Emma's Blaze (Fires of Cricket Bend Book 2) (20 page)

“I have nothing to hide from,” she replied, pushing his hands away.

“Only murder.”

“For heaven’s sake,” she bolted to her feet. “That is no longer a concern. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need some air.”

She stomped from the room, a fancy flower pushing her way through a huddled mass of men. Some leered at her as she passed, but she didn’t stop walking.

Hank rose from his chair, and Bill followed suit. The two men stood awkwardly before Hank asked, “Do you mind if I take a moment alone with my wife?”

What was Bill supposed to say?

Hank followed Emma, leaving Bill at the table. He poured another drink from the bottle Hank had left, and drank it fast. Eugenia came back onto the stage. She began to sing a song about ghosts, and Bill let himself listen. Emma’s anger was clouding her judgment, but he couldn’t make her choices for her. He had to trust her. He had to.

***

Emma

She’d expected Bill to be the one who would come after her. Seeing that Hank was the one to follow her out the doors of the hall made her exhale loudly in irritation.

“I feel as if we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot,” he said. “How are you, Emma?”

He didn’t play with fancy phrases now that it was just the two of them. She knew him too well for him to bother.

“I’m fine,” she answered.

“You’re not fine. You’re far from fine.”

“How are you?” she asked in an attempt to change the subject. “I’m sorry if I was rude before.”

“You’re not at all sorry.”

“You’re correct,” she answered as she fiddled with her dress. Why was his presence unnerving her so much? He was a rascal, the worst kind of scoundrel. She hated him. She truly did. “In fairness, I should be allowed to be rude to you.”

“Most likely.” Hank pulled a cigar from his pocket. “I never expected you’d show up here like this.”

“Finding you wasn’t easy.”

“How did you?”

“Brett Baker, and others.” Emma kept her visit to Cricket Bend up her sleeve.

“I never meant for you to find me. I’ve made mistakes. I’d hoped to shield you from them by putting enough distance between us.”

“Grant me a divorce,” she pleaded. “Keep the damn money.”

“It’s McKenzie,” Hank laughed heartily at the realization. “My stars, Emma. You’ve fallen for a cowboy.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks at his teasing. “Bill is a better man than any other I’ve met in my whole life. He’s honest and kind, and—”

“And how soon after meeting him did you exert your feminine wiles to get him to do your bidding and help you find me?”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Wasn’t it?”

Damn, but he knew her well. “Even if it began that way, it isn’t anymore.”

“I’ve always found honesty to be the best way to live one’s life,” Hank said. He puffed at his cigar.

“You’re a hypocrite, talking about honesty.”

“I’ve been called worse than that.”

“You smoke cigars now,” she noted. “Didn’t you once tell me it was a vile habit?”

“It helps quiet the mind,” he said. “Mine needs quieting.”

Emma turned to him. “I don’t understand why you left Fort Worth, and me. I don’t understand what happened since I last saw you, and I sure as hell don’t understand why you won’t divorce me.”

“Maybe it’s best you don’t understand those things, my dear.”

“I stopped being your dear the minute you rode away from Fort Worth,” she said. “I’m going back to my room now. We will talk about this later.”

“I’m sure we will.”

She hiked her skirts up over the wet cobblestone street to get away from him. If only she could get out of earshot before the tears of anger and frustration burst from her. She didn’t have a minute to spare to grab Bill. Her emotions brewed like a storm, and she knew it would be better if she were behind closed doors when it struck.

***

Bill

When Emma didn’t return for a long while, Bill went outside in search of her. What he’d find, he had no idea. Perhaps he’d find she’d killed Hank with her bare hands. Perhaps Hank would have killed her. Perhaps they’d run off together. What the hell did Bill know anymore? But he’d go and fight for Emma, should it came to that. If Porter wanted to brawl, he’d brawl. If he wanted to talk, Bill could talk.

By the time the sun rose, something would be different.

Hank smoked a cigar. The man stared at the dirt.

“Where is she?”

“She told me her mind, and went back to your room. She’s a handful, isn’t she?” Hank asked. “A beauty too. I’ve been all over this great country of ours, and Emma is one of the finest beauties I’ve ever known. She has a way about her that gets under a man’s skin and nags at him, until he’ll do anything she wants. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

“I—”

“There’s no point in pretending otherwise. I know her better than anyone else on this earth does. I’m sure she’s painted me to be the worst kind of villain.”

“Pretty much.”

