The Maverick's Bride

by Catherine Palmer

  “I’m going to my room.” She stood. “Good night.”

  Adam looked at her. “Thank you, Emma…for Tolito. You were good with him.”

  Forcing away the urge to soften, she made her way down the hall. Stepping into the bedroom, she shut the door and leaned against it, breathless. Tears welled, and she crumpled in exhaustion to the floor.

  She loved him. She knew too well it was forbidden, hopeless and utterly impossible, but she could not suppress it. Even though she might find Cissy, might even start her nursing work, her life would seem meaningless without that love. Without Adam.

  Her own willfulness, she saw, had led to this agony. Since setting foot in Africa, she had hardly taken time to pray or seek God’s leading. Instead, she had forged ahead on her own. Now she was caught in a snare—trapped body, heart and soul. How, in the darkness of the African night, could she ever see her way into the sunshine again?

  Adam stood in his favorite place on the verandah. By the light of the moon, he could see the landscape he loved bathed in silver. He would not trade this vista for a chest full of gold. On this land, he had planted his dreams and would reap his future.

  He leaned one shoulder against a rough-hewn post. After dinner, he had gone to his room, bathed and made an attempt to sleep. Too restless to lie still, he rose and stepped outside. An hour of pacing and pondering had left him no closer to peace.

  “Adam King.”

  He turned to find Emma standing in the shadows just outside her bedroom door. She wore a white robe embroidered in white roses that caught the moonlight as she stepped closer.

  “May I speak to you?” she asked. An edge of flint in her tone belied the softness of her hair and gown.

  “Sure,” he replied.

  “I want the truth from you. I want it now. No more lies.”

  He scrutinized the woman as he moved toward her. She held her shoulders high. Her stubborn little chin jutted forward. But as her eyes followed him, he saw her tremble ever so slightly.

  “The truth, Emma?” he said, lightly taking her shoulders. He pivoted her toward the trees in the distance. “Look out there. That’s the only truth I know.”

  He pointed to a baobab. Two large spotted cats crept along the limb, their thick tails twitching gracefully from side to side. They moved toward something else…the shape of an animal hanging in the forked branch. The leopards pawed at the dead antelope, its horns hanging askew toward the ground. Then they tore into their catch, grunting with pleasure as they feasted.

  At the sound, Emma gasped. She stepped backward into him, her breath shallow. “Adam, let me go. I’m frightened.”

  “You wanted the truth, Emma. There it is. The truth is that we’re no different from those leopards. They schemed to catch that gazelle and they caught her. Then they dragged her up into the tree where no other animal could have her. They left for the day, and tonight they came back.”

  “I see them.” She hugged herself. “What are you trying to tell me?”

  He turned her to face him. “Every man is out to get the most he can for himself, Emma. He’ll plot and scheme and stake out his claim. Then he’ll move in for the kill. Once he’s got what he was after, he’ll hide it away where no one else can have it, so that he can enjoy it for himself.”

  As he spoke, he searched her eyes. Tormented to a mossy green, they darted across his face.

  “And that’s what you’re like?” she whispered.

  “That’s what everyone’s like,” he told her. “That’s what you’re like, Emma.”

  “No, you’re wrong. Look, I came here to help you, Adam. By helping Tolito.”

  “I forced your hand. You didn’t want to come. You have your own plans. You want to be a nurse, right? Never mind that someone might want you to—”

  He bit off the words and looked away. His pulse roared and he clenched his jaw against the throbbing in his temples. Why was he hurting her like this? What had she done to deserve his cruelty? It wasn’t Emma he was angry with…it was himself.

  “You’ve done everything possible to make your dream come true.” Emma’s voice wavered. “Haven’t you?”

  “Not everything.” Again he stopped himself. No, he couldn’t tell her. He couldn’t bring it out again. He had hidden it so well. But she had forced him to look at it again—that old longing, that hunger to share his life with someone.

  “What is it, Adam? Is there more to your dream?”

