“I don’t know. It was all so complicated. Gavin didn’t care about me, and Patrick did. Patrick was kind and gentle. And perhaps I felt guilty for loving Gavin while Dru was still alive.” Her voice fell to a whisper. “It felt as if I was glad Dru died. But I wasn’t glad. I loved her. Her and the children.”
“Oh, Emily.”
“Patrick was so good to me after the funeral. To all of us. Gavin pulled away from everyone, even the girls for a brief while, but Patrick was there, helping us in every way he could. I knew he loved me, so I said yes when he proposed. I believed I could learn to love him in time. But that wasn’t fair to him. I made such a mess of things.”
Maggie stood. “I think we’ve talked long enough, dearest. You need to get some sleep.”
Emily continued as if her sister hadn’t spoken. “When Mr. Martin told me what had happened with Gavin’s parents, I understood a little better why he . . . why he’s the way he is. Why he’s so guarded with his heart. But I also realized that I couldn’t marry Patrick. Not feeling the way I do about Gavin. I was hoping, once I broke the engagement, that Gavin would realize he cared for me too.”
Maggie brushed Emily’s hair off her forehead and caressed her cheek. “Get some sleep, dearest.”
There was a world of pain in the pale blue eyes that looked up at Maggie. “He didn’t even let me tell him good-bye. He didn’t let me say good-bye to the children. I wanted him to love me, and I made him despise me instead.”
Maggie wanted to hate Gavin Blake in that moment. How dare he hurt her baby sister so? But hate was never the solution. Besides, if Emily loved him, there must be a great deal about the man that was good.
Thirty-Two
When Gavin reached Boise, he rented a room at the Overland Hotel and paid for a bath and a shave before inquiring about directions to the Branigan ranch. Once on his way, it didn’t take long to get there.
He pulled the gelding to a halt at the end of the long drive that led to the Branigan home. It was a sprawling gray clapboard house, built for a large family, two stories tall with a veranda wrapped around three sides. The house at the Lucky Strike paled in comparison. Familiar doubt surged through him, but he ignored it, nudging the horse with his heels.
He dismounted near the front door and twirled the reins around the hitching post before climbing the steps. On the porch, he paused, removed his hat, and smoothed back his hair. Even after taking the time to clean up, he feared his appearance was still a bit rough. But it couldn’t be helped. He knocked at the door and waited. There was a slight commotion from the other side of the door before it was yanked open. Two boys, approximately the same ages as Sabrina and Petula, looked up at him.
“Hello. I’m here to see Emily Harris. Is she in?”
“Who’re you?” the youngest of the two asked.
Before he could reply, he heard another voice, this one feminine. “Colin. Sheridan. Ask whoever is there to come in. It’s too cold to make them stand outside.”
The door swung wide and he caught a glimpse of emerald skirts on the stairway. A moment later, Maggie Branigan stepped into view. The smile of welcome vanished from her mouth. “Mr. Blake.” Her tone was flat and cool.
“Mrs. Branigan. I’ve come to see Emily.”
“Please come in.” She motioned toward an adjoining room. “Would you like a cup of coffee or tea to warm you?”
“Don’t go to any bother for me.”
The look in her eyes made him feel like something smelly she’d found on the bottom of her shoe. Not that he blamed her.
“Colin, run up to Aunt Emily’s room and tell her she has a visitor. Ask her to join us. Sheridan, go with your brother.” Maggie looked at Gavin again. “Please join me.” Then she led the way into the parlor. “We may have a while to wait. Emily hasn’t been down yet today and isn’t dressed.” She sat on a rose-colored sofa.
Not dressed? At this hour? He settled onto a chair opposite her.
“Emily fell ill with influenza upon our return to Boise.”
“She was ill?” His gaze darted toward the staircase. She’d had influenza at the same time as his daughters. If he hadn’t sent her away, he could have cared for her. What if —
“You needn’t worry, Mr. Blake,” Maggie said, bringing his attention back to her. “She’s recovering nicely. What business brings you to Boise?”
