A Need to Protect

by Diane Benefiel

  She took the envelope reluctantly, and with a wink he started back down the steps.

  “You are wasting your time,” Emma called after him. “I won’t sell.”

  “You read the offer. I’ll be in touch.” He waved, then climbed into his dusty sedan and drove away.

  Scowling, Emma pulled open the screen door. “What an unpleasant man. But thanks for having my back, Dory.”

  Dory grinned before preceding Emma into the office. “No problem, girl. That’s what friends are for.”

  ***

  Tramping along the path that followed the lake, Emma gave up trying to stifle her internal debate. The effort wasn’t doing her any good and the thoughts continued to buzz around her brain like angry bees. She was on her way to Brad’s. But was it really a good idea after what he’d said that morning? She’d been thinking it over all day, at least when obnoxious developers weren’t hounding her. Not that her thoughts were on him because he’d asked her to think about it. She just couldn’t help it. How many times in a woman’s life did a compelling, magnetic man tell her he had been waiting all of his life for her?

  She knew though, that those feelings would go away once he heard the full story, once he really knew who she was and what she came from. She’d tell him everything. It would be like ripping off a particularly sticky bandage—painful, but once done the agony would be over. Brad would realize she was too mixed up, and then she would be free to get along with her life without the emotional maelstrom he brought out in her. She refused to think how empty that life would be without him in it. She would survive it, just as she had survived before.

  A flash of blue speared across the path in front of her, and Emma followed its flight through the trees. A western scrub jay. She’d checked out a bird book from the local library and was pleased that she could identify the species. But where the beauty of the mountain environment usually soothed her, this afternoon her stomach knotted with nerves.

  Following the curve of the shore, she hiked until reaching the slope that led toward the log house. The large front windows caught the reflection of the granite mountain peaks across the valley. She almost hoped he would be busy or not at home so she could put off their conversation, but she resolutely crossed the wide porch and knocked on the door.

  Emma’s already unhappy stomach sank to her toes when she heard a feminine voice trill, “I’ll get it!” from inside. He had a visitor, a female visitor. This definitely wasn’t a good time.

  Already backing across the porch, Emma checked her movement when the door swung open. The woman looked to be in her mid-forties, quite trim with short blond hair in a stylish cap and choppy bangs above bright blue eyes.

  “Hi!” She smiled broadly and Emma realized she was looking at an older version of Maddy. This was Brad’s mother and her guess of mid-forties was probably short by a decade. Her stomach stayed in her toes.

  “Um, hi. I just…” Emma paused. What was she going to say? I was coming by to tell your son my life story? That when he kisses me my mind simply melts and I’d like him to do it again? “I just dropped by, but Brad has company so I’ll come back later.”

  “Mom?” His mother opened the door wider and Brad appeared. “Emmaline.” His rich voice, the grin that flashed suddenly when he caught sight of her, the warmth in those forest-green eyes all combined to make Emma want to jump him right there in front of his mother. Pushing those crazy thoughts out of her head she took another hasty step in retreat.

  “Sorry. I didn’t know you had company. I’ll talk to you later.” She had almost made it to the steps.

  Her eyes sparkling with curiosity and humor, Brad’s mother said, “Nonsense, you come right on in. I’m Trish Gallagher.”

  Brad stepped out and took Emma’s hand. “Mom, this is Emmaline Kincaid. Emmaline, my mom.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Gallagher. It’s Emma, and I really don’t want to intrude.” She tried to free her hand but Brad wasn’t giving it up.

  “It’s no intrusion. Bradley, you bring that girl into the kitchen.” She beamed at Emma. “Maddy and I decided Brad needed company this evening and we descended on him. We brought everything we needed for a nice dinner of barbecued chicken. We even brought paper plates, since Lord knows this boy needs to get some real ones.”

  The woman was a force to be reckoned with. Before Emma could make her escape, she was ushered into the kitchen with Trish telling her how Brad was about to fire up the barbecue and if Emma would slice the watermelon, dinner would be ready in twenty minutes. Standing at the counter, Maddy offered a quick smile while she chopped tomatoes and dumped them into a big bowl of mixed salad greens.

