Robin Lee Hatcher (17 page)

She turned toward the sound of Patrick O’Donnell’s voice, grateful for the interruption, thankful for any excuse to escape.

Patrick stood in the solarium doorway, Dru holding his right arm. “We’ve come looking for you both.”

One look at Emily’s face and Dru knew that something had changed between those two. She had almost given up hope in the weeks they’d been back home. She’d begun to wonder if she’d mistaken Emily’s feelings. But there it was in her eyes, clear as day to anyone who had eyes to see. Could Gavin see it? No, she didn’t think he could.

I must talk to her. I must tell her it’s all right. I must talk to them
both. I cannot wait any longer.

Patrick said, “Gavin, I think Dru would like to go home. She’s feeling tired.”

Gavin moved toward her in an instant. “I was afraid this would be too much for you.”

“It wasn’t too much for me,” she lied. “It did me good to be here. But it is growing late, and I would prefer to arrive home before dark.”

Emily said, “I’ll get the children and meet you in the front hall.” Then she hurried out of the solarium as fast as decorum allowed.

God, please don’t let me be too late. I feel certain she is the one
you mean to love my daughters and to love Gavin. Please don’t let me
be too late.

Sixteen

It was nearly dark by the time the family arrived home, the first stars already visible in the east. Dru stirred and lifted her head from Emily’s shoulder as the wagon rolled to a stop in front of the house. Gavin jumped down from the wagon seat, then took his wife in his arms and carried her inside.

Emily turned to look behind her. “Wake up, sleepyheads. We’re home. Let’s get you inside and into your own bed.”

Sabrina groaned and rolled onto her side beneath the blankets, snuggling closer to her sleeping little sister.

Emily reached down and gently shook the older girl’s shoulder. “We’re home, Brina. Time to get inside. It’s cold out here.” Holding her skirt out of the way, she stepped down from the wagon and went to the back of the vehicle, waiting for Sabrina and Petula to join her there.

They didn’t budge. She was about to climb into the wagon bed when Gavin reappeared.

“You’ll ruin that pretty dress of yours, Miss Harris,” he said, stopping her. Then he hopped into the back of the wagon. He lifted Petula first.

“Give her to me, Mr. Blake. I’ll carry her inside while you get Brina.”

He hesitated a moment, and she felt him watching her. What was he thinking? She wished she knew.

He knelt on one knee and passed the child from his arms to hers. Emotion formed a lump in her throat as she carried Petula into the house. This all felt too right. The four of them home from an outing, the children tired, her carrying them to bed with Gavin.

Only there weren’t just four of them. There were five — and she was the fifth. She was the one who didn’t belong.

Once in the children’s bedroom, Emily sat on the edge of the bed and helped Petula out of her coat, shoes, and dress while Gavin did the same with her sister on the opposite side of the bed. Although still half asleep, Petula managed to sit up and raise her arms when told to. But the instant her nightgown slid over her head, she turned and crawled under the covers, her arms clutching her pillow close. Emily leaned down, straightened the blankets over her shoulders, and kissed the girl on the forehead.

“Good night, Pet,” she whispered.

When she straightened, she saw Gavin drawing the covers over Sabrina. As Emily had done with Petula, he leaned low to kiss Sabrina’s forehead.

“Sleep tight,” he said.

Emily’s heart beat an odd rhythm in her chest. Oh, how she wished —

No, she wouldn’t wish it. She wouldn’t think it.

“I’ll walk you to your cabin, Miss Harris, and make sure you’ve got a fire for the night.”

“It . . . it isn’t necessary. I can — ”

“I’ve got to unhitch the team anyway. It’s no bother.”

It would have been easier if he’d stayed angry with her. It would have been better if she’d remembered she didn’t even like him much.

They walked in silence toward Emily’s one-room cabin. When they entered it, they discovered the temperature inside was nearly as cold as outside, the fire in the stove having long since burned down to a few coals. Gavin built it back up in no time.

Dru knelt beside the bed, hands folded, head bowed.

“Help Gavin, Lord. Draw him by your Spirit. Teach him to trust you. Touch his heart and heal it.”

Tears splashed onto her knuckles, then slid slowly over her fingers to the comforter beneath her hands.

“When I’m gone, Lord, knit a new family together. Bring this house alive with love. It’s seen too much heartache already. I want my girls to be happy. I know that Gavin and Emily care for each other, but they’re trying so hard not to care because of me.”

She drew a deep breath as she looked toward the ceiling.

“I haven’t gone about this the right way. Help me make it right before I go.”

Gavin turned from the stove. Emily stood in the center of the room, clutching her coat collar close about her throat, her face lit by the firelight from the open stove door.

“It should warm up in here pretty fast,” he said.

She nodded.

He glanced about the darkened room. “Do you have everything you need?”

“Yes.”

He cleared his throat. “Listen, I know I haven’t been . . . I’ve been a bit gruff with you since we left the basin. I . . . I’d like to say I’m sorry. It isn’t your fault.”