“I came to see Emily.”
“I find that rather strange, Mr. Blake, considering it was you who sent her away.”
There was a greater resemblance between these sisters than he’d thought at first. He recognized the steely resolve in both Maggie Branigan’s words and her posture.
“I made a mistake, Mrs. Branigan. We want her to return.”
“I see.” She rose from the sofa. “It may not be as easy as that, sir.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“You’ll have to.” She moved toward the doorway. “Excuse me while I see about the tea.”
“Who is it?” Emily asked Colin when he delivered Maggie’s message.
“Don’t know. Never seen him before.”
Him? Oh, she hoped it wasn’t Matthew Foreman. But it couldn’t be Matthew. Colin would recognize him.
It was tempting to send her regrets. She’d felt a terrible lethargy ever since her talk with Maggie last night. She would be very poor company for whoever had come calling. Then again, her sister wouldn’t have sent for her if she didn’t feel Emily should come down.
She donned a simple day dress of yellow linen and tied back her hair at the nape with a ribbon. She scarcely glanced at her reflection in the mirror before leaving the bedroom and descending the stairs.
She was prepared for anyone except for the person she found waiting in the parlor. Could she be seeing things, the way she had when her fever raged? She gave her head a slow shake and closed her eyes. But when she opened them, Gavin was still there. She sank onto the nearest chair at the same moment he rose to his feet.
He needs a haircut.
He studied her with an intense gaze.
He looks tired.
“Hello, Emily.”
“Mr. Blake.” She hated the breathless sound of her voice. “Where’s Maggie?”
He took a step toward her. “She went to see about some tea.”
“What are you doing in Boise?”
“I came to see you. I wanted to talk to you.”
“To see me.” Pain twisted in her belly. “I thought you said everything in your note that was delivered with my trunk.”
“I’m sorry for that. I made a mistake. If you’d give me a chance to explain . . .”
She looked at her hands, clenched in her lap. “You don’t owe me any explanations, Mr. Blake.”
Gavin closed the distance between them. He stopped about a foot away, towering over her, but she refused to look up. She was too tired to look up. She hadn’t the strength for this. As much as it had hurt that he’d sent her away without a good-bye, maybe that had been the better way. Saying good-bye to him would hurt too much now.
But he knelt before her, bringing himself to her eye level. “I was wrong, Emily. I hurt you. I shouldn’t have sent you away like that, and I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry,” she said softly.
“The girls miss you. They need you.” He paused. “I need you.”
She shook her head, scarcely hearing him.
“I would have come sooner, but Pet and Brina were sick. They had influenza too, like you. Patrick told me there’s been an outbreak of it in the mining camps. You and the girls must have contracted it at the same time.”
“How are they?” The question was unnecessary. She knew Gavin wouldn’t have left them if they weren’t recovered.
“They’re well now, but they want you to come back with me.”
It wasn’t fair of him, using her love for the children against her. “It’s better if they don’t see me again.”
“Well, if not for them, what about your promise to Dr
u?”
Anger replaced pain and sorrow as she rose from the chair. “You sent me away, Mr. Blake. It’s you who forgot your wife’s request, not I.” She turned and walked toward the doorway.
“Emily . . .”
The tone of his voice conveyed many things. Things she hadn’t expected. Against her better judgment, she turned to look at him.
“I’ve gone about this all wrong. You don’t understand. It’s not easy for me to put my feelings into words.”
It was only guilt for the way he’d dismissed her that had brought him here. Guilt and the need for a woman to watch his children.
The thought twisted the familiar knots in her stomach. She wished she could hate him. But she couldn’t. She loved him — as much as she’d ever loved him. But she would never tell him so. Not now. “It doesn’t matter. We both made mistakes. I forgive you. Does that make you feel better? Now you can return to your ranch with a clear conscience.” With shoulders erect and head held high, she walked toward the stairway and the sanctuary of her room. “Good day, Mr. Blake. Please show yourself out.”