  “It’s no use arguing,” Brad tugged her close to whisper in her ear as his mother opened the refrigerator. “She’ll simply roll over you and you’ll end up staying anyway. Relax and enjoy.” He gave her hand a squeeze before he released her and walked out the kitchen door, presumably to fire up the barbecue.

  In short order, the kitchen table was set using paper plates and plastic cups. Trish set down a platter of barbecued chicken and bowls of salad and country-fried potatoes were added. Emma brought over the watermelon and they all sat down.

  “Wow,” Emma said, “this is quite a meal, Mrs. Gallagher.”

  “You call me Trish, honey. I know half the time Brad just has a bowl of cereal for dinner so every now and then his sisters and I make him a meal.”

  “Not that isn’t appreciated, Mom, but I can cook when I want to.” Brad leaned back in his chair, his thigh brushing Emma’s.

  “I know you can, sweetie. But I also know it’s hard to go to the trouble for only one person.” She eyed Emma speculatively.

  She shifted uneasily under the scrutiny and was relieved when Maddy leaned forward, pointing at Emma with her fork. “Did that guy, Singleton, from the development company go by your place today?”

  “He did and I told him I wouldn’t sell. He was obnoxious.”

  “What do you mean?” Brad’s voice had an edge.

  Emma shrugged. “He seemed to think if he told me how wonderful his offer was with enough force, I’d sign on the dotted line.”

  “What kind of force?”

  Emma decided she wouldn’t want to be opposite Brad in an interrogation. He had a directness of purpose that was hard to deny.

  “It was nothing, really. He crowded me some, tried to keep me from going into the cabin. Dory walked up with a hammer in her hand. That helped him rethink his attitude.”

  “Emmaline, if he comes by your place again, I want you to call me. Make sure you have your cell phone with you when you’re out of the office.”

  “If I thought he was really a threat, Brad, I would have called right away. He was obnoxious, but not dangerous.”

  “You don’t know that.” Brad’s voice brooked no argument. “Someone hired Jackson to torch your place. That certainly could have had much worse consequences than just the garage burning. Next time you see Singleton, I want you to call me. I know who he is. He’s at the Bluebird Inn so I’ll pay him a visit regardless.”

  Uncomfortable with Maddy and Trish as an avid audience, Emma sighed. “Okay, but don’t get mad for being called out over nothing. He left me with an envelope that he said held some terrific offer.” Emma shrugged then dipped a potato wedge in ketchup. “I haven’t opened it.”

  “Good for you!” Maddy piped in. “I saw him with the owner of the property across the street from the café this morning. I sure hope she doesn’t sell.”

  “Won’t matter if she wants to sell if the city council doesn’t change the zoning,” Brad said.

  “What do you mean?” Emma asked.

  “Just that.” He took a sip of beer from a long-necked bottle. “The city council will have to vote to change the zoning for anything higher than two stories in town. This outfit wants to go big. And your property? It would have to be zoned for the type of commercial development they want and I’m not sure the votes are there on the council.”

&nb
sp; Maddy snickered. “Good. That means Mean Marla hasn’t gotten her talons into all of them.”

  “Haven’t you gotten over calling her Mean Marla?” Brad asked. “You’re not in high school any more. Besides she’s always been nice to you.”

  “A lot you know. She only acted nice to me because she wanted to get in your pants.”

  Emma smothered a laugh when Brad cleared his throat.

  “Maddy!” Trish looked more amused than horrified.

  “It’s true. Once she decided Brad wasn’t going to play house with her the meanness came out.” Maddy reached for the platter of watermelon as she shot her brother a grin. “Just reporting how I see it, champ.”

  Brad shook his head before leaning across the table for the watermelon. He raised his eyebrows and at Emma’s nod, set a slice on her plate before selecting one for himself.

