by Sharon Booth
Plus, she'd seen him with his children, and couldn't deny that the obvious depths of his love for them was a huge turn-on. Maybe it was because Cain had been so sadly lacking in parental skills that she found the thought of a man who was an excellent father so appealing. James simply couldn't compete. No man could.
'I seem to have got this all wrong,' James muttered, pushing away his half-eaten starter of poached oysters.
'Yes, I rather think you have.' Emerald hurriedly mopped up her own starter of lobster tails in butter sauce and glanced regretfully at the menu, thinking of the two courses she was going to have to miss out on. 'I should be going.'
'You don't have to go. Can't we discuss this?'
'I really think,' Emerald said, 'that we should perhaps leave it for today, don't you? Obviously, we're at cross purposes and I don't think now's the best time to discuss our relationship. Let's leave it and cool off.'
She wanted to escape, quite frankly. Why had she ever believed he wanted nothing from her but friendship? She was an idiot! But then, to be fair, not many men seemed that interested in her. She supposed she should be flattered. She was flattered. If Eliot hadn't been in the picture, she'd probably have dismissed the thought that James was married, if she was being honest. He was a good-looking man in his own way. She could do a lot worse. But he wasn't a farmer with flashing dark eyes and raven curls and unbearably kissable lips. She had to go home. 'I'm very sorry.'
James threw his napkin on the table and half rose. 'I'll take you home.'
Emerald held up her hand in horror. 'No, not at all! Stay the night. You've ordered your meal and you've booked a room. I'll get a taxi.'
'A taxi!' James looked astonished. 'From here to Beckthwaite? Have you any idea how much that will cost?'
Emerald hadn't, but she had Cain's credit card sitting in her purse, so she wasn't overly bothered. 'It really doesn't matter, and I'd much prefer it if you stayed here and finished your meal. Please don't worry about me. I'll be fine.' Her tone was firm, and James evidently recognised she meant what she said, as he sat down again looking quite glum.
Emerald had waited outside the restaurant, hovering in the doorway and scanning the street for an approaching taxi. Luckily, it didn't take long, and she was soon on her way home, accompanied by a delighted taxi driver who obviously couldn't believe his luck at landing such a whopping fare.
As Emerald let herself into the farmhouse, she decided she would have to have a chat with James and clarify the situation. She'd have to be fair but firm. She wasn't looking for any sort of romantic entanglement with him. The truth was, he'd been nice to her and she'd needed that — had responded to it. Maybe she'd responded too much.
She frowned. Was this her fault? Had she led him on in some way? Then she tutted. He was the one who was married, and she couldn't remember ever making a single seductive or suggestive remark. He was obviously trying his luck.
She wished Eliot would try his luck.
Talking of Eliot ... Emerald was taken aback to discover he was still up, despite looking desperately tired. He was glaring at the television as if it was being offensive. Emerald glanced over at the screen. Since it was one of George's Disney DVDs playing, she hardly thought it merited that murderous expression.
'You're back then?' He barely looked in her direction, and Emerald tried very hard not to feel hurt. Something was bothering him. 'Thought you were out for the night.'
'I was thinking of it,' she admitted. 'In the end, though, I decided to come home. I got a taxi.'
'Huh.' He gave an absent nod, and Emerald thought he must really be distracted. Any other time he would have thrown up his hands in horror at the thought of spending all that money on a taxi from Leeds.
'Is something wrong?' she queried. 'You look ever so — well — odd.' The word she was searching for wasn't really odd, but she didn't like to offend him by choosing grumpy, miserable, angry, grouchy, pissed off, or his own favourite expression, mardy.
'Happen you'd look a bit odd an' all if you'd had the news I've had today.' His tone was flat, but at least he was responding. Emerald felt quite cheered.
Bella uncurled herself from the armchair where she'd been sleeping and padded over to Emerald, who automatically crouched down and rubbed her between her ears.
'What's happened?' Had he found out something awful about Eden? She could only hope. Maybe the woman had done the decent thing and called the wedding off? No, that would be too much to ask. She had to be realistic.
