Flint Hills Bride (4 page)

“Are you feeling all right?” he asked.

She wondered if her face was flushed then realized he was still teasing her about working. “I’ll have you know,” she began, pointing at him with the tip of her knife, “I’ve become quite handy in the kitchen.”

“I’m impressed.” He grinned at her as he shed his coat. Instead of taking it and his hat to the hooks in the back hall, he leaned against the counter beside her. “You even kind of enjoy it, don’t you?”

She returned her attention to the chopping board,
giving him a brief nod. When he didn’t move away, she looked up to find him watching her. Christian had left, presumably to hang up his coat, and Perry was helping Martha set the kitchen table for the Rawlins’s meal. She asked softly, “Can I talk to you after dinner?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll take a walk—” She had almost told him the path beyond the barn. That was where she hoped to meet Anson when he came for her. It wouldn’t do for Jake to think of it as her usual place to walk. She suggested the opposite direction. “How about meeting me past your parents’ house?”

“Fine,” he said, and moved away.

She found herself breathing easier when he was gone. She didn’t like deceiving her family, and she didn’t like using Jake. That was why she had felt breathless when he was so close. That and the knowledge that he was attracted to her.

After dinner, Emily donned her cloak and gloves and left the house. Willa had wanted to go with her, and she felt guilty about leaving her, even though it would have been impossible to take her along.

She had tried at first to dissuade the child by telling her it was too cold, but Willa had said she had a warm coat and hat. Next she said she would be walking too far for a little girl, but Willa claimed to have walked miles without getting tired. Finally Lynnette had stepped in, telling her that sometimes grown-ups needed time alone.

She knew the path she followed well enough to walk without much attention to her surroundings and
quickly sank deep in thought. Guilt for disappointing the child added to what she already felt and made her miserable. She couldn’t lose courage now. Her family was giving her no choice.

She had to see Anson and tell him what she suspected. To do that, she had to mail his letter. And for that, she needed Jake.

A figure suddenly appeared in the path before her, and she stumbled back, losing her balance. A hand caught her arm, righting her before she fell. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Jake.” She sighed with relief. “I didn’t realize I had come so far.”

“You looked pretty distracted.”

His breath made little white clouds in the cold air. He still held her arm; in fact, he had stepped closer. She had been this close to him before, but couldn’t remember ever being quite so aware of him. Her stomach shivered, from the cold, she tried to tell herself, or from recently being startled. She should step away, pull herself together.

Instead she looked up into his eyes. It was a mistake. They burned into her, seared her to the core with their heat. She gasped as her body reacted.

His eyes softened immediately. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, stepping away. Of course she wasn’t all right. Nothing was all right. She wanted to scream at him for making her feel this way, but that would hardly suit her purpose.

She gave him a smile that she hoped looked shy—she didn’t dare try seductive—and said, “I have a favor to ask.”

“Then ask.” His voice was so kind she felt a new rush of guilt. She had a fleeting thought that she had never heard Anson’s voice sound like that, and quickly brushed it away.

“I have a letter I need you to post for me.”

Suspicion was easy to read in his narrowed eyes. “Why ask me? Why not your brother or whoever’s going into town?”

“Please, Jake, none of them will do it.” Quickly, before he said no, she turned around, opened her cloak and retrieved the letter from her bodice. “Here.” She heard the uncertainty and pleading in her own voice.

“Emily.” There was a plea in his voice, as well. “Don’t ask me to do this.” He closed her cloak, rebuttoning it against the cold she had barely been aware of. “Your family doesn’t want you to contact him.
I
don’t want you to contact him.”

“You said you wouldn’t judge him.” She thrust the letter toward him, hoping once he took it in his hand he would give in.

“I tried not to. I want the best for you, Emily. I just can’t believe he’s the best.”

“How is it your place to decide what’s best for me?” She was failing. He was too stubborn. She felt tears sting her eyes and tried to blink them away. He would think she was using them as a weapon.

“You’re right.” He lifted the letter from her fingers. “Friends need to trust each other. And count on each other. I’ll mail your letter.”

“Jake.” She threw her arms around him, pressing her cheek against his chest. “I knew I could count on you,” she murmured.

His arms encircled her, holding her closer. The tears she had held back earlier trickled down her cheek. She was warm and safe in his arms and reluctant to leave them.

