She grew warm under his scrutiny and adjusted her skirts around her legs.
“Did you find something up there?”
“No.” The word, too emphatic, popped out of her mouth before she could stop it. But at least that question she could answer honestly. “No, I just—I just wondered if you’d ever looked through his things and found some kind of explanation of what he’d done while he was away,” she finished lamely.
“Don’t reckon there’s much to find. He was just a wanderer who didn’t much want to be tied down to family and work.”
She nodded, not wanting to agree verbally. It would be too much like a lie, and she’d had her fill of dishonesty. She decided to turn in for the night. As much as she’d enjoyed her talk with Cade tonight, it didn’t take a genius to recognize the suspicion that lingered on his face. And she’d just as soon hit the hay before he started asking questions.
Seven
“I found another one!” Adam called from behind the big oak in the backyard.
“Good job, Adam. There are only two more marbles.” She wiped a dirt-coated hand across her sweaty forehead and caught Adam’s look. “Silly me,” she called. “I mean only two more nuggets of treasure.”
She grabbed a weed and gave it a mighty yank, feeling satisfied when the whole thing came up, roots and all. The spring sun beat down on her dark hair with such intensity, she wished she hadn’t left her bonnet on the front porch.
Adam dug through the dirt a stone’s throw away. Though she’d wanted to hide buttons for treasure, Adam had wanted to use his marbles. She hoped they didn’t lose any of them. He carried them everywhere he went; you could hear them jangling together in his pockets as he walked.
“My aggie!” Adam called.
Emily saw him hold his favorite marble up in the air, wearing a proud look on his face.
“You mean your treasure,” she corrected, relieved that he’d found his favorite. “One more to go!”
He attacked the dirt with vigor, and she moved down the row of tomato plants, plucking another weed.
She’d reached the end of the row when Adam jumped up. “I found it, Emily!”
The marbles that had sat in his lap spilled to the ground. He reached down to collect them and ran to her. “Will you hide ’em again?”
“Tell you what, if you fetch me my bonnet, I promise to hide your treasure again after supper.”
“Yippee!”
“It’s on the front porch.”
He ran toward the house, his marbles cupped in his hands. Emily watched him go until he rounded the corner, then, turned back to her work.
She’d only uprooted two more weeds when she heard his cry.
“Emily!”
She jumped up from the dirt, her legs faltering from having been bent so long. She could hear him crying, and though it didn’t sound like an emergency cry, it sounded serious.
She came around the front corner of the house to see him lying facedown on the wooden steps, still, except for the heaving of his torso. Had he twisted his ankle on the steps? Hit his head on the porch rail?
Please, Lord, let Adam be all right.
“What is it, Adam?” She squatted down beside him.
“My aggie!” He pointed at the gap between the rise and tread of the step.
A heavy dose of relief flowed through Emily. She put a hand to her booming heart.
“Oh, Adam, you scared the wits out of me.”
“It fell out of my hand and rolled down there.” Another wail escaped his lips, and he turned his tear-trailed face to hers.
“It’s all right, Sweetheart, we’ll get it.” She sat on the step beside him and patted his shoulder.
He turned into her arms and melted into her embrace.
“It’s all right,” she said.
“It’s my best one.”
“I know, Honey, we’ll get it.” She pulled away and surveyed the crevice. There was no way a hand would fit through there. She grabbed the step ledge and tried to pry it up, but it didn’t budge.
“Let’s get Pa,” he said.
She tried to loosen the board again and failed. “I’m sure I can do it. I just need to find the right tool. Stay here.”
As she walked to the barn, she looked back and saw there had been no need to tell him to stay put. Adam was not going to leave his marble.
When she sat down beside him again, she had a heavy hammer in her hand. “Move back, now.” She whacked under the ledge until it lifted. As she pried up the board, the rusty nails squeaked as they loosened their grip on the plank.
Sunlight poured into the cavity, bathing the stale space with light. Emily set the step tread on the porch.
“There it is!”
The green glass marble lay nestled in dirt below. She reached in through strings of cobwebs and grabbed it. As she pulled it out, something alongside the inner wall of the steps caught her eye.
She handed the aggie to Adam, and he threw his arms around her. “Thanks, Emily.” With that, he ran into the house, the door slapping behind him.
Emily reached back into the crevice and grabbed for the canvas against the wall. Once she had it in her hands, she quickly withdrew it, dropping it beside her, and plucked off all the webs on her arm. She set the plank in place and hammered it back down.
Picking up the rumpled canvas, she stood and walked up the steps.
On the top step she froze. The canvas, browned with age, and blurred by water damage was a map.
She eagerly scanned the page. Yes. She could see where a crude house was drawn. At the top right-hand side of the page, an X was very clearly marked, though the drawings in the area around it were blurred. She flipped the map around. If this were the front of the house, then the X was behind the house to the west. But how far?
She studied the lines and indistinct images. There was simply no way of telling how far. But it looked like. . .yes, it looked like the lines around the X depicted a cave or a cliff wall. The gold might be buried in a cave on Cade’s property. But there could be many caves! How would she ever find the right one? And once she did, how would she retrieve the gold?
