Courting Emma (Little Hickman Creek Series #3) (44 page)

Over supper, Jon watched Emma's boarders eat with particular care. Gideon had tucked in his shirt, Charley had greased
his hair down, and Elliott looked to have shaved for the second
time that clay. Wes sat straighter than normal and cleared his
throat often, and Harland, who wore dirt beneath his fingernails like he would an article of clothing, had scrubbed them
spotless. Even Luke sported a new shirt. It appeared every
male there, with the exception of Ezra, had cone to the table
with the intent of impressing Grace Giles.

Jon had to admit she was an appealing woman, full of zing
and zip, a regular fireball. Even Ezra had warned to her stories. Every time Jon had tried nudging him to his room to rest,
Ezra declined the offer, seeming more interested in hearing
what his cousin had to say.

And she'd said plenty, from her accounts of her childhood
and the wonderful parents who had raised her and her two sisters to her recollection of her several aunts and uncles-and
grandparents-all of which would have been Ezra's family as
well.

"We had plenty of reunions," she'd said.

"I never went," Ezra said. "Least, not that I can recall.
Most tines niy folks kep' me hone or just didn't go to family
gatherin's."

Emma had shifted in her seat and shot Jon a worried
glance. What? he'd asked with his eyes, but she merely shook
her head at him.

Grace leaned forward in her chair. "Grandfather was an
old sourpuss. Do you remember anything about him?"

Ezra looked thoughtful. "Naw. I don't recall much about'im
or lily grandmaw. Seemed like lily family was all distant from
me. Even my own ma and pa was absent most o' my growin'
up years. Them varmints, Howard and Hester, was meaner'n
goats on a leash, too. Pushed me around ev'ry chance they got.
Called me names crude enough to turn snakeskin inside out.
Once I left home I didn't care if I ever laid eyes on 'em again,
and I don't know to this day what become of 'em."

A shadow had darkened Grace's face. "I can't say I know
myself. In my opinion, they were ignorant people, not worth
worrying over. I was just a wee thing when they were teenagers, but I recall Mania saying they were troublemakers, spoiled
rotten, she said. And by the time I was old enough to remember anything about you, you'd already gone out on your own.
Mania said she used to bring you to the farm from time to time.
Before any of us girls were born. Do you remember that?"

Sparks lit in the old guy's eyes, and he tried to pull himself upright. "Course I do. I couldn't have been more'n five,
though." His lungs rattled noisily. "Your ma used to make fine
oatmeal cookies; I remember that. I'd sit high as I could in a
chair at her big table and dip a cookie into a tall glass o' milk.
Your pa'd take me fishin'. But there cone a (lay I quit goin'
there. Couldn't tell ya why. That's when she took to sendin' me
little notes."

"Mania says Aunt Phoebe stopped allowing the visits."

"My ma, ya mean." Ezra had angled her with a curious
look.

Grace crinkled her finely sculpted brows. "Uh, yes."

Jon turned his attention back to the polite conversation
taking place at the supper table. Ezra nodded off a couple of
times while trying to spoon applesauce into his mouth. Jon
nudged him awake.

Emma shook her head in dismay.

Something was seriously amiss, but Jon couldn't put his
finger on it. He determined to corner Emma later that evening.

exhausted from her exceedingly long day, Grace excused
herself to go upstairs shortly after dinner. Emma, standing in the entryway to the music room, book in hand, promised to join her soon.

"No need to hurry, honey. I'm plum tuckered out and
won't be good company. You take your time and don't waste a
second worrying over nie. I'll be sleeping before the first stars
cone out." She looked around the room at the gawking boarders, all of whom had lingered in the main rooms after supper.
"Good night, gentlemen."

Everyone leaped to his feet when she started up the stairs
and wished her a pleasant evening. Jon nearly laughed aloud
at the way they stumbled over each other to make the best
possible impression. He might have told them none of them
would ever measure up to the genteel Grace Giles, but he kept
his thoughts to himself.

"Emma and I are going for a walk," he announced from
Ezra's doorway, having seen the fellow to his bed. He stared
her down, as if daring her to challenge him.

Her lips parted in surprise. The book went to her chest,
where she clutched it with both hands. "I am-we are?"

Grace halted midway up the stairs and pivoted. "That's a
lovely idea. I'd take a wrap, though, Emma dear; there's a chill
in the air."

Jon pushed down the urge to tell her a wrap wasn't necessary. He'd be glad to keep her warm.

As if she read his thoughts, Eninia sent him a warning glance. "Well, I suppose a short walk couldn't hurt. I'll get my
cape," she said, disappearing into the kitchen.

"Nice night for a stroll," Wes said, reseating himself on the
sofa. "Appears someone's finally caught that girl's eye."

"Ain't no man ever succeeded in courtin' 'er, far as I know,"
said Harland.

Gideon sniffed, pulled a hand down over his sallow face,
snagged a cigar from his front pocket, and meandered toward
the door. "Ain't no nian ever come along good enough for cour-
tin' 'er." Gid angled Jon with a flicker of amusement. "Till now,
anyways.

