Captive Heart (24 page)

“I see.” His voice was brusque.

“What?” Emma lifted her tearstained face. “Thayne, I—”

“I’ll go to town first thing tomorrow and find out about getting you a ticket. Stage comes about once a—”

“I don’t want to go home.” She scrambled to her feet as he turned to leave the room. “Thayne, please.” She caught his sleeve, panicked that he’d misunderstood her so terribly. Slowly, he turned around. His jaw was set in a hard line, but there was uncertainty on his face and hurt—deep and terrible hurt—reflected in his eyes. Realizing her supposed rejection had put it there, Emma felt the final piece of her heart break. She took a step forward and flung her arms around him, holding him with all the passion, protectiveness, and love coursing through her.

Thayne stood stiffly for a moment, and then his arms circled her waist and he pulled her to him, returning her love with equal ardor.

“Oh, Emma,” he breathed when at last they parted.

“I don’t want to go home,” she repeated, then looked up at him and smiled through her tears. “I
am
home.”

Chapter 39

Emma paced the oval carpet before the parlor window. Every fifth round, she stopped, leaning forward to pull the lace curtain back and check once more for any sign of Marcus. It was nearing noon, and he had yet to arrive. Worry nagged at her heart, and instinct told her something was wrong.

Very wrong.

She tried not to think of him, cold and alone, out in the storm. It was difficult not to, and only her other worry—for the animals in the barn who were overdue for milking and feeding—was able to pull her mind from Marcus for a few brief moments. She paced some more, watching as Joshua played on the floor with the blocks Thayne had carved for him at Christmas.

“All right,” Emma said at last, hands on hips as she marched resolutely toward the pegs by the door. “Joshua, we’re going out for a few minutes.”

Joshua did not look up until her skirt swished past, brushing his leg. Emma pulled his coat from the hook and knelt down at his level. “Out,” she said slow and loud.

His face lit up, and he scooted toward her. She wiggled his arms into the sleeves and fastened the buttons, taking no notice, for once, of the pleasure that task usually brought. Thinking again of Marcus, Emma tied the hat that Pearl had crocheted for Joshua on his head. What would happen to her dear friend if her husband were hurt—or worse? Emma slipped the heavy woolen mittens over Joshua’s little hands, then stood. She held her finger up, motioning that they would go in one minute. She took her cloak from its peg, pulled the hood up, and tied the string, dismayed to find her hands unsteady.

Bending down, she lifted Joshua to her hip. For a second, she was tempted to leave him in the warm house. She wasn’t certain how she’d keep him out of the muck and mud in the barn, and it would certainly make the chores go faster if she didn’t have to watch out for him. But Thayne’s warning rang in her head. There were too many dangers. The stove could catch fire; he could pull something over on himself—any number of things. She would just have to find a pile of straw to set him in and hope the work went quickly.

Bracing herself against the biting cold, she opened the front door, slamming it shut behind her as she hurried down the porch steps. Holding to the railing, she followed it to the edge of the porch, then found the rope Thayne had knotted there for use during the heavy snowstorms. Clinging to the rope with one hand and holding Joshua tight with the other, she began the laborious walk against the pouring rain. After only a few steps, her nose stung from the cold, and her hair was plastered to her head.
At least we’ll have plenty of water for the crops,
she tried to tell herself.

Joshua turned his face into her chest, and Emma let go of the rope long enough to wrap her cloak around him. She hurried as fast as her legs would go, eyes stinging as the wind hit them. She prayed Marcus had found shelter somewhere, and she prayed that Thayne had made it safely to Rapid City before the storm hit.

Early this morning she’d bid him good-bye, part of her wishing she were going. She knew at least a part of him wanted her to come too. They might have married there at the courthouse as soon as his divorce was final, and even now she might have been at a hotel, enjoying her honeymoon supper instead of looking forward to spending time with a bunch of smelly cows. But Thayne had not thought it advisable for her and Joshua to come.

She recalled their conversation a few days past.

“I won’t do that to you,” he’d insisted. “Fine woman like you deserves a wedding with all the trimmings—pretty dress, flowers, and your father to give you away. Doubt he’d be too happy to do that if he had to listen to the judge pronounce my divorce final first.”

“I don’t care what my father thinks,” Emma had protested. “Once he gets to know you, he’ll see what a fine man you are.”