  She sat back, sipping her iced tea while listening to Brad, his mother, and sister. She didn’t feel excluded; she couldn’t because one or the other of them would ask her opinion or try to get her to take sides in a discussion. She loved their give and take, the ease they showed enjoying the company of people they were completely comfortable with. Meals like this were not a part of her history. She’d often fantasized about having a family and living in a big noisy house but had never known it in reality.

  She caught Brad’s eyes on her, his dark gaze watchful. She looked away. She didn’t want him to see too deeply and tried to focus on the conversation.

  “You’ll come, won’t you, Emma?” Maddy asked her.

  Emma sat up abruptly having lost the thread of the conversation. “I’m sorry. I guess my mind wandered. Come where?”

  Maddy cast an arched look between Brad and Emma as if thinking that’s where Emma’s mind had wandered.

  Brad laughed and draped an arm over the back of her chair. “My busybody sister wants to know if you’ll come to the town Founders’ Day picnic on Saturday. It’s at the park by the lake. There will be screaming kids, teenagers making out behind the bleachers and the usual deadly games. We hold it in the late spring before the summer people come to try and keep it local.”

  “I wouldn’t want to miss screaming kids, but I’m not exactly local,” Emma said.

  “You are now, and don’t listen to Brad. The kids have a great time. There’ll be a softball game and the booths are a lot of fun.” Maddy laughed. “Especially Dunk a Hunk. All the ladies love that one.”

  Brad shifted uncomfortably, causing Emma to smile. “Dunk a Hunk?”

  When Brad drummed his fingers on the table and refused to answer, Maddy snickered. “We get a couple of the town hunks to sit in a dunk booth. Even get some who are not so hunky. Contestants pay for the opportunity to throw a ball and try to dunk them.”

  “Sounds fun,” Emma said.

  “Oh, it is. Especially since tradition has it that the hunk gets to kiss the first woman who dunks him. Brad always has a line of women when he’s the hunk.”

  Brad tipped back his head to study the ceiling, making Maddy giggle. She obviously enjoyed teasing her brother.

  “It’s a fund-raiser for the police department,” he growled. “I’m not doing it this year.”

  “Oh, yes, you are,” Maddy proclaimed. “Hunks around here are few and far between, and you’re the best we have.”

  “Cut that out. I don’t know whose stupid idea it was to start that anyway.”

  Amused by Brad’s obvious discomfort, Emma patted his hand in consolation. “You’re very brave to make such sacrifices in the name of charity.”

  He skewered her with a look. “I’ll do it if you go.”

  “Well, I—” Emma was startled by his sudden intensity.

  “And you have to try to dunk him!” Maddy cut in.

  “Well, now that it’s settled let’s get this dinner cleaned up and we’ll leave you two alone.” Trish rose and carried her dishes to the counter.

  “Wait, I didn’t agree to anything,” Emma said in alarm.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Brad muttered beside her. “Both of them always assume you’ll fall in with whatever they want you to do. Standing up to them is like trying to stop the tide. They’ll just wear you down until you agree just to get them to leave you alone.”

  Maddy sailed regally from the table with her plate in one hand and the platter of leftover chicken in the other. “I heard that and I don’t know what you’re talking about. The picnic starts at noon, Emma. You can come early and help set up.”

  Which, Emma thought as she brought her load from the table, proved Brad was right. It looked like she was going to the Hangman’s Loss Founders’ Day picnic.

  They quickly put the kitchen to rights, the refrigerator filled with leftovers, and soon Maddy and Trish were saying good-bye. Emma helped carry a basket with cooking utensils down a hallway to the back of the house where a door opened to the outside. She followed Trish outside and saw what couldn’t be seen from the front. A three-car garage formed an extension from the back of the house and interlocking pavers created a parking area lined on one side by tall pines.

  Trish opened the back of a smart SUV as Brad and Maddy joined them with the rest of the things she was taking home.

  After stowing all of the bags and baskets, Trish surprised Emma with a quick hug. “I’m so glad I finally got to meet you, Emma dear. You’ll sit with us at the picnic. It’ll be fun.”

