Authors: Lily Graison
Tags: #historical romance, #cowboy, #old west, #western romance, #westerns, #historical 1800s, #western historical romance, #historical western romance, #cowboy romance, #lily graison, #old west romance
"Why?" Holden raised an eyebrow at him.
"Besides the obvious."
"I've an eight year old daughter, for one.
She needs a mother. Sarah's been a big help but it isn't the same.
When Colt finishes the house, they'll be gone anyway so that leaves
her with me and pa again."
"Is that the only reason you'd marry
her?"
That boyish grin crossed Holden's face again.
"Having some sweet smelling woman in my bed at night is an
incentive I wouldn't pass up. Having someone around to take care of
me for a while is another." He straightened and repositioned his
hat again. "Don't you ever just want someone there to ease your
pains a bit? To know that no matter how shitty your day was, just
knowing the moment you walk into your room, someone would be there
waiting to make it all worth while."
Holden gaze clouded a bit as if he wasn't
even aware where he was. He smiled, the look on his face almost sad
before he blinked. "I just miss having someone around, is all.
Knowing that no matter what I do, someone is there to stand by my
side." He walked away, his shoulders slumped and left the barn.
Tristan had met Molly before he left all
those years ago but never imagined Holden would marry her. His
heart broke for his brother when he learned he'd lost her giving
birth to Alex and hearing Holden talk just now, he knew his brother
missed her. Missed having someone in his life.
He stared out the open barn doors, the sun
dimmed from cloud cover. The air was cool, the breeze blowing
through the barn cold now that he was just standing there and he
knew Holden was right. When Emmaline returned home, Tristan knew
the aches and pains in his shoulders would be eased by her soft
hands. Her flowery scent would soothe him, as well as her gentle
laughter. She'd come to him when the house was quiet, sneak into
his room and undress in the darkness and crawl into his bed like
she'd done nearly every night since bringing her home with him and
he'd miss those quiet talks if she ever left.
Did he want to marry Emmaline? He wasn't sure
but one thing was for certain. He sure as hell wasn't letting her
go.
* * * *
Abigail was as friendly as Sarah and wasn't
the least bit timid. She said exactly what she thought and Emmaline
liked her instantly. They were all three seated in the parlor of
Abigail's home, tea cups in hand and other than feeling out of
place surrounded by such nice things and holding a dainty cup in
her hands, the visit was nice if not a little overwhelming.
"She's gazing off into nothing again, Sarah.
See if she's still awake."
Their laughter caught her attention and
Emmaline felt her face heat as she blushed. She sat the fancy cup
down and buried her hands in her lap. "I was listening."
"Really?" Abigail grinned. "What did we
say?"
The heat in her face increased. "Something
about Morgan and him not caring you were big as a whale."
Their laughter filled the room. Abigail laid
on hand on her rounded stomach and leaned back in her seat. "It's a
good thing he doesn't. I can't imagine anyone else helping me when
my feet are so swollen I can't walk or my back aches to the point I
can't even climb the stairs." She laughed again, her eyes
twinkling. "You should have seen him last night carrying me up to
our room. He never said anything but I just know the man wanted to
complain that I was too heavy to be hauling up the steps."
"He knows better," Sarah said, taking a sip
from her cup. "He wouldn't get the pleasure of undressing you if he
did."
"Or anything else."
Emmaline watched them laugh about things she
didn't know much about. Their hushed whispers about sex while
pregnant as foreign a topic as any she'd ever heard. She looked at
Abigail, saw the way she lovingly ran her hand over her stomach and
wondered for the first time what it felt like to have a tiny life
inside her. She'd never entertained thoughts of children but as she
saw how happy Abigail looked, she did. She saw a girl with bright
blue eyes and hair so shiny gold she looked like a cherub straight
from heaven. A boy with dimples in his cheeks and mischief in his
eyes. And Tristan. She saw him gazing at her like she was the most
important thing in his life, his hands resting on the shoulders of
those two small beings he'd helped create.
She blushed again and lowered her head,
staring at her hands and berated herself for being so foolish. She
had no right thinking such things. A life like this wasn't meant
for her. She'd never have a home as warm and cozy as Abigail's.
Fine furnishings and fancy tea cups, laughter of friends as they
talked about their husband's. All she had was a gold mine and no
one to share it with.
The room had grown quiet and she glanced up
to find Abigail and Sarah both staring at her. "What?"
Sarah smiled and turned in her chair to face
her. "Well, we were just wondering what exactly your relationship
with Tristan was." She glanced at Abigail briefly before catching
her attention again. "The two of you aren't married and I've heard
no plans of it. Seeing how you're alone here in Willow Creek, we
just thought you might need someone to talk to."
Emmaline opened her mouth but nothing came
out. What was she supposed to say? What did they want to know? She
shrugged her shoulders and flicked a quick glance at Abigail. "Talk
about what?"
Sarah grinned at her. "Well, I know you've
been sneaking to his room every night."
Emmaline's pulse leaped. Did everyone
know?
"I guess I was just wondering if you had any
plans on joining the family."
Her eyes widened. "No." She scoffed at the
very idea and picked her cup back up, hiding her face as she sipped
from the delicate porcelain. "Tristan is just helping me out until
I get back on my feet. Nothing more. I'm not even sure he likes
me."
"Oh, I'd say he more than likes you." Sarah
stood and grabbed the small tea pot and refilled all their cups
before sitting back down. "I've seen the way he looks at you. Why
you can't even step in front of the man without him touching
you."
Emmaline thought about that and knew it was
true but brushed it off. It didn't mean anything. "So?"
