A Family to Be (Saddle Falls) (3 page)

“Em, I’m glad you’re home.”

She beamed at him allowing the first honest emotion to cut through the haze of fear and panic that had walked with her for months. “So am I, Josh. So am I.” With a regretful little sigh, Em stepped back out of his embrace, not trusting the feelings and emotions Josh’s touch had evoked. It was just hormones, she told herself, trying not to get too excited by the feelings suffusing her. The doctor said it would happen, had in fact told her to expect it. So the feelings Josh’s touch evoked was certainly nothing to get alarmed about. Nothing at all.

“Thanks, Josh, for everything. I’ll see you later.” Anxious to leave because of how she was feeling, Em headed toward the door, holding back her sigh of unbridled relief until Josh’s office door closed quietly behind her.

T
wo hours later, juggling a bag of groceries, a small suitcase and her purse, Emma nervously inserted her key into the front door, and for the first time in six long years stepped into her father’s house.

Although it was January, the days in Nevada were still warm, but the house had been closed up and the air-conditioning turned off, so that now the house was eerily dark and stifling oppressive, making it difficult to breathe. With the front door still open, allowing a hint of light from the fading sun, inside Emma leaned on the doorjamb, letting everything in her arms slide to the floor as another bout of nausea and dizziness hit her. The grocery bag tipped, dumping its contents onto the floor where cans rolled and boxes bounced across the room. Watching them, Em merely shook her head, unable to drag up enough energy to go chasing after them.

She was already in her second trimester of pregnancy and the doctors had assured her this light-headedness, along with the morning sickness and unbearable fatigue would have passed by now.

Clearly, they’d been wrong, she thought with a frown, unconsciously pressing a protective hand against her slightly bulging tummy.

Totally drained, she leaned her back against the door, then slid down until her behind reached the floor, not trusting her shaky legs to support her any longer.

Staying utterly still, she kept her eyes closed until that cold, clammy feeling passed and the room finally stopped spinning.

After swallowing convulsively several times, Emma opened her eyes, rubbed them, then glanced around the once familiar house, outlined now in mere shadows by the darkness. A wealth of emotions and memories seemed to spring to life, as if the mere act of stepping back inside her father’s house had finally released them.

It was hard to believe she was actually home.

Home.

Tears filled her eyes, and she furiously blinked them away. It had been a long, long time since she’d thought of this house as a
home.
Not since her mother died when she was barely six years old.

After that, everything had changed, especially her father, who had no patience for a lonely little girl’s tears or fears. If Emma closed her eyes, she could still hear his deep, gruff voice echoing through the house.

“You’re eight years old, girl, time for you to grow up. The dark ain’t nothing to be afraid of. So stop that sniveling and go to sleep before I give you something to snivel about.”

Emma pushed her hair off her face, then blew out a breath. She supposed her father was suffering from his own form of grief, but at the time she wasn’t old enough to understand that he might be hurting as well. All she knew was her own fear and pain—which was so huge it seemed to have cut a life-size hole in her heart—had never really healed.

With a sigh, she rubbed her hands over her weary eyes again, letting them slide closed for a moment, trying not to feel sorry for herself. But every time she closed her eyes she could hear her father’s voice.

Don’t you go crying to the Ryans anymore, you hear me Em? I won’t have any daughter of mine telling tales about me to our neighbors. You got a good life, girl, a roof over your head and food on the table. So stop your complaining, you hear me?

Lord, she thought with a shake of her head, how her father had resented the Ryans for giving her the comfort—the sense of belonging and family—he wasn’t able to. If she hadn’t known better, she would have sworn he was almost relieved when Josh’s parents had been killed in a plane crash.

With Mrs. Ryan gone, she’d gone back to living with the loneliness, tension and fear that had dogged her from the time she was six, until she’d finally escaped her father’s house at twenty.

Escaped.

Emma smiled sadly. It was hard to believe she still thought of leaving her father’s house as escaping, but she did. It had been six long years since she’d ran out this very door, tears spilling down her cheeks, her father’s harsh, angry words ringing in her ears.

That boy’s no good, girl. I’m telling you. You marry him and you’ll bring on nothing but heartache. He’ll give you a belly-full then run at the first sign of trouble. And then what? Don’t think you can come crying home to me. If you leave now, don’t you ever come back, you hear me, girl? You won’t be welcome in my home.

