The Hopechest Bride (16 page)

“Oh, really?” Emily said, pulling away from Martha's gentle touch. “Well, I'm not ready for that yet, let me tell you! I'm mad, Martha. I'm really, really mad at him.” Her shoulders slumped. “It's easier to be mad at him.”

Martha gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I'll go cut up those vegetables, Emily, and you go wash your face, maybe take a walk, all right?”

Emily touched her cheeks, realized they were wet. “Oh, Josh Atkins,” she said, shaking her head, “you don't know how lucky you are that you're not here, because if you were, I'd brain you with a turkey leg.”

“Well,” Martha remarked to the empty room,
watching Emily stomp away, “I suppose there's all sorts of progress.”

 

All three leaves had been added to the already massive dining room table, and two smaller tables had been set up in the entryway between the dining and living rooms. Silver platters and dishes piled with food lined two buffet tables, and everyone filled their plates, then found their assigned seats, saving Inez and the other kitchen helpers a lot of bother.

Emily sat with Joe, Jr. and Teddy and Max, as well as Amber and Tripp, who had taken pity on her, so that Amber made sure to put their place cards alongside her sister.

“Max is Emily's date,” Teddy said with a giggle, his hair still damp from the shower he and all the other “boys” had been forced to take before they could come to dinner. “Joe told me so.”

“I'm not old enough to have a date,” Max said with a seriousness that belied his years. “But if you'd help cut my meat, Aunt Emily, I'll play Nintendo with you after dessert.”

Emily smiled at the boy, tousled his hair. “And
that's
a date, Max,” she said. “Can it be one of those car racing games? I'm pretty good at those.”

“Think you can beat me, do you?” Max sat back, crossed his arms over his small chest, sighed. “Women,” he said, comically sighing and rolling his eyes.

Everyone at the table burst into laughter, the pre
cocious Max having struck again, and Emily actually found the appetite she'd thought she'd lost the past two days.

She was just raising a forkful of stuffing to her mouth when Inez came into the dining room to say that there was a guest come to the back door.

“The kitchen door? Why not the front door?” Joe asked, half rising from his seat at the head of the table. “Who is it, Inez? Did he give you his name?”

“He says he came to the back door, hoping to be able to speak to you or Mrs. Colton. And he says his name is Atkins. Josh Atkins.”

Emily's fork dropped onto her plate with a
clank,
then bounced onto the floor.

“Emily?” Amber asked, touching her sister's arm. “Honey, are you all right? You're white as a sheet.”

“I'm fine, Amber,” Emily heard herself say, knowing how strange her voice sounded to her own ears. “Excuse me. I—I want to get something out of my room.”

“Emily, sit,” Joe said, already heading for the kitchen. In moments he was back, Josh with him, dressed in stovepipe style jeans, a soft blue-and-green striped shirt, his tan suede coat unbuttoned, his black Stetson curled in his hands.

“Everybody, this is Josh Atkins,” Joe said as he took up his place once more, standing behind his chair. “Josh, this is almost everybody. But we can do the introductions later, I think. I'm pretty sure the one you're looking for is over there, at the kiddie table.”

“Yes, sir, thank you, sir,” Josh said, and headed down the length of the table, straight at Emily, who kept her back turned even as she heard his boots on the parquet floor, his spurs jingling with each step he took. “Emily?”

She picked up her napkin, dabbed at the corners of her mouth, wishing her hands weren't shaking so badly. “Josh,” she said, not turning around, not looking at him.

“Could we be more…private?” he asked, the intimate tone of his voice curling her toes inside her shoes.

“Why?” she asked, sitting tight, hanging on to her anger. How dare he just show up, as if he had nothing better to do, so he might as well come by, see if there was any extra turkey.

“Emily…” Josh repeated, this time a warning tone invading his voice. She felt her chair being pulled out, and resisted the juvenile impulse to grab hold of the edge of the table.

She felt stupid, sitting there, her chair pulled away from the table, Joe, Jr. and Teddy and Max looking at her, eyes wide, then looking up at Josh. “Wow, cool,” Max, a resident of Washington, D.C., said at last. “A real cowboy.”

“Come on, Emily,” Josh said, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “We need to talk.”

No, they didn't. Because maybe he'd say he'd come back just to say goodbye. It was one thing, one awful thing, that he'd left. But what if he'd only come
back to tell her he'd thought it all over, and he'd been right, there was no future for them. As long as he was gone, she could believe he might come back and tell her he loved her. But now he was here, and she was frightened, so very frightened.

And angry.

“Took your sweet time getting here, didn't you?” she heard herself ask him. “San Antonio was six days ago.”

