Hearts Unfold (59 page)

The carefully mounted photographs
gave way to empty pages.
 
Tucked in the
back of the book were several loose pictures.
 
Emily in cap and gown at her high school graduation.
 
A snapshot of her standing arm in arm with
Lil, apparently on Lil's graduation day.
  
A formal shot of Emily in her nurse's uniform, taken when she completed
her training.
 
Here was his own beautiful
girl, but with that wistful smile he remembered so vividly from his dream.
 
Here was the Emily he had seen the day they
first met on the front porch, before somehow the light had come back in her
eyes.
 
Had he been responsible for that
light that now sparkled whenever she looked at him?

He turned back to the shot of
the three of them, studying her as she stood so bravely in the sunlight.
 
This was the girl Angela had talked about,
who had taken on so much so soon.
 
Emily
rarely talked of her mother's illness, and then only in the most general
terms.
 
She never spoke of her own
suffering.
 
As he stared at the girlish
features, his heart opened, a physical response to what he saw reflected in
those eyes.
 
He wished desperately to
reach out and take that girl in his arms, to shield her against whatever had
brought that pain into her young life.

Gently closing the book and
placing it back on the shelf, he realized he had gained very special access to
the woman he loved by looking at her young life through the eyes of her
mother.
 
That book had been a gift, left
for him to find as he made his way into Emily's world.
 
Meeting her friends, seeing where she lived,
was all valuable information, but those photographs recording the years when
she had grown so rapidly into a woman, were the most enlightening.

As he went to bed, shivering
for a time between the cold sheets, he tried to say a prayer of
thanksgiving.
 
He had never known how to
pray beyond a few formal phrases.
 
Now he
opened his thoughts, hoping God would decipher the web of emotions and
images.
 
He would understand his
inadequacies, grant him dispensation for having come so recently to
communicating in this way.
 
Stani thought
that if God understood anything, it was how grateful he was for the knowledge
of Emily, for the honor of loving her and making her smile.

Stani woke at seven as the
morning light was just seeping through the chink in the drapes.
 
He rushed into his clothes, brushed his teeth
and made a pointless attempt to tame his hair with the pocket comb Emily had
laid out on the dresser.
 
Wishing he had
a sweater to put on against the chill, he nevertheless rolled up his
shirtsleeves and headed purposefully for the fireplace.
 
There were embers glowing, a good sign, he
hoped.
 
After a few moments of poking at
them, he laid on a large pine cone from the kindling basket, as he had seen her
do, and the resulting flames gave him courage.
 
Adding a smallish log, he waited and to his amazement, the fire
caught.
 
Triumphant, he watched it build,
carefully added another log, and then turned toward the kitchen.

By the time her car entered
the gate, he had laid a tray with tea and slices of her cinnamon bread on the
table by the window.
 
Carefully pouring
juice into glasses, he congratulated himself on setting the scene for her
return.
 
Now if he could only have a half
hour or so of uninterrupted time with her.
 
The thought that this might at last be the moment sent a shiver of
anticipation—and
 
just a tiny shudder of
fear—through his unexpectedly tense body.

She was smiling, coming up the
steps to greet him; and the sight of that smile reminded him of last night's
journey.
 
With a twinkle in her eyes, she
asked how he had slept.

“Fine.
 
The house is certainly vocal, though.
 
It talked to me all night.”
 
He chuckled, relieving her of her coat and
watching as she sat down at the table and removed her shoes.
 
“Rough night?”

“Frantic.”
 
Stretching her legs in front of her, she
wiggled her toes inside the white stockings.

“Poor darling.
 
Maybe a little tea will help.”
 
As he poured, she reached up and unpinned the
little cap, pulling the pins from her hair and shaking it loose.
 
Something inside his ribcage did a queer
little twist, and for a moment he thought he might have to gasp for air.

“Oh, it was wonderful.
 
We were busy all night, never a moment to
spare.
 
I love it when it's like
that.”
 
Turning her full attention to the
tray, she took a slice of the bread and began to eat with relish.

He sat across from her, taking
a moment to regulate his breathing.
 
“Really?
 
What sort of things do
you see in a rural emergency room?
 
Not
the kind of violent things they get in New York, surely.”

“Oh, no.
 
Let's see.
 
We had a child with a raging fever due to an ear infection.
 
Then there was a man who needed fifteen
stitches in his hand after trying to make a ham sandwich using the electric
carving knife he gave his wife for Christmas.
 
Two women in labor, one real and one false.
 
Oh, and three brothers who apparently had a
little disagreement and beat each other up pretty thoroughly, then drove
themselves to the hospital to get patched up.
 
When they sober up, they're all going to be surprised at the damage they
did to each other.”
 
Draining her cup,
she held it out for more tea.
 
“One poor lady
dragged her husband in convinced he was having a heart attack.
 
Turned out he’d just eaten too much cabbage
soup.
 
She was really mad at him for not
being more seriously ill.”

Stani laughed.
 
“So it was an exciting night.
 
You look amazingly fresh for someone who
worked so hard.”
 
He went to the
fireplace, added a log, and turned to find her standing behind him.
 
