by Lynda Chance
Luke shook his head once at Maria and Emma could tell that whatever the other woman wanted to say wouldn't be voiced now. Luke had that look on his face that was silencing the older woman.
Luke rammed his hat back on his head and never glanced in Emma's direction again. He looked at Maria when he spoke. "She was out in the garden and fell. She needs something else to wear while you wash her clothes."
He didn't stop for an answer, just slammed through the backdoor without waiting for his lunch.
Maria looked at her and asked, "What's got him so riled?"
Emma cleared her throat and said softly, "Evidently I didn't obey his command to stay in the house and he's angry about it."
"Ahh," Maria rolled her eyes and made the noncommittal response.
Emma changed the subject as gracefully as she could. "Can I help you with lunch?"
Maria smiled and replied with a laugh when she saw what was on the table, "I guess squash will be on the menu soon?"
An hour later, Emma was full as a tick from the thick, creamy tomato soup she'd eaten for lunch. She had had a bath and was now wearing one of Maria's dresses. Although it covered her decently enough, it kept slipping off one shoulder as she sat and peeled and quartered the squash for supper.
She listened as Maria chatted away happily. "And our daughter now has three babies of her own."
"Where does she live?" Emma asked.
"She lives in Denver with her husband and his parents."
"That must please you that they are in the same state and not across the country."
"Yes, it does, but I have to confess that I get a bit jealous of the other grandmother. She gets to see those babies everyday while I only get to see them once a year or so."
"It must be wonderful , though, having such a large and happy family. You seem very proud of them." Emma chatted as she layered the squash in a casserole dish with onions, butter, and breadcrumbs while she dreamed of big families.
"Yes, very proud. I count my blessings every day."
"I've never had any family." Emma didn't intend to turn melancholy, but with all the talk of family, it just slipped out.
"None? No family at all?" Maria sounded astonished and upset at the same time.
"None at all. I was raised in an orphanage my whole life. In St. Louis. I never knew who my parents were."
"That is so sad, Emma." The older woman had stopped what she was doing completely and stood watching Emma with an unreadable expression on her face.
"The past is in the past and it wasn't so bad anyway, really. I was raised with a wonderful girl, Evelyn Turner, and we're still friends to this day." Emma tried to be as upbeat as she could and looked up from what she was doing with a smile for the other woman to put her at ease.
Maria bent and braised the roast with drippings from a large spoon. "What did you do when you left the orphanage?"
"I had to stay until I was eighteen, unless I wanted to run away, which I didn't. They helped me secure a position with a widow in town as a sort of companion. I read to her, took her to church on Sunday, helped with the light housework and such, helped manage her household, that sort of thing. She only recently passed away." Emma's voice dwindled to a halt when she thought about the old woman that had become a great friend to her.
"Well when in the world did you find time to get married youself?"
The question threw Emma for a loop and as she glanced down to regroup, Maria must have thought she'd pried because the other woman continued, "Maybe it's something you don't wish to speak of?"
Emma nodded her head in agreement.
Maria brightened and went on, "And now you're having an adventure and going west, though it's a shame about yesterday."
"Yes." Emma stood to her feet and began carrying the casserole dish to the stove. Her limp was more pronounced than usual. She had well and truly bruised the bottom of her foot, darn it.
"You're going to hurt yourself further if you keep putting your weight on that ankle, and Luke will have my head for it."
Emma agreed and soon found herself ensconced in the same chair trying the read the same book that she had earlier in the day.
She must have fallen asleep because she woke at a sharp sound and jerked in her chair and looked up to find Luke watching her silently from a few feet away.
She watched him warily as she lifted a hand to smooth back the hair that had fallen over her face.
His eyes dropped and as she came fully awake, Emma gasped as she looked down and found the neckline of her dress had dropped completely off her shoulder. She pulled it up quickly as a blush spread across her face.
Luke felt himself stiffen as the blood rushed to his shaft and grew into a full-blown erection. He hissed out a curse as he hardened against his will from the sight of one soft, white shoulder and the top curve of her breast. A breast that wasn't bare at all, in fact it was covered by a white petticoat, possibly two. But that didn't seem to matter to his unruly body.
He gritted his teeth and tried to regain control. "Supper's ready. I'll help you get to the table."
"No, thank you, I can manage--"
"Do you have to contradict every damn thing I say?"
Emma felt her eyes widen as his temper seemed to take off like a shot for no reason again. "No, I didn't realize I did."
He moved toward her and held his hand out. "Let's go."
Emma put her hand in his and he pulled her to her feet. "Thank you, I can w--"
Her words came to a halt as once again, she found herself lifted and carried into the kitchen. He looped her arm around his neck and soon she found herself plunked down in a chair at the table.
The savory roast sat in the middle and her squash casserole sat beside it but Maria was nowhere to be found.
She didn't ask any questions as he stood beside her plate and served a large portion onto her plate.
