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“Yes, sir. Or she’ll go to him.”
“Why is she so stubborn? Why can’t she see what he’s really like?”
Jake didn’t think Christian expected answers, but he responded anyway. “She’s stubborn because she’s who she is. We wouldn’t want her any other way. And maybe we’re the ones who don’t know what he’s really like.”
“You’re taking her side?”
Jake shook his head. “I said maybe. But why should she listen to us when we’ve never met him? He’s the only one who’s going to convince her, and he’ll hurt her in the process.”
Christian was silent, and Jake finished caring for his horse. When he left the stall, he found Christian still waiting. “Help me watch her,” Christian said. “She trusts you more than me, right now. Don’t let him take her away where I’ll never see her again.”
Jake considered just how much he should tell his friend. Finally he answered softly. “That’s why I’m here.”
Emily knew it was panic that made her so sharp with her brother and shame that kept her from looking Jake in the eye. Neither of them were to blame for her predicament, and Jake had even tried to help.
She sat on her bed in her room, staring at the moonlight that filtered through the curtains. It was funny how quickly she went from irritated to furious these days. Or from disappointed to fighting tears. She had heard that expectant mothers were emotional; she had witnessed it to a small degree in Lynnette. But it wasn’t proof, she told herself. The strain of worry could have the same effect. And worry could make her feel sick to her stomach.
She lowered her head to her hands. By the time she knew for certain, it would be too late to marry discreetly. Anyone who could count would know that she had fallen.
She sat up straight again, taking a deep breath. Anson would come for her. He loved her. She refused to believe anything else. Her hands shook and she clutched them in her lap. She needed sleep, for herself and for her baby if there was one. All she needed was a good night’s sleep, and she would be fine.
After a light breakfast the next morning, Emily bundled up to take a walk. She knew it was too early for Anson to have gotten her letter and come to meet her, but she decided it would be good to establish a habit of walking every day to avoid arousing anyone’s suspicion.
Martha had been alone in the kitchen when she had gotten a slice of toast, and she assumed Lynnette and the children were downstairs. She was happy to slip out the back door without having to tell Willa she couldn’t go along.
She headed toward the trail on the far side of the barn and suddenly found Jake walking beside her.
“Good morning,” he said, as if there hadn’t been a sharp word uttered the night before. “Mind if I join you?”
“Well, actually—”
“It’s a pretty day for a stroll. Cold but sunny. Are you warm enough?”
“I’m fine. But I really—”
“Good. We wouldn’t want you getting chilled. Don’t you miss these wide-open spaces when you’re in town? I know I do.”
Emily gritted her teeth. He had taken her arm and was walking slowly beside her as if he were her escort. “No,” she said. “What I miss is the solitude.”
“Really? I’m surprised. I never figured you for someone who wanted to be alone a lot. But the country’s good for that, too.”
He was being deliberately obtuse. The only way to get rid of him would be to flat tell him to leave. Of course with Jake, even that might not work.
“I’d like to be alone now, if you don’t mind,” she said. His fingers tightened on her arm when she tried to pull it free.
“We are alone, sweetheart.” His voice was low, almost a seductive whisper.
“Very funny. You know what I mean.”
“Yeah,” he said, continuing to walk beside her. “I know. But you might get lost…”
Emily pointed ahead at the path that wrapped around the hill. It was white where the thin soil had worn away from the limestone and stood out in sharp contrast to the brown and gold grass. “I’m not going to get lost!”
“Or fall and turn your ankle,” he went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “I wouldn’t get anything done for worrying so I might as well come along.”
Emily had to laugh. She wasn’t sure if it was at him or at herself. Well, he could come today, since there was no chance that Anson was waiting. She would have to figure out some way to elude him in the future. Or perhaps he would get used to seeing her walking every day and stop playing the big brother.
“There’s another thing I’ve missed,” he said. “Your laugh.”
“Don’t go getting serious on me, Jake. I get enough of that from everybody else. Little lost Emily who needs to be straightened out.”
“You’ve got a deal. I promise never to be serious.”
If she had hurt his feelings, she couldn’t hear it in his voice. He walked on at the same slow pace, his hand lightly holding her arm. She was about to venture a look at his face when she heard him chuckle. “What?”
“I was just remembering when you were little and came for the summer. Your pa and brothers in the mansion, me and my pa in the little house with Ma the only woman on the place. You turned everybody on his ear. The first time, you were a little bitty thing, about like Willa. Ma wanted you to stay with us. She was sure you’d miss your ma in the night and none of the men up here would know what to do for you. She had Arlen convinced right away, almost convinced your pa. But Christian wouldn’t hear of it. He barely let you out of his sight.”
