Dear Emily (31 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Dear Emily
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Seeing her moist lips part and offer themselves to him, he lowered his mouth to hers, touching her lips, tasting their sweetness, drawing a kiss, gentle, yet passionate. Searing flames licked her body; the pulsating beat of her heart thundered in her ears.

When he stepped away, his arms dropping to his sides, his eyes searched hers. What he saw reassured him.

Emily closed the distance between them with one forward step. She kissed him then as she had never kissed another man, a kiss so deep with longing and yearning she felt her knees grow weak. Her head buzzed with emotions she’d thought were gone forever. She knew then, in that one dizzying moment, that this man belonged to her, for however long their time would be together. She had finally found a man who could make her feel like the woman she wanted to be.

“Tell me you want me to make love to you,” Matt whispered.

“Yes, yes, make love to me, here, now.” Her voice was deep, singing with desire, a voice that was new to Matt and new to her too.

He tore away his clothes, eager to be naked against her, wanting the warmth of her touch on his body. Rolling over on his back, he took her with him, trailing his fingers down the length of her spine and returning over and over again to the roundness of her bottom. He invited her touch, inspired her caresses, always watching her in the dim moonlight filtering into the room, reveling in the heavy-lidded smoldering in her eyes. He wanted her to take pleasure in him, wanted her to find him worthy of her finely tuned passions. Did he please her, he wondered as she smoothed the flat of her palms over his chest, her fingertips gripping and pulling at the thicket of hair. Her mouth found his nipples, licking, tasting, lowering her explorations to the tautness of his belly and the hardness of his thighs. He reveled in her touch, in the expression of her eyes as he took her face in his hands and held it for his kiss.

Putting her beneath him once again, he kissed the sweetness of her mouth, her eyes, the soft curve of her jaw. Her breasts awakened beneath his kisses, and she arched beneath his touch.

She sought him with her lips, possessed him with her hands, her own passions growing as she realized the pleasure she was giving him. The hardness of his sex was somehow tender and vulnerable beneath her hand as she felt it quiver with excitement and desire…for her. His hands never left her body, seeking, exploring, touching…she wanted to lie back and render herself to him, touch him, commit him to memory and know him as she had never known another man. Instead of being alien to her, his body was as familiar to her as her own. She felt her body sing with pleasure and she knew her display of passion was food for his.

Emily was ravaged by the hunger he created in her. She wanted to feel him inside her, joining with her, bringing her to her own release. “Matt,” she breathed, imploring him with her eyes, feeling as though she would die if he did not enter her, yet hating to put an end to the excruciating pleasure.

He put himself between her opened thighs, his eyes devouring her as she lay waiting for him. Her soft hair reflected the silver of the moon, her skin was bathed in a sleek sheen that emphasized her womanly curves and enhanced the contact between their flesh. He sat back on his heels, his gaze locking with hers as his hands moved over her body. Emily met his eyes, unashamedly, letting him see the hungers that dwelled there and the flutter of her lashes that mirrored the trembling in her loins. His hands slipped to her sex and she cried out softly, arching her back to press herself closer against his gently circling fingers. “You’re so beautiful here,” he told her, watching her eyes close and her lips part with a little gasp.

He gentled her passions, fed her desires, brought her to the point of no return, and smiled tenderly when she sobbed with the sweetness of her passions. She climaxed beneath his touch, uttering her surprise, whispering his name. His hands eased the tautness of her thighs, kneading the firmness of her haunches and smoothing over her belly.

When she thought the sensation too exquisite to be surpassed, he leaned forward, driving himself into her, filling her with his pulsating masculinity. Her body strained beneath his, willing itself to partake of his pleasure, to be his pleasure. The fine hairs of his chest rubbed against her breasts. His mouth took hers, deeply, lovingly. His movements were smooth as he stroked within her, demanding she match his rhythm, driving her once again to the sweetness she knew could be hers.

Her fingers raked his back, feeling the play of his muscles beneath his skin. She found the firmness of his buttocks, holding fast, driving him forward, feeling him buried deep within her. He doubled her delight and she climaxed again, and only then did he rise up, grasping her bottom in his hands and lifting it, thrusting himself into her with shorter, quicker strokes.

Her body was exquisite, her responses delicious, but it was the expression on her lovely face and the delight and pleasure he saw there that pushed him over the edge and destroyed his restraint. The total joy, the hint of disbelief in her clear eyes, the purity of a single tear on her smooth cheek were his undoing. He found relief in her, her name exploding on his lips.