Jon worried that his heart had jumped to his sleeve several weeks ago. Had everyone been watching his reactions
to Emma's every move? He laughed, albeit a weak-sounding
chortle. "Don't go jumping the gun, fellas. We're just going for
a walk."

Charlie stood at the base of the stairs just feet away from
Jon. He finger combed his reddish-brown hair and gave a
churlish grin. "Uh-huh."

"Ain't got no intentions of lookin' at that full moon, do
ya?" Harland asked. That got a rise out of everyone.

Grace cleared her throat, stilling the laughter. "You men
are too much. Why, you'd think you had nothing better to do
with yourselves."

As if duly reprimanded, Gideon opened the door and disappeared to the front porch, Harland walked to the parlor table
and removed a deck of cards from the drawer, Wes snatched
up the detective novel he'd been reading, and Charley headed
for the library.

Grace winked at Jon and turned on her heel.

They passed Luke lighting the lamps on Main Street. His
grin took up his whole face when he spotted then, the long pole
he held in his hands to light the gas lamps weaving precariously.
"H-hey, if it ain't Maniss Emma and the p-p-preacher."

Jon laughed. "You're doing a fine job there, Luke. Don't
know what Hickman would do without you." The lad's smile
grew wider yet, his pudgy cheeks fairly glowing with pride.

They strolled by. Emma tried to count the stars that
peeked out one by one, marking their spot in the dusky sky. A
squirrel bounded down a tree, darted past the post office, and
headed for the alley. No-name, who'd cone out from under
the porch to follow Jon and Emma up the street, perked up at
the sight of the critter, but quickly lost interest when it looked
like chasing it would require more energy than he was willing
to sacrifice. A few townsfolk mingled about, most on a mission
to head home, either on foot or on horseback. Jon lifted a
hand to wave at everyone who passed.

"Is there anyone in this town you don't know?" Emma
asked. She'd clasped her hands behind her as they walked,
taking care not to brush against him. A case of the jitters made
her legs feel weak and quivery.

Jon gave a quiet laugh. "I suppose I do make it ny business to know folks. Goes with the job."

His deep voice resonated off the walls of Sam's Livery when
they walked past it, setting off a string of whinnying noises
from several horses locked away in their stalls.

"You're a friendly man. You talk to everyone who crosses
your path."

"You meant that in a good way, I hope."

"Of course."

Jon kicked a pebble, which sailed several feet. Eninia
couldn't help but glance down at the size of his feet. Long best described them. Like the rest of his frame. Why, her head just
reached his shoulders.

"It's nice your cousin traveled all this way to see you."

Keeping pace with him, she lifted her face to look at him
and smile. "You wouldn't believe how shocked I was when she
climbed down off Mr. Brackett's rig at noon today and said,
`Emma?' Oh, my stars, I almost fainted when she introduced
herself." They shared a moment of easy laughter. "She's
so-so vibrant and interesting, and pretty, don't you think?"

He gazed down at her and winked. "No prettier than
you.

The lump that formed in her throat went down hard.
"Oh."

He gave a deep chuckle. "You're a beautiful woman,
Emma Browning, and the strangest part is you don't even
know it."

Now it was her turn to kick a stone. "I look in the mirror
every niornin', Reverend Atkins. I must be lookin' at someone
different than the lady you're describin'."

When the sidewalk ended, he took her by the elbow and
helped her down. They'd reached the end of Main Street.
Stopping on the dusty path, he turned her to face him, gently
cupped her chin, and leaned in close. "You need to start seeing
yourself as God sees you, Emma, and stop putting yourself
down. He has a purpose and plan for you that far exceed your
imagination. If you could learn to trust Him, that plan would
begin to unfold before your eyes."

His touch set off a warmth that tingled down her spine. "I
think I'ni beginnin' to see that. At least, somewhat."

"Really?" Surprise nixed with pleasure washed over his
face. He pulled back his sturdy shoulders and straightened to
his full height. "Tell me about it."

She bit her lower lip until the pressure stung. "Grace told
me some things today, things about my father's past. It's helped
to put things in perspective for me, but it's also filled me with
concern.

His expression stilled. "I knew something had you troubled.
I saw it in your eyes all day." The hand that cupped her chin
now moved to her shoulder. In the distance, a twig snapped
and an owl sent out a lonely sounding, "Whoo-whoo." Noname took a moment to poke his nose in a nearby bush then
sat on his haunches and sniffed the air.

"What kinds of things did she tell you?"

She sucked in a heavy breath. "Well, for starters, the people
who raised my pa weren't his real parents."

He looked only mildly surprised. "Who were they?"

"His aunt and uncle." A tiny tear pushed out the corner of
one eye, and she felt a stinging sensation in her throat. "His
birth mother's stepfather raped and-and impregnated her
when she was only thirteen."

A look of disbelief crossed his face as he heaved a choked
sigh. "Oh, dear God, what is this world coming to?"

"When she gave birth to her baby, she didn't know what to
do with him, so she gave him to her older sister, Phoebe.