Emily watched the prairie grasses nod in the light breeze. “You were what, about nine? What did you think of the idea?”
“Oh, I was against it. I figured you were a baby, and I didn’t want some baby crying in the night, waking me up. I kept my mouth shut though, and let Christian do the arguing. After it was settled, and it was safe, I told Ma it had been a fine idea, and I was real sorry you wouldn’t be with us.”
Emily laughed. “You always knew how to get around your ma.”
“Not as well as you could get around Christian. I swear! You would talk me into something, and I’d be in trouble. Do you remember the boat we were going to sail down that stream down there?” He pointed to the valley below where a narrow creek reflected the blue of the sky.
“Oh, Lord. I almost drowned.”
“You didn’t almost drown.” He stopped and turned to face her, his hands on his hips. She choked back a giggle. “You convinced Christian that you had almost drowned so he’d let you off the hook. You know, I missed a trip to town because of your harebrained scheme.”
“If it was so harebrained,” she asked with mock exasperation, “how come you went along with it?”
“Well,” he said, turning to walk at her side again. “I didn’t know it was harebrained until the boat sank. I really thought I could build a boat. I didn’t see how it could be so hard.”
Emily, still smiling, rested her head against his shoulder as she walked. “Dear Jake. You took the blame for other things, too, didn’t you? Like the Indian-war-paint incident and riding the sled down the icehouse roof?”
“Now that one scared me.”
“And then there was the great wilderness adventure.”
Jake groaned. “I’d forgotten that one. We thought if we walked west for a couple days we’d be in the California goldfields. Never mind that we were about twenty years late.”
“I pictured great cornfields growing gold. That’s why I stole Christian’s knife, so I could cut it.”
“Telling Christian that you said you knew the way didn’t seem to keep me out of trouble.”
“Jake, you must have been twelve or thirteen. You should have known better.”
He turned toward her again, all but taking her in his arms. No, it was just her imagination. He was only resting his hands lightly on her shoulders. “That’s just it, Emily,” he said. “I did know better. I always knew better—or usually, anyway. But you could convince me of anything. Emily—”
She took a step away. “You promised not to get serious.”
He smiled then, more tender than teasing. “You’re right. Are you ready to go back?”
“Yes, I think so,” she said.
He was quiet all the way home. Emily found herself lost in memories of their shared childhood. There had always been a gentleness about Jake she hadn’t truly appreciated as a girl. She was lucky to have such a friend.
He took her to the kitchen door instead of the back door where the coats were hung. “It’s warmer in here,” he said. Once inside, he took her cloak and gloves and turned her over to his mother, who recommended a cup of hot tea.
Emily warmed herself near the kitchen stove while she waited for the water to boil. She found herself wishing Jake would hang up the coats and return to share the tea with her, but he didn’t. He must have gone back outside to resume whatever chores he had interrupted for their walk. It was difficult to explain her disappointment. Perhaps he distracted her, kept her from dwelling on her worries, kept her from missing Anson.
Dinner was a quiet affair. Christian made no more reference to Anson than Jake had. Trevor was still shy of Emily, though he let her hold him and feed him for a little while. Willa declared the noodles Martha had fixed her favorite and was so busy eating she was noticeably less talkative. Christian and Lynnette talked and teased each other, making Emily feel even more lonely.
Escaping before dessert, she sat on her bed and stared across the room without seeing it. This place, with its memories and its laughter conspired to confuse her. Things had been so much clearer in town. There she knew she loved Anson and he loved her. They were meant to be together. Her parents were the enemy, keeping her from happiness.
Here, so far from Anson, her love—and his—were less certain. Their chances of having a future like Christian and Lynnette seemed remote. Anson wasn’t much like Christian. But then, she wasn’t just like Lynnette, either. They would find their own way, their own life.
Somehow, even to herself, the argument seemed weak. She felt tears spring to her eyes and brushed them away. Tears, there always seemed to be tears! And often at the oddest times. Holding Trevor did it the fastest.
Things had to work out with Anson. What would become of her if they didn’t? She rested a hand on her belly and swallowed the lump in her throat. If Anson didn’t come for her, she would have to go away alone. She would be too ashamed to face her family and too afraid they might make her give the baby away.
She wished there was someone she could talk to, someone who wouldn’t condemn her. She had come close to confiding in Rose who had been her best friend for so long. But Rose was married to Arlen, and he was worse than her mother when it came to propriety. He would have her packed off to a maternity home and spread the lie that she was on some European tour. A sister with a bastard could hurt his political career.
