by Amanda Ashby
She turned to where Charlie was standing. “Hey, is everything okay?”
“Can’t complain.” The old man shrugged, then gave Christopher a curt nod.
“Charlie.” Christopher returned the greeting while continuing to fold the tablecloth. Emmy widened her eyes as she looked at them both. Something was going on, she just had no idea what it was.
“I want to start painting but I can’t find the ladder. Have you seen it anywhere?”
“Sorry, I’ve been washing, wrapping and packing all morning,” Emmy said. Amongst other things. “Have you tried the second barn?”
“Not since I was in there at around eight. I’ll have a look now,” Charlie said before thrusting his hat back on his head and slowly turning around. Emmy waited until he was out of earshot before returning her attention to Christopher.
“Okay, so what was that about?” She tilted her head and studied his face. “Is something going on between you and Charlie?”
“Of course not.” He shook his head before letting out a sigh and once again putting down the tablecloth. “Well, not really. He gave me ‘the talk’ on Sunday. I guess to make sure I treated you properly.”
“What?” Emmy dropped into the closest chair. “How did he know about us?”
“How does anyone around here know anything?” He sat down next to her and inspected his fingernails as heat rose in her cheeks. Christopher had left her in no doubt about his feelings, but she still hated him thinking she was a parochial farm girl who couldn’t do anything without her family and friends knowing all about it. Especially because she remembered how closed he’d been when it came to discussing his own family.
She licked her lips. “I’m sorry. I had no idea. Even though Ivy and Charlie were only ever friends, he’s been like a grandfather to me. I guess he was just worried. Still, he shouldn’t have said anything. I know family isn’t really your thing.”
“Hey, don’t be sorry,” he said, his eyes looking almost black. “Just because my family wasn’t Hallmark approved, it doesn’t mean you need to change.”
She reluctantly smiled. “That’s probably a good thing, because I can’t see Bec or Charlie minding their own business, even if I asked them to. But,” she quickly added, “if you find them too much, just let me know.”
“Now you’re making me sound like an ogre. It was just unexpected, that’s all.” A smile danced around his mouth before he ran a hand through his head. But despite his demeanor there was no missing the way his jaw flickered. “I didn’t grow up in a town like yours where everyone knows everyone’s business. Or with your kind of family. There wasn’t any jam-making or family china. I think my dad might’ve been a good man once but after my mom died, he saw me and my kid brother as a chain around his neck. We were the problem that stopped him from following his dreams. He…well, it made him very bitter and violent. He died five years ago still resenting us.”
God. She had no idea that’s what his life had been like.
“Christopher, I’m so sorry.” Emmy reached out and touched his face. He flinched slightly but he didn’t pull away.
“Don’t be. I decided long ago I could either feel sorry for myself or I could make sure I never turned out like him.”
Emmy thought of the man he’d just described and then looked at Christopher. There was no resemblance.
“Not possible. There’s nothing bitter about you,” Emmy said, longing to soothe away the troubled expression. It also explained why he didn’t like staying in place for too long. Why he always wanted to be moving forward. He was worried he’d turn out like his dad. She let out a soft sigh. “That’s why you use your mom’s maiden name for your byline.”
“Yeah, it seems dumb now, but at the time it felt right. Like I was telling the old man he couldn’t break me.”
“It doesn’t seem dumb.” An ache exploded inside her, and she leaned forward and gently kissed him. “But thank you for telling me. I’m guessing it’s not something you talk about often.”
“Try never. But I figured if we want to make this work, I needed to let you know what’s going on. I just have this thing. If I’m not going forward, I must be going backward.”
“Like how a shark needs to keep swimming or else it’ll drown,” Emmy whispered and was rewarded with a lopsided smile.
“First moonbows and now sharks? I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you have the mind of a traveler,” Christopher whispered as he kissed her.
