Robin Lee Hatcher (22 page)

“They ought to be home soon.” Gavin stroked the wolfhound’s head. “Too quiet around here when they’re gone, isn’t it?”

Joker groaned, as if in understanding.

Gavin returned his gaze to the fire, his thoughts drifting as he watched the hypnotic flickering of the flames. He remembered the way Emily had looked the day of Shane O’Donnell’s wedding. She’d fit right in at Killarney Hall, perfectly suited to one day be its mistress. She fit in there much better than here. It was a truth he’d always known, right from the first time he saw her in Boise City. But he no longer wanted it to be true.

He shouldn’t have kissed her. That had been a grave mistake on his part. The moment he’d heard she was to marry Patrick he should have walked away. He’d never expected her to stay anyway. Never wanted her to stay. Dru had wanted it, and he’d let that confuse him. That was all.

Patrick was a good sort, not to mention he was as rich as King Midas, thanks to his late father’s success in the gold fields. Emily would be happy with Patrick. What woman wouldn’t be happy, living in the lap of luxury? Wouldn’t he want the same for his daughters?

“She won’t need a big wedding,” Emily had told him as they’d watched Sabrina’s heartbreak over Trevor. “All that will matter to her is that she loves the groom and that her family is with her.”

Gavin shook his head. Easy enough for Emily to say. After all, she would soon be married to the head of the O’Donnell clan.

“Look, Miss Harris!” Petula cried from the back of the sleigh, her voice filled with excitement. “Look at the deer!”

As Emily twisted around, she saw Petula jump onto the seat, her arm pointing behind them. “Sit down, Pet. You shouldn’t be — ”

Before the warning was all the way out of Emily’s mouth, the sleigh jerked hard to the right. With a scream, the child bounced over the back of the sleigh.

“Patrick, stop!”

He pulled back on the reins.

The moment the sleigh came to a rest, Emily shoved off the lap robe and jumped to the ground. She stumbled in the snow, falling to her knees. “Pet!” She scrambled to her feet and raced back along the sleigh tracks.

“My arm,” Pet whimpered. “My arm hurts, Miss Harris. It hurts bad.”

Before Emily could lift the girl into her arms, Patrick’s hand on her shoulder stopped her. “Don’t move her yet. Let me have a look first.”

“Is she gonna be all right?” Sabrina came to stand next to Emily. Her face was ashen, her eyes frightened as she whispered, “She’s not gonna die, is she?”

Emily dropped to her knees and hugged Sabrina. “No, Brina. Pet’s going to be fine. You’ll see.” She understood the child’s fear. Both her father and her mother had been taken from her in a short period of time. It wasn’t surprising that she might fear an accident would take Petula from her as well.

Patrick turned toward Emily. “I believe her arm’s broken. It doesn’t look right to me.” He frowned. “We’re almost to the ranch. I’ll take you there, then head for town to get the doctor.”

Petula continued to whimper in pain as Patrick lifted her from the ground and carried her toward the sleigh, Emily and Sabrina close on his heels. As soon as Emily was seated, he passed the child into her waiting arms, then hurried around to the opposite side and got in. Moments later, they were hurtling across the frosty countryside.

“It hurts,” Petula said amidst her sobs.

“I know, Pet. But it won’t hurt for long. We’re almost home, and then we’ll get you taken care of.”

Gavin stepped through the doorway at the same moment the sleigh pulled into the yard. Perhaps it was the expression on their faces or the hectic way they’d arrived, but he seemed to know something was amiss even before his gaze fell on the whimpering little girl in Emily’s arms.

“What happened?”

Emily answered, “Pet fell. We think her arm is broken.”

“It hurts, Pa.”

Gavin took the child from Emily. “We’ll get it fixed, Pet. Hold on. We’ll take care of it.”

Emily and Sabrina disembarked and followed Gavin toward the house.

“I’ll be back with the doctor as quick as I can,” Patrick called to them.

Once inside, Gavin laid Petula on the bed in the children’s room, propping her head with a pillow. Emily removed the girl’s shoes before pulling a comforter over her legs.

“We need to take your coat off,” Gavin said.

“No, Pa. It’ll hurt too much. I don’t wanna move it.” Petula squeezed her eyes shut. “It hurts bad.”

Gavin’s gaze met Emily’s. She felt the same helplessness she saw in his eyes. “We could cut it off,” she suggested softly.

“It’s her only coat.”

His reply felt like a slap, and she wanted to sit and cry along with Petula.

“Children mend mighty quick from a thing like this.” Dr. Forester led the way out of the children’s bedroom. “She’ll have some pain at first, but her arm will heal up fine. Just keep her quiet until it’s good and mended.”

“For how long?”