Finally he drew her away. She quickly brushed the tears from her cheeks and smiled up at him. “Thanks, Jake,” she whispered.

He nodded solemnly. She thought for a moment that he would say something, but he slipped the letter into his coat pocket, stepped around her and walked away.

Jake walked into his parents’ home, knowing it was empty. His mother would be busy at the Prescotts’ until well after supper. If his father finished whatever Christian needed him to do this afternoon, he would be more likely to spend his free time with his wife in the big house than to come back here. No, he would be alone, and that suited him.

The house was dim, but he didn’t light a lamp. He stood across the room from the front window and watched for Emily to walk past. He should have taken her arm and seen her safely to her door. He should still do it.

But he couldn’t He didn’t trust himself to be that close to her. He was liable to take her into his arms and tell her he loved her. He had come too damn close already.

He saw her pass on the path, her head down, walking fast. She would be safe and warm in no time. He didn’t have to feel guilty. He took a step closer to the window, then another, to watch her until she was out of sight.

Why did he let her do this to him? He should thoroughly dislike her for falling for that jailbird, for defying her parents, for using him.

For not wanting the love he was so willing to give her.

He was a fool. It was that simple and too late to change.

He unbuttoned his coat but didn’t take it off. The room was cold, and he didn’t want to light a fire. He wouldn’t stay here long. He pulled the letter from his pocket and studied the clear, even lettering. Anson Berkeley. He wanted to destroy it, not mail it! He wanted to light that fire after all and watch the letter turn to ashes!

The violence of his reaction horrified him. He didn’t trust himself to hold on to the letter for long. He shoved it back into his pocket and rebuttoned his coat. If he left now he could make it back before dark.

Half an hour later he was riding toward town. It hadn’t been hard to convince his father that he needed to check in with his boss in Cottonwood Falls. It was an excuse he had used many times to avoid being on the ranch when Emily was expected. His mother might have been more difficult to convince, but he had left her to his father.

The cold crisp air in his face as he rode cleared his mind. He had started to harbor hopes about Emily again. The letter was a reminder that she would never be his. His purpose wasn’t to win her away from Berkeley but to protect her from him. He couldn’t do that if his mind was clouded with fantasies.

Of course, mailing this letter wasn’t a particularly good way of protecting her, either. He should never
have agreed to do it. But perhaps Berkeley would get the letter and not respond. Perhaps he had already forgotten her.

Perhaps. But it wasn’t likely. This letter would probably encourage him. It might be the one thing he needed to send him out after Emily. Thank heaven, the man was in jail.

It was midafternoon when Jake rode into Strong. He posted the letter first, afraid that any delay might cause him to accidentally lose the letter. Then, still convinced he had done the wrong thing, he rode on to the river bridge and into Cottonwood Falls.

The courthouse, situated at the end of the main street, dominated the town. He rode toward it, taking in the activity on either side of him out of habit. He watered his horse at the trough before tying him and going inside.

Sheriff Tom Chaffee was in his office in the basement. He looked up from his cluttered desk when Jake walked in. “Afternoon, son. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

“I know,” Jake said, taking a seat across from his boss. “I was in town and thought I’d see if you have any word from Topeka.” Tom would know what particular news he was after.

Tom winced. “You’re not going to like this.”

Jake tried to keep his face from showing his alarm. “What?”

The spring in Tom’s chair squeaked as he rocked back. “The boy’s out. Seems his folks paid for all the damages, and the old fella agreed to drop the charges.”

“When did this happen?”

Tom took a moment before he answered. “I got word last night.”

Jake felt his temper rise and knew it was unreasonable. He hoped his boss couldn’t sense how he felt.

Tom’s next words made him think he could. “I’m a little shorthanded here to be sending someone out to the ranch with messages. Besides, you’re supposed to be on vacation, and this case is way out of our jurisdiction.”

”The police will let us know if anything else happens, won’t they?”

Tom brought his chair back to an upright position and bent over his desk. “I’m sure the Prescotts will let their son know if anything else happens.” He found his place on the form and resumed writing.

Jake had been dismissed. He rose slowly and turned toward the door.

“Oh, and Jake?”

Jake turned back. “Yes, sir?”

Tom didn’t look up. “Maybe you should concentrate on winning the little gal’s affection and forget about the competition.”