“You've been keeping tabs on me? How about that. Why, Emily? Tell me why. Oh, for crying out—Come here,” Josh said, jamming his Stetson down hard on his head. Then he bent down, scooping Emily up and over his shoulder and headed back toward the door to the kitchen.

“Sit down, Rand, Drake,” Meredith said, waving a hand toward her sons, who had risen from their chairs, ready to defend their sister. “River, you and Tripp and the rest of you, too. Can't you see everything's just fine?”

“Just fine?” Rand asked, subsiding into his chair. “You couldn't have proved that by me,” he said as Josh stopped at the head of the table, looked down at Meredith. Emily squirmed against him, but she wasn't saying anything.

“Ma'am,” Josh said, tipping his Stetson at Meredith.

“Maybe you'll be back in time for dessert,” Meredith said, smiling up at him.

“Yes, ma'am, and thank you. I hope you'll excuse us now, ma'am, Senator?”

“You're going to tell her how it's going to be, aren't you, son?” Joe asked, smiling. “Good.”

“Dad!” Emily exclaimed, lifting her head as Josh pushed open the swinging door, headed out through the kitchen. “How can you say such a thing? Josh, put me down! Put me down this instant. Josh, do you hear me, I said—”

The slamming of the kitchen door effectively cut off anything else Emily might have said, and moments later Inez pushed open the swinging door, poked her head into the dining room once more. “He took her outside and put her in his truck, and she didn't try to get out again. They're driving away now.”

“Thank you, Inez,” Joe said, his wife's hand slipping into his, closing tight. “Now how about some champagne? I think we've got some celebrating to do.”

I
t was quiet inside the cab of the truck as Josh steered it through the gates of the Hacienda de Alegria, onto the open road.

He looked over at Emily, secure inside her seat belt. “Aren't you going to ask me where we're going?”

Emily sat, facing front, arms crossed over her chest. “I can't. I'm not talking to you.”

“Oh, well, in that case—”

She cut him off. “How could you
do
that to me? Come waltzing into the house—on Thanksgiving, no less, and right in the middle of dinner—and then just pick me up and carry me out of there?”

“Funny, I thought you weren't talking to me,”
Josh remarked, turning into the drive leading to Sophie and River's ranch house.

“I lied, so sue me, why don't you,” Emily grumbled, then peered through the windshield. “This is Sophie's house. What are we doing at Sophie's house?”

Josh pulled the truck to a stop, cut the ignition. “We're borrowing it, with her permission, I might add. The cave was too far away.”

“Borrow…? We're
borrowing
it?” Emily shook her head, trying to clear it. “And Sophie gave you permission? Oh, I don't believe it! Wait, yes I do. And she never said anything to me. She never said a single word!”

“Unlike her sister, who says she isn't going to say a single word, then starts talking a blue streak. Now, are you coming along willingly, Emily,” he asked, holding up a ring of keys, “or am I going to have to carry you again?”

“River didn't know,” Emily said, pretty much talking to herself as she climbed out of the cab, stepped onto the wide front porch of the house. “He was one of them standing up, ready to come to my rescue while Dad was throwing me to the wolves. Wolf,” she corrected, glaring at Josh's back as he bent to insert the key in the front door.

Josh pushed open the door, reached inside against the wall to flip on the lights. “River didn't know, if River is Sophie's husband, which I'm assuming he is. Nobody knew. Nobody except Sophie, that is.”

“How?” Emily asked, rubbing her arms against
the chill as the warmth of the house reminded her she'd been dragged outside without her coat. “How did Sophie get in on this?”

“I met with her yesterday,” Josh admitted, trying to stop looking at Emily, knowing he must look as if he wanted to eat her up, right now, before he had a chance to tell her, to explain. “I, well, I was here, and trying to figure out how to approach you. You're right, you know, there are one whole hell of a lot of Coltons, and most of them seem to be on the ranch right now.”

“Yes, and you made one really
swell
first impression on all of them a few minutes ago,” Emily said, sniffing. “I wouldn't be surprised if Max asks to take you home with him so he can drag you to school for show and tell.”

Emily was pacing, striding back and forth across the large carpet, clenching and unclenching her hands.

Josh thought she looked magnificent.

“Are you going to let me tell you what you say you want to know, or not?” he asked after a few moments, and Emily stopped, glared at him, then finally subsided onto the couch. “Ah, that's better. I think.”

“Tell me about Sophie,” Emily said, looking at him, yet not quite looking at him, as if she didn't want to see too much of him if he might go away again. As if he'd ever go away again.