“Let’s hope you’re right.” Thayne had smiled as he took her hands. “Truth is, it’s more than that. I’m selfish enough to marry you just about anywhere and under any circumstances, but I’m worried.”

“About what?” Emma’s brow wrinkled. “I’m not going to change my mind.”

“I’m not planning to let you.” Thayne chuckled, then his face grew serious once more. “It has been over a month since Christina was located and served her papers. She won’t want this divorce. It will mean the end of any possibility she might have had to get her hands on my money, my old mine.”

“You think she’s going to try something?” Emma asked, feeling her own inkling of worry.

“I do,” Thayne said solemnly. “But I think she’ll be clever about it—won’t resort to violence unless she’s forced to.”

“What do you—”

“I think she’s going to appeal to the judge to give her Joshua.”

Emma’s intake of breath was sharp. “She can’t. She nearly killed him.”

“But the judge has no evidence of that. It will be my word against hers. Who do you think he’ll believe?”

“You,” Emma said. “You’ve cared for him this entire time while his mother’s been off being—a saloon girl.”

“It doesn’t matter a whit what she’s been off doing. All she’s got to do is convince the judge to rule in her favor. And Christina’s very talented at getting men to do exactly what she wants. She’ll be banking on that and on the fact that I’d give her anything to keep Joshua safe.” Thayne released Emma’s hands and ran his fingers through his hair. “It comes down to this. We can’t have Joshua there, and we need to be prepared to run if the judge gives her any kind of custody. I
will
become an outlaw if that’s what it takes to protect my son.”

So Emma had stayed behind. Thayne had told her he’d be back in a few days. In the meantime, Marcus was coming to stay with them to take care of the chores.

Except, he hadn’t.

And now she was worried and alone out here for the first time.

At last, Emma reached the barn. She stumbled inside, sat Joshua on the floor between her legs, and reached for the lantern hanging near the door. Her hands trembled as she lit the wick and it flickered to life. Holding the lantern high in one hand, she reached down, scooping Joshua up with the other.

“Let’s go feed the horses and get you some milk.” She took two steps toward the stalls, then stopped, suddenly realizing how quiet it was.

“Gm,” Joshua said, pointing to the stall of his favorite horse.

Emma held the light higher and looked to the right and left. Though numb with cold, her feet hurried down the row of stalls, and she looked in each one.

“Gm,” Joshua repeated.

Emma’s grip on him tightened even as her hand holding the lantern began to shake. She turned and ran toward the door, blowing out the light and hanging it back on its hook as she moved.

“Gm,” Joshua said with the same urgency she felt.

“Yes,” Emma acknowledged as she pulled his head close to her heart. “The animals are all gone.”

Chapter 40

The trip back to the house seemed to take twice as long as getting to the barn had. Emma’s fingers slid along the rope, her mitten hitting snags every few feet. Each time she pulled her hand free, she looked around, peering through the blinding rain and hail for any sign or sound of a cow or horse. The animals couldn’t have all just vanished. Someone had to have taken them, and that someone could not have gone far in the storm.

How she wished they’d stayed in the locked house—even wished she had Thayne’s pistol. She had no doubt she could use it now if need be. She’d do anything to protect Joshua. Still fresh in her mind was Thayne’s tale of the terrors Josh had suffered at Christina’s hands. She clutched the little boy closer, for the first time knowing a mother’s fear. She loved Joshua as if he were her own.

The panic gripping Emma’s heart turned partly to relief when her hand hit the railing. The rope had brought them safely through the blinding rain. No one had cut it in her absence. They were safe.

She clamored up the porch steps, threw open the door, stepped inside, and immediately shut the door behind her, throwing the bolt with a heavy finality.
They were alone, but so long as they stayed in the house,
she told herself,
they were safe.
At all costs, she had to protect Joshua.

Again, she thought of Marcus and wondered what had become of him. She prayed he’d seen some of their livestock loose and was busy tracking them down. But somehow, in her heart, she knew that wasn’t the case. She feared that whoever had gotten to the animals in the barn had also intercepted Marcus on his way here.

Dropping to her knees, Emma began removing Joshua’s coat.
Please let Marcus be all right. Let Thayne be all right. Keep us safe until the storm stops and the men can come home. Watch over the animals.
There were too many things to pray about.

Leaving their wet things on the floor, Emma carried Joshua to the kitchen.
Keep things as normal as possible. Stoke the fire. Fix supper.