“But she hasn’t told you the whole story.”

“I suppose you have a different version of the story of you and Haven Frank too. One that spins you in a brighter light.”

Hank’s face changed at the mention of Haven’s name.

“Haven…”

Immediately, Bill realized Emma had withheld that information. “We went there, you know. Emma didn’t tell you?”

“She neglected to share that information.”

“It was Haven who told us where to find you.”

“How is she?”

“Still about the prettiest woman in Texas. Happy.”

“I didn’t know if she got my letters. She never wrote me back.”

“Did you expect her to?”

Hank ignored that. “Does she have children?”

“Big with one right now.”

Hank nodded. “For the record, nothing of consequence happened between the beautiful Mrs. Frank and myself, despite my wishes.”

“Sounds like she’s a smart woman.”

“Time will tell. Though my actions put her in danger, I also played a role in saving her life, as well as Sheriff Anderson’s. I bet the good deputy left that part out of his version of the story.”

“I didn’t come here to talk about them, you know. Give Emma what she wants, and we’ll go and leave you be.”

“Where will you go?”

“We’ll continue up to join my boys on our drive to Abilene, then head back to my ranch.”

“And you think what, that Emma will be your wife?”

“I hope she will. I’ve asked her. Might sound crazy to a man like you, but I love her.”

“And she loves you, I can tell. But she won’t go with you. Not all the way, and not forever. They called her the sparrow for her voice, but she’s a vulture, a scavenger—”

“Shut your mouth. You wanted her to whore.”

“I told her to sing so she wouldn’t have to. A woman alone with no money and no family? Her options were limited. I told her to sing so she wouldn’t have to lower herself that kind of life.”

“But it was fine for Callie Lee.”

“You’ve obviously never tried to talk Callie out of something. Not that our relationship is any of your business. I left Emma so she’d be able to make herself a life the way she wanted, which couldn’t happen with me around. I’m not such a devil as you think, Mr. McKenzie.”

“The money—”

“Is the combined result of Emma’s and my hard work. She can’t lay claim to all of it.”

“The dress—”

“The dress is long gone. I’ve no idea what became of it.” Hank lied. Bill could tell.

“You give Emma the divorce and the pin she wants and I won’t beat the tar out of you.”

“I see you’ve come with demands.”

“And you stay away from Haven Frank too.”

Hank’s eyes widened. “Did the darling Deputy Matthew send you here to say that to me?”

“He asked me to deliver the message.”

“He was never man enough to take me on himself.”

Bill’s fist hit Hank’s face with a resounding slam. The man’s jabbering, his talking in circles and admitting no guilt for any of the trouble he’d caused, nagged at Bill until a punch in the face was the only possible outcome.

Hank collected himself. “That’s supposed to be from Matthew, I assume.”

“Make no mistake. It’s from me too. And any number of other people I reckon would love to do that.”

Blood came from Hank’s nose. He no longer played at being friendly. “Get away from this establishment, Mr. McKenzie. Or I will be forced to have you removed.”

“Fine by me,” Bill replied. “I said what I came to say.”

“You certainly have.” Hank returned to the saloon.

Bill went back to the hotel. Emma lay in bed when he got back to the room, though she was awake. When he walked in the door, she sat up.

“What happened to you?” she asked.

“I talked to Hank,” Bill said.

“Talked?”

“Talked, argued. I hit him. Just once. But I won’t lie. It felt good.”

“Did you manage to change his mind?”

“Nope.”

“Me neither.” Emma lay back on her pillow. “This is a disaster. I’ve come all this way for nothing.”

Bill sat and took off his boots. “Was it really all for nothing?”

“I’m no closer to being free of him and getting my money back than I was two months and hundreds of miles ago. Maybe Appie was right. Maybe I didn’t need to do this.”

Bill pulled off his clothes and slipped under the blankets beside her. “Come here,” he urged.

Emma wound her arms around him. “What did he say to you?”

“Nothing worth hearing.”

She’s a vulture, a scavenger.
Bill shook Hank’s words away. Likely every word the man had ever said in his entire life was a lie. No tears came from her, but she stayed silent for a long time, until her rage gave way to sleep. He heard her breath go gentle.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Emma

There was no way Emma could have slept. Even comfortable against Bill, even after the emotional ups and downs of the day, her mind raced and her heart felt like it would beat out of her chest and attempt crossing the ocean without her.