The food he was giving her was way too much, and Emma lifted her eyes to his. She didn't want him to think she was arguing about every little thing, but she had been taught her whole life not to waste food.
As her eyes met his, her voice was soft, "Luke."
His eyes tangled with hers. "Too much?"
"Yes."
He put about half back in the serving dish and served his own plate and sat.
Emma waited until he picked up his fork and began digging in. She took a few careful bites and was pleased that her casserole as well as Maria's roast had turned out so delicious.
Luke studied her as they ate. His housekeeper's shape was quite normal for a grandmother of her age. But her form was much larger than Emma's, and the dress swallowed the girl completely. She ate with one hand while she held the dress at her throat with the other.
"The dress is too big," he stated the obvious in a rough voice. "Your clothes should be here by tomorrow."
Her eyes lifted from her plate. "Thank you."
His gaze narrowed on hers and she knew her face turned a bright, fiery color as she dropped her eyes from his intense, heated look.
"How long ago did your husband die?" His voice was rough as he asked her the question.
She peeked through her lashes and saw he was studying her with a keenly observant look.
She didn't want to tell more lies but she was embroiled so deeply now she didn't know how to get out of it. "A while now."
"You don't like talking about it?" His eyes were remote, dark and unfathomable.
"It's not that, it's just that--"
"Was he mean to you?" Storm clouds had gathered on his face.
Her eyes flew to his. "In what way?"
"Was he rough on you? Take his pleasure and leave you wanting?"
"W-wanting?" she asked on a whisper.
"You don't know what I'm talking about?" He looked incredulous. "You don't know what wanting means?"
"How can you ask me these questions? We don't even know each other." Emma was not at all comfortable with the conversation. She hadn't been comfortable since she'd met him,
but this conversation was making it worse.
"We're not having supper in some fancy hotel back east, honey. It's just you and me and we're alone in my house in the middle of my kingdom." His voice was sharp and he stressed the word alone.
"Your kingdom?" She asked with some confusion.
"You see any other ruler around here?"
"No," she answered simply.
"Maybe you haven't figured it out yet, but I make all the rules around here. I'm the boss, the people here work for me. My word is law.
"I don't work for you."
"No, you don't. But you're a guest on my ranch and while you're here, I'd think you'd want to get along with me." The softly spoken threat hit Emma exactly where he aimed it.
"I'm not trying to be disagreeable," she said quietly.
"Then understand we're having a conversation, getting to know each other a little. We don't have the same kind of formality out here that you're used to. I'm curious about you, that's all. You seem kind of innocent like, I believe I've mentioned that before. Seems to me that all that innocence would have been wiped away, what with you being a married woman and all. But here you are not even aware of what wanting feels like."
"You shouldn't be saying such things." Emma tried for the most pleasant tone she could muster in her attempt at not being disagreeable.
"Just you and me, Emma-girl, I already said that. My house, my supper table. I'll pretty much talk to you anyway I see fit."
Emma was silent as she tried to hold his eyes with hers and failed. She lost her appetite completely and looked down at her hands, folded in her lap.
A loud, grating sound broke the silence as he pushed his chair back and it slid across the wooden floor. Emma didn't look up as he came to stand by her chair.
"You finished?"
She nodded her head.
"You know what comes next."
His words sounded threatening and her eyes flew to his as she lost all color.
He shook his head at the look on her face. "I'm going to carry you to your bedroom."
"I can walk, you don't have to carry me." Her voice was shaky in her confusion.
"Don't have to, maybe I want to." His voice was entirely too enticing and his expression had a sense of purpose.
His hand reached down and lifted hers and Emma found herself standing too close to his large, male body. The boots on his feet added an extra couple of inches to his already soaring height.
Her eyes were level with his chest.
His other hand reached up and his rough, calloused finger slowly slid across her shoulder and across the top swell of her breast as he lifted the collar of the dress and pulled it back up to cover her.
Emma gasped at the sensation. She was rendered completely helpless and could barely stay up on her own two feet.
She heard the rattling sound of his breath coming quickly in and out of his lungs and her eyes lifted to his. That rough finger moved under her chin and lifted. Fire smoldered in his eyes.
"You're pretty." His voice was gravelly, the words a harsh, loud whisper.
Pleasure filled her from the complement. It was the first one she could remember receiving that had anything to do with her looks. The gravelly sound of his voice sent shivers down her spine and she couldn't find her voice to thank him.
He continued in a low, cajoling voice, "Did your husband think you were pretty? Did he tell you when you were naked in his arms?"
Emma swayed at his words as total shock infiltrated her system and her hand fell against his stomach, searching for balance. Steel in the form of muscle greeted her fingers as she unconsciously spread them until she was touching as much of him as she could possibly reach with one hand. Intense heat spread through her and she felt the oddest tingling between her thighs. It was pleasant and kind of bothersome, all at once.
His eyes were dark chocolate brown as they watched her too closely. She felt her lids slide down over her eyes as the feelings surged within her.
