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Come Rain or Shine (Shine On Series, Book Three)

Page 12

by Allison J. Jewell

Emmie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “Yeah that’s clear. Don’t you worry, Silas. I’ll sow some oats before I make an attempt at your hand again.”

  “Sowing oats . . . you really are a ridiculous woman. You know that? This isn’t about me not wanting to get you in the sack. There’s more to living than sowing oats. You’ve never done half the things you should. This is probably the first time you’ve been out of Kentucky,” he whispered angrily.

  Her frown told him he was right about that one.

  “Oh, don’t you go making excuses, Silas. You know we could travel together. You’re just afraid you’re corrupting me or that I won’t know what I’m doing. I’m not sure which one yet, but you’ve always been full of excuses. ‘Oh, it’s not the right time. Emmie, you’ve had too much to drink. No, doll, your ribs are broken.’ You’ve always been full of some excuse not to see my flour sacks. Excuses, excuses. Did you make excuses for that redheaded floozy when you were with her or did you oblige her quickly?” Emmie knew she should stop talking but couldn’t seem to make her lips stay closed.

  At first she thought Silas may laugh but when he composed himself he ground his teeth together. He leaned his head back and groaned, “Fine.”

  He picked her up and tossed over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She screamed in surprise, “Silas McDowell.” The last time he had carried her like this was when he found her in the blind pig.

  Jemma stood and started to walk over to them, a couple of guys put their arms out to stop her. “Keep your hands off my sister,” he grumbled as he walked by them.

  “Silas what on earth—” Jemma said, but he paid her no mind as he carried Emmie down the narrow hall that led to his bedroom.

  He leaned over and flipped her onto the bed. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him standing over her. His hair was no longer neatly slicked back. It had fallen forward and kept covering his right eye. He pushed it out of the way. Without a word he took of his suit coat and threw it on the floor. Then he slid his arms out of his shoulder holster. The leather and metal made a loud thump as it landed on the table next to the bed. He never took his eyes from her as he worked the buttons of his shirt with more force than necessary.

  “Are you mad at me or your shirt?” she tried to tease.

  “You,” he said, tossing it to the ground. With one arm he reached down and unbuckled his pants. They fell low on his hips.

  “What in the world are you doing, Silas?” she asked, crawling backward on the bed.

  “I’m putting an end to this argument,” he said.

  “What?” Emmie’s voice caught in her throat as he reached for her hips and pulled her closer to the end of the bed. Silas’s hand slid up her thigh and made quick work of undoing her stockings.

  “Maybe we should talk about this for a second,” Emmie said, pulling her dress back down.

  “Oh, sweetheart, you’ve talked enough for both of us tonight,” he said as he pulled her dress up to her waist. Silas mumbled under his breath and leaned in closer to her. All she could hear was something about Indians and Bo Johnson.

  “This isn’t what I meant. This isn’t how I want it to be,” she whispered.

  “You coulda fooled me. You’ve been out there telling me I don’t want to be with you like this. Telling me I’ve been making excuses. I’m done with it. You’re wrong, Emmie. I’ve wanted to be with you like this since the day I saw you coming up out of the pool at Ava’s house. I’ve thought about it every day since. Each time you touch me,” he grabbed her hand and put it on his bare chest for emphasis, “I think about it. But I’ve worked really hard to be patient with you. Patient for you. You deserve more. Like a good whiskey, you’ve always been worth waiting for. But you don’t appreciate that. So I’m done. We’ll do it and figure out the rest as it comes.”

  Emmie’s head was swimming. “Then why did you say you wanted me to have more experience? That’s all I wanted to know. Are you ashamed of me? Do you think I’m just some backward girl from Kentucky?”

  Silas put his face on her bare leg and exhaled a long audible sigh. “Damn it, Emmie. Experience isn’t just about getting naked with somebody.” He looked up, saw her flour-sack underwear and couldn’t help but laugh. “I knew when I saw Trick flipping you around out there on the dance floor you were wearing these flour sacks.” He ran a finger over the Gold Medal emblem.