'Dun't matter. Forget I said owt.' He stood, looking defeated. Emerald forgot all about point-scoring. She stood, too, placing her hand on his arm.
'Seriously, Eliot, what is it? You look dreadful.'
He eyed her dubiously for a moment, then he sighed and sat down again. 'You may as well know, since you're under this roof and can hardly avoid hearing about it. Reckon it's gunna be a big topic of conversation round here. Mind,' he added warningly, 'I don't want this going outside the house, you understand? This is Fleetsthorpe business and no one else needs to know. Right?'
'Of course,' Emerald agreed, feeling increasingly worried for him. 'Whatever you say.' She felt ridiculously flattered that he was trusting her with this big secret, whatever it was, and sank into the sofa beside him, trying to dismiss the instant frisson of excitement she experienced as her arm brushed his.
'This is hard for me to say,' he told her, and she squeezed his arm in sympathy, leaving her hand in place for far longer than necessary. 'Fact is, very few people know the truth about this.' He ran a hand through his curls and Emerald swallowed hard. 'It's about George.'
Emerald was so surprised she dropped her hand. 'George? What's he done?'
'He a'n't done owt,' Eliot snapped. 'Unless you count being born into a right bloody mess, poor bairn.'
Emerald blinked as she tried to translate. 'I'm sorry, I'm not following.'
'There's no easy way to say this, so I'll come straight out with it. Georgie — he's not my lad.'
His eyes stared into hers, almost challengingly, as if he were daring her to say something flippant. Emerald couldn't reply for a moment, she was so astonished. Of course, thinking about it, George was nothing like Eliot, or his sisters who shared their father's dark curls and deep brown eyes, but she'd simply assumed — when she thought about it at all — that he took after his mother. 'Then whose child is he?' she managed eventually. 'Is he adopted?'
'Nah!' Eliot tutted. 'He's Jemima's son, all right. Jemima's and James Fuller's.'
Emerald's mouth dropped open. 'James Fuller! You mean, he slept with your wife?'
'Weren't much sleeping going on, from what I can gather,' he said bitterly. 'At it like rabbits for over a year, and Georgie is the result.' He rubbed his chin. 'So now you know.'
Emerald was quiet for a moment, digesting this unexpected piece of news, barely noticing when Bella leapt onto her lap. So, James had form? Foolishly, she'd flattered herself that she was the first woman he'd been tempted by since his marriage to Beth. Clearly, she was one in what was probably a long line. She should have known. When was she ever that special?
To her surprise, she realised tears were pricking her eyes. Why on earth was she so upset about it? I'm not upset, she told herself fiercely, just disgusted that I let myself believe he wanted me.
Men, after all, never wanted Emerald. It was just the way it was. And what did she care, anyway? She didn't want him either. Still, the humiliation scorched her face, and she blinked away the tears, staring down at the contented form of Bella until she regained control of her emotions. 'I'm sorry,' she said at last. 'It must have been so difficult for you.'
'Aye, you could say that.' He gave an abrupt laugh. 'He were only four weeks old when Jemima died. Fuller didn't want to know him. I took him on and I've loved that lad as my own ever since.' He glared at her, as if daring her to contradict him. 'No one can say I've treated him any different to my lasses.'
'I'm sure they couldn't,' she agreed. 'But I'm not sure why you'r
e telling me this now?'
Eliot blinked, clearly realising that he hadn't made himself very clear. 'Letter came today from some fancy solicitor,' he told her, his voice sounding choked. 'Fuller wants custody of my lad. He's going to take Georgie away from me.'
Instinctively, Emerald put her arm around his shoulders. 'Oh, Eliot. I'm so sorry. But why? What on earth's made him change his mind?'
'No one ever knows with James Fuller.'
Eden's voice made Emerald glance around, but she didn't move away from Eliot. To her dismay, though, he more-or-less shrugged her off. 'I were telling Emerald about the letter,' he said, quite unnecessarily, as it was pretty obvious what they'd been discussing.
Eden shot her a look of pure venom, which quite cheered Emerald up. 'It's awful,' she said, her voice loaded with sympathy. 'I can't believe it. Have you contacted James Fuller? Asked what's going on?'