The finger left her chin and trailed back down to land on her shoulder again where it slowly pulled her dress down until it bared her white flesh to his eyes. The fabric dropped low on her chest and rubbed against her breast on the downward slide. Emma gasped as she felt her nipple pebble and stand up against the thin white material of her chemise and single petticoat.
She stood in frozen fascination as his breath hissed in and he looked at her bare shoulder and almost naked breast.
"If I had you naked in my arms, if you belonged to me, I'd tell you how pretty you are all the time. How sweet your body smells, how soft you feel, how much I want you."
She felt his head turn as if he were breathing in her scent.
A tear slid from her eye as she listened to the enchanting words.
He wiped it away with a swipe of a finger. "Why the tears?"
She shook her head slowly when she couldn't form an answer. Nobody had ever said such sweet things to her; nobody had ever wanted to hold her.
It was an amazing, dangerous feeling.
Luke felt the effect of her going to his head like a fine wine on an empty stomach. She was small and delicately pretty, her skin was porcelain and she probably belonged anywhere but on his ranch out in the middle of Colorado. She needed to be in a town somewhere, with people who would take good care of her.
With a flash of insight, he wasn't sure he wanted to go through a door he wasn't sure he should open. Problem was, in his gut, he knew it was already too late.
Steeling himself against her warmth, he bent and gently lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom she had used the night before. He pushed his way over to the bed, and carefully deposited her there. He stepped back and saw her scramble to cover herself.
Emma landed on her bottom in a tangle of arms and legs and quickly moved to cover that one bare, silken shoulder from him. Suddenly, being in the bedroom seemed more dangerous than it had the night before. She watched him like a mouse might watch a prowling cat.
He gave her a piercing look and moved away toward the door. He stood on the threshold for a moment before speaking. "That's not going to help, you know. Trying to cover up from me. I've already seen it, Emma." His eyes held hers for the count of three heartbeats. "I already want it."
He turned away, shut the door with a sharp click and left her alone.
Emma let out the air she'd been holding in her lungs with one big whoosh and fell onto her back and put her hands over her face. What had she gotten herself into? What in the world was she supposed to do now?
Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God.
It was all she could get out as she thought about the tall, dark rancher with the face of a fallen angel and the body of a sinner. The man who stated so boldly that he wanted her. What in the world was she going to do?
Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God.
Chapter Four
The next day, Luke dismounted near the corral and handed the reins of the semi-wild pony to Jesse who stood waiting for them.
His spurs clicked in a muted cadence against the solid dirt of the earth as he strode toward the courtyard and then to the house.
He'd seen the sheriff on the northern edge of his property riding toward his house half an hour before, but Luke had been on the south ridge and this was the fastest he could make it back.
He growled with frustrated impatience at the delay.
There was very damn little reason Reed Elgin should take the time from his day to come all the way out here.
There was only one reason that he'd do it.
The other man was curious about Emma. Luke gritted his teeth.
He knew from his conversation with Cody that his message had been relayed to the lawman that there had been a sole female survivor and that she was safe now. The sheriff should have been the last man that had time to worry over the welfare of one lone woman when he had a job that needed to be done.
Luke ripped the leather gloves from his hands and stuffed them in the back pocket of his Levi's
as he quickened his pace.
Luke's brow creased in a frown of pure annoyance as he realized his anger was already at the boiling point and there was no justifiable reason for it.
He tore the door opened and walked purposefully into the house.
****
Emma looked up from where she sat at the kitchen table when she heard the loud bang of the door reverberating through the room like a gunshot.
Her senses were already mired in confusion. Sheriff Elgin had come to call half an hour before and since that time, he'd done nothing but try to get her to come back to town with him.
When she left her bedroom that morning, she was relieved that Luke was already out of the house. Maria had been working in the kitchen and told her that her luggage had arrived late the night before.
Emma was unsure of actually unpacking her things, but Maria had helped her move the luggage to her bedroom, had convinced her to unpack and put away her things so the creases would come out, and they had spent a pleasant morning together while they had gotten Emma settled.
Now she sat as stiff as a board while the sheriff sat back on his haunches in front of her, held her hand in a vise-like grip and tried to get her to come around to his way of thinking while Maria hovered over them, clucking like a chicken trying to protect her chick.
Emma's eyes landed on Luke as he slammed through the door. He stood still for a moment while he took in the scene. Emma's eyes widened and her breath caught as he seemed to grow in stature right before her eyes. His shoulders stiffened and squared, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, and a black, menacing expression came over his countenance.
A loud buzzing began in her ears as she continued to watch him, her body immobilized from shock. A strange feeling of guilt came over her and she tried without success to pull her hand away from the sheriff's grasp.
She felt a moment of helplessness, as if she were a bone being pulled between two dogs. Luke stepped away from the threshold, and in a manner that spoke of casualness that she knew was deceptive, he took three steps until he stood in the middle of the room and in a low, deadly voice said only three words to the sheriff.
"Let her go."