“I was parked at the side of the road, outside the gates, trying to figure out how I was going to be able to get you alone, talk to you, and Sophie drove up,
parked behind me. I forgot that my license plate says RODEO RDR,” he explained. “Anyway, your sister saw the license and figured out the rest.”

“That sounds like Sophie,” Emily said, nervously pleating the folds of her soft navy wool skirt. “Go on.”

Josh looked at the chairs, the couch, and then perched himself on the edge of the coffee table, close in front of Emily. “I told her my problem, she said surprise attacks always work best, and we came up with a plan. The Byde-A-Wee Motel just wouldn't cut it, you know, and I needed to be able to take you someplace private. Sophie did say that she hoped I'd talk fast and that you'd listen, wouldn't throw anything, because she really likes her knickknacks, or whatever it is she called them. Now, are we going to go around and around about this, or can I tell you I'm an idiot? A big, stupid, hardheaded idiot.”

Emily turned her head, so that he could only see her in profile. “Emily?”

“You're not an idiot,” she said, so softly he had to lean forward to hear her. “Toby did love me, and that can't be changed. Toby's dead, and that can't be changed, either.”

“True,” Josh said, nodding his head. “All true. And for a while, Emily, that's all I could see. But I see more than that now.”

She turned back to face him. “What do you mean? What's changed?”

“Nothing,” Josh said, a slight, sad smile on his face.

“Oh,” Emily said, trying to rise, but Josh's hands shot out, pushing her back down onto the couch.

“Emily, Toby is gone. I love him, will always love him, but he's gone. We can't change that, and we can't live the rest of our lives denying what's between us. That's no way at all to remember the best brother a man ever had, the best friend you ever had. Toby wouldn't want me to mourn him forever, and he didn't save you so that you could spend the rest of your life alone. That we met, that we…loved, is a good thing, a very good thing. I think Toby would be happy for both of us.”

“Are—” Emily stopped, sighed. “Are you sure?”

“Am I sure I love you?” Josh asked, reaching for her, pulling her into his arms. “Sweetheart, I've never been so sure of anything in my life. What worries me is if you'll want anything to do with a soon-to-be-retired rodeo rider who wants nothing more than to marry you, settle down and raise a bunch of kids.”

Emily's shoulders, which she had been holding stiff, relaxed, her entire expression relaxed, and tears flooded her eyes. “Martha was right,” she said, the unfamiliar name making him frown slightly. “She said I could survive without you, that I could come to terms with everything that's happened, and heal myself. And I've done it. I could go on without you.”

Josh shook his head. “I don't understand.”

Emily's smile deepened, broadened. “Oh, that's all right, darling. You don't have to understand. You just need to know that, even though I
could
go on without
you, I don't want to. I love you, Josh. I've loved you forever.”

 

“How has she been?” Meredith asked the doctor as they stood outside the lounge area where the patients/inmates met with visitors.

The doctor shrugged. “I think we've hit on a good combination of drugs, Mrs. Colton, but your sister can be very inventive in finding ways of not taking them. Still, she's been on her best behavior since your phone call yesterday, telling us about Dr. Hanford here.”

Jewel Mayfair Baylor Hanford stepped forward a pace and smiled at the doctor. “It was good of you to arrange this meeting so quickly, Doctor,” she said. “I know I should have waited, but after so many years, all I could think to do was find the fastest way here from Ohio.”

Meredith squeezed Jewel's hand. The two had met at the ranch, Joe having sent his private plane for her niece only two days after Austin had been satisfied Jewel was definitely Patsy's daughter. Jewel had left her husband and two young children behind in Medford, and planned to fly home again that same evening.

She looked so much like her mother, and like Meredith. There had been no need for DNA tests, and there certainly had been no more questions once Jewel and Meredith had come face-to-face. This was her niece, her sister's daughter. Dr. Jewel Hanford, child psychologist.

“And you're all right with this?” the doctor asked Jewel. “I must say that I was heartened to hear of your background in psychology. It should make things easier all around, although I'm sure nothing about these next few minutes is going to be particularly easy.”

“Which is why I'd like to get them over with as soon as possible,” Jewel said, and Meredith smiled at the hint of velvet steel in her niece's voice. Patsy may have made a terrible mess of her own life, but Jewel was not Patsy. She was strong, yet loving. Highly intelligent and ready to accept whatever she found once that last door between herself and her biological mother was finally opened.

“Yes, yes of course,” the doctor stammered, and inserted a key into the lock, then stood back, allowing Meredith to enter the lounge ahead of him.