Abigail tried to sit up straight, failed and
sighed before leaning back again. "So, a man wouldn't be giving you
his undivided attention if he didn't care." She struggled in her
seat, her face twisting a bit before she took a deep breath and
resettled. "The question is, what do you feel? Are you in love with
him?"
The answer whispered itself inside her head
so sweetly, Emmaline wondered if they heard it. She averted her
eyes, stared into her tea cup and knew, regardless of what she
felt, it made little difference. Tristan didn't love her back.
Sarah leaned forward, her gaze locked on
Emmaline and waited for an answer but it was Abigail's sharp
inhalation of breath that stole the attention. They both looked
over at her, noticing she was holding her stomach, her eyes wide
and her mouth open as if she'd been startled. She looked at each of
them and smiled. "I think my water just broke."
* * * *
Tristan ate in silence, listing as Colt and
Holden discussed business. He'd done nothing since his talk with
Holden in the barn but think of Emmaline. Holden wanting to know if
he planned on marrying Emmaline had caused thoughts of doing just
that to bombard him. He just wasn't sure she'd agree.
She'd wanted nothing since meeting him but
that land and he still didn't know why. He knew from their talks
that she'd lived there the whole of her life and maybe that was why
she wanted it so badly. It was all she had. And he'd taken it
without batting an eye. It was "home" to her. Her one possession
and he snatched it out from under her without a backwards
glance.
Thoughts of giving her the deed whispered
across his mind but an irrational fear of what she'd do if she had
it assaulted him. Would she take the deed and leave? Leave him
without a second thought?
"What deed?"
Tristan looked up when Colt spoke. Everyone
was looking at him. "What?"
Colt pushed his plate away, folding his arms
across the top of the table. "You said, would she take the deed and
leave. I'm going to assume you meant Emmaline but what I want to
know is, what deed?"
He must have been talking aloud. He really
didn't want to get into this with his brothers. He leaned back and
crossed his arms over his chest. "I'd rather not talk about my
problems."
Holden and Colt both laughed. "Sorry little
brother but you forget where you are. You can't live in a house
full of people and expect your business to stay your own. Now what
deed are you talking about? Land?"
Tristan sighed. "Yes." He told them
everything then. How he won the land deed in a card game, meeting
Emmaline when she broke into his hotel room and finding her in the
cabin. The entire story came out and when he was finished his soul
felt lighter.
"You think she'd leave if you gave it to
her?"
"I don't know." He shifted in his seat then
stood. "I hid the deed in pa's study. I know she's still looking
for it."
Holden stood too and picked his plate up.
"Seems to me the easiest way to find out what she'd do is to give
it to her. If she stays you'll know. If not…well, it'll make our
little talk earlier a little easier. You'll know what to do about
it then."
Tristan watched them leave, his father
getting up from the table to amble away and he knew Holden was
right. Giving Emmaline the deed would tell him if she really cared
for him or if she was just after her land. Thoughts of giving it
back though sent fear skating along his spine. If he gave her the
deed and she left him again, he wasn't sure what he'd do but a
small voice in the back of his mind said she'd stay. That whatever
secret she was holding onto wouldn't matter.
He carried his plate to the kitchen, sitting
it on the counter and left the house using the back door. The cold
wind slapped him in the face the moment he stepped outside and it
wasn't until he stepped off the porch that he realized it was
snowing. The flakes were small but the clouds were gray and thick.
A storm was brewing. He glanced toward the road and wondered if
Emmaline and Sarah were on their way home yet.
* * * *
They had Abigail settle back in bed and for a
woman about to give birth she seemed amazingly calm. Emmaline was
anything but. She'd wanted to run the moment Abigail told them
she'd been having pains all morning but was trying to ignore it.
There was no ignoring it now. Tristan's sister-in-law would be
giving birth today and Emmaline felt frantic from the notion.
Sarah had her scurrying around the house
trying to prepare and Emmaline set the last bucket of water on to
heat before grabbing her coat. She left the house, shivering
against the wind and looked up at the sky as snow fluttered to the
ground around her. She hastened her steps, walking the short
distance into town at a fast clip and stopped once she reached the
new jail. The sound of hammers banging on wood wasn't present
today. She peeked inside the building and found it empty. Where was
Morgan?
She turned and looked back down the street.
There were only a few businesses in town and it wouldn't take long
to find him but doing so left her panting for breath. By the time
she stepped into the saloon, sweat dotted her forehead.
The marshal was leaning against the bar,
laughing at something the bartender told him. He looked a lot like
his brothers now that she was able to look her fill of him. She
crossed the space, stopped beside him and cleared her throat.
"Emmaline." He smiled at her and turned to
face her. "What are you doing in here?"
"It's Abigail. The baby is coming."
His eyes widened before he ran past her
without a word. Emmaline stared at the bartender, giving him a tiny
smile as he shouted to everyone inside the building that the
marshal would be indisposed for the duration of the day. The noise
level grew and the rowdy bunch swilling liquor inside the saloon
seemed to expand and swell.
Emmaline turned and left, walking quickly
back to Abigail's house, the snow already collecting on the ground.
She worried about getting trapped in town during a snow storm and
her thoughts drifted to Tristan. If they didn't make it home before
the storm hit, this would be the first night since meeting him that
he wouldn't be close by. She felt bereft with the thought.
The house was calm when she returned and she
eased up the stairs, peeking into Abigail's room. Sarah and Morgan
were both there and Abigail looked madder than a wet hen. Her face
was red, her hands clenched into fist and the murderous look she
gave Morgan would have singed the hide off a cows butt.
"Absolutely not, Morgan. I don't want her
here." Abigail turned her head, staring out the bedroom window.
Morgan sat on the edge of the bed, brushing
her hair away from her face. "I know she's overbearing but she's
the closest thing we have to a doctor. I'd feel better if she were
here."