“And you have the spirit of a homemaker,” Emmy murmured as she remembered his face when he first saw the wishing bridge, and how he’d looked eating her homemade bread, legs stretched out at the kitchen table like he’d always been there.
I never want to let this guy go.
“I think you can see something in me that I can’t even see in myself.” He kissed her deeper, this time so urgent that Emmy could almost feel the longing inside him, as his chest pounded a tattoo. But before she could run her hands down his leg there was a cough, and they both sprang apart to see Charlie standing in the doorway.
Ah, so that’s why people don’t make out in kitchens.
“D-did you find the ladder?” she stammered, now acutely aware of how Christopher had felt several minutes ago. Charlie’s normally placid face wrinkled with concern. Emmy stiffened. “What’s wrong?”
“Edo’s been helping me with the painting, and he said he saw Bec wandering off with it half an hour ago. I’ve tried her cell phone, but there’s no answer. If it was you I wouldn’t be worried, but you know what your sister’s like—”
Oh, jeez.
“What does that mean?” Christopher stood up while Emmy reached for her cell phone and called Bec’s number. There was no answer, and her hands began to shake.
“It means Bec’s had her fair share of accidents around the farm. From getting stuck on the cowshed roof, through to crashing Ivy’s truck into a haystack. Oh God. And at the wedding when I asked if she was okay, she said it was a long story that could wait until I got back from Hawaii.”
“Okay,” his voice was calm as his fingers tightened around hers, giving her strength. “But that doesn’t mean anything’s happened. It just means we need to look for her. Where’s she most likely to go?”
Emmy forced herself to be calm as she went through the list of things she and Bec had discussed earlier. “She was going to take some photographs of the wishing bridge, the second field, and the duck pond for a prospective client. That’s probably what she needed the ladder for.”
“So, what if Charlie goes to the second field, and we’ll go check the wishing bridge and the pond,” Christopher said.
Charlie gave a brief nod and hurried toward his truck while Emmy and Christopher jogged across the courtyard and began to pick their way down the path. Blood pounded in her temples. Bec had been acting so strangely. Even wanting to join the business had been out of character.
Why hadn’t she forced Bec to tell her what was going on?
Because I’ve been too distracted with Christopher.
Her throat tightened as they burst through to the clearing and the wishing bridge came into sight.
“Bec,” she called out. There was no answer, and Emmy was just about to let out her breath, when she saw a crumpled body in the middle of the bridge.
A scream tore from her throat as she ran forward.
Somewhere behind her, she could hear Christopher urgently speaking to Charlie on the cell phone before calling for an ambulance, but all Emmy could concentrate on was her sister.
Bec was lying next to the ladder and looked smaller than ever.
Her face was dangerously white and her breathing shallow as Emmy reached her and dropped to her knees.
“Bec, can you hear me?” She tightened her grip around Bec’s limp fingers. “It’s me, Emmy. I’m right here.”
“Emm?” Bec let out a small groan as she slowly opened her eyes. “Don’t go.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Christopher’s calling the ambula
nce, but the important thing is not to move. Tell me where it hurts.”
“It hurts everywhere.” Bec let out a soft little wail as her free hand clutched at her stomach. “Emmy, I didn’t mean to fall.”
“It’s okay,” she crooned as Christopher pulled the cell phone away from his ear.
“The operator needs to know if she’s had any drugs or alcohol, or if she’s allergic to anything,” he said.
“No.” Bec’s eyelids fluttered and she winced in pain. “I just wanted to come down here and make a wish for the baby.”
“What?” The blood drained from Emmy’s face as she stared at her sister. “Did you say baby?”
“I-I’m pregnant, Emm,” Bec said hoarsely.
Emmy caught Christopher’s eye so he could update the operator. Then he finished the call and looked at them both.
“The ambulance is twenty minutes away, and apparently the drivers know the property so they won’t have any trouble finding us. You need to keep talking to her in case there’s a concussion. I’m just going back to the house to get the first aid kit, and Charlie’s collecting some blankets. Okay?”