  “Glad you are amused by my underclothes right now,” she said, annoyed.

  “You’re wearing them because they remind you of home aren’t you?” he asked, looking up at her sincerely.

  She nodded. “Why are we talking about my flour sacks?”

  “Because, Emmie,” he crawled up and sat resting on his knees, so his legs straddled hers, “can’t you see? Your flour sacks are the perfect example of what this is about. One. I’ve never been with a girl that I knew what kind of underclothes she had on. Hell, I never even cared if she had on any at all. Two. I know you. I know you made those yourself. That says so much about you. You are resourceful and skilled. Three. The sight of you lying there in them now is almost more than I can take. You are beautiful. Four. Those are mine. I claimed them and you as my little Gold Medal gal, remember when I told you that? I still mean it. The thought of anyone else seeing them makes me crazy. Especially when you bring Bo into it. Five. I know why you wear them. I knew before I even saw the little peek of them when you were dancing with Trick that you’d be wearing them. It’s the same reason I packed that apple pie moonshine in Louisville at the Halloween party. You love the little reminders of home.

  “Just the pure and simple fact that I know all of this about your ridiculous little flour-sack underwear should tell you how different you are to me. That’s why, even though I want to, I’ve not taken you to bed yet. But I’ll do it Emmie. If this is what it’s going to take for you to know that I love you. To know that I don’t want anyone else with you, I’ll do it and enjoy it.” His eyes were smoldering as he added the last phrase. She felt herself melt under his gaze. A tear slid down her cheek. Only Silas McDowell could turn plain old flour-sack underwear into something so thoughtful.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Silas reached forward and wiped her tear with his thumb.

  “I cannot imagine that I’d ever want to experience life with anyone else,” Emmie said quietly.

  He rubbed his jaw for a second before he spoke. “It’s not who you might experience. That’s what you’ve taken the wrong way. It’s what you need to experience.”

  “Stop speaking in riddles, Silas. There’s nothing I want to experience without you. You’ve seen me at my best and my worst. I’ve seen you the same way. Don’t shove me out of your life because you’re afraid of my questions. Or afraid I’ll try to get in your business. I’ll do my best to stay uninvolved but I can’t make any promises. I want to help you, if I can.” Emmie leaned forward and rested her weight on her elbows.

  “There will always be parts I can’t share with you. You know that,” he said with a sad look in his eyes. “It’s for your own safety. I can’t let it happen again.”

  It. They both knew the it he was referring to. The kidnapping. The cabin. The murder.

  “Silas, bad things happen sometimes. You cannot always stop things from happening,” she said, touching his face. “And I’m sorry. I love being close to you like this, but this isn’t what I was asking for earlier.”

  He arched an eyebrow and started to repeat her phrase about Bo. “You told me you wanted—”

  “Yeah, I was a fool. I was mad and wanted to hit you below the belt because you’d hurt my feelings earlier. I know what it takes to get a rise out of you.” She pushed his shoulder. “I want to sleep with you every night. I want to wake up in the morning with you by my side. I want to kiss you when you leave for work. I want to help you think though cases and problems with revenuers. I want to be your partner.”

  “I thought you wanted to go to school. I thought you wanted to be a teacher. Because you can�
�t have both,” he said, looking down at her.

  Emmie frowned. She’d never thought of that. Of course she couldn’t go to school and be a teacher if she married Silas or even got engaged. No one would hire her. It was against the rules.

  “I’ve called or written nearly every school district between here and Tennessee. No one takes married teachers. I guess they think you’ll corrupt the children’s minds with your vast womanly knowledge,” Silas said, before rolling off her. He stepped away from the bed and grabbed a cigarette.

  “So you’re saying I’d have to choose to be with you or to become a teacher. I can’t have my cake and eat it too,” Emmie muttered to herself.

  “I’m not saying that. I don’t want you to choose. I’d never ask you to choose,” he said, taking a deep draw from the cigarette.