  He let out a breath and walked away. No, he wouldn’t tell her. He didn’t need to add another heartache to his life. He had angered his parents, turned them against him. And Clarissa—look what he’d done to her. He had allowed Tolito’s life to be ruined. So many mistakes.

  “Adam, tell me.” Emma came after him and caught his hand. “I want what’s best for you. Don’t be mistaken about me. I love you—” She stopped, her eyes wide with dismay. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “No, you were right to say it.” He looked away, anxious as a big caged cat. “I’ve gone wrong so many times, Emma. So many lives. But not this time. Not with you. I love you, Emma.”

  His eyes met hers, the knowledge between them almost too stunning to bear. And then the desire they had tried to deny drew them together with unimaginable power. He embraced her on the moonlit verandah, and she met his kiss.

  “Adam, I’ve been so tormented,” she whispered.

  “I’m yours, Emma. Every day, every hour.” He wanted her to know it all. He wanted to hold nothing back now, nothing. “I love you, Emma. I’ve never known anything like this feeling I have with you. It’s so right, so good.”

  She nestled her head on his chest and spoke against his shirt. “Just hold me, Adam.”

  He tried to focus his thoughts. “Emma, I want you to stay.”

  She looked up. “Stay? But I must find—”

  “Cissy, I know. I’m going to help you find her. But after that—” She covered his mouth with her fingertips.

  “After that,” she said gently. “After that, I have my mission to fulfill. Working as a nurse in Africa is…”

  She stopped speaking, and he felt sure he knew why. “I don’t want you to turn from your calling, Emma. Every dream I’ve had, I’ve made it come true. I’ve forced it to come true, even when the odds were against me.”

  “This is different.” Emma drew back from him. “You cannot force this. You cannot force God.”

  “Emma, please.” He reached for her.

  “I should go back to my room now. We must forget what was confessed here tonight.”

  Adam watched her walk away. For the first time in his life, he had found what he had been seeking, and she would not come to him. She refused to be his even though he had vowed to be hers.

  He knew what he must do—go to Emma and tell her everything. That was what held her back—the secrets he’d kept. He would tell her the whole story. But there was more to it. Something else was keeping her from him even more powerfully. Clarissa? Cissy? The determination never to belong to any man? Her dead mother’s past? What was it?

  God, he realized, was at the heart of it all. Emma was called by God, and no man could ever truly have her.

  He leaned against the post again, his gaze fixed on the moon. Never mind that life promised only emptiness without her. For now, for this moment, he knew that Emma loved him. That was enough.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Lions. We have a lot of trouble with lions.” Adam buttered a thick slice of bread as he spoke. Emma observed him across the table, her eyes following his every movement. Framed in the light of dawn, he seemed almost to glow. His dark hair, blue shirt and deeply tanned skin set up a vibrant contrast with the emerald and pink of the landscape behind him. He was onyx on a field of rubies and sapphires, more brilliant because of his darkness.

  “They get old, you see, and their teeth and claws start to fall out. Then they can’t hunt as well and they start to search for easy prey. That’s when they go after my cattle.”

 
; “They could decimate your profits, I imagine.” Emma lifted her teacup to her lips.

  “Exactly. I supply a lot of beef to Mombasa. And when the rail line comes through my land, I’ll be able to build up my herds because the transportation will be so much simpler.”

  Emma nodded. The dreamer was speaking, and she warmed to this part of Adam that merged with the dreamer in her. It was good to be here breakfasting with him. She had slept well, relieved to have confessed her true feelings. They had an understanding now. They cared deeply for each other but would never let their attraction take control.

  As Adam talked, she scanned the landscape beyond the large windowpane. The sun had just risen over the acacia trees behind the house. A warm pink glow colored the white tablecloth and lit up a pitcher of water.

  “We talked before about the town to be built inland,” Adam was saying.

  “Nairobi?”

  He smiled. “That’s right. Nairobi will be built in the highlands, where the best farmland is. That will create more demand for my beef.”

  “If you can keep the lions away.”

  “There is that,” he acknowledged.