Jake paused, looking at his boss’s bent head for the space of four heartbeats. “Yes, sir,” he said, and left the office. He took the stairs two at a time, imagining his boss having a good chuckle at his expense once he was out of earshot. He shouldn’t be surprised that Tom had guessed his real interest in the case. Loyalty to the Prescott family wouldn’t be enough to make him quite so eager to see Berkeley punished.

He walked into the fresh, cold air, trying to will his frustration away. He shouldn’t expect the sheriff
to send someone all the way out to the ranch at the slightest word on the case. Emily probably wasn’t in any immediate danger from Berkeley, anyway.

At least not until he got her letter.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath. He strode to his horse and mounted. All the way back through Cottonwood Falls, and across the bridge, he argued with himself. Should he try to get the letter back from the postmaster? If he did, what would he tell Emily? In the end, Emily’s trust won, and he rode past the post office and out of Strong.

J
ake found Christian alone in the barn when he returned to the ranch. As he rubbed down his horse, he told his former boss what the sheriff had reported.

Christian stood silently for a long time. Jake was careful to keep his face turned away. The older man had been alternately big brother, mentor and boss to him. He was afraid his feelings for Emily would be at least as easy for her brother to read as they had been for the sheriff.

“I guess I’m not surprised,” Christian finally said, “considering everything my folks have said about his family. I just hope he doesn’t find Emily.”

Jake closed his eyes, trying to block the pain. He ought to warn Christian about the letter, but that would betray Emily’s trust. Or was he simply unwilling to accept the blame for his part in sending it. He hoped it was the former.

“I’m betting he’ll come for her,” Jake said.

“Why?” The question was sharp with speculation.

Jake’s hand stilled on the horse’s flank. “Because I would.”

Christian laughed. “Don’t use your own sense of honor to guess this fella’s behavior. Chances are he was out celebrating with someone else the first night he was out of jail.”

“The first night who was out of jail?”

At the sound of Emily’s voice, Jake spun around. The movement momentarily startled the horse. By the time he had him calmed again, Christian had moved to his sister’s side. Jake joined him slowly, waiting for the older man to speak.

“What are you doing out in the cold, muffin?”

Emily ignored the question and turned instead to Jake. “Was he talking about Anson?” she asked.

The dark brown eyes glaring at him made it impossible to lie. He cast Christian a glance before he nodded.

She turned to her brother. “When would you have told me?” There was enough accusation in the tone for Jake to guess she was asking “if” rather than “when.”

“Tonight,” Christian said quietly. “As soon as I got in.”

“Then it’s fine,” Emily said. “He’s out because he’s innocent of the charges.”

Christian shook his head. “His parents paid off the victim.”

“That’s ridiculous. Even if his parents paid the damages they wouldn’t drop the charges unless he was innocent.”

“You’re not being reasonable, Em,” Christian said.

“You’re not being fair!”

Jake watched the exchange from a distance. After
the initial question she seemed unaware of his presence. She tried to stare her brother down, but Christian was too confident. After a long moment she spun on her heel and left the barn.

He watched after her, wishing he could offer her something—comfort, understanding, anything. The problem was he completely agreed with her brother, and she knew it.

He finally remembered the grooming brush in his hand. He turned back to the horse only to discover Christian’s appraising eyes on him.

“You really think he’ll come for her?” Christian asked.

“Yes, sir. Or she’ll go to him.”

“Why is she so stubborn? Why can’t she see what he’s really like?”

Jake didn’t think Christian expected answers, but he responded anyway. “She’s stubborn because she’s who she is. We wouldn’t want her any other way. And maybe we’re the ones who don’t know what he’s really like.”

“You’re taking her side?”

Jake shook his head. “I said maybe. But why should she listen to us when we’ve never met him? He’s the only one who’s going to convince her, and he’ll hurt her in the process.”

Christian was silent, and Jake finished caring for his horse. When he left the stall, he found Christian still waiting. “Help me watch her,” Christian said. “She trusts you more than me, right now. Don’t let him take her away where I’ll never see her again.”

Jake considered just how much he should tell his
friend. Finally he answered softly. “That’s why I’m here.”

Emily knew it was panic that made her so sharp with her brother and shame that kept her from looking Jake in the eye. Neither of them were to blame for her predicament, and Jake had even tried to help.