  Staring up at the ceiling, she heard him move around the room. Her mind sobered a little as she contemplated the problems of the reality Silas had brought to her attention. How had she not already thought of this? She felt an envelope smack her square in the stomach. It caught her off guard. She sat up as she moved the thick paper through her fingers.

  “Last surprise of today. Paperwork for the fall semester next year. I filled out some of it for you, but you’ll have to do the rest of it. I didn’t know what classes you’ve already taken in school that count for the university. There’s paperwork in there for schools in Bowling Green, Louisville, Richmond, Lexington, and just outside Chicago. You can choose where you want to go; getting you into college isn’t the problem. I wanted to have all the forms ready for you because, see, I believe in you. That’s the last surprise for today. You are the kindest most caring person I’ve ever known. You’re going to make a wonderful teacher. I’ve never seen you so happy as you were when you were helping Max. I’m not going to take that away from you. Ever. When you’ve lived your life and had some of the experiences you’ve been aiming for all of these years, then I’ll be here waiting for you. I’m not going to give you a diamond ring and a promise that will take away all of your dreams.”

  Emmie had absolutely no idea what to say. He was right. He was right about all of it. What he was offering her was kinder than a proposal. He was saying he’d wait for her to experience her goals. Her heart sank. How could she have been so stupid to think he was talking about sex? She felt like a fool.

  “I honestly don’t know what to say,” she said, looking up at him.

  “I agree with what you said earlier. Come rain or shine, we’ve been having a lot of rain lately. I want to be there with you through the shine.” He thumped the thick envelope. “Your shine isn’t from some jar filled with amber colored liquid, Emmie, this is your shine.”

  Emmie nodded. “But Silas, you are my shine too. I love being with you.”

  He exhaled a long steady stream of white smoke as he spoke, “I’m not giving you that choice. Not yet.”

  She appreciated what he was trying to do, but her heart hurt at his words. Is this what she wanted? That college diploma was just a piece of paper. Silas was her heart. There had to be a way to have both. She just needed time to think about it.

  “I love you, Silas.” She pushed forward and pulled his mouth to hers.

  When the door squeaked slowly open, neither of them made a move. She didn’t even notice. He was sure it was Trick checking to be sure they were both okay.

  “Silas, pull your pants up, boyo. Emma, right yourself. Meet me in the living room in two minutes.” There was no mistaking the authority in his voice even with the Irish lilt.

  Silas swore as he pulled away from Emmie and watched his father close the door behind him. She had never been so embarrassed. Her dress skirt was still up to her waist. Her stockings were on the floor. Silas’s pants hung at his hips as he puffed a cigarette. She knew it looked bad. Silas was shrugging back into his shirt. At least when Gabe had busted in on them in the past it was just Gabe. This was his father. What would he think of her? As she opened her mouth to ask him, she thought of a more important question. Why was his father here in the middle of the night?

  Silas pulled her up the bed. She slipped on her stockings and came out of the room. They both looked as guilty as sin as they entered the living room. Emmie wasn’t sure it was possible for her face to turn a deeper shade of red.

  “Pop, it wasn’t what it looked like,” Silas said quietly.

  The older man gave a grunt that didn’t sound so different from the sound Walter had made earlier on the telephone. “I’m your father not your mother. I’ve already figured out you’re not perfect. I won’t tell her though. I want her to like this girl; she’s good for you. I’m not here to dig into your private affairs. You could work to set a better example for your sister though.”

  Emmie decided in that moment it would have been better for the older man to shout at them. He was disappointed, not angry, and that was always worse.

  Silas only nodded in agreement.

  “We’ve just heard there’s been another fire,” his father said, looking his son square in the eyes.

  “Where was this one?” Silas asked quickly.

  “Smith’s Grove.”

  Someone swore. Emmie turned and saw it was Trick. She hadn’t noticed he was in the room. Apparently Jemma had already gone to bed and the others had left when she and Silas disappeared into the bedroom.