Gathering her into his arms, he studied her
face, trying to determine how tired she might be.

“I'm fine.
 
I think I'll just sit by this beautiful fire
for a while, before I shower.”
 
Taking
his hand, she led him to the couch, pulling him down beside her.
 
When she curled at his side, her head resting
on his shoulder, Stani considered his options.
 
He could begin now, or perhaps it would be better this afternoon, once
she'd had some sleep.
 
If she were too
tired, he might risk tipping her emotional balance in the wrong direction.
 
On the other hand, she was snuggled so
sweetly against him the moment was certainly full of potential.

He tested the waters with a
kiss.
 
Warm and responsive, definitely
promising.
 
“Emily, do you understand
what it is I feel for you?”
 
It was a
simple question, but it opened the door to much more.

“Um.
 
Much the same as I feel for you, I
think.”
 
With a sigh, she nestled closer,
and just as he might have expected, her hand wandered into his shirt.
 
He took a moment to bury his face in her
hair, breathing in the warm freshness.
 
His arms tightened around her and he let his hand slide down the firm
sweep of her back, coming to rest on the gentle curve between waist and hip.

“I want you, Emily, want you
for always.
 
Do you understand
that?”
 
Her answer was another sigh.
 
He waited for more, but she only curled
closer, her arm slipping down to his waist.
 
“Emily, darling?”
 
As he shifted
gently to look into her eyes, her head slumped lower on his chest, her hair
cascading across his shirt.
 
He let out a
low moan.
 
Just like that, in the middle
of his declaration of undying love, Emily had fallen asleep.

He left her there for a time,
stroking her hair and staring into the fire.
 
At least she was in his arms.
 
And
they were alone.
 
His timing had been all
wrong.
 
He should have waited.
 
Now he would have to begin again, from the
beginning, assuming she wouldn't remember what he’d said.
 
With a grin, he listened to her softly
snoring against his chest.
 
He loved her,
and no matter what, he intended to speak his piece before the day was out.
 
In the meantime, at least he had the
satisfaction of knowing she trusted him enough to fall asleep in his arms.
 
Small consolation, but it was something.
 
And he needed something to keep his courage
up.
 
This was proving to be more
challenging than he had ever anticipated.

Chapter Forty-eight

It was well past three when
Jack dropped him back at the farmhouse.
 
His visit with Pastor Mike had been more helpful than he’d expected, and
he felt strong and sure as he approached the front door.
 
With the exception of the brief conversation
he'd had with Peter McConnell, just as he was leaving the church, everything
seemed to point the way clearly for his plan to go forward.
 
He’d tried to shake off the moment of doubt
aroused when Peter had asked if he and Emily were “serious.”
 
While he hadn't been specific, he had said
“Of course” with as much confidence as he could muster.
 

“I wish you luck, man.
 
Emily can be real stubborn, and she's had her
mind made up for a long time.
 
You'll be
the first if you manage to break her down.”

Stani hadn't much liked the
phrasing, but he sensed that Peter spoke from experience.
 
He wanted to reply that she loved him, that
he was the one she'd been waiting for; but instead, he just smiled and said,
“Thanks.”

Now as he put his hand on the
doorknob, he took a deep breath, hoping to still the sudden fluttering in his
gut.
 
This was the time when he most
needed to be calm, in control.
 
For once,
he longed for the kind of confidence he felt only on stage.
 
Maybe a few minutes with the old violin would
ease his nerves.
 
Turning the knob with a
firm grip, he plunged on.
 
Now or never,
here and now, do or die.

“Hi!
 
I was beginning to wonder whether you were
coming back.”
 
Emily was coming down the
stairs, a vision in blue jeans and a fuzzy pink sweater.
 
She had tied her hair in a ponytail high at
the back of her head, and it swung from side to side as she bounced toward
him.
 
Sixteen, he thought; she looked no
more than a teenager, with her shining face and that adorable hairstyle.
 
He couldn't possibly say what he had planned to
this innocent child.

But when she came onto his
arms, seizing his mouth in one of those long, sweet kisses, he was once again
reassured.
 
As she stripped off his
overcoat, pulling him by the hand toward the couch, he laughed.
 
“My goodness, a few hours’ sleep certainly
seems to have put the spring back in your step.”

“I don't need a lot of
sleep.
 
Nurse's training teaches you to
nap well.
 
Now, tell me about your visit
with Pastor Mike.
 
Was it good?”

“Yes.
 
It was.
 
And that's all I intend to say on that subject just now.
 
We have things to talk about, Emily, and
before we're interrupted
again,
I want to get something said.”
 
Searching her face, he saw her eyes darken
slightly.
 
Surely it wasn't fear that
snuffed out her smile so thoroughly?

“Things?”

He couldn't resist brushing a
wisp of hair from her forehead.
 
At his
touch she started, and he realized she was waiting breathlessly for him to go
on.
 
“Emily, I want you, want you for
always.
 
Do you understand me?”
 
His voice was none too sure, raspy with
emotion.

She nodded solemnly.
 
“I think so.”

“There's something I have to
tell you.
 
Please let me finish before
you say anything.”
 
He turned her gently
to look straight into her eyes, holding her at arm's length.