She scrutinized the picture again, then hugged it to her chest. At least she had an inkling now of the direction it was in. And maybe there were only a few caves out that way. She could ask Cade a question or two and then start searching. Hope welled in her chest. Maybe she could find the gold and be done with this whole mess before winter. Uncle Stewart would release Nana to her care, and surely Cade wouldn’t mind if Nana came here to live.
She so wanted to get this over with. She was tired of deceiving Cade. Perhaps he withheld his affections because he sensed her dishonesty. Perhaps when all this was finished, he would find it within himself to love her as a wife. Somehow, even though she cared greatly for Adam, she couldn’t seem to let go of the desire to have her own children. Her heart harbored frustration because of Cade. What were a few white lies when he was denying her dream?
Finding the map put a hope in her heart the rest of the day. Later that night as Emily tucked Adam into bed, she ran her fingers through his soft, dark hair. He had a new freckle on his nose, a result of the hours spent in outdoor play. She wondered idly if a child of hers would have freckles. Probably so, since her own skin was fair and prone to them.
“I forgot to get your bonnet,” he said.
“I think we both forgot, Sweetheart.”
“Does that mean you won’t bury the treasure tomorrow?”
She chuckled and ruffled his hair. “I’ll still bury it. But not until after chores.”
A shuffle sounded behind her, and she turned to see Cade in the doorway.
She leaned down and planted a kiss on Adam’s cheek. “Sweet dreams, Adam. Good night.”
Suddenly, he pulled her into his little arms. “Night, Ma.”
Th
e word caused her breath to catch in her throat. Her eyes stung, and as she pulled back from the boy, the sweet smile on his face stole her heart.
She squeezed his arm and stood, turning to leave the room. But before she took a step, her gaze connected with Cade’s. His stricken expression impaled her. She couldn’t move for a moment, caught in the steely web of his gaze. His displeasure was evident in the tight bunching of his brows, the rigid set of his shoulders.
Quickly, she brushed past him and down the stairs. She grabbed her sewing basket and busied her fingers with a holey stocking. Why was Cade so distressed that Adam had called her “Ma”? Was it so awful that he had grown to love her, that she had grown to love him? A child needed a mother, and she was the only one this child would ever have. That was his reason for marrying her, after all.
She realized the hurt she’d read on Cade’s face must be on Ingrid’s behalf. Of course that must hurt. But it had been five years, and it was only right that Adam should have a ma.
She stuck the needle through the material and pulled it out the other side. The look on Cade’s face bore into her with more force that she’d like to admit. His displeasure bothered her. Wasn’t she good enough for his son? Did he see something in her he disliked so much that he wanted distance between her and Adam? Wasn’t the distance between her and Cade bad enough?
She heard his feet on the stairs and stiffened as he entered the room and settled across from her, his Bible in his lap. She kept her gaze fixed on her work. Her heart jumped against her ribs.
Cade’s presence in the room was thick and tangible. The very air had changed when he’d entered, and her spirit squirmed. Did he regret marrying her? Her gut clenched at the thought. Did he dislike the influence she had over his son? When had she come to care so much what he thought of her?
Her gaze darted to him, and in the brief instant, she knew why she cared so much. She was falling in love with him.
She glanced at him again, her fingers trembling with the discovery. Was it somehow written on her face, in her posture? She felt sure it was and wished she could evaporate right then and there. She poked the needle through the stocking, and it poked her finger.
She sucked in her breath.
He looked at her then.
She looked at her finger, where a dot of red bloomed, and blotted it with a handkerchief from her pocket.
“You all right?” he asked.
She nodded, holding the cloth to stanch the flow of blood.
Quiet settled over the room like a heavy fog. She wondered if he looked at her still, but hadn’t the nerve to check.
Upstairs, Adam shifted in his bed, and the straw ticking crackled. The mantel clock ticked off time.
“I’m sorry about how I acted upstairs.”
She looked at him then, her heart in her throat. His expression was soft in the glow of lamplight, and her breath came in shallow puffs. He was so strong and masculine, yet sometimes she caught a glimpse of this gentle side and wondered at it.
“It’s good for him to call you ‘Ma.’ ” There was a glimmer of sadness in his eyes.
A dark cloud of jealousy spread through her, but she pushed it away. It was only normal that Cade would be sad for his loss. For Adam’s loss.
❧
Cade wondered if Emily could see the heavy thumping of his heart through his shirt. When she looked at him like that, with her doe-brown eyes all defenseless, he remembered that time in the attic when he’d held her in his arms. The familiar stab of guilt stopped the thought.
He had to think about Adam now, and his need of a mother. He’d wanted his son to have a mother; that was a big part of why he’d married Emily to start with. But hearing his son call her “Ma,” seeing him embrace her, had sent an ache deep into the pit of his stomach. Ingrid was not here to be his mother, and though it hurt to see her replaced, Emily was a fine substitute. She would love him and nurture him the way a child needed.
Emily’s face was mask of vulnerability. Did she think he was angry with her? Admit it, Manning, you were angry with her. Angry that she’s replaced Ingrid in Adam’s eyes.
