Chapter Eighteen

Emma didn't move from the bed much at all the rest of the day. She was miserable and heartbroken. She needed to speak with Liam but he was gone—he'd ridden out after storming from the cabin.

And now she was alone.

She had thought about going back into town and living there until Liam returned—but she couldn't make that trip until her ribs healed a bit. She would never stand the pain of walking or riding that long journey on the bumpy road.

And, she wasn't sure she should leave. If she left and Liam returned, what kind of message did that send him? Emma didn't want to cause him any more pain.

No, she was his wife. Her name was now Emma McIntyre. And she would do what a wife was expected to do. She would keep the house up and wait patiently for her husband to return.

Emma was imagining what might be said between, when suddenly the cabin door opened and Patrick stepped in. That familiar unease swept through her.

Liam was not around. Patrick had already attempted to get rid of her once. Would he do it again? Or would he attempt to hurt her?

"Don't be scared of me," Patrick insisted as he took off his gun belt and coat and hung both on a hook by the door. "You're my daughter-in-law now. That makes us family."

Emma hadn't thought of it like that. Patrick stoked up the fire and glanced toward the kitchen. "Are you hungry, Emma? I probably should have come in and made you something earlier. I'll admit I'm new to thinking about somebody else—that's something my son and I have in common."

Emma frowned. "Liam is a good man...."

"I know that," Patrick assured her as he pulled several potatoes from a bin beneath a cabinet. "But he isn't used to thinking about someone else before he makes decisions. Don't pretend you aren't bothered that he went on that job today."

Emma merely looked down at the blanket covering her legs. Patrick sighed. "Today was a bad day. You were both thrown into something that you weren't quite ready for and both of you handled it poorly. But you have a month to rest, heal and think about things. I'm sure when Liam comes back, you'll both be back to being the happy, smiling couple I saw at the dance."

Emma felt herself smiling despite her own doubts. She really truly wanted Patrick to be right.

Patrick smiled, his leathery cheeks wrinkling more deeply. "Now, allow me to whip you up some supper. I ain't much of a cook but I can fry a mean potato and I can heat up beans. I hope that'll suit you."

Emma nodded, feeling more comfortable with the man's presence than she had moments ago. Surely he was no danger to her—not any longer. "That sounds good to me. Thank you, Patrick."

Patrick shrugged off the gratitude. "Don't mention it. I owe you a hell of a lot more than one lousy supper."

***

The next morning found Emma even more sore than she'd been the day before. She knew she needed to get up and move around. Patrick had slept in the barn the night before and hadn't yet been in the house. Perhaps Emma could cook him breakfast as a thank you for cooking supper for her.

She wanted to ensure that their relationship wasn't stuck in the past and tainted by his mistake. He truly seemed sorry for what he'd done and she understood that in his own way, he honestly had thought he was helping his son by sending her back to her father.

Besides, the past was the past and nothing could be done to change it. She was Liam's wife now which meant Patrick was her father-in-law... Emma had never had a father who truly cared for her—maybe Patrick could one day be that for her.

She was just placing the eggs, potatoes, gravy and bread on the table when Patrick stepped inside. "Well, I'll be....." he muttered as he pulled off his hat and hung it by the door. "As thankful as my stomach is to see breakfast ready, I promised Liam you wouldn't overdo yourself while he was gone."

Emma's lips curved in a hint of a smile. "It's only breakfast. I didn't chop wood."

Patrick chuckled. "Please stay out of the woodshed."

Emma motioned at the table. "Are ya going to eat?"

"Of course I am! Join me?"

As Emma sat down across from Patrick at the table she couldn't help but feel slightly awkward and unsure.

She had nearly cleaned her plate when the sound of an approaching cart had Patrick rising. Fear blossomed in her chest when the man kept his hand on the revolver on his hip as he stepped toward the window and lifted the corner of the curtain.

He let out a sigh and smiled as he turned to face her. "It's only Sally and Clarence."

A visitor! Emma had never entertained visitors before. She should have made more breakfast... there wasn't enough for two more people to eat.

"You look scared as a mouse in a snake den," Patrick scolded gently. "Sally's your friend, isn't she? She probably just wants to check on you."

Emma nodded, scolding herself for being foolish. Her father had always had her mother do the entertaining for his loud, mean friends and Emma had heard her mother take more than one beating over not being a good hostess.

Emma wouldn't want to disappoint Liam that way.

"Come on in!" Patrick called when the knock sounded on the door.

Sally burst in, took one look at Emma and began to sob. She rushed forward and pulled Emma into a gentle hug. "I'm so sorry you got hurt, Emma!"

"It's not yer fault," Emma replied, patting her back and glancing helplessly at Patrick. Long hugs were uncomfortable and awkward for her.

"I know but I encouraged you to go to the dance...I worked hard to help talk Liam into taking you. If I hadn't done that...."

Patrick stepped forward. "The only one to blame here for what happened is me," he insisted, his voice tightening.

Sally glared at him. "You are right about that." She pulled away from Emma and smiled. "Lauren wanted to come but once she found out Patrick was here, Anita wouldn't let her."

Emma folded her hands in front of her. "Why not?"

"Because Lauren was sharpening her knife, that's why not."