“About six weeks. Maybe not even that long. Children tend to heal faster than adults.”

Gavin tried to imagine Petula staying still for six weeks. “Easier said than done.”

Dr. Forester chuckled. “Do the best you can.” He turned toward Emily, who stood just outside Petula’s bedroom. “The laudanum should help her sleep for several more hours. Watch the clock and don’t give her more until I said.”

“I’ll be careful. Thank you.”

The doctor faced Patrick. “Well, Mr. O’Donnell, since you insisted on bringing me here, I’m afraid you’ll have to drive me back to Challis. But if you don’t mind, could we try a more sedate pace? I’m an old man.”

Patrick chuckled as he looked past Gavin to Emily. “I’ll be back in a day or two to look in on the wee lass. You take care of yourself.”

Gavin thought Patrick would have liked to say more, if the moment and place had been more private. As it was, he simply nodded again and pushed his hat onto his head as he followed the doctor out the door. Gavin went with them and waited until they’d pulled out of the yard before going back inside. He stopped in the doorway to the children’s bedroom.

Seated in Emily’s lap, Sabrina said, “Stay with us tonight, Miss Harris. Please. I don’t wanna be alone with Pet. What if she wakes up and starts crying again?”

“Of course I’ll stay. I’ll make my bed on the floor so I’ll be close if either of you needs me.” As if sensing Gavin’s presence, she looked toward the doorway. “That is, if it’s all right with your father.”

He wasn’t sure it was all right. He wasn’t sure he wanted Emily Harris under the same roof, both day and night. He had enough trouble sleeping as it was. She already haunted his thoughts. But he couldn’t think of his own comfort at a time like this. He had to think of Sabrina and Petula. They wanted Emily nearby. They loved her. Trusted her. Needed her.

“You won’t have to sleep on the floor,” he said. “I’ll set up a cot. I imagine they’ll want you in here for a while.” Gavin turned on his heel and left.

“Miss Harris, may I have a few words with you before you retire?”

Emily tucked the blanket over Sabrina’s shoulders before straightening and turning toward the bedroom doorway. “Of course, Mr. Blake. I’ll be right with you.”

Gavin disappeared from view, but Emily waited a few moments to calm her rattled nerves. It had been a stressful day, meeting Patrick’s brothers, then Petula’s accident. Her emotions had swung on a pendulum, from one extreme to another. She wasn’t sure she had the strength to be alone with Gavin right now, but what choice did she have?

He waited for her before the fireplace, hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers, firelight flickering behind him. A lamp on a side table provided the only other illumination in the room.

“Miss Harris, I need to apologize to you.”

“Apologize?”

“For the other night.”

Her heart skipped a beat as she remembered that brief time in his arms.

“It shouldn’t have happened.”

He didn’t explain what “it” was. He didn’t need to.

“It isn’t my business who you choose to marry. I’m grateful that you’ll continue to care for Brina and Pet until that time comes.”

“I promised I would.”

“And you keep your promises, don’t you, Miss Harris?”

“Yes.”

He took a step forward.

She took a step back.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he said, so low she almost didn’t hear him.

I’m not afraid of you, Gavin.
Her heart tripped again.
I’m afraid
of myself.

“Good night, Mr. Blake.” She turned toward the safety of the children’s bedroom.

“Good night, Miss Harris.”

Another snowstorm blew in from the northwest during the night. Emily lay on her cot in the children’s bedroom and listened to the mournful wail of the wind, a sound indicative of the way she felt. Lonely. Hollow. Empty. Despairing.

Oh, God . . .

As those words — a pitiful cry for divine help — drifted into her thoughts, she was forced to admit how long it had been since she’d tried to pray. Really pray. Had she sought God’s will before she accepted Patrick’s proposal? Had she looked for answers in his Word before deciding to take this job or promising Dru she would stay until spring? Had she asked for God’s help when it came to her feelings about Gavin? Or had she simply rushed headlong into life and then hoped God would clean up her mistakes in the aftermath?

She covered her face with her hands, wishing she could go back in time and start over. What a poor Chris tian she was. What a terrible witness. She’d much rather be like Dru. The woman’s faith had been so strong, and never once had Dru ceased to pray for those she loved. Emily had learned much from her in the two months they’d lived together.

Sleepless, restless, she rose from the cot, drew on her robe, and slid her feet into her slippers. Then she left the bedroom and made her way to the kitchen. Rather than lighting a lamp, she opened the door to the stove and stirred the banked coals to life, adding fuel when it was ready. By the light from the stove’s belly, she filled the kettle with water and set it to heat on the stove, hoping a cup of tea would soothe her spirits.

“Couldn’t sleep, Miss Harris?”