No, not okay. None of this is okay. My sister’s pregnant and injured and if something happens to her—
“Yes.” Emmy found herself nodding with a confidence she was far from feeling. She gently wiped Bec’s brow. “So, did you hear that? The ambulance is on the way, and you have to promise you won’t flirt with old Larry this time.”
“I promise,” Bec said in a feeble voice as Emmy tightened her grip and silently promised to do whatever it took to make sure her sister was safe.
Chapter Eleven
Christopher’s head pounded as he paced the waiting room, the bland walls and sterile smell catching in his nose. The last time he’d been in a hospital was when his father had died. It had been a wasted trip, and any subconscious hope he’d had that his old man might have softened over the years had been destroyed when his father had snarled at him to stop hovering around in the hope of getting any money. They’d been his last words, and true to form, the old man had left the rundown house to a distant relative.
It was his father’s final punishment for destroying his life.
Not that Christopher had ever cared about the money. All he’d cared about was seeing if the father of his imagination was truly as terrible as he’d remembered.
It had been a bad idea.
He clenched his hands as he continued to pace.
Bec had been admitted four hours ago, and in that time it seemed like half of the town had made the thirty-minute trip to the hospital, desperate for an update. Charlie was in the far corner being comforted by Rachel and her husband, while the owners of Beer and Cupcakes were handing out muffins to anyone who was hungry. Over by the vending machine was the owner of the red stingray, Bec’s friend Ben Cooper, and even Monsieur Lafayette had turned up wearing a rugby shirt.
It was the wedding all over again, the only difference was that this time, instead of pitching in to help, they were simply here to support. But while they all seemed to content to wait for news, Christopher felt like he was going to go crazy. He’d once spent four days traveling on the Trans-Siberian Railway and it had gone quicker than this. From time to time someone would come over and talk to him, but it had never lasted long, and they’d quickly returned to their own huddles.
I’m going crazy.
He was just about to start his pacing again when Emmy came into the waiting room, her face pale. Despite the many people wanting her attention, she hurried straight toward him.
“How’s she doing?” he asked, reaching for her hands, hoping that the soft velvet of her skin beneath his fingers would anchor him.
“It’s good news. It looks like she was only one or two rungs up the ladder and there’s no head trauma or concussion, just a sprained arm and a couple of bruises. And the baby’s fine,” Emmy said. Relief shot through him and he pulled her close.
“Thank God.” He planted a soft kiss in her hair. She trembled against him, her breathing erratic. He loosened his grip to study her face. “Hey, I thought this was good news.”
“It is.” A small sob escaped before she drew it back in and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m just being stupid. They want to keep Bec in overnight, but I don’t want to leave her. I hate to ask, but would you mind—”
“Going back to the farm to pack a suitcase?” he immediately said, desperate to be doing something rather than just endlessly pacing.
Anything to stop me from feeling like I’m standing still.
“Of course. Do you want me to do anything else? I could call your sister.”
“No. It’s okay. I left a message for her when we first arrived, but haven’t heard back, which isn’t unusual. Part of being an uptight lawyer is that Pepper doesn’t respond to personal calls while at work. Still, by the time she gets the message at least I’ll have some good news for her.” She paused, shyly looking up at him. “Are you sure you don’t mind about going back to the farm? Normally I’d ask Charlie, but he’s pretty upset.”
“Hey. I meant it. Anything you need, just ask.” He reached up and touched her face, which seemed to lessen the worry clouding her dark eyes. “There are six hundred people waiting to talk to you, so tell me what you need, and I’ll go.”
“I’ve made a list,” she said as she passed him a neatly folded piece of paper. “I don’t how I would’ve coped if you hadn’t been there.”
She would’ve coped perfectly, because this was what Emmy was all about—staying in one place and making sure the people she loved were safe. Unfortunately, it just reminded him he was the opposite. Familiar panic rose in his throat. And the longer he stood still, the worse it became. Like a wave growing as it rolled toward the shore.