She sat on her bed in her room, staring at the moonlight that filtered through the curtains. It was funny how quickly she went from irritated to furious these days. Or from disappointed to fighting tears. She had heard that expectant mothers were emotional; she had witnessed it to a small degree in Lynnette. But it wasn’t proof, she told herself. The strain of worry could have the same effect. And worry could make her feel sick to her stomach.

She lowered her head to her hands. By the time she knew for certain, it would be too late to marry discreetly. Anyone who could count would know that she had fallen.

She sat up straight again, taking a deep breath. Anson would come for her. He loved her. She refused to believe anything else. Her hands shook and she clutched them in her lap. She needed sleep, for herself and for her baby if there was one. All she needed was a good night’s sleep, and she would be fine.

After a light breakfast the next morning, Emily bundled up to take a walk. She knew it was too early for Anson to have gotten her letter and come to meet her, but she decided it would be good to establish a habit of walking every day to avoid arousing anyone’s suspicion.

Martha had been alone in the kitchen when she had
gotten a slice of toast, and she assumed Lynnette and the children were downstairs. She was happy to slip out the back door without having to tell Willa she couldn’t go along.

She headed toward the trail on the far side of the barn and suddenly found Jake walking beside her.

“Good morning,” he said, as if there hadn’t been a sharp word uttered the night before. “Mind if I join you?”

“Well, actually—”

“It’s a pretty day for a stroll. Cold but sunny. Are you warm enough?”

“I’m fine. But I really—”

“Good. We wouldn’t want you getting chilled. Don’t you miss these wide-open spaces when you’re in town? I know I do.”

Emily gritted her teeth. He had taken her arm and was walking slowly beside her as if he were her escort. “No,” she said. “What I miss is the solitude.”

“Really? I’m surprised. I never figured you for someone who wanted to be alone a lot. But the country’s good for that, too.”

He was being deliberately obtuse. The only way to get rid of him would be to flat tell him to leave. Of course with Jake, even that might not work.

“I’d like to be alone now, if you don’t mind,” she said. His fingers tightened on her arm when she tried to pull it free.

“We are alone, sweetheart.” His voice was low, almost a seductive whisper.

“Very funny. You know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” he said, continuing to walk beside her. “I know. But you might get lost…”

Emily pointed ahead at the path that wrapped around the hill. It was white where the thin soil had worn away from the limestone and stood out in sharp contrast to the brown and gold grass. “I’m not going to get lost!”

“Or fall and turn your ankle,” he went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “I wouldn’t get anything done for worrying so I might as well come along.”

Emily had to laugh. She wasn’t sure if it was at him or at herself. Well, he could come today, since there was no chance that Anson was waiting. She would have to figure out some way to elude him in the future. Or perhaps he would get used to seeing her walking every day and stop playing the big brother.

“There’s another thing I’ve missed,” he said. “Your laugh.”

“Don’t go getting serious on me, Jake. I get enough of that from everybody else. Little lost Emily who needs to be straightened out.”

“You’ve got a deal. I promise never to be serious.”

If she had hurt his feelings, she couldn’t hear it in his voice. He walked on at the same slow pace, his hand lightly holding her arm. She was about to venture a look at his face when she heard him chuckle. “What?”

“I was just remembering when you were little and came for the summer. Your pa and brothers in the mansion, me and my pa in the little house with Ma the only woman on the place. You turned everybody on his ear. The first time, you were a little bitty thing, about like Willa. Ma wanted you to stay with us. She was sure you’d miss your ma in the night and none
of the men up here would know what to do for you. She had Arlen convinced right away, almost convinced your pa. But Christian wouldn’t hear of it. He barely let you out of his sight.”

Emily watched the prairie grasses nod in the light breeze. “You were what, about nine? What did you think of the idea?”

“Oh, I was against it. I figured you were a baby, and I didn’t want some baby crying in the night, waking me up. I kept my mouth shut though, and let Christian do the arguing. After it was settled, and it was safe, I told Ma it had been a fine idea, and I was real sorry you wouldn’t be with us.”

Emily laughed. “You always knew how to get around your ma.”

“Not as well as you could get around Christian. I swear! You would talk me into something, and I’d be in trouble. Do you remember the boat we were going to sail down that stream down there?” He pointed to the valley below where a narrow creek reflected the blue of the sky.