She’d never been across the ocean. When she’d set out after her money, she’d thought maybe she’d use it to take a trip all over the world on a ship with champagne and fine staterooms. She’d reinvent herself as Widow Porter, and charm all the handsome young society men on board the ship with tales of adventures in the West, and by the time she reached Paris and London she’d be a sensation. She had imagined dining on fire food and wearing lovely gowns and taking handsome lovers.

At least she’d accomplished part of the dream.

Her handsome cowboy slept beside her, his jaw against her temple.

If only Bill knew how much she loved him. It wasn’t as if she could tell him, seeing as how everything she’d done to get them that far had been built on lies and half-truths.

Goddamn Hank. If she was going to make a life with Bill, he needed to get out of their way.

From her bag, she pulled out the package Haven had handed her. Setting a hand on top of the paper, she looked back over her shoulder at Bill.

Ending things with Hank had to be done.

And it was time for Emma to do it, and in grand fashion.

When she sneaked from the room only a short while later, she wore the red dress she’d once thought lost. It still fit, she was pleased to discover. She wore her trail jacket over it, and under the cover of night she hoped she wouldn’t draw too much attention. Hank needed to be given no warning of her coming to see him, or he’d be ready to whirl and charm and throw her off-balance, and she needed to finish things.

Feigning sweet bashfulness, she made her way through the men in the bar and approached the bartender.

“Excuse me. Which room is Hank’s?” She let her voice be higher and flirtier than usual. She pulled at the neckline of her jacket. With any luck, he’d think she was a young woman who didn’t go to the rooms of men at night—the kind who had lots to lose.

“He expecting you?” the bartender asked, not even hiding his glance at the low neckline of the dress.

Emma feigned nervousness. “Yes. Which room is his, please?”

“Back hallway, second door,” the man replied with a wink.

The door to Hank’s room was partially open. She peeked in for a moment before doing anything else. Damn, he was handsome. She remembered the first time she’d ever seen him. He’d leaned against a support pole in the saloon she’d been working hard to clean, and he’d grinned at her when she’d turned around in surprise. Never had she seen a man as good-looking. If she could go back to the beginning, knowing what she knew, would she do it all again?

Hank rifled through a wooden box as he bent over a small desk. His face was down, and she couldn’t see his expression, but he returned the papers to the box and then locked it with a key. He set the box on a shelf.

While his back was to the door, she stepped into the room.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Hank said without turning around. “I can’t imagine Mr. McKenzie would approve.”

“Bill trusts me.”

“Well, love makes a man foolish.”

“What would you know about it? You’ve never loved anyone in your life, you selfish son of a bitch.” Hank turned to her with surprise on his face, and his mouth curled into a smile that nearly stopped her heart. Feelings for him, which she thought she’d buried, rose up, and her throat felt tight. “Are you not happy to see me?” she replied, after swallowing hard. “Sneaking into each other’s rooms in a saloon. Sure brings back memories.”

“Indeed.” Hank folded his arms across his chest and waited for her to make whatever move she was going to. She knew he’d figured she hadn’t come for no reason, and had something up her sleeve.

To show him exactly what was up her sleeve, she dropped her jacket to the floor.

As Emma watched with glee, Hank’s green eyes took in the red silk, the short part of the skirt in front, and the low neckline. His hands fell to his sides, and his mouth opened as if words were about to burst from him. Emma couldn’t help but smile. She’d startled him, as she’d meant to do. Hank’s confidence melted away. The thrill of vindication consumed her.

His voice was rough when he finally spoke. “Where did you get that?”

“Why, Hank, you look startled.”

“That is an apt description. Where did you get that?”

“Where do you think I got it?”

“Tell me where you got that dress, Emma.”

“An astonishing young woman named Haven, in a remarkable little town called Cricket Bend. Have you ever been there?” She enjoyed his discomfort. As she’d expected, the sound of Haven’s name made Hank wince as if he were in physical pain. Emma kept talking. “She gave it to me after I told her it had been mine. Said she got it from you, but it was Callie’s.”

“I…”

“Shut up, Hank. It’s my turn to speak. You stole this dress from me, and passed it on to Callie as if it were nothing, as if I were no one. When you got bored with Callie, you passed it to Haven. This dress has traveled, Hank. All three of us have worn it. Your three supposed loves, your three fires.” Emma took hold of the skirt in both her hands and held it out. She resisted the urge to do a spin. “Like you, this dress has been all over. But it was mine first, if you don’t remember. I had it made, and I paid for it, and you stole it when you ran off. Just like you stole my money.”