  “What’s going on in Smith’s Grove?” she couldn’t help but ask. The whiskey was starting to wear off, but she was still experiencing some of the lingering effects that led to her bravery.

  The older man looked at Silas. Clearly it was his call as to whether or not he answered that one. Silas didn’t look like he was interested in her questions right now.

  He turned to his father. “Did it go all the way to the ground?”

  “No, one of the workers caught this one early. It was only the front,” he said.

  “Silas, was it the restaurant with the speakeasy?” Emmie asked.

  “Not now, Emmie,” he said, putting a hand up to dismiss her question.

  She bit her lip in an attempt to keep quiet.

  “What do you need us to do? I’ll go back. Remember I’ve got that connection with the police in Louisville. I can shine up my buttons again,” Trick said with a grin.

  “Not yet, boyo. Let’s give it a few more days. I don’t think anything is a problem yet. Let’s see if the police do their job and research these fires.”

  Emmie’s insides were burning. She was dying to ask questions but she knew she was lucky they’d said this much in front of her. It was probably better to slink against the wall quietly and let them forget she was in the room.

  “Do you want to stay here tonight, Pop, or are you driving home?” Silas asked.

  “I’ll stay here. I had some business that kept me at the office too late tonight. I’m getting too old for this.” The old man laughed as he walked toward the only spare bedroom. “Oh, and Emmie sleeps with Jemma. I might not be your ma, but I still can’t let you do that with your sister in the house.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  The house had just gone still when she heard the bedroom door creak open. Emmie popped open an eye to find Silas in front of her. He put a finger over her lips to indicate she should be quiet. He scooped her up from the bed and carried her quietly back to his bedroom. He laid Emmie on the bed gently and spooned in behind her, wrapping his arms around her middle.

  “But your father . . .?” she asked anxiously.

  “He sleeps like a bear,” he whispered.

  She turned in his arms to face him. “What if . . .?”

  He cut her off with a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Shh . . . it’s fine. This is my house. Just let me hold you for a little while. You’re not the only one that’s missed this, Emmie.”

  Emmie exhaled and let herself relax in his arms. She didn’t sleep much that night, but she did feel peace. She knew when they awoke there would be so much between them to discuss: marriage, fires, secrets. But just for tonight she
let herself enjoy the feeling that nothing separated them except for the thin material of her chemise.

  She awoke the next morning, alone in Jemma’s bed, to the sound of voices in the living room. It was probably his family. The light spilling in through the window told her she had slept too late. She quickly dressed, washed the remnants of last night’s makeup off her face, and went to the living room.

  She froze in her tracks as she saw who was in the living room. Seeing Gabe wasn’t a huge surprise but seeing his mother waiting in a tall armchair about made her heart leap out of her chest. She hadn’t talked to this woman since their coffee in Louisville when she’d learned the identity of her real father.

  Emmie did her best to smile as the older woman looked across the room and made eye contact with her. Her steely gaze made Emmie want to look down at the ground, but she forced herself to keep her chin up. She didn’t dislike Mrs. Del Grandé, she just felt uneasy in her presence. Gabe walked over to her.

  “Are you well this morning? Silas said he took you to the Irish joint last night,” Gabe asked.

  “I’m great. Thank you. Hello,” she said and nodded to both Gabe and his mother. Silas came across the room and put his hand on the small of her back. He looked like he wanted to speak but kept his mouth clamped in a firm line. An awkward moment of silence passed before anyone spoke.

  It was Gabe who uttered the first explanation. “Mother and I were heading out for a walk this morning and thought you might like to join us.”

  “Oh, well. How nice of you to think of me,” Emmie started. She had no idea what this was about when she felt Silas rubbing her back. Had he planned this?

  She turned to face him and whispered quickly, “Is this another surprise of your doing?”

  “No, this one was a surprise for me too,” he said, looking back at Gabe.

  Emmie turned around to face her brother and stepmother. Brother and stepmother, those two words felt foreign to her. “Silas was just getting ready to drive me home. I also have an incredible amount of work left to do on Ava’s wedding gown.”

 

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