They lay together, legs entwined, her head upon his shoulder as he stroked the softness of her arm and fullness of her breasts. His lips were in her hair, soft, teasing, against her brow. “You’re a beautiful lover,” he breathed, tightening his embrace, delighting in the intimacy between them.

“So are you,” Emily murmured.

“Would it surprise you, Emily, if I told you I think I’m falling in love with you?”

“Would it surprise you, Matt, if I told you the same thing?”

“I guess that means we’re halfway in love.”

“Sounds good to me,” Emily said, snuggling as close to him as she could. They slept, each dreaming of the other.

Chapter 19

I
t was late when Emily woke. She remembered instantly all the details of the previous evening. Her arm snaked out to touch the pillow Matt had slept on. He was gone, but she knew that. She rolled over, burying her face in the pillow. His body scent was faint, but noticeable. She took a deep breath before she stretched like a cat.

It was going to be another beautiful day with a cloudless sky and warm breezes. A glance at the little traveling clock on the nightstand told her she’d slept through breakfast and it was almost time for lunch. It didn’t matter in the least; she wasn’t hungry. She was hungry only to feast her eyes on Matt Haliday.

Was it possible she was in love with the ranger? In so short a time? All the slick magazines, all the love stories on television told about eyes meeting across a room and then boom, everyone rode off into the sunset and lived happily ever after. Yeah, well, things like that didn’t happen to the Emily Thorns of this life.

Emily bounded from the bed like a teenager. She showered, dressed, and was on her front porch ready to feed the squirrels and rabbits. The moment she finished and pulled the last weed from the flowers on the porch, she was running down the trail to the recreation building to call the hospital. Perhaps she could pick Rosie up.

“Mrs. Finneran was discharged an hour ago,” the charge nurse said happily.

Emily clapped her hands. How wonderful. Now she could sit for hours and talk to Rosie about Matt. Providing she wanted to listen. What to do now? Call home, talk to her friends; Ben. Ben. She owed them all a phone call. The basket of mail on her dresser from all of them was still unopened. It was sinful that she’d been so lax.

Her calling card in hand, Emily placed a call first to Ben. Her happiness sizzled over the wire as she announced herself. “How’s it all going, Ben?”

“It’s going. Obviously things are going well for you too. I don’t think I ever heard you sound so happy. Or are you drunk on the scent of the pine trees? Nah, that can’t be it. You must have made friends with the four-legged creatures roaming about. What
do
you do there all day?”

“This and that. The hours seem to fly by. I’ve made some friends. In fact one of them is on her way home from the hospital as we speak.” She told him about Rosie’s operation and getting lost on the trail. “You should see my face, Ben. It looks like a peanut butter and jelly open-faced sandwich. I was so stiff for a few days, I could barely walk. I’m fine now, though.”

“For God’s sake, Emily. What ever possessed you to go hiking like that? You aren’t exactly the outdoor type. Something serious could have happened to you.”

There was such worry and concern in Ben’s voice, Emily felt a wave of guilt wash over her. “Nothing happened to me. I’m the outdoor type now. I love it, Ben. You can’t believe how busy I am, how I fill up my days.”

“When are you coming back, Emily? It’s almost the end of August. I miss you. Your friends miss you too. Martha called off her…whatever it was she had with that old geezer. Seems he was looking for a nurse to take care of him; not that Martha is a nurse. He’s due for some kind of serious surgery. But then I guess you know all about that; she said she wrote you a long letter.”

“Hmmmnn,”
was all Emily could think of to say.

“Are you so busy, Emily, that you couldn’t call or write?”

Damn, his voice sounds so sad, so weary, Emily thought guiltily. “No, Ben, I just needed to…I guess I didn’t want to have any kind of responsibility for a while. No pressures, if you know what I mean. I don’t have a phone here, Ben. I have to go to the recreation hall. Besides, phone calls are frowned on. There’s no one to run messages back and forth.” How lame her voice sounded.

“Do you miss us at least a little bit? Me in particular.”

“I do and I don’t,” Emily said truthfully. “I do think of all of you. You’re all well, things are going well too, right?”

“Of course.”

“See, I’m expendable. I really think I’m going to stay on awhile longer. It’s still nice here through October. They tell me September is beautiful.”

“Did you tell your friends you weren’t coming back on Labor Day? They’re planning a big barbecue. Lots of clients, friends, etc. As of last night they were still under the assumption you were coming back on schedule.”