Instead of the usual smells—the burning pine, simmering soup—the strong aroma of perfume tickled her nose as she entered the kitchen. She held Joshua closer. Everything appeared the same—untouched.

She turned slowly in the doorway, her eyes drawn to the half-open parlor door. With a will of their own, her feet crossed the entryway. Her trembling fingers pushed open the door.

The room was empty.

Relief made her sag against the frame.
It was only my imagination.

“Hello, Joshua.”

Emma whipped her head around toward the stairs. A woman, the bronzed silk of her elegant dress swishing, descended slowly.

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Emma. “The girl in the portrait. How sweet.”

Portrait? She means Mother. How dare she—
For a split second, anger overtook Emma’s fear.

“I’m Christina.” The woman held her hand out. “And you are?”

Keeping her arms firmly wrapped around Joshua, Emma took a step backward toward the door.

A wicked smile curved Christina’s lips. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Alexander is just outside, and I’ve given him orders to shoot anyone who crosses that porch.”

Paralyzed, Emma stared at her.

“Oh, I know what you’re thinking,” Christina said. “
Why
am I here when I should be in Rapid City getting a divorce?”

Joshua whimpered.
Does he recognize her voice?
Emma placed her hand against his head, hoping to soothe him.

“It’s all right,” she whispered.

“Yes, quite all right,” Christina said. “There isn’t going to be any divorce, though perhaps an untimely death or two. And, best of all—” She pulled a small pouch from the pocket of her gown.

Emma recognized it at once.

Christina held it up near her face. She shook the pouch gaily. “It seems my husband has found gold again.”

“Thayne doesn’t mine anymore,” Emma said firmly.

“No. He doesn’t.” Christina surprised her by agreeing. “And he refused to keep any of the gold from our mine near Deadwood—which makes it all the more curious where this came from.” She dangled the pouch from her fingers. “I’m certain that with a little persuasion, he’ll be happy to tell me.”

* * *

Emma sat stiffly on one of the uncomfortable parlor chairs.
This room makes sense now,
she realized.
It was Christina who chose the furniture, decorated it to be something it’s not.
Emma remembered how she and Thayne had held the crystal candlestick holders and toasted. Now she wished she could hurl them to the ground.
If we get out of this—
when
we do—every last thing in this room will burn.
Thayne’s misuse of the bedroom upstairs now seemed perfectly justified.

Joshua squirmed in her arms, and Emma looked down at him and the book in his lap. Pointing to the picture, she whispered the story close to his ear.

Near the fireplace, Christina paced, much as Emma had earlier today.
If only I’d never gone out to the barn. If only I’d gone with Thayne. It doesn’t matter. This would have happened anyway. “If only’s” don’t matter. Take what has happened, and do something good with it.

Joshua batted the book away, arched his back, and rubbed his eyes.

Not now, sweetheart. Please be good.
If he wasn’t . . . Christina had already told Emma that the only reason she and Joshua were still alive was to lure Thayne back home.

“En route to Rapid City,” Christina had said. “He’s going to get a message that will likely persuade him to turn around.” The wicked smile reached her eyes. “Until then, keep the brat quiet.” She looked repulsed as she pointed to Joshua. “Or I might decide we don’t need to use him after all.”

Emma turned Joshua around to face her and tried playing pat-a-cake with him. He wanted nothing to do with that and fussed again.

“Shh,” Emma whispered. “I know you’re hungry and tired and—” The backside of his pants was suddenly warm and wet. Little wonder; it had been hours since she’d changed him.

“What’s wrong with him?” Christina demanded.

“He needs to use the outhouse,” Emma said as an idea seized her. She wasn’t certain what had prompted her to say such a thing or if Christina would believe it. Joshua still wore nappies. Until he could get around on his own, there was no point in trying to teach him about the privy.

“I could take him,” Emma suggested. “You can see it right from the kitchen window.”

“I
know
where it is,” Christina snapped. “Godforsaken place,” she mumbled, pulling the curtain back to look outside. “
Where
is he?”

Joshua started to cry.

Christina advanced toward them, and Emma placed a hand over Joshua’s mouth, certain the woman was about to use the gun dangling from her fingers.

“Get out!” Christina screamed. “Take him out. Take care of him. Shut him up. Alexander,” she yelled at the man in the other room. “Watch them from the window. They’re allowed to go to the outhouse, and that’s it.”