As if! She knew perfectly well that Eliot loathed James and the feeling was mutual. At least this cleared up what the bad blood was between them.
'No, but we contacted Beth,' Eden said as she curled up in an armchair opposite them. She was wearing pyjamas with a picture of Winnie-the-Pooh on the front. How seductive. Not. 'She got in touch with him. He reckons it wasn't his idea, but his mother's. She's found out about George and she'd determined to get him back.'
'Makes no odds whose idea it were,' Eliot snarled. 'Fact remains, they want my lad and they're not getting him. No bloody way. And Beth keeping quiet, giving me no warning, when she could have tipped me off about it days ago, didn't help.'
'She did that?' Emerald screwed up her nose, surprised. After what James had told her about Beth getting Eden to let her see the children behind Eliot's back, maybe she shouldn't be so surprised, though. It occurred to her that maybe Beth wasn't as sweet and innocent as she made out. Maybe Jed should tread carefully.
'Told Eden,' he said. 'I weren't important enough to be told, apparently.'
Eden sighed. 'You know it wasn't like that. I've told you, and so has she. She was trying to protect you. She didn't want to worry you unnecessarily. She thought she'd dissuaded James from going ahead or she'd have told you straightaway.'
'She should have told me straightaway no matter what,' Eliot snapped. 'I can't forgive her for this. I could have got a solicitor onto this days ago. Caught us on the back foot now. I can't trust her any more. She's a Fuller, when all's said and done, and any truce we had is over. This is war.'
Emerald frowned. So, it was okay for Eden to keep it from Eliot to stop him from worrying, but not Beth? How was that fair? And Eden was saying nothing to defend her so-called friend either. Look at her, sitting there as if butter wouldn't melt! Once again, little-Miss-Perfect had got off scot-free while others suffered. Could that bitch do no wrong?
As Eliot rubbed his face, clearly stressed, Emerald pushed all thoughts of hatred for Eden away and focused on the matter in hand. So, James Fuller thought he could make a fool of her? Thank God she hadn't fallen for his lies. How bad would she be feeling now if she had slept with him? Well, he wasn't going to get away with making an idiot of her, nor of threatening Eliot's happiness. 'You're going to need a solicitor,' she told Eliot. 'A good one.'
'Oh, aye. Like we can afford that,' he said, throwing up his hands in despair.
'Maybe you can't, but I know someone who can,' she said, taking out her mobile phone. 'I won't take any arguments,' she added as he began to protest, 'and once he knows what's going on, neither will my father. James Fuller won't know what's hit him.'
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cain couldn't believe his luck. He'd been wracking his brains all week for an excuse to head back up to Yorkshire, without making Connie feel that he was pressuring her. After all, it had only been a week since their last meeting. He didn't want to come across as needy, but now he could truthfully tell her he was here on business. He didn't have to mention it was family business, after all, and for some reason it was important to him that there was an element of truth in his words. He didn't like lying to her. She'd had enough of being lied to. This was a godsend, giving him a legitimate reason to be back in Skimmerdale.
As he drove through Kirkby Skimmer, heading towards The Paradise Hotel, the blood pounded in his veins at the thought of meeting up with Connie again. It had felt like forever.
He'd thought about texting her many times, but he'd always managed to stop himself from doing so. He didn't want to come across as clingy. Besides, what could he do about his unexpected longing to be with her? Not much use when he was in the Cotswolds and she was in — well, wherever the hell she was. Although they'd exchanged phone numbers, they'd sort of reached an agreement that there'd be no contact between them unless he was in Skimmerdale. Well, now he was, and he couldn't wait to dump his stuff in his hotel room and send her a message. First, though, there was the little matter of James bleeding Fuller to deal with.
Cain could hardly believe what Emerald had told him on the phone and had insisted that Eden speak to him to confirm what was said. It hadn't pleased Emerald at all, but he didn't care. This was way too important to act upon without getting to the truth of the matter. Eden had, however, explained concisely that this Fuller bloke was, indeed, George's natural father, that he was threatening court action to obtain custody of the little fella, and that Eliot was beside himself.
