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Chosen

Page 9

by Denise Grover Swank


  She took the bag from him, looking up into his face. Moving this close to her was a mistake. His breath caught in his chest and the fire he tempered earlier now roared back to life. His fried brain told him to reach out to her. Instinct told him to stop.

  “I’ve got to go, too.” He turned abruptly and walked toward the tree to get a moment away from her. The sound of the truck door opening and closing blended with the sound of crickets and the rustle of corn. When he finished he found her sitting on the truck bed, her legs dangling. Her arms braced her as she leaned back, searching the clear starry sky. Her long dark hair blew in the soft breeze behind her back. She heard him approaching and twisted her head and smiled. The sincerity of her smile astounded him.

  He sat next to her on the edge of the tailgate, a foot away, careful not to touch. “What are you looking at?”

  “The stars. When I was a little girl I used to wish on the stars.” Her voice was wistful with memory.

  He copied her, leaning back braced on his arms. “And what did you wish for?”

  “A father.”

  Her answer surprised him. Will tried to remember what his little sister wished for. Dolls, ponies, Prince Charming. He studied her still upturned face. There was no self-pity on her face, only contemplation.

  “Did your life turn out how you expected it to, Will?” Her voice was soft against the rustle of the stalks in the cornfields.

  He didn’t expect that one either. “No.”

  She sighed, accepting his answer without explanation. “Me neither.” She looked into his face. Her eyes were like magnets, making him incapable of breaking contact. “But for some reason tonight, I can forget my life sucks. I can forget that my sleeping son has a miserable excuse for a mother. Tonight, I can sit here under the stars and just be.”

  “Why?” he asked softly.

  She turned back to the sky. “I don’t know. It’s really strange, something just feels different. I feel safe.”

  “You’re not a miserable excuse for a mother.”

  Emma’s head twisted back to him. Her eyes narrowed, as if she suspected a false motive, then she shook her head. “A good mother would protect her son. A good mother would provide a stable home. A father.” A small, bitter laugh escaped from her throat. “Ironic, isn’t it? The only thing I wanted as a child I failed to give to my own son, not that the sorry excuse of a man who fathered Jake has the right to call himself one.”

  “Where is Jake’s father?”

  “Where he belongs, no part of Jake’s life.”

  She laid down on the bed of the truck and sighed, closing her eyes, her hair pooling around her. Will watched her, entranced. What the fuck is wrong with me? He resisted the urge to shake his head to clear it. The need to be close to this exposed Emma stymied him. He definitely was not himself tonight and he had no idea why.

  “What did you want when you were a little boy?”

  Uncertain how to answer, he remained silent. Why were Jake and Emma constantly making him think about his past?

  Emma sat up and leaned close. “It couldn’t be a dog. I know you had one of those.” She put her hand on his shoulder. Her touch sent a jolt through him. Had she felt it too? He turned slightly and saw her eyes momentarily widen, confusion clouded her eyes before she continued. “What one thing did you think would make you happy?”

  “I wanted…” A snide remark stopped on his tongue as he stared into her eyes. Did she know what she was doing to him? The innocence on her face answered his question.

  Indecision nipped at his conscience. What he wanted most was to kiss her. She was so close. All he had to do was lean a little closer. She smiled, a sweet smile full of the promise her eyes held earlier. But the still-decent part of him knew she deserved better. Despite what Jake said, Will was not a good person and he had plenty of evidence to prove it.

  Will cleared his throat, disappointment clinging to him like the anchor that tethered him to his sins. “I’m tired. I’m going to sleep out here in the back of the truck. You can sleep inside on the backseat.”

  “I’d rather sleep out here under the stars.”

  “I don’t have a pillow. At least the seat is cushioned.”

  “And covered in glass.”

  “I’ll clean it up for you.”

  She studied him again. “A chivalrous Will, who would have thought?” she said with a silky laugh. “Thanks, but I’d rather stay out here.”

  The missing with you only confirmed she was off limits. If Emma gave him a sign she wanted him, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. He hesitated, hoping she’d give him one. When it didn’t come, Will got up and pulled a blanket out of the storage box. “I’ve only got one blanket.”

  “I don’t need one.”

  “I was going to use it for a pillow, but you can use it.”

  “That’s okay. I can use something else.”

  Digging through the box again, he found a t-shirt. After he handed her the blanket, he lay down next to her, putting the wadded shirt behind his head.

  “Thank you.” Her voice was still soft and warm, tugging at his resolve.

  They lay on their backs, mere inches separating them. Will felt the heat radiating from her body.

  “I should probably stay awake and keep watch,” he said, studying the stars above. Out in the country with no city lights, there were thousands more than he was used to.

  “That’s not necessary. We’re safe here.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Somehow I do.”

  Will remembered she'd felt sick before the men in SUVs showed up. “Emma, do you usually sense the Bad Men before they come?”

  “No, that’s Jake, remember?”

  “But today, you did. You knew something was wrong and you felt sick. You sensed them but Jake didn’t. Has that ever happened before?”

  “No.” The softness was replaced with concern.

  “What does it mean?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He felt her tense and against his better judgment, he worried the moment would be lost until he heard her slow even breaths.