“I heard you, Daddy,” Emma whispered, choking back a sob as her voice echoed along the walls of the empty house. “I heard you.” At the time, she had no idea those would be the last words her father would ever say to her. Or how true they would turn out to be. “You were right this time, Daddy,” she said with a sniffle. “That boy
was
no good. No good at all.” Unfortunately, it had taken her almost six years of marriage and one pregnancy to discover it.

Emma tried to shake off the terror that had invaded her battered heart and nearly broken her spirit during the months following Jack’s abandonment when she was alone and pregnant with nowhere to live and no one to turn to, and worse, no way to support or take care of her precious child.

And she wondered again how she could have been so naive? So foolish?

Clearly, foolishly loving a man had led her to lose any sense of judgment. Loving a man, and allowing herself to trust and
depend
on him was what had gotten her into this mess of a situation in the first place.

She was not about to make that mistake ever again. She wasn’t about to let herself be blinded by love ever again.

Glancing around the room and feeling a profound sense of relief for the first time in months, Em grinned, rubbing her belly. “You and me, Baby Girl, we’re gonna be just fine now. Just fine, love.”

Suddenly too weary to even keep her eyes open any longer, Em leaned her head back against the door, closed her eyes and allowed herself just a few moments of self-indulgence to savor the sense of peace and security she finally felt.

“Oh, my God, Em!” Standing at the foot of the porch stairs, Josh could see her crumpled on the floor through the open doorway. He’d left the office early, feeling as if he needed to check up on her. Now, he was glad he had.

Without thought, he took the stairs two at a time, his heart pumping in overtime. “Em, good Lord, what happened? Are you all right?” His gaze took in the scattered groceries, her overturned purse, and her keeled over suitcase, and his fear grew. “I knew I should never have let you walk out of my office alone.” Without giving her a chance to explain, he bent, scooped her up in his arms, and cradled her close.

“Josh.” Trying to catch her breath, she laid a hand to his chest, both touched and amused by his concern and alarm. “Josh, please, put me down. I’m fine, really.” She managed a weak smile as she glanced up at him.

“Yeah, and I’m Big Bird,” he growled, storming across the darkened living room, kicking cans and boxes out of his way.

Emma couldn’t help it, she started to laugh. “You’re the wrong color, Josh,” she teased, burying her face in his shoulder. “But about the right height.”

“This is not funny, Emma,” he scolded, using her full given name to show his annoyance as he gently laid her down on the couch, before snatching a toss pillow from an adjacent chair to tenderly tuck under her head. “Not funny at all,” he declared, glaring down at her from troubled eyes. “You scared the life out of me.” For a moment, he merely stood over her, not certain what to do. “Are you sick, Em? Should I call Doc Haggerty?” he finally asked with a frown.

“No, Josh. I don’t need Doc Haggerty and I’m not sick.” It wasn’t a lie, she told herself. She was
pregnant,
not sick. But she wanted to avoid the moment when she had to tell Josh, knowing his reaction would give the word
panic
whole new meaning.

Scowling, Josh planted his hands on his hips, glaring down at her, unwilling to let her stonewall him any longer. “Then do you mind telling me why the heck you were sprawled on the floor, white as a ghost?”

She shrugged, trying to make light of it. “I guess I’m just…hungry,” she hedged with a rueful smile. “That’s all. And I got a bit dizzy so I just sat down.” She shrugged, aware that he looked as if he wasn’t buying her story, not one bit.

“Hungry?” His scowl deepened. “When was the last time you had something to eat?”

She was quiet for a moment, chewing her bottom lip while she thought about the question, making him sigh heavily again. “Yesterday, I think.”

Yesterday?
He wanted to growl under his breath. Didn’t she even have enough sense to eat properly? That would certainly explain why she was so thin, he thought.

“You
think,
” he repeated in exasperation, giving his head a shake. “No wonder you can barely stand upright. You just stay right where you are, Em, do you hear me?”

“Yes, Josh,” she said in amusement, knowing there was no point in arguing with him when he had that look on his face.

He moved around the house, turning on lights, flipping on the air-conditioning, gathering up her scattered groceries.