Patrick swallowed hard and grabbed his hat from the hook. "I'll step outside and see if Clarence is nicer company," he grumbled, before plopping his hat on his head and leaving the cabin.

Emma bit her lip. "He truly does seem like a decent man."

Sally snorted. "He has a lot to prove before I'll believe that. And you really aren't the most reliable judge of a good man, Emma—considering the only man you grew up with to judge them all by is a raging alcoholic with bad hygiene and heavy fists."

Emma sighed. Sally was certainly blunt, but she was a good friend. "So what brings ya out here?" Emma asked, as she led Sally to the small sofa and the two ladies sat down.

"I just wanted to visit my friend," Sally replied, her gaze dropping momentarily. "How are you, Emma? You look.... Tired."

Emma flushed. She knew she looked terrible. She'd avoided the one tiny mirror attached to the wash basin. She could tell by the swelling and soreness in her face that her father had done quite a bit of damage. She didn't want to know just how ugly she was.

"It hurts," she replied honestly. "But Liam saved my life. He got there just in time."

"Oh yes." Sally smiled. "The marriage heard 'round the world."

Emma's gaze dropped to her folded hands. "Does everyone know about that?"

Sally nodded. "Yes. Town might be growing every day but word still travels fast—especially word about Liam. He's well known in town for being a mysterious loner. Of course people are shocked that he took a wife so quickly after meeting you."

Emma felt her heart break. "Yes.. well... I'm sure he is wishing he hadn't."

Sally gasped. "Why on earth would you say that? If there was ever a man in love, it's Liam McIntyre. The whole world can see it when he looks at you!"

Emma stood slowly, whimpering in pain as she went to the window and glanced out at the flowing grassy valley behind the cabin. "I was a monster to him yesterday, Sally. I didn't take learning I was a wife well and I said things—accused him of things..." She chewed her lip. "Liam hates me now."

"No he doesn't."

"Yes, he does!" Emma insisted. "Ya weren't here. Ya didn't hear me... And he's gone now, isn't he? He couldn't get out of here fast enough."

Sally joined Emma at the window and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Emma, this job has been lined up for quite a while. Liam had been determined to go, then wasn't going to because you were unconscious, but he must have changed his mind when you woke up...."

"Because I was mean..."

"Oh hush! Liam is a strong, independent, grown man. He isn't going to pout and run away because someone says something mean and hurts his feelings. This job is paying him very very well and I'm sure he's thinking about the future. He has a wife to support now. He needs money to do that."

Emma felt a tear slip down her cheek as she turned to face her friend. "Do ya truly think he'll forgive me?"

Sally laughed lightly as she swiped the tear away. "I'm sure he already has. You were tired and in pain and confused and tempers can flare when that happens. By the time he comes home, Liam will be so happy to see your face again, he won't even remember what happened when he left."

Emma's lips curved in a hopeful smile. Sally took her hand and tugged her gently back toward the sofa. "Now, come on. Let's sit down because I have to talk with you about something."

Emma didn't like the uneasiness that had suddenly entered Sally's voice. "Is something wrong?"

"No... not exactly." Sally sat down and began to pluck at her skirt. "Clarence is moving east... he has some family that way and he wants to work on his music there." Sally met her gaze. "I'm going with him. We were wed this morning and we're heading out of town now. We wanted to stop here on the way—I wanted to stop here on the way."

Emma's heart dropped into her feet and her throat clogged with emotion. "But.... I..."

Emma wanted so badly to tell Sally that she couldn't go. That Emma needed her to stay. But she couldn't do that. Sally had lived a hard life before coming to Anita's and she'd been at Anita's longer than any other girl before just waiting for a life of her own to find her.

And it had.

Just as life had found Emma.

So she plastered a shaky smile on her face and took Sally's hand. "I'm happy for ya."

Sally's face lit up. "Are you really? I was nervous to tell you. I thought you'd be angry or feel like I was abandoning you.... Clarence asked me to marry him this morning because he couldn't stand the thought leaving without me."

Emma chewed on her lip and fought back her tears. "I'm going to miss ya... I can't lie about that. But I am happy for ya. Ya deserve to be happy."

Sally leaned forward and hugged Emma once again. "I'll message you whenever I can while we're traveling, Emma. And once we're settled down we'll write constantly."

Emma nodded as Sally pulled away. "Of course. You were my first true friend, Sally, and I'll never forget that."

The two women sat and talked a while longer before Sally finally stood and said she had to be going. Emma walked her onto the porch and wrapped her arms tight around herself as she watched Clarence help Sally into the cart and her friend disappeared from view.

"You okay there, Emma?" Patrick asked, rubbing at his neck and shifting his feet. Clearly he was uncomfortable and the movement reminded Emma so much of Liam that she could no longer hold back her tears.

She raced back inside, curled up upon the bed and sobbed into the pillow. She wouldn't see Liam again for at least a month and there was a good chance she would never see Sally again.

Patrick stepped into the cabin, shuffled his feet as if wanting to say something and then walked back out, closing the door gently behind him.

Emma cried a good long while before picking herself back up off the bed and drying her face. She was determined to be strong. Emma would focus on getting better and allowing her body to heal and soon Liam would be back and everything would be okay again—she had to believe that.

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