  They watched the sky as the sweet smell of the cornfield washed over the truck bed. “Do you know any constellations?” Will asked, not ready to let her go yet.

  “Yeah, I know a few.” He heard the smile in her voice. Her arm reached up and pointed. “There’s the Big Dipper and if you follow that star there in the corner, you can see the North Star.” She moved her arm as she pointed, then lowered her arm and turned to him. “But I’m sure you already know that. You were in the military.”

  She was silent for a moment before she said, “Orion's my favorite, but you can’t see it in the summer.”

  “Why Orion?”

  “I don’t know…I just always have,” she paused. “Will?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Will I always see the face of the man I killed?”

  He could soften his answer, but it seemed unfair. Still he felt badly for her. “Yes.” He sensed her sudden despair. “But it'll fade with time.”

  “When I close my eyes I see him. I see the surprise on his face and the pain. And I know I did that. I killed him.” Torment enveloped her words.

  “You had no choice. He would have killed you and Jake. You did what you had to do.”

  She laid her arms over her head, as if surrendering to it. “It doesn’t make it any easier.”

  He thought of the countless faces whose lives he had extinguished. “No, but it will get better.”

  She sighed again and he fought the urge to touch her and give her comfort. Where the hell were these feelings coming from? He couldn’t remember the last time he cared about someone other than himself. He wanted to blame it on the gunfight earlier, the near-death experience, but he knew better. This vulnerable Emma reopened dreams he’d had long ago. Earlier, Will couldn’t answer what one thing he wanted when he was little because he had forgotten it. He’d stuffed it away with everything else. Now he remembered.r />
  He wanted to be like his dad.

  But he lost that dream along with all the others the day he came home and saw the disappointment and disgust on his father’s face. After the humiliation of his court martial and the self-deprecation he’d heaped on himself, his father’s disapproval was the final blow to his salvation.

  Emma represented the possibility to love and be loved. He wondered what it would be like to see her sweet smile every day. The need to protect her from the men who hunted her overwhelmed him with a surprising intensity. Where did that come from? A heavy sigh of acceptance seeped from deep within. He was a fool. She wasn’t what he craved; it was the promise of the life he’d thrown away years ago and could never have. The blood of too many innocents had rotted his soul.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Emma woke to the chirping of birds, the sun low on the horizon of swaying cornstalks. She rolled over to check on Will, but he was gone. Her back was stiff from sleeping on the hard truck bed and she pushed herself up, her arm still numb from lying on it. After a quick glance around, she found Will sitting under the tree with his back against the trunk. His tipped head and closed eyes told her he was asleep. The memories of the previous evening rushed back and her face burned with embarrassment. Last night the feeling of safety made her unreserved, like a stupid high school girl. She hadn’t felt that safe or free since before Jake and she reveled in it, letting her guard down, saying too much. But the cold light of day brought reality back, front and center. Will had acted so strange the night before. He was probably horrified by her behavior, but she sensed it was something else.

  Emma crawled across the truck bed to look through the open window. Jake was still asleep, curled up on the front seat, cuddling his beloved stuffed dog. She suddenly felt stiff and agitated and scrambled off the truck, walking several feet down the gravel road as she watched the sunrise.

  The sun inched higher and an anxious knot grew in the pit of her stomach. She closed her eyes, filling her lungs with deep breaths in an attempt to calm her jumbled nerves. The undeniable reality that they had almost been killed the night before meant the rules had changed. This was no longer a game of cat and mouse. Jake was in real danger now and Emma had no idea what to do about it. Her eyes burned with tears and she struggled to keep them from falling. Had their time run out? Years of running led to what? The end? Obviously she couldn’t accept that, but she didn’t know how to fight it either. After years of being several steps ahead of the men after them, she was no longer in control of the situation. The realization slammed her hard and her fear erupted in a stifled sob.

  “Emma?”

  She turned to find Will next to her. His brown eyes were dark with worry and he hesitated before resting his hand on her arm. “What’s wrong?”

  “Just leave me alone, Will. Please,” she choked out, her words muffled as she covered her face with her hands in humiliation.

  “Maybe I can help,” Will whispered in her ear and his hand moved to her back, stroking slowly, in a soothing circular motion.

  “No one can help me.” Saying the words aloud made it even more real, pushing her to the brink of panic. “Please, just go away. Please.”

  She sensed his indecision before he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. Her first impulse was to resist, but as soon as her cheek rested on his chest, her eyes closed and she sank into him. In spite of her anguish, she marveled how right he felt, how perfectly she fit in his embrace. She felt safe, and that bewildered her even more. His hand reached up and stroked her hair while the other encircled her waist and the feelings of safety gave way to a rush of protection. Will made her feel safe. The thought simultaneously thrilled and terrified her; thrilled someone was capable of making her feel protected, yet terrified that Will was the one to provide it.

  Will was unreliable.

  But, there was something else. Feelings buried long ago now erupted, catching her by surprise. Every nerve ending tingled with anticipation, of what she wasn’t sure. Will’s embrace awakened the emotional part of her she had ignored for so many years, the need to be held, to be touched, to be loved. She’d been alone for so long she had forgotten this ache for something more. Succumbing to his embrace filled her with a sense of belonging, a feeling even more dangerous than the perception of protection.