  She turned to her son. Emma’s throat tightened when Brad enveloped his mother in a hug, laying his cheek on top of her head. They stood like that for a long moment before he released her, then leaned down to give her a kiss. “Thanks for dinner, Mom. You’re the best.”

  “You bet I am, handsome, and don’t you forget it.”

  Maddy reached up and kissed her brother on the cheek, gave Emma a quick hug. “I’ll sign you up for the softball game, Emma.” She climbed into the passenger seat while her mother opened the driver’s door.

  In a moment, tires were crunching on gravel and the car disappeared down the driveway. In the sudden quiet, Emma glanced uncertainly at Brad. “Wow, they’re quite a pair.” She shifted restlessly, then said, “I guess I’ll head back now.” She hadn’t accomplished what she’d set out to do, but she couldn’t bring it up now. He was relaxed and content; she could see that clearly. He’d enjoyed the evening with his mother and sister and she didn’t want to be the cause of bringing down his mood. And she was a coward. Without Trish and Maddy to act as buffers, being with him in the gathering dusk was simply too intimate.

  Brad raised a hand to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “Afraid to be alone with me, Emmaline?”

  “You bet. ’Bye.” She took a step toward the corner of the garage, guessing she could find the trail back to her cabins somewhere around there.

  Brad laughed, reaching out to take her hand. “This way.”

  He guided her back through the house, grabbed two jackets from hooks next to the door, and led her out onto the veranda. But instead of releasing her so she could go down the steps and home, he tugged her over to stand in front of the porch swing. After putting on his own, he let go of her hand to drape a jacket over her shoulders, and when she had put her arms through the sleeves he lifted her hair over the collar, running his hand down its length. “Sit with me.”

  Chapter Seven

  “No.” Emma put up her hands when he reached for her. When he touched her she had trouble forming a coherent thought. She also knew sitting on a swing as the sky deepened to night would not be conducive to telling him they couldn’t be together.

  “Can’t you feel it, Emmaline?” Brad stepped back, and she knew he would respect her boundaries, but distance didn’t lessen the intensity emanating from him. “Can’t you feel how good we are together? You and me, having dinner with Mom and Maddy? It felt right. Like you belong with me, with all of us.”

  The images of family, of people who could love her for who she was, stirred her deepest yearnings. But there was no way her life would end up like that fan
tasy. She stiffened her spine and spoke deliberately, careful to make each word right so he would understand. “It’s an illusion, Brad. I sat with you and your mother and sister today at the kitchen table and, yes, it was enjoyable, but it’s an illusion. I’m a fraud.”

  “What do you mean, a fraud?” Annoyance tinged his voice. “I see a woman who had a very rough childhood but who, through grit and determination, has made herself into something amazing. When I look I see you, and you’re as genuine as they come.”

  “No. You’re seeing what you want to see. You don’t know how it was when I was a child; my grandfather didn’t even know.” She paused. “Do you know how many times I’ve sat and had a family dinner?”

  He gave her a frustrated look. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  She ignored his question. “Zero. I never had family dinners because I never had a family. My biological father meant no more to my mother than a brief affair. He left the second my mom found out she was pregnant.” The words tumbled out in a rush. She was ripping off the bandage. “Mom couldn’t get along with her parents so she took off for Los Angeles, where I was born. So it was just me and her.”

  “You and your mom were still a family, Emmaline.”

  “No, we weren’t. At least not like your family. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t feel like I was the adult. I was always the one that had to make the tough decisions.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He said it calmly while Emma could again feel the knots tighten in her stomach because she knew she had to tell him about things that would make him realize the truth. The real Emma wasn’t someone he could ever have deep feelings for. He would never look at her the same way again.

  “We lived in motels, Brad. Mom waited tables when she was clean but when she fell into it again, when the temptation of whatever drug she’d been on got too strong, she couldn’t work and we’d get kicked out. Sometimes we went to a shelter, if they would take us. A couple of times we slept on the street.” She looked directly in Brad’s eyes, almost daring him to offer sympathy. “It’s so far away from the way you were raised we might have been on the moon.”