“Are you trying to make me feel guilty, Ben?”

“Yes.”

“Well, stop it because it isn’t going to work. I could see it if I was needed, but I’m not. And don’t tell me I’m slacking off either.”

“You sound defensive,” Ben said coolly.

“You’re making me sound this way, Ben. You and I had an agreement. I never made any promises. I’m sorry if this call has upset you. I will call the women and talk to them and explain why I’m staying on for a while. Good-by, Ben, it was nice talking to you. Take care of yourself. I’ll drop you a line this week.” As she finished speaking, she broke the connection with her index finger hovering over the bracket.

The happiness was gone now, replaced with guilt.

She was scuffing her way back down the trail to her cabin, her eyes on the ground, when she heard a sharp whistle. She turned. “Matt!”

He looks embarrassed, she thought. “Whatcha got in the sack?”

“Lunch. I brought some meatball sandwiches from home. Want to sit on your porch and eat them?”

“I’d love to. I have some soft drinks inside. I love picnics.”

“I do too. Listen, tonight is the fish fry. Sister Tiny asked me if Molly will help. I said she probably would. I have to pick them up in town at three o’clock. I thought maybe we could all eat together. Ivan and Rosie, my kids, you and me. I’d like you to get to know my kids. Are you up to it?”

“Absolutely. I can’t wait to get Rosie settled in. I would have picked her up, but when I called, they said she’d been discharged and Ivan was bringing her here. I’ll look forward to it. These are, ah…tasty,” Emily said, biting into the meatball sandwich.

“Tell the truth. They taste like hard rubber spiced with parsley.”

“That too. I missed you when I woke up.”

“I hated to leave. You’re nice to sleep with.”

“So are you. I decided to stay on awhile longer, at least till the end of September. I think Rosie is going to stay on too.”

“You’ll pretty much have the place to yourself for September. Mostly everyone leaves either the day before or the day after Labor Day. For some reason October is busy. Harvest moons, pumpkins brought up from town, the changing of the leaves. Cooler weather. The sisters get a reprieve. They work very hard, but then I guess you noticed that. By the way, Sister Tiny really did a number on her ankle yesterday. She stepped into a gopher hole. They took her to the doctor and he said she had to stay off it for a week or so. That’s why they need Molly tonight. You smell good,” he blurted out.

“I could smell your body scent in the bed when I woke up,” Emily said, meeting Matt’s gaze. “Are you off this weekend?”

Matt nodded. “I promised to go to Benjy’s soccer practice and Molly wants to go roller skating. Weekends are pretty busy. I don’t usually have them off, and when I do, I have to cram everything I can into the hours.”

“I see,” Emily said.

“What are you going to do?” He crumpled up the wax paper and napkin. He reached for hers and stuffed it into the paper bag he was holding.

“Read, spend time with Rosie. Call home. Help out if the sisters need me. I never have a problem filling up my hours. Maybe I’ll go into town with Rosie and take in a movie.”

“Will you miss me?”

Of course she would. Right now she wished she had magical powers so she could stuff herself into Matt’s pocket and be with him all day. “Probably not,” she lied. “How about you?”

“Probably not.”

“Liar!” Emily laughed.

Matt looked chagrined. “Did you lie too?”

“No,” she lied again. “Come on, I’ll walk you over to your vehicle. Then I’m going over to see Rosie.”

When they reached the jeep, Emily waved airily and sprinted down the trail, a smile on her face. He was going to kiss her, but on the off chance she read his intentions wrong, she took off.

“Rosie! When did you get home?”

“About half an hour ago. It’s great to be back. I’m going to sit here all day and let people wait on me.”

“What people?” Emily asked, looking around. “Where’s Ivan?”

“He went fishing. He dumped me off. Actually, he carried me up to the porch. Don’t go reading anything into any of this. He’s not the least bit interested in me. He visited me every day. I think he felt responsible for me for some reason. He is
borrrrrriinnnng.
All he wanted to talk about was trees, animals, and fish. And Matt and his kids. I pretended to fall asleep so he’d leave.”

“And I thought—”

“Sister Phillie brought down a pitcher of lemonade and some cookies. It’s inside. They said they’d bring lunch and dinner too.”

“I can do that. Matt told me Sister Tiny hurt her ankle and his daughter is going to help out with the fish fry tonight. If they have a wheelchair, I can wheel you up. It’s too far for you to walk. They’re going to be shorthanded. How do you feel, Rosie?”