  Emma pressed her hands against Will’s chest with the intent to push him away, but when she looked up at him, she froze. His eyes studied her face with a gentleness that caught her off guard. Arrogance, even a snide remark, she expected, but not gentleness. Their eyes locked and her stomach dropped. She knew it was ridiculous, she hardly knew him and what she did know was unflattering, yet there it was anyway. This need for him.

  Without breaking his gaze, he moved his hand to her cheek. She sucked in her breath at the contact. He leaned closer and hesitated, his mouth inches away from hers.

  Her insides fluttered and she waited.

  Will released a heavy sigh and closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against hers. His heart beat rapidly under the palm of her hand and she stood in his arms confused. He leaned back up, his smartass grin spreading across his face. “Who knew you’d be so easy?”

  Emma gasped and reached up her hand to slap him. His hand stopped hers in midair and he laughed.

  “You’re so predictable.”

  She grunted in frustration and jerked her hand from his as she stormed off toward the truck. Against her better judgment, she looked back over her shoulder only to see him walk toward the main road.

  * * *

  Will resisted the urge to run. There was no way in hell he could let Emma see how much she affected him. He walked about twenty feet down the gravel road and turned around to see her leaning against the tailgate, clearly upset.

  Why did it bother him so much to hurt her? She was nothing to him. A job. Nothing more, nothing less. Women came and went in his life. There was never any hint of permanency and definitely no thoughts of a relationship. But even more disturbing was the sentimental bullshit that still burned in his gut. Last night he chalked it up to temporary insanity. But this morning, here it was. It was bad enough he couldn’t resist touching her last night and resorted to sleeping under a tree, but when he heard her crying his impulse was to go comfort her. What the hell? Holding her in his arms was nearly his undoing, but thankfully, some deep-seated self-preservation instinct stopped him from kissing her just in time. Even if he hurt her in the process.

  The sooner he got rid of Emma, the sooner his life got back to normal.

  * * *

  Emma leaned over the tailgate trying to calm down. The truck bed was damp and greasy under her hands, matching the slimy feeling that coated her soul. How did she let that happen? Memories of a night from long ago replayed in her head, memories she’d tried so hard to shove to the recesses of her mind. She groaned and shoved herself away from the truck, irritated she let herself get distracted by him. She laughed wryly. Distracted. That didn’t quite cover it. Her son’s life was being threatened and she was about to make out with Will. Riddled with self-disgust, she fought to focus on coming up with a plan to survive.

  It’s going to be okay Mommy. Jake’s voice said in her head.

  Emma jerked around. Jake’s head popped up in the back window. She gaped at him, numb with shock. How could he do that?

  Things are changing.

  “How do you do that?” She had forgotten that he had spoken in her mind in the restroom the night before. Visions of the man she shot, the surprise on his face and the blood smeared on the wall, snuck into her mind, startling her with their vividness.

  You had no choice.

  The scene replayed in her head. In the stark daylight, she was no longer so sure. “That’s what Will said,” she whispered.

  He’s right.

  She shook her head in frustration. “Stop talking in my head. You’re freaking me out!” On top of everything else, it was too much.

  “It’s okay, Mommy. I’ll stop.”

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nbsp; Emma was on the verge of losing it, a feeling she was not acquainted with, and it terrified her. Everything grew fuzzy. As she fought to regain control, she realized Jake had gotten out of the truck and stood next to her.

  He reached out and put his hand into hers. “I’m sorry, Mommy.” His eyes were glassy with unshed tears and he looked so devastated Emma reached out and pulled him into a hug.

  “Oh baby, it’s okay.” Her love for him washed through her. Emma sat down on the ground and pulled him onto her lap, resting her cheek on his head. She held him tight, breathing in his little-boy scent of baby shampoo and sweat. This was what was important, the little boy in her arms. “When did you find out you could do that, talk in my head?” she asked.

  “Yesterday, in the bathroom.”

  “But how did you know?”

  He leaned back, looking confused by her question. He shrugged. “I don’t know. I just did.”

  Was he telling her the truth? Part of her didn’t think so and she wondered if he would ever tell her everything he knew.

  Only what you need to know.

  He was right. Things were changing.

  * * *

  Will stopped and turned around after he walked about a quarter mile. He sure as hell couldn’t walk away from Emma, so there was no point in going any further. His irritation settled into a palpable level and he developed a plan. Get back to the truck, drive to South Dakota and drop Emma and Jake off as soon as he possibly could.

  By the time he got back to the truck, he convinced himself he overreacted and that Emma meant nothing. That is, until he saw her sitting on the ground, holding Jake on her lap. The way she looked at Jake reminded him of her softness the night before.

  Son of a bitch.

  Will walked up and cleared his throat. “Well, now that everyone’s up, we should take off before a farmer shows up and prosecutes us for trespassing.” He climbed up into the bed, wadded up the blanket and stuffed it in the box. Jake glanced at Will over his shoulder, his mouth pinched in a brooding pout.

 

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