Courting Emma (Little Hickman Creek Series #3) (33 page)

He mulled over his next words then spit them out before
he lost his courage. "Ezra is a sick old man, Emma. I'm thinking he should come here to finish out his years-if he has
years." It was more like weeks probably, days even, but he kept
that thought locked away.

She drew back from him, eyes round and glowing with
befuddlement. "What?"

"He can't live on his own out there anymore. He's not drinking, as far as I can tell. I looked through his cupboards this
morning and couldn't find his stash. I think he's run out."

"That's why he's sick then. He needs a drink. It's always
been that way. He runs out; he gets more. He'll turn ugly if he
goes very many days without his ale. Believe me, I know."

"I know you do, and I'm sorry. But he's not sick because of
going without. He's sick because he's-sick," lie said, reYnem-
bering his promise to Ezra not to divulge the whole truth. "He needs our help. I'll do most of the work as far as his care goes.
You wouldn't have to do much except supply the room, that
little one I stayed in when I was ailing." He turned her chin
with the tip of his finger. "And you did care for me very well,
by the way. I don't know if I've thanked you sufficiently for
that. I know you missed hours of sleep sitting by my bedside
when the chills and fever hit. And on top of that, you still managed to take care of your boarders."

Their eyes locked temporarily before she flipped her wrist
to signify it was nothing. "You thanked me with that big bouquet of flowers from the Hayward's garden, which was more
than enough. I surely didn't nurse you back to health because
I expected soniethin' in return." She glanced away from him,
unable to hide the flush in her cheeks. "And don't forget, that
Clayton girl spent an entire night carin' for you. Matter of fact,
you started recoverin' the very next day."

If he didn't know better, he'd say she was jealous the way
her shoulders reared back and she frowned at the telling. He
decided to test the waters.

"She is a mighty pretty thing."

She shot hint a stony glare.

"What? You don't agree?" he asked.

Prickly as a new rope, she swiveled to retrieve a book from
the nearby stack, a leather-bound copy of Mark Twain's Life on
the Mississippi, and perused its cover.

She was jealous. Inside, he bubbled with pleasure. "Of
course, she's not nearly as pretty as someone else I know." This
he said while leaning in close to get another whiff of her lovely
scent.

She drew back and angled him with a suspicious look. "I
believe we were discussing niy father. You mentioned bringing
him here."

"Ali, yes, can we discuss that?"

"Have you talked to Doc?" she asked, standing and bringing some books with her.

He studied her demeanor, which had quickly reverted to
the mode he'd grown accustomed to-distant. "I have, and
he's not encouraging."

She straightened her shoulders and looked thoughtful.
"You can ask my pa what he thinks about the idea, but I guarantee he'll hate it."

"I know. He's one cranky old nian."

She blew a few hairs out of her face. He studied her nose,
her eyebrows, the sweep of lashes that dropped lazily over her
pretty blue eyes. Her lips were full and delicate, and he wanted
more than anything to kiss them.

As if she'd read his mind and been scalded by the words, she
turned in haste and set about replacing books to their proper
places, according to color-size-title? He didn't know.

What he did know, however, as the walls of his chest felt
ready to collapse, the beat of his heart drumming wildly out of
control, was that somewhere between seventh grade and this
very moment in time, he'd fallen completely, irrefutably, irrevocably in love with Emma Browning.

his is it, folks; your final opportunity to see the amazing, the great, the wonderful Billy Wonder in action. I
have enjoyed my time in Little Hickman, but I regret to say I
am moving on.

Sighs of disappointment rustled through the crowd. "Do
ya hafta go?" piped up Lill Broughton from her front-row position just two feet from Billy's makeshift stage at the back of his
wagon. Along with Eloise Brackett, Sarah Jenkins, and Erlene
Barrington, she had squeezed her way past the crowd to get
a better view of Billy's closing act. Emma stood at the back of
the throng, mildly interested, Liza Broughton at her side. The
two had niet on the sidewalk outside the boardinghouse and
had walked together to see Billy's performance, Lill running
on ahead.