  Emma reflected on Nicholas’s excited panoply of schemes. Somehow his plans sounded different from Adam’s. Nicholas’s words had conveyed greed, gain for gain’s sake. Adam spoke as though striving for his dreams was more important than achieving them.

  “Everyone’s talking about Nairobi.” Adam downed the last of his coffee. “Frankly, I’ve got some reservations about it. Civilization ruined the American West and it’ll destroy this land, too, if someone doesn’t commit to take care of it, starting right now.”

  “But there’s so much empty land. So many animals.”

  “Huge herds of bison used to range across the West. Now you’d have trouble finding a single animal. It could happen here, too. Sometimes I see a family of elephants wandering toward a waterhole, and the line stretches farther than I can see. But at the harbor I’ve seen rows of tusks piled up by the hundreds. For a few dainty earrings, an elephant dies. For a dagger hilt, a rhino is slaughtered.”

  “You’ll put a stop to it,” Emma murmured.

  A question mark furrowed his brow. She laid her hand on his. “You won’t let them destroy the land and the animals. I’m sure you can work with the government. You’ll be named to some post, some ministry, perhaps. Minister of wildlife—that sounds appropriate.”

  “I’m an American, Emma. The British have their grip on this country so tight it’ll be years before the Africans get it back.”

  “Get it back?”

  “Do you think the people are going to sit around and let you tell them what to do forever?” He glowered out the window at the wakening farm. “Africans have their own government, their own way of managing. They have a civilization, no matter how savage your government thinks they are.”

  Emma listened, wary. Was Adam speaking treason? Would his outrage lead him to try to sabotage England’s rule of a promising new colony? Did he imagine the Germans to be good for Africa?

  “If you plan to stay in the protectorate, Emma, you’d better know what’s going on.” He broke into her thoughts before she could sort them out. “One of these days, things are going to get troublesome. A smart woman will know where she stands.”

  He didn’t give her time to answer before changing the topic. “So, how about a ride? I’ll show you my land.”

  “Ride? On a horse?”

  Adam gave a low laugh. “I don’t have a Stanhope out here. Not enough roads. If you’re not up to it, you can stay here and rest.”

  “I’m certainly up to riding a horse. I’m quite a good rider now, if I do say so myself.”

  “Indeed, you are.”

  “But what about Tolito?”

  “He’s comfortable. I checked on him this morning. We can drop by on our way to the stables. Linde is there and she takes good care of him. I’d like for you to see my ranch.”

  Emma nodded. She wanted to share it with him, more than almost anything.

  “We’ll visit the villages,” he said. “I can ask if anyone has news of your sister. We’ll be back here by noon. And I have an English saddle at the stable. You won’t even need to change clothes.”

  The brass ring on her finger caught the sunlight as Emma absorbed his words. It would be Clarissa’s saddle, of course. This was her house, too. And the man she loved. Emma was ready to refuse Adam’s invitation when she looked into his blue eyes.

  “A ride would be lovely,” she murmured. “I should very much like to see your land.”

  “Wait here in the barn. You’ll be warmer there. I’ll bring the horses in to saddle them.”

  Adam studied Emma as he spoke. She watched bemused as he reached out and fastened the top button of her wool jacket. “Go on inside before you freeze. Soapy’s probably still asleep in the loft.”

  Thrusting her hands into her pockets, Emma hurried into the barn adjoining the stables. Like the barns she had meandered through as a child on the family’s country estate in England, Adam’s smelled of sweet hay and well-used leather. Saddles rested on a long beam supported by sawhorses. Bridles and other tack hung from bent nails on the wall. Bales of hay stood stacked in one corner, and a pile of loose straw covered part of the floor.

  While Adam worked with the horses, Emma ran her fingers along brightly colored wool saddle blankets as she strolled toward the dim recesses at the back beneath the loft.