“I’ll be back, Emily. I promise you, I’ll be back.”
Thirty-Three
For a solid week, Gavin called daily at the Branigan home, and for a solid week, Emily refused to see him. Maggie, however, seemed to warm to him with each passing day. Perhaps she began to realize that he was determined, that he wouldn’t give up easily. Perhaps she came to believe that he loved Emily and wasn’t going away until he could tell her so. By the end of those seven days, Gavin knew he had gained an ally in Maggie Branigan.
But his mission to Boise would still fail unless Emily agreed to see him. And so, as a new week began, Gavin decided to ask for help from someone who wanted Emily’s happiness as much as he did.
“I won’t take no for an answer,” Maggie said, giving Emily a pointed look. “It’s time you got out for a bit of fresh air. We’ll do some shopping and then have lunch with Tucker.”
“I really don’t want to — ”
“I don’t care what you want. This time you will do as I say. You can’t hide in your room for the rest of your life.”
Emily didn’t intend to stay there for the rest of her life. Only until she knew Gavin had left Boise. Only until there was no risk of seeing him again.
“You’re going with me, and that’s that. Now put on something pretty to help lift your spirits.”
Emily knew when she was defeated. Maggie could not be budged when she was in this sort of mood. And maybe she was right. It would be good to get out. The weather had been unseasonably warm the past few days. A buggy ride might be just what she needed to lift her spirits.
She took a favorite blue dress from the wardrobe and slipped into it, then sat at her dressing table to brush her hair, sweeping it high and securing it with a decorative comb.
Her hand stilled as she remembered the day of the O’Donnell wedding and the comb she had given Dru. How very long ago that seemed. Another lifetime ago. She closed her eyes and allowed the memories to wash over her . . . Dru, frail but happy on the last outing she would have before going home to the Father . . . Sabrina, her young girl’s heart breaking over the older boy who paid her no attention . . . Gavin, wanting to shelter his adopted daughter from pain.
“The girls miss you. They need you. I need you.”
But missing and being missed wasn’t enough.
She gave her hair a final pat. She would not think of Gavin today. She would force him from her mind, once and for all.
“I’m Gavin Blake,” he told the clerk. “Judge Branigan is expecting me.”
“Yes, sir. Please come with me.” The young man rose and led the way to an adjoining office.
The judge’s chamber was a large, high-ceilinged room, two walls lined with tall bookcases filled with books. Wood crackled in a wide-mouthed fireplace, throwing dancing fingers of light across the ornate rug. An oak desk stood before tall windows framed with heavy brocade draperies, and Tucker Branigan sat in the chair behind the desk.
“Come in, Mr. Blake.” He stood. “You may close the door, Sedgwick. Please see that we’re not disturbed.”
“Yes, sir.”
Tucker motioned toward a chair opposite him. “Have a seat, Mr. Blake.”
Gavin crossed the room and sat in the indicated chair, silently praying that all would go well.
“You’ve made quite an impression on my wife,” Tucker said. “A positive one, I might add.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Judge Branigan.”
“Call me Tucker.”
Gavin relaxed a little.
“Maggie seems to think you’ll make her sister happy.”
“I’ll do my level best, given the chance.”
Tucker chuckled softly. “Be warned. Emily has the same stubborn streak as Maggie. She won’t be easily led where she doesn’t want to go.”
Gavin recalled those early weeks in the basin, Emily so determined to prove him wrong. “I’ve seen some of that trait.”
A light rap sounded on the door before it eased open enough for the clerk to show his head. “Mrs. Branigan is here, sir. Shall I show her in?”
“Yes, Sedgwick. Thank you.”
This was it. The moment had arrived. What could be his final chance to set things right. Gavin rose from the chair and took a couple of steps back toward the wall.