“Good. I get twinges, but the doctor said it’s gas. I must be the stupidest person in the world. How can you not know gas from appendicitis?”

“I don’t know if I would. It’s over and done with—you’re okay, I’m okay. Let’s not look back. I did enough of that these past years. Listen, have I got something to tell you. You aren’t going to believe this. I hardly believe it. I keep pinching myself. Listen…”

“Oh, my God!” Rosie said when Emily told her about the night before. “That’s wonderful. It is wonderful, isn’t it?”

“I think so. He wants me to meet the kids tonight. I met them before, but I think this is different. I wonder what they’re going to think.”

“The little girl is sweet. The sisters adore her. The boy, he’s rather sullen, fretful if you follow me. Four or five years ago Matt…well, he made friends with a woman who was here named Angela. She really liked him and he seemed to like her too. Whatever there was ended as quickly as it began. Supposedly she told someone who told someone else who told me, that the boy didn’t like her and refused to even be polite. That was the end of that. It’s a rumor and I probably shouldn’t even repeat it. I’d hate to see you get hurt, Emily. Matt takes his parenting very seriously, as well he should.”

Emily frowned. “Are you trying to tell me I have to suck up to some nine-year-old kid?”

“Yep, I guess that’s what I’m telling you. From everything I’ve heard, Matt’s kids, the boy especially, rule his personal life.”

“That’s terrible.” A worm of fear skittered around inside her stomach. “I think you just scared me, Rosie. I like Matt. In fact, I think it goes beyond
like.
What should I do?”

“Nothing,” Rosie said emphatically. “Be yourself. If Matt feels the way you do and if he’s willing to allow his son to botch up your relationship, and I’m not saying the boy will do it, but if he does, then Matt isn’t worth much, is he? If Benjy…that’s his name, right?” Emily nodded. “Well, if Benjy has a problem, it probably stems from his mother’s death, but that was a long time ago. Matt should have taken him for counseling or something. The schools back home are big on picking up on stuff like that. Maybe it was easier for Matt
not
to deal with it. There might not be a problem at all and we’re worrying over nothing.” Her voice belied her words.

“Baggage.”

“I beg your pardon.”

“Baggage, Rosie. That’s a slang expression people use when a relationship is under way and there’s a wife or children in the background. They refer to them as baggage. It sounds terrible, I admit, but true nonetheless. What…what if he hates me? Kids of nine are pretty smart, aren’t they?”

“I’d say so. Manipulative too. I would have thought it would be the girl. Girls are so protective of a parent. But she may relate better and she might be looking for a stepmother.”

“Who said anything about marriage?” Emily yelped.

“Relationships, if they’re serious, usually lead toward marriage. Don’t go coy on me, Emily. I’m sure you’ve thought about it. Fantasized maybe.” She smiled at Emily’s flushed face.

“Want to play Scrabble?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, I’ll walk up and get the game and bring you back something for lunch.”

The two women played Scrabble until three-thirty, when Emily called a halt. “I think you need to take a nap and I’m going to go for a bike ride. I’ll be back by five-thirty. I asked about a wheelchair and the sisters said someone would have it down here by five forty-five. Once you get there, you can walk around. Okay?”

Rosie nodded. “Emily?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t spend too much time thinking about all of this. If it’s meant to be, it will be. Sister Gussie’s philosophy. Do what you did that night on the trail; think about that inspiration class we went to.”

“Good idea. See you later.”

Back at her cabin, Emily rummaged in the dresser drawer for the list of inspirational sayings and stuffed it into the pocket of her shorts. Thirty, or was it forty, suggestions on how to find inspiration in everyday life. Like she was really going to put food coloring in her bath water. With no bathtub on the premises, that one wasn’t going to be hard to discount. There was no problem with admiring herself or dreaming a little. She knew them all—why she’d brought the list was a mystery, she thought as she pedaled along, her mind half on Matt, half on the sayings in her pocket. Do something new and different every day. Yeah, sure. Change your moods like clothes. Well, hell, that wasn’t hard to do; she did that automatically. The one that was going to give her the most trouble was refusing to sit still for negative thoughts. She was going to have to ask one of the sisters how she should exercise her soul. Was that even possible? If she had a favorite of all the suggestions, she supposed it was the one that said, Let the world heal you. She’d tried that now for years and it seemed to be working.

Emily stopped her bike an hour later, looked at the uphill bike trail, and climbed off. She sat down, cross-legged, and lit a cigarette. She still hadn’t given up the filthy things. Maybe she never would.

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