  During breakfast, she had managed to sort the confusion in her mind into manageable boxes tied with pretty bows. Cissy was with Dirk, and soon Emma would find her. Tolito would get well after a trip to Mombasa to see a doctor. But Emma knew she had made a difference, and before long she would find a hospital where she could work. Perhaps she would start a clinic here, on Adam’s ranch. She could live in a little house like Soapy’s and sew curtains and learn to speak the native tongues as well as Adam did. Sometimes she and Adam would ride out together, as good friends often do.

  Emma bumped her knee on something hard and unmoving, and her thoughts vanished. In the faint light, she felt a rough wooden edge and realized with a start that it was one of the crates Adam had brought from Mombasa. He had them hidden here. She touched the padlocks and cool metal straps.

  Farm tools? Nicholas’s laughter echoed as she traced her fingers over stamped black letters: King Farms Ltd., Mombasa, British Protectorate of East Africa.

  “Who’s there?” The click of a gun being cocked followed the words. “I said who’s there?”

  “I…I’m Emmaline Pickering.”

  “Well, glory be.” Soapy’s voice registered relief. “What’re you doing pokin’ around back here, ma’am? You coulda got killed.”

  Emma tried to smile. “Forgive me, Mr. Potts. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I was waiting for Adam.”

  “Mornin’, cowpoke!” Adam’s hearty voice boomed through the barn. “You’re up just in time. Come help me saddle this worthless old mare of yours.”

  “Anything you say, boss.” Soapy shuffled toward the light, muttering as he went. “Ol’ Red can’t rightly be called mine no more. Your little woman’s pretty much took her over.”

  Before joining Adam, Emma took a quick look at the crates. She had ridden with them all the way to the border and on to the ranch, and here they sat. So intent had she been on finding Cissy that she had hardly given them a thought. But now she understood this might be her last chance to learn the truth about Adam. Inside these crates were either guns and ammunition or farm tools—proof of his guilt or innocence.

  The chests were locked, but tools hung on the nearby wall. Closing her eyes for a moment, she lifted up a prayer and made her decision. She must open a crate.

  “Emma?” Adam called out. She could hear the horses stamping impatiently.

  “Coming!” With a deep breath for fortification, she hurried out to him. She would be calm and sensible now. And when the opportunity arose, she would seize it.

  “I used to sit in
our barn in England,” she told Adam as she approached. “I would read for hours, and no one knew where I was. Father called it a waste of time, but Mama defended my dreaming. She believed that without dreams, life was worth nothing.”

  Emma slid her boot into the stirrup and started to pull herself up when she felt Adam’s hands at her waist. He helped her onto the saddle and then adjusted the reins.

  “One time I run off, too.” Soapy was settling his hat on his head. “Took a apple pie off the kitchen winder and stayed gone three days. Slept in a ol’ ditch and got rained on. When I decided to go home, Pa took one look at me and tol’ me to go milk the cows. He never even knowed I’d been gone.”

  “We would miss you around here, Soap,” Adam told him. “Stick around, old partner.”

  “I ain’t goin’ nowheres ’cep’ down to the house for some grub. That trail cook you got is plain terrible.”

  Tolito was sleeping when they looked in, and Adam was glad Emma chose not to wake him. Linde had bathed her brother’s wounds in the night. Even though she had hardly slept, her dark eyes sparkled with life. Emma gave several instructions before she and Adam left the little house.

  The morning ride could not have been better. The horses pranced through the dewy grass, shaking their heads and snorting in the crisp air. Thomson’s gazelles, their black-and-white tails flicking briskly, glanced up at the riders, then took flight with springing bounds. Hartebeests, with their ears and horns in perfect parallels, observed the pair on horseback. A mother rhino lifted her two curved gray horns into the air as a warning to the passers-by before returning to grazing beside her baby.

  Adam took Emma to his pump house and showed her the inner workings of the valuable machine he had imported. Drawing water from a borehole dug deeply into the ground, the pump supplied a lifeline for the cattle. Next they rode along his fences to check for breaks in the wire. Adam stretched his arm across the land to show Emma the boundaries of his ranch. As far as the eye could see, endless acres stretched unfenced and unmarked.