About fifty yards behind the wagon, a couple of dozen
volunteer workers had convened at the site of the new church,
which, by the look of things, was conning along at a fast rate.
The basic structure itself was up, shingled roof nailed in
place, clapboard siding firmly fixed but still unpainted, windows fitted, and the big double-door entryway with ten-footwide cement steps inviting even the shyest stranger through
its portals. Emma found herself watching the church construction with one eye and Billy's show with the other, torn
between the two, especially once she spotted Jon Atkins
amidst the group of church workers and recalled their conversation of less than an hour ago. She rebuked herself for her distraction and forced her focus back to Billy. After all,
he was leaving Little Hickman; it was only right she give hint
her full attention.

Billy's firm mouth gave way to a smile as he eyed the
young girls pressed in at the front of the crowd. With flare, he
removed the black top hat he always wore, swept it wide, and
bowed low. "Afraid so, my clear girl. The Southern states are
calling nie." He then straightened, looked out over the gathering citizens, and pulled back his shoulders. "But do not fear,
my friends. I shall return-and when I do, I will bring with me
the finest, most up-to-date products and remedies available."
His voice had taken on a singsong quality, building with every
syllable. "Why, I'ni told that by the year 1900 we will have a
cure for most everything that ails the human body." Enthusiastic smiles covered the faces of adults and children while
murmurs of delight fluttered from one to the other.

"He's a curious sort of nian, don't you think?" Liza Broughton whispered out of the side of her mouth. "He breezed into
Little Hickman in that colorful rig of his, stirred up all kinds
of skepticism about his medicinal herbs, potions, and magic,
and now he's leaving behind a remarkable number of supporters. Frank Callahan claims his energy's improved since
starting Mr. Wonder's Vegetable Compound, Gladys Hayward
swears his Wondrous Nature's Balm has cured her arthritis,
and Rhoda Marshall says her equilibrium's on the mend since
starting his magnetic treatment. And there are multitudes
more that will vouch for his tonics and cures. Of course, Doc's
all tied in knots, thinks he's a quack, and says if Rhoda, for one,
would lay off the nightcaps, her balance would return of its
own accord." Liza giggled quietly and the lighthearted sound
floated over the air like dust from a feather pillow. She rubbed
her growing, rounded belly and added, "I'm not sure what to think of the nian, a little strange, perhaps-and definitely a
vagabond. Seems to me he'd grow tired of such a lifestyle."

Emilia hesitated to comment, for she'd learned a side
to Billy that few knew. Vagabond, yes, but with good reason.
Who wouldn't want to escape a quiet life as a means of forgetting his past? Whether he'd found any kind of peace in doing
so she couldn't say, but then who in this world could know
true peace-especially after witnessing tragedy and loss? Her
thoughts landed on Jon Atkins. Well, perhaps there were some
exceptions. If anyone seemed at peace, it was him.

Then there were Ben and Liza, Rocky and Sarah, Carl
and Frieda Hardy, the Crunkles, and the Jarvises, to name a
few. All right, maybe peace was possible on certain levels-and
the ability to forgive-as long as the infraction wasn't abuse
or murder. She had a mental list that stretched a mile wide of
reasons why it seemed impossible ever to forgive Ezra Browning.

"And now, before I unveil to you my most sought-after
remedy," Billy was saying, "the one I've been withholding from
you these past few weeks, I shall need a volunteer." Hands shot
up all around, mostly from the teenage variety, with the exception of Lill Broughton, whose yellow-sleeved arm waved in the
air, practically under Billy's nose.

Billy's eyes fell to her, as if they had a choice in the matter.
"All right, young lady, get yourself on up here."

Without hesitation, or assistance, she mounted the steps
leading up to the stage. Her braids flapped in the breeze, one
of their red and yellow ribbons coming loose at the base to
dangle down her front. "What do I have to do?" was her onthe-spot question. "Can I help you do a magic trick? Can you
make soniethin' disappear before my eyes?"