Why can’t I breathe?
“You’re the most remarkable person I’ve ever met. You would’ve been just fine. Now go and talk to the good folk of Sunshine before they put a hit out on me for stealing you from them.”
He leaned forward and gave her a soft kiss before she was swallowed up by her friends. He watched how at home she looked, surrounded by so many people. Emmy Watson had some kind of magic about her that radiated out She belonged here, and despite the fact Bec seemed to have drifted around the world as a free spirit, it was obvious she belonged there, too.
The only problem was––he wasn’t sure where he fit into all of this.
Or if I can fit at all.
Unbidden Charlie’s words came back to him, of what people would think if he didn’t look after “their girl.” At the time Christopher had dismissed it, thinking the only opinion that mattered was Emmy’s. My first mistake. Emmy didn’t just come with sisters and a farm. She came with a whole community, and they all had needs and expectations.
His throat went dry as he tried to picture himself being part of that community, but all he could see was him pacing a room while everyone else stood on the other side. For the first time in his life he wondered if this was what his father had felt like. Claustrophobic? Helpless? Trapped?
Was that what had led to his bitterness?
In the past, Christopher had always assumed his desire to get out and succeed in life was to prove he wasn’t like his father. But what if he had it all wrong? What if they both shared the same nagging urge to move forward, and his father’s bitterness was merely a result of not being able to answer the call his spirit had given him?
Does that mean if I stay here, I’ll end up like him? Like my father?
The idea filled him with dread as he jogged across the parking lot to Emmy’s old truck. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he drove to the farm, all the pleasure he’d been taking in the scenery now gone.
He’d half expected Bec’s bedroom to be a mess of clothes and shoes, but it was surprisingly neat and it didn’t take him long to get everything on the list. The green alligator she liked to travel with was sitting on a chair. He instinctively added it to the collection and went
down the stairs. There were still vases of wild flowers from the wedding and he wrapped as many bunches as he could carry into newspaper before returning to the hospital.
It still felt woefully inadequate, and he wished there had been a bigger, more challenging job for him to do. Like climbing a mountain to get an exotic herb to help Bec’s injuries, or going after something only sold in a store five towns over. That I can do. But this waiting around? Being helpless?
He parked the pickup at the hospital and was just gathering up the last bunch of flowers when a tall, elegant woman approached him. Her dark hair was pulled back into a neat chignon, and she was wearing a smart pencil skirt and matching jacket.
“Hey, what are you doing with that truck?” she demanded in a tight voice that made Christopher frown. Had he met her before? Then he realized why she looked so familiar.
It was Emmy and Bec’s older sister.
“Let me guess—you’re Pepper,” he said, which earned him a curt nod of agreement. She might have her sister’s eyes, but she definitely didn’t have Emmy’s warm manner. He licked his lips. “I’m Christopher, a friend of Emmy’s. They’re on the third floor. I’ll take you up.”
“Thank you.” Pepper’s voice was crisp. He led the way inside, and they both stepped into the elevator, sharing the space in silence. He hadn’t thought much about what Emmy and Bec’s older sister would be like, but he certainly hadn’t been expecting someone quite so…uptight. Then he scolded himself. Her youngest sister was both injured and pregnant. No wonder she was upset.
The elevator doors opened, and he led her to the room, opting to wait outside. Through the half-open doorway, he could hear Emmy letting out a surprised squeak. The sisters shared a hushed conversation, and five minutes later Emmy appeared.
“I only just realized you were out here. Why didn’t you come in?”
I didn’t want to intrude on your family time.
I’m not sure I can be the person you want me to be.
“I just thought you might need some time together privately,” he said as he kissed her. For one brief second the smell of her skin pushed away the overpowering stench of the hospital and the panic crawling through his veins. When he was touching her it was fine; it was all the time in between that was the problem.