“You’ve been good to Adam,” he said, wanting to allay her fears. “I reckon he’s taken to you like we both hoped he would.”
She pulled the handkerchief off her finger and surveyed the pinprick, then twisted the white material in her hands. “I’ve grown fond of him.”
She wetted her lips, and he wished for a moment that she’d said the words about him. Had she grown fond of him as well? The thought made his heart jump.
As if she could read his mind, her face turned pink, and she looked down at her hands. “He’s a good boy; you’ve done well by him.”
The words struck a note of pride in his father’s heart. He’d done his best, but Emily had given Adam something he’d badly missed. Gratitude for her swelled up within him. He’d gotten a mother for his child and a woman to care for all their needs, and what had she gotten in return? A place to live? How could he repay her for her sacrifice? He felt a deep longing to do something for her.
“I appreciate everything you’ve done for him. For us.” He nodded and hoped the words hadn’t been spoken too brusquely. Words were not his specialty, especially flowery ones.
“It’s a privilege to care for Adam.” Her gaze avoided his, and he thought he’d embarrassed her with his gratitude.
He wished briefly that she’d included him in her words. Did she count it a privilege to care for him as well? He knew the thought went beyond their relationship, but he wanted it to be true regardless.
“You don’t mind then?” Hope lit the velvet brown of her eyes.
His thoughts, scattered as a whirlwind, missed her meaning.
“If he calls me ‘Ma,’ I mean,” she said.
He shook his head. “I think that’d be best.”
She gave a short nod and picked up her sewing. Somehow, allowing her to be a real mother to his son made him wonder what it would be like if she became a real wife to him. His gut clenched. With a clamped jaw and a tenacious spirit, he tried to call up pictures of Ingrid. Pictures of their own wedding, of her standing over a hot griddle, of her reading by lantern light. Deep down, in the shadows of his mind, he admitted that these days, those pictures were fading from his memory. And he wondered what would take their place.
❧
That night before Emily snuggled up under her quilts, she pulled her diary from its drawer and sat back against her pillows.
Dear Diary,
What an eventful day this has been! Quite by happenstance, I found the map under a step on the porch. It is, unfortunately, damaged by water and weather, but it gives me the general idea of the gold’s hiding place which is more than I had before.
Awhile ago, while I tucked Adam into bed, he called me “Ma” for the first time. My heart wanted to weep with joy. He is the child I always longed for, and though I didn’t carry him in my womb, he is every bit the child of my heart. It was distressing for Cade to hear his son call me “Ma,” but now, I think, he has decided it’s best.
I’m hope this will bring our little family closer together. For right now, I don’t feel like we’re a family at all, but rather like three people sharing the same abode. I can’t help but think Adam feels this too. Perhaps with time, Cade’s heart will soften toward me, and we will be a real family at last.
Eight
Dear Uncle Stewart,
I have good news for you. I found the map that Quincy Manning hid. It was beneath the porch for all these years. Although it has significant water damage, I was able to tell the general direction to search for the gold. It looks as if they buried it in a cave. I have inquired of Cade about the caves on his property as much as I can, but I don’t want him to become suspicious. Because of the map’s condition, I’m not sure how many caves there are to search, but most of them appear to have numerous
tunnels.
Though the summer is well under way, I’m hopeful that I will meet your deadline. When I find the gold, I will notify you right away. Perhaps then Nana can come here, and you won’t be burdened with her care any longer. Please take good care of her for me and give her my love.
Sincerely,
Emily
Emily stashed the letter in the envelope and sealed it. A dose of guilt trickled through her veins, and she knew Sunday’s sermon was the cause of it. Had Reverend Hill’s sermon on Potiphar’s wife been just for her? It had been awhile since she’d heard the story of Joseph and how Potiphar’s wife had tried to seduce him. Although Joseph had turned her away, she deceived her husband and told him Joseph had tried to seduce her. The sermon had focused on how God had blessed Joseph regardless of the evil done against him, but a different point poked Emily in the heart. She was deceiving her own husband just like Potiphar’s wife had.
But this is different. I’m doing it for Nana’s sake. Potiphar’s wife was doing it for her own selfishness.
It wasn’t as if Emily was after the gold herself. She wanted nothing to do with the stolen gold. She wanted only Nana’s safety.
But I’m deceiving Cade.
She couldn’t get around that no matter how hard she tried. Did the end justify the means? It was a question she wasn’t sure how to answer. She felt like the raccoon she’d seen two dogs chase up a tree this week. What choice had she? Was she supposed to let her uncle put her grandmother in the asylum? Dear, gentle Nana? Her stomach twisted. Help me, Lord.
But even as the words formed in her mind, she snatched them back. There was no easy answer here, no way out of this dilemma. She would just find the gold as quickly as possible; then she could get on with her new life here. Life as Adam’s mother and Cade’s—she couldn’t quite bring herself to say the word. She was not Cade’s wife at all. But in the depths of her heart, she knew she longed to become his wife in every sense of the word.
❧
Emily took a sip of the tea Mara had poured her and watched Adam playing with Beth, Mara’s little sister-in-law. Though Beth and Mara weren’t related by blood, it was obvious they shared a mother-daughter bond.
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