A short while later, Maggie and Emily entered the judge’s chambers. Emily wore a gown of shimmery dark blue. Her hair was swept high on her head and capped with a matching bonnet. She didn’t notice him right away. Instead she watched as Maggie rounded the oak desk and gave Tucker a quick kiss on the cheek. He saw her expression turn pensive.
“We came to take you to lunch,” Maggie said. Then she turned slowly, pretending to be taken aback when her eyes met Gavin’s. “Why, Mr. Blake. This is a surprise.”
She was a superb actress.
“Mrs. Branigan.” Gavin nodded at her as his gaze returned to Emily. “Miss Harris.”
He thought she might bolt for the door, but her brother-in-law stopped her.
“Emily, don’t go. It seems Mr. Blake has a legal matter that he would like addressed. The matter of a verbal contract.”
She blinked. “I’m sorry.”
“It has to do with your promise to remain in his employ until spring. Mr. Blake feels you have broken that contract by leaving Challis.”
“But he sent me away. You know he did. You saw my trunk and the note.”
“I saw the trunk, but I didn’t know why he brought it to you. You never showed me what was in the note. Did you show Maggie?”
“No.”
“Do you have it with you now?”
“Of course not.” She glared at Gavin. “I threw it away.”
There it was — her anger. The stiffening of her back and lifting of her chin. The color rising in her cheeks. The spark in her eyes. Glorious. Beautiful. He’d missed seeing this side of her. Gavin suppressed a smile. It wouldn’t do for Emily to think he was laughing at her.
“That’s unfortunate.” Tucker shook his head. “Well, it seems that the only thing to do is leave you two alone to work out a fair settlement. You may use my office while I take my wife to lunch. I expect you to have reached an agreement by the time we return.” His voice deepened. “And if either of you leaves before this is resolved, you will be fined and it shall not be a small one. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Judge,” Gavin answered.
“Understood,” Emily said. Her voice could have frozen fire.
Tucker took his wife by the arm. “Where shall we dine, Maggie? I’m famished.”
The moment the door closed behind them, Emily spun toward Gavin. “How dare you!”
“You wouldn’t see me. You wouldn’t give me another chance to say what I came to Boise to say. I bungled it the first time. I needed another chance.”
She gave her head a slight toss. “I’m not interested in anything else you have to say to me.” Then sh
e walked to the windows behind Tucker’s desk and stared outside.
How could he do this to her? Accuse her of breaking a verbal contract. That was absurd. Ridiculous. He had sent her away. He hadn’t wanted her.
“The girls miss you. They need you. I need you.”
She was glad the girls and Gavin needed her, but that was no longer enough for Emily. Not enough by half. She had no intention of settling for less than his whole heart. And that, she believed now, was something he would never offer her or any woman.
“We need to sit down and talk,” Gavin said.
Startled by the nearness of his voice, she turned to find him standing within arm’s reach. Too close. The anger drained out of her. She couldn’t stay angry when he was so near. Near enough to touch. Near enough to see the slight shadow of a beard beneath the skin on his jaw. Near enough to see the rise and fall of his Adam’s apple when he swallowed.
Near enough to kiss.
She closed her eyes, resisting the thought.
“Your brother-in-law says we must resolve the matter before he returns.”
“It was resolved when I returned to Boise.” Tears threatened, but she blinked them away. “It was resolved when you sent me away.”
“You broke your engagement to Patrick.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t love him, and he deserves a wife who loves him.” She looked down at her hands, folded tightly at her waist. “At first I thought I would learn to love him, given enough time, but then I realized I couldn’t.”
“Why? He’s a good man.”
“It doesn’t matter why.” She turned toward the window a second time.
“It matters to me, Emily.” His hands alighted on her shoulders, and then, before she could shrug him away, he turned her to face him. She couldn’t look him in the eye. “It matters to me because . . . I love you, and I think you love me. I hope you love me.”
She found she could look at him after all. In sheer disbelief. Surely he hadn’t spoken those words. She felt the blood draining from her head. Only his firm grip on her upper arms kept her upright.
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