“Patsy?” Meredith began, looking at her sister, who was standing at the barred window, her back to the room. She'd lost more weight, and the drab blue wraparound dress hung on her thin shoulders. “Patsy, Jewel's here with me.”

“Saw her,” Patsy bit out, still with her back turned. “Saw the two of you, down there, when you got out of the car. Now get her the hell out of here.”

Meredith looked to Jewel in confusion, hurting for the rejected child.

“It's all right, Mrs. Colton,” Jewel assured her. “Maybe if you just give us a few minutes alone? Doctor? Is that all right with you?”

The doctor looked at her, then finally nodded his
head. “We'll be right outside, and there's a glass in the window, so we can observe.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Jewel said, then smiled reassuringly at her aunt.

Meredith and the doctor retreated to the other side of the door, both of them watching through the wired glass as Jewel stood where she was and Patsy remained, back still turned, at the window.

“What's going on?” Meredith asked. “I don't understand, Doctor. All these years, all Patsy has wanted was to find her daughter.”

“Yes, and now the fantasy has become reality, and she's too ashamed to face that daughter. I said the new combination of antipsychotic drugs seemed to be working. Unfortunately, they're working well enough for your sister to have enough of a grasp on reality to know that her daughter may just reject her now, and with good reason.”

“Oh, poor Patsy,” Meredith said, blinking back tears. “And I thought we'd done a good thing.”

Meredith watched as Jewel slowly took one step forward, then another. Jewel was talking, although Meredith couldn't make out the words, but just the low, reassuring tone of her voice.

Jewel advanced until she was standing directly behind Patsy, and Meredith could see the bone-white of her sister's knuckles as they held on to the bars at the window.

And then, slowly, Patsy turned around. The look on her face made Meredith gasp, for never had she seen such love in her sister's eyes, such hope.

Patsy reached out, laid her palm against Jewel's face, and Jewel lifted her hand, pressed it on top of her mother's. The pair stood there, just that way, for long moments, before Jewel put her arms around her mother and held her close.

Meredith searched in her purse for a handkerchief, then turned away, to give her sister some privacy. “What now, Doctor? What now?”

“I don't know, Mrs. Colton. I'd like to say that Miss Portman will recover, but I think we both know that's impossible. Drugs or not, she's slowly slipping away from us, into a world that shields her from reality and all she's done. The impersonation, the murders, everything. She'll never leave here, Mrs. Colton, and in time, she'll be content to stay, and forget the rest of the world even exists. I'm sorry, but you should know that. Dr. Hanford should know that.”

Meredith looked through the glass, to see Patsy and Jewel sitting side-by-side, Jewel showing Patsy the same family photographs she'd shown her earlier in the day, showing Patsy her grandchildren. Meredith felt her heart break and swell at the same time, her happiness tinged with sadness, yet hope conquering all.

“I think she knows, Doctor. But for now she's found her biological mother and two half brothers. She's found them, and an entire family who will love her and welcome her and her family into our lives. And, strange as it may sound when I say it, with Jewel in our lives now, I've sort of gotten my sister back,
haven't I? So you see, there's a happy ending here, of sorts. Isn't there, Doctor?”

 

“Oh, I just love this dress, Emily,” Sophie said, holding the flowing skirt of her deep burgundy bridesmaid's dress and twirling about in a circle. “I'm so glad if you were only going to have one attendant that you picked me.”

“And you're just lucky I've forgiven you for not telling me Josh was here for a full day and night before he came to see me,” Emily told her, not for the first time. “Here, help me with this necklace, please. Aunt Sybil says I have to wear it, but I can't manage the clasp. I'm
so
nervous.”

“With Aunt Sybil in the house, who isn't?” Sophie joked. “Mom is sure she'll set fire to the place with one of her cigarettes. Hold still,” she went on as Emily bent her knees so that Sophie could drape the antique pearls around her neck. “There, that does it, and not a moment too soon, because here comes Dad to walk you down the aisle.”

Joe Colton had knocked on the open door to Emily's room, stepping inside with all the ease of a man going to face a firing squad. “You're all decent in here, I hope?” he asked, nervously averting his eyes. Meredith had sent him in here, and he wasn't sure he was up to it, up to seeing Emily in her wedding gown.

“Oh, would you look at him, Emily? Dad, you're blushing. Here, look at Emily.”

Joe sighed, then turned his head and looked at his daughter. He saw the little girl who had held his hand,
crawled into his lap, said his whiskers “tick-licked” her when she kissed him good night. “You're beautiful, Emily,” he said, his voice catching in his throat, his face just as red as Meredith had predicted it would be above the tight collar of his tuxedo shirt. “And everybody's waiting, so let's get on with this, okay?”