He’d changed from the custom-tailored suit he’d worn this afternoon, and now had on a pair of faded jeans worn white in spots—jeans that hugged those magnificently masculine legs and thighs—and a white T-shirt that stretched far and wide to cover his broad chest and wide shoulders. The white contrasted sharply with the deeply bronzed tan he wore year-round, which she knew came from helping his brother Jared out on their ranch.

“Josh, if you wouldn’t mind bringing that chocolate ice cream over here, I’d appreciate it.”

He glanced down at the carton in his arms, then at her. Her eyes were twinkling and some of her color had returned. She didn’t look nearly so shaky, making him feel a bit better.

He walked into the kitchen, got a spoon from a drawer, then came back to her, popping off the top of the ice cream carton before handing it, along with the spoon to her.

“This is not exactly my idea of nourishment,” he commented, watching as she dipped the spoon into the creamy confection. “But if you share, I might not complain,” he added with a grin, sitting down next to her. At least the ice cream had sugar and would hopefully give her a boost of energy, he thought, watching as she dipped her spoon into the ice cream and fed him a bite, aware that his gaze never left hers.

“Em, look, I know I told you there were some additional details to handle regarding your father’s last wishes, and I thought they could wait, but—” He broke off, dragging a hand through his hair, not wanting to press her, but wanting to give her some assurance that things on his end were properly handled.

“But what, Josh?” she asked, taking another bite of the ice cream and nearly sighing in pleasure as the icy coolness exploded on her tongue.

“But, maybe we’d better get this taken care of now.” He hesitated. “I don’t know what your plans are, Em, or how long you plan to stay in Saddle Falls, but I don’t want you worrying about things on this end. I’ve got everything taken care of. Your dad asked me to handle the sale of this house and the diner for you. Now, I’ve already assembled a list of prospective buyers and I’m just qualifying them now so it shouldn’t be long—”

“
Sell
the diner and the house?” Em almost choked on her ice cream. She turned to Josh stunned by his words, as well as his closeness. He was so near she could see her own pale reflection in his eyes. Her pulse kicked up, surprising her. Hormones, she assured herself. Just hormones. “Why on earth would I want to sell the diner and this house?” The house and diner were all she had to secure her baby’s future. She had no intention of selling anything.

Josh shrugged, reaching for her spoon to help himself to some more ice cream. “Well, I guess your dad just assumed that you and your husband wouldn’t want the hassle of a house and a business, especially since you move around so much from base to base.” Josh shrugged. “I imagine your dad just wanted to make things easier for you.”

Never in her life had her father ever cared or tried to make anything easier for her, but she didn’t see the need to point that out right now. “Josh?”

“Hmm?” He stopped spooning ice cream from the carton to look at her. Something in her face set off an internal alarm bell inside him. “What Em?”

“Josh,” she began carefully, glancing around and feeling an uncommon sense of security and comfort at being around so many familiar things. It was a feeling that had eluded her for a very long time and now she merely wanted to savor it. “First of all, I’m not married, at least not anymore,” she added, rushing on as shock registered on his face. “And as much as I appreciate all your hard work, I have no intention of selling either this house or the diner. Not now,” she added firmly. “Not ever.”

“Okay,” he said slowly. “Then maybe you’d better tell me just what your plans are?”

She hesitated, then grinned, placing a loving hand over her belly. “Well, me and Baby Cakes plan on staying right here in Saddle Falls, living in Daddy’s house and running the diner.” She grinned up into his stunned face. “That’s the plan.” She reached for her spoon, but Josh hung on tight.

“Uh…Em,” he began cautiously. “Who is Baby Cakes?”

“The baby, Josh.”

“Baby?” he repeated as if he’d never heard the word before, making her laugh.

“
My
baby, Josh.” Maternal pride glowed in her face as he gaped at her in utter shock. “I’m having a baby, Josh.” Reaching for his hand, she placed it on her slightly swollen belly. He snatched it back as if she’d stuck it into a burning flame.

“You’re having a
baby?
” he repeated in alarm, glancing at her belly.
“Now?”

“Well, thankfully not at the moment,” she said with another laugh. “I’m a bit worn-out today, but the doctor says Baby Cakes should be arriving in about four months—give or take a week.”