Well, that wasn't surprising. Who'd have thought it, though? He'd kept that quiet. They all had. Well, no one was going to drop this bombshell on the Harlands and run. Not while he was around. They'd had enough to deal with.
Having unpacked, showered and changed, Cain finally allowed himself the pleasure of sending a text message to Connie:
GUESS WHO'S BACK IN TOWN? FANCY ANOTHER TRIP TO PARADISE? J xx
He stared at his phone for a good five minutes, but no response came. What if she'd gone off him? What if she'd found someone else in his absence? He dropped onto the bed, wondering what it was that horrified him the most — the thought of her shagging some random geezer, maybe in another room down the corridor, perish the thought, or how desolate the fact that she may have moved on made him feel.
None of that lark, Cain, he told himself firmly. This is fun. There's plenty more fish in the sea. 'Maybe so, mate,' he muttered to himself, 'but I ain't exactly dangling the best bait these days. Flaming lucky to have landed a catch like Connie.' He threw a last, despairing glance at the phone, which remained resolutely silent, then grabbed his jacket and shoved the obstinate gadget into his pocket, where it immediately began to vibrate against his hip.
Cain nearly dropped the damned thing in his hurry to read the message, then scowled and shoved it back in his pocket as he registered that it was from Emerald:
ARE YOU IN YORKSHIRE YET? WE'RE WAITING FOR YOU SO DON'T LET US DOWN!
Not so much as a kiss! Emerald wasn't the emotional sort, he thought. He wasn't sure she knew how to show affection. He'd certainly never witnessed it. He wondered if she was more loving towards her mother but couldn't imagine she would be. He thought it would be very hard to give hugs and kisses to someone whose lifestyle choices forced you to shit in a bucket.
It seemed to take forever to drive to Fleetsthorpe, and the continued silence from his jacket pocket made the journey drag even more. He was relieved to pull into the farmyard at last and had recovered enough from his despair to hope that Eden had done some baking. He could fancy one of her cheese scones, or ginger cake squares. No one could bake like Eden. He wished he'd appreciated her skills more, back when she was working for him.
'Cain!' Eden threw open the door, as if she'd been looking out for him, which gratified him somewhat. 'I'm so grateful you came. It's really good of you.'
She embraced him and murmured in his ear, 'Go careful. Eliot's very touchy about this and if he seems a bit narky with you, ignore him.'
Ignoring Eliot when he was being narky was a gift Cain had already cultivated, so he merely squeezed Eden's arm and followed her into the farmhouse.
Ex
pecting to find a house full, he was surprised, and a bit miffed if he was being honest, to discover that the kitchen was empty. Eden ushered him into a chair and immediately began to make him a cup of tea, which is what Eden always did. 'How about a slice of coffee and walnut cake? Or I've baked some of the ginger cake you love if you prefer?'
Cain sagged against the back of the chair, feeling soothed. 'Now you're talking, darls. A square of that will do nicely — two if you can spare them. I need to stock up while I'm here.'
Eden grinned and reached into the top cupboard, taking out a large vintage-style cake tin, cheerily decorated with pictures of cupcakes. She passed it to him and he peered in, delighted to find it full of the delicious ginger cake squares he so loved. Helping himself to a couple of squares and nodding his thanks as Eden placed a small plate in front of him, he took a bite of the cake before he'd even thought to enquire where everyone was.
Eden managed to decipher his words through the cake. 'Jed's in the lambing shed. They're tagging and marking the lambs, ready to turn them outside, but they know you're on the way, so they'll be in any moment. Emerald's disappeared. She muttered something about having something to do and then left.'
'Bleeding cheek of her!' Cain took out his mobile phone and waved it at Eden. 'She's the one who texted me, demanding that I get my sorry arse here on time, and she's only done a bunk! I'll never fathom that girl.' He cast a sly glance at the screen of his phone, but it showed no texts had been received. Bugger it.
'Tell me about it,' Eden said, rolling her eyes. 'I have to say, Cain, she's a nightmare to live with. I mean, Honey was horrible, too, but at least she had the excuse of being younger. Emerald's twenty-seven, for goodness sake. She should have learned some manners by now.'