“It’s all right, Mr. Blake. I understand.”

He doubted she did. For that matter, he wasn’t sure he understood himself. The reason seemed to shift from day to day, moment to moment. Was it because he thought her too much like his mother, selfish and spoiled and desiring an easier life, one she could have with her prosperous sister and brother-in-law in Boise? Or was it because Patrick O’Donnell had showed interest in her? O’Donnell, who could give her that easier life right here in the Challis area. Or was it because Gavin found her so tender with the children, so gentle with Dru, so full of life and laughter? So irresistible, when all reason and all rules of common decency told him he should not find her so.

“I’d better take care of the horses.”

In three strides he could reach her. In three steps he could gather her in his arms and pull her close and kiss those sweet lips. Everything inside screamed for him to do just that, but somehow he managed to turn on his heel and walk away from her.

“Good night, Miss Harris.”

“Good night, Mr. Blake,” he heard her say as he pulled the door closed behind him.

He’d lost his mind. That was the only explanation for the things he felt, for the things he wanted. He’d lost any shred of common sense, and Emily Harris was responsible for it.

Seventeen

Emily dreamed that Gavin had kissed her. She dreamed he’d held her close and whispered words of love. She dreamed that he’d stayed with her. Dreams that seemed real and possible. Dreams that made her feel guilty, even in sleep.

After dressing the following morning, she checked her reflection in the mirror atop the bureau and pinched her cheeks between forefingers and thumbs, trying to put a hint of color in her pale complexion. But there was nothing she could do about the look of shame in her eyes.

“I’m a horrible person,” she whispered. “How could I let this happen?”

What she wanted was to crawl back into bed and stay there all day. But she couldn’t. She had obligations to Dru and to the children. She’d given her word that she would take care of them, and despite the fragile state of her heart, she wouldn’t let them down.

Oh, Maggie, I wish you were here. You could tell me what to do.

At the door, she took her cloak from the peg and threw it over her shoulders.

Gavin . . .
His name echoed in her heart.

Pulling the hood over her head, she opened the cabin door and hurried toward the main house. Just as her hand touched the latch, she heard the clatter of hooves and turned to see Gavin ride his gelding out of the barn. If he saw her there, he never let on.

Just as well.

She lifted the latch and entered the kitchen.

“Look what you did!” Sabrina’s shrill cry brought Emily up short.

Before her stood Petula, already in tears, egg yolks spotting her leggings and broken shells surrounding her feet.

Emily shrugged off her cloak and hurried forward. “Don’t cry, Pet. We can clean this up in no time.”

“Ma wanted an egg for breakfast,” Sabrina said, glowering at her sister. “And Pet just broke the last of them. The hens won’t lay any more until tomorrow. Pet ruined Ma’s breakfast.”

The younger girl began to sob. “I . . . I did . . . didn’t mean . . . mean to drop them.”

Emily pushed tangled brown hair away from the child’s face as she knelt beside her, unmindful of the gooey mess on the floor. She kissed Petula’s cheek. “Hush now. Shh. Your mother will understand. We’ll make her something she’ll like much better than eggs.”

“What?” Petula sniffed, then rubbed her sleeve beneath her nose.

“I don’t know. Why don’t I go ask her?” She gave the girl an encouraging smile as she rose to her feet. “Brina, would you please help Pet clean up the floor while I see what will tempt your mother’s appetite?”

Sabrina looked none too happy, but she nodded in agreement.

“Miss . . . Miss Harris?” Petula pointed. “Look.”

Emily’s gaze dropped to her skirt, the pale blue wool now stained yellow. “Don’t worry, Pet. It will clean.” She wasn’t sure that was true, but she couldn’t bear it if Petula started to cry again.

She turned and walked to Dru’s bedroom. As she paused before the door, memories of last night’s dreams came rushing back — and with them, the guilt. If only she could take her dreams and thoughts into captivity as the Bible commanded her to do.

She leveled her shoulders, drew a deep breath, and pushed open the door. “Dru?” The room was shrouded in shadows.

“Is everything all right out there?” The woman’s voice was barely more than a whisper.

“Yes.” Emily crossed the room. “Just a little tiff between sisters.” She stopped beside the bed. “But I’m afraid there won’t be any eggs for breakfast. Pet dropped them.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Dru released a sigh. “I doubt I could have eaten more than a bite.”

“I saw Mr. Blake ride out. Will he be back for breakfast?”

“No. He’ll be gone the better part of the day.”

Emily frowned. “Should he have left you alone?”

“I told him to go. I knew you would be in soon. I was hoping we could talk, you and I, and sometimes men are just underfoot.”

“We can talk as much as you like.” It seemed to Emily that the woman in the bed had withered away to nothing. “But you should try to eat something first.”

“Perhaps later. Come back after the girls have their breakfast. There are things I need to say.”

“Of course, Dru. Whatever you’d like.”

“I’ll just close my eyes and rest until you return. I’m so tired today.”