. I don’t want you to get sick again.”
His Adam’s apple moved up and down, as she knew he could catch a glimpse of her breasts down the front of her chemise.
“I decided,” Emma started, “to treat you to something special today. I fixed your favorite food...and dessert.” She pushed the coat off of her husband’s shoulders. “Then we will sit by the fire and chat.”
He looked to the fireplace where she’d prepared a nest with blankets and pillows. “Let’s chat now.”
Despite wanting to remain sensual and serious, Emma chuckled. “No, dinner first.”
Patrick's Proposal (The Langley Legacy Book 2) Page 9