“Oh, Lord. I almost drowned.”

“You didn’t almost drown.” He stopped and turned to face her, his hands on his hips. She choked back a giggle. “You convinced Christian that you had almost drowned so he’d let you off the hook. You know, I missed a trip to town because of your harebrained scheme.”

“If it was so harebrained,” she asked with mock exasperation, “how come you went along with it?”

“Well,” he said, turning to walk at her side again. “I didn’t know it was harebrained until the boat sank.
I really thought I could build a boat. I didn’t see how it could be so hard.”

Emily, still smiling, rested her head against his shoulder as she walked. “Dear Jake. You took the blame for other things, too, didn’t you? Like the Indian-war-paint incident and riding the sled down the icehouse roof?”

“Now that one scared me.”

“And then there was the great wilderness adventure.”

Jake groaned. “I’d forgotten that one. We thought if we walked west for a couple days we’d be in the California goldfields. Never mind that we were about twenty years late.”

“I pictured great cornfields growing gold. That’s why I stole Christian’s knife, so I could cut it.”

“Telling Christian that you said you knew the way didn’t seem to keep me out of trouble.”

“Jake, you must have been twelve or thirteen. You should have known better.”

He turned toward her again, all but taking her in his arms. No, it was just her imagination. He was only resting his hands lightly on her shoulders. “That’s just it, Emily,” he said. “I did know better. I always knew better—or usually, anyway. But you could convince me of anything. Emily—”

She took a step away. “You promised not to get serious.”

He smiled then, more tender than teasing. “You’re right. Are you ready to go back?”

“Yes, I think so,” she said.

He was quiet all the way home. Emily found herself lost in memories of their shared childhood. There
had always been a gentleness about Jake she hadn’t truly appreciated as a girl. She was lucky to have such a friend.

He took her to the kitchen door instead of the back door where the coats were hung. “It’s warmer in here,” he said. Once inside, he took her cloak and gloves and turned her over to his mother, who recommended a cup of hot tea.

Emily warmed herself near the kitchen stove while she waited for the water to boil. She found herself wishing Jake would hang up the coats and return to share the tea with her, but he didn’t. He must have gone back outside to resume whatever chores he had interrupted for their walk. It was difficult to explain her disappointment. Perhaps he distracted her, kept her from dwelling on her worries, kept her from missing Anson.

Dinner was a quiet affair. Christian made no more reference to Anson than Jake had. Trevor was still shy of Emily, though he let her hold him and feed him for a little while. Willa declared the noodles Martha had fixed her favorite and was so busy eating she was noticeably less talkative. Christian and Lynnette talked and teased each other, making Emily feel even more lonely.

Escaping before dessert, she sat on her bed and stared across the room without seeing it. This place, with its memories and its laughter conspired to confuse her. Things had been so much clearer in town. There she knew she loved Anson and he loved her. They were meant to be together. Her parents were the enemy, keeping her from happiness.

Here, so far from Anson, her love—and his—were less certain. Their chances of having a future like Christian and Lynnette seemed remote. Anson wasn’t much like Christian. But then, she wasn’t just like Lynnette, either. They would find their own way, their own life.

Somehow, even to herself, the argument seemed weak. She felt tears spring to her eyes and brushed them away. Tears, there always seemed to be tears! And often at the oddest times. Holding Trevor did it the fastest.

Things
had
to work out with Anson. What would become of her if they didn’t? She rested a hand on her belly and swallowed the lump in her throat. If Anson didn’t come for her, she would have to go away alone. She would be too ashamed to face her family and too afraid they might make her give the baby away.

She wished there was someone she could talk to, someone who wouldn’t condemn her. She had come close to confiding in Rose who had been her best friend for so long. But Rose was married to Arlen, and he was worse than her mother when it came to propriety. He would have her packed off to a maternity home and spread the lie that she was on some European tour. A sister with a bastard could hurt his political career.

Lynnette was her next choice. She would be understanding at least. And so would Christian, maybe. But what help could she really expect from them? They couldn’t tell her how to magically make the baby go away, how to magically undo the past.

You’ve made your bed and now you have to sleep
in it,
had a whole new meaning now. She felt another tear threaten and brushed at it angrily. She hated feeling sorry for herself! She had no patience for it in other people. She would survive. She would be a good mother to her child, with or without its father.