"Oh, that Lill," Liza muttered.

Billy flung his head back and laughed. The crowd twittered with nervous excitement. Apparently he'd been delighting the crowds on a daily basis with his sleight of hand tricks,
using his "magic wand" to make a playing card disappear from
some unsuspecting hand then reappear in some unexpected
place-like under his top hat, or in someone's pocket, or even
inside Freddie Hogsworth's shoe, of all places! From what
Enema had heard, that one gained the man an all new level of
respect, especially when Freddie swore on a stack of Bibles that
he hadn't so much as spoken a word to Billy Wonder before the
trick transpired. Tongues wagged as folks speculated how he'd
pulled it off.

From a hook on the wall, Billy removed a two-foot-long
piece of rope. Giving it a couple of solid yanks on both ends
to show off its sturdiness, he handed one end to Lill while he
held to the other. "Pull as hard as you can, young lady. I want
to make sure folks don't see this as flimsy." With gusto, Lill
tugged at the rope, gritting her teeth in the process. "Harder,"
he pressed. Determined, she dug in deeper and pulled with
all her might.

Billy laughed. "Well done, niy dear." He took the rope
from her possession and looped it over his shoulder, while
from his pocket, he pulled a silky red swatch of cloth. "See
this handkerchief?"

Lilt nodded her head.

"Would you mind stuffing it inside this box here?"

Lilt took the fabric and crammed it into a silver box sitting atop a narrow, wooden table at the front of the stage, then
looked at him for further instruction.

"Very good." He handed her the box's matching lid. "Set
this carefully in place if you don't mind."

Lilt did as told.

"Now, take the rope and tie it carefully around the
box."

Billy retrieved the rope from his shoulder and handed it to
her. She took it, but immediately the thing fell apart, one half
of it falling to the floor. The crowd gasped and Billy feigned
alarm.

"Well, would you look at that?" He bent to retrieve it, and
when he put the two halves together, it seemed magically to
reconnect before the eyes of every onlooker. Even Emma stood
mesmerized.

"How'd you do that?" Lilt's boulder-sized eyes fixed themselves on the now whole rope.

"It must have been your enchanting presence, my dear."
The crowd cheered and clapped, and Lill blushed with excitement. Beside Emilia, Liza clapped in delight.

Billy hushed everyone with a mere hand. "Now, if you
wouldn't mind, tie the rope around this box."

Just as she was about to do it, someone from the crowd
hollered, "First show us the scarf once more."

Billy looked slightly abashed. "Why, of course." Without
hesitation, he lifted the lid and pulled out the scarf-then
quickly jammed it back inside. That seemed to satisfy the
heckler and Lill went back to her task, tying the rope around
the silver box, fastening it with a double knot, and then stepping back when finished.

"Now I should like one more volunteer," Billy announced,
looking out over the large group. Ignoring raised hands, lie
called on Emma.

Her hand went to her throat. She did not relish standing
in front of folks, least of all on a stage where all eyes would be
upon her. She felt her throat go instantly dry and shook her
head, but the cluster of townsfolk wouldn't have it.

"Go up there, Emma. It'll be fun," Liza insisted. The people
applauded and cajoled until, finally, she found herself pushed to
the front and helped up the steps by Billy himself. Flustered, she
looked out over the crowd and saw Jon Atkins and Ben Broughton standing on either side of Liza, Jon smiling with amusement,
his hat resting low on his head so that she missed seeing that
usual twinkle in his eyes. When had they wandered over? Already
flushed from the excitement, she felt her cheeks go even redder.
Lili jumped up and down, unable to conceal her enthusiasm.

Billy draped an arni around Emma's shoulder and turned
her toward the audience. "This here is one fine cook," he
announced, dragging her close to his side. "While in Little
Hickman, I've had the privilege of taking my meals at her
boardinghouse, and I must say I've never tasted finer food.
And such a pretty thing, she is." He gave her shoulder a tighter
than necessary squeeze. When she glanced at Jon, she found
his smile missing.