Lynnette was her next choice. She would be understanding at least. And so would Christian, maybe. But what help could she really expect from them? They couldn’t tell her how to magically make the baby go away, how to magically undo the past.
You’ve made your bed and now you have to sleepin it, had a whole new meaning now. She felt another tear threaten and brushed at it angrily. She hated feeling sorry for herself! She had no patience for it in other people. She would survive. She would be a good mother to her child, with or without its father.
But, she told herself sternly, there wasn’t any danger of that. Anson would come for her. They would be married. When her family saw how happy they were, they would relent and welcome her back. She tried to picture her family gathered at Christmas, her parents, her brothers and their wives, Christian’s children, her own baby toddling around. It was easy.
But putting Anson in the picture proved difficult. She couldn’t imagine him sitting with her brothers and finding anything to say to them. She couldn’t imagine him helping with the decorations, singing carols, playing with the children.
She shook her head to dispel the thoughts. She was setting limits on him, and it wasn’t fair. More than likely he would fit right in. She would just know a more exciting side of him that her family would only guess at. She smiled to herself and wondered if it was forced.
A tap on the door startled her. “Are you sleeping?”
Emily had never been so glad to hear Willa’s loud whisper. She ran to the door and opened it.
Willa flounced in and threw herself across the bed, her short full skirt billowing for a second to reveal a tear in her stocking. “I can’t stand another minute in the nursery!” she exclaimed.
Emily held back a laugh. “What’s so awful about the nursery?”
“Everything! Trevor’s such a baby. I don’t have any place for just me. Sometimes girls need time alone, you know. Can I stay here with you?”
Emily watched the little girl throw her arm across her forehead dramatically, a gesture she had probably learned from her Aunt Rose. Willa was just what she needed to distract her from her worries.
But only for one night. Sometime soon she would be running away with Anson. She couldn’t afford to lose her privacy.
She cleared her throat. “Willa, dear, how about being my sleepover friend tonight?” At the little girl’s eager reaction she added, “Just tonight, mind you. We’ll make a party of it.”
Willa sat up quickly. “Honest? Shall I run and ask Mama?”
“No. Let her write while your brother’s asleep. We can ask her later. I’m sure she won’t mind.” Emily sat down on the bed, and Willa scooted over next to her. “What do you want to do when you sleep over?”
Emily was trying to think of what games a five-year-old might like to play when Willa came up with a suggestion. “We can write love letters to our boyfriends.” She quickly stifled a giggle behind her cupped hands.
“Boyfriends? Do you have a boyfriend?”
“We can make one up,” she suggested with another giggle. “Or I could write mine to Jake.”
“Jake!” Emily eyed the child. “Isn’t he a little old for you?”
Willa shrugged. “Papa’s older than Mama.”
“Not twenty years older!”
Willa shrugged her shoulders until they touched her ears. “But he’s so-o-o-o handsome. And so-o-o-o strong. He can lift me onto a horse like that.” She tried to snap her fingers.
“Anybody can lift you onto a horse,” Emily argued. “You’re a little girl.”
Willa thrust out her chin. “But Jake does it better than anybody else. Even Papa.”
Emily eyed the little girl sternly, but she felt her lips twitch with a smile. In a moment they were laughing in each other’s arms. “All right,” Emily said finally. “We’ll write love letters tonight. What do you want to do now? Shall we see about making those cookies we never got around to the other day?”
“Cookies!” Willa cried, jumping off the bed. She quickly covered her mouth then whispered loudly, “Trevor’s sleeping.”
Willa remembered to whisper all the way down the stairs. In the kitchen, she tugged Emily’s hand and pointed. Jake was cleaning the ashes out of the stove.
He looked up at the little girl’s giggle. “Good afternoon, ladies,” he said.
Willa ran to Martha but gave Jake a sidelong glance before asking permission to make cookies. Emily intended to follow Willa but found herself walking toward Jake instead.
“Don’t come too close,” he said. “You’ll get ashes on your dress.” She stopped a few feet away. She couldn’t help thinking of Willa’s description as she watched him work.
“What were you two giggling about?” he asked.
“I wasn’t giggling.”
“I thought I heard two distinct giggles.”
“No. Only one. And it’s girl stuff. Secret.” The last she said in Willa’s exaggerated whisper.
“Oh,” he whispered back.
Willa joined them with her lower lip sticking out a good half inch. “Martha says we can’t bake cookies ‘cause she’s gonna make Christmas stuff.”
“Maybe we can help her with the Christmas baking,” Emily suggested.
Willa shook her head sadly. “She says it’s candy, and it’s too hot for me to help. What are we going to do?”