How she wanted to slap him. She very nearly did.

“I will not try and argue with you,” Hank said. His tone was annoyingly calm. “I’ve met your temper.”

“And I’ve seen yours,” Emma answered.

A long silence fell. Hank stood by his desk, his eyes on the dress she wore, and his thoughts were clearly elsewhere. Emma would have made a deal with the devil to know what he was thinking. Was it of her? Had he ever thought about her, even when they’d been together? They’d had good times. Explosive arguments, passionate nights, and full-bodied gales of laughter, but all of that had happened a long time ago. He’d been her world, but the man before her had changed.

“How is she?” Hank finally asked.

Haven. Again, he was thinking of Haven. The sweet young woman had done something to him that Emma never could. Perhaps he loved her. She’d certainly left him lingering, no doubt thinking of the one woman he’d wanted and not been able to have. No doubt it was driving him crazy. It was obvious he wasn’t thinking of Emma. Anger rose in her belly. He probably hadn’t thought of her for a minute in their entire relationship. Until Haven, Hank had likely never thought about anyone except himself.

“You son of a bitch,” she cried. Her furious fingers began to tear at the hooks of the dress. She pulled the straps off her shoulders and stepped from the skirts. Once the dress lay on the floor, she hooked her boot on the fabric and kicked it at him. He caught the wad and looked at the red silk. “Keep the damn thing. As a reminder of the trouble and the pain you cause everyone you’ve ever met.”

Hank reached for her. “Causing you pain was never my intention.”

“You left me alone,” she pushed him away. “With no money and nothing but a job singing for rough men.” He let the dress fall to the ground between them. “You left me to be a whore.”

“And did you come to such ruin?”

“Nearly.”

“Nearly, but you didn’t.”

“Of course not.”

“Of course not. Emma, you forget how well I know you. You’re tough as nails and never do a thing you don’t want to do. If I’d thought for a second you would turn to whoring, I’d have never left you.”

“I missed the stars out of you,” she confessed.

Hank pressed his lips to hers. Emma closed her eyes, and remembered how much she’d adored him so long ago. He’d swept into her life and taken her from cleaning floors to singing onstage in fancy dresses. Along the way, he’d swept her up too, and been both Prince Charming and the fairy godmother to her Cinderella. To live up to those expectations was a lot to ask of a man.

He wasn’t the man she wanted to be kissing.

He wasn’t Bill.

Emma put her palms on Hank’s chest and pushed him away. “Stop. You can’t trick me this time.”

“I am not trying to trick you.”

“Divorce me, Hank. It’s simple. I’ll leave you be forever.”

“Having my name is what’s kept you from being hunted down by any number of bounty hunters.” Hank shook his head. “Keep my name.”

“I don’t need it,” she said. “Sheriff Anderson is going to clear me. I have to make my own way now.”

“With McKenzie?”

“If he’ll still have me.” Emma stammered, “He-I-I lied to him. He’s still mad at me, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.”

“Not mad enough to have let you come here alone, though.” Emma knew Hank was right. Bill still loved her, and he was still there in New Orleans. Hank kept talking. “You have been running from the ghost of Angus Keene for going on ten years. He’s dead and rotted away by now, whether it was by your hand, or whether he lived a few more years before dying. If Sheriff Anderson keeps his word, which he will, the rest of your life is ahead of you. Bill McKenzie offered you a life worth living every second of. Go with him.”

“Hank—”

“I’ll grant your damn divorce on one condition. You go to your cowboy and go where he takes you. You stay there and, dammit, be happy. For once in your miserable life, be happy.”

“Fine.”

The easiness of her agreement surprised him. “Fine.”

Emma bent and grabbed her jacket from the floor, pulling it on over her underthings and buttoning it up high to hide her indecency as best she could. She heard Hank shift behind her, a creak of the floorboard. When she left the room, she might never lay eyes on him again. There was one more thing Emma wanted to say, whether she should actually say it or not, and she didn’t hold back the words. “Callie Lee has a son.”

“I’m very happy for her.”

“He’s got green eyes and thick dark hair, and I could tell from a mile away he’s yours.” Hank’s face lost all color. “I imagine you’ll be tarred and feathered, if not worse, should you ever step foot in Cricket Bend again, but you will do right by that little boy. Do you understand me? For the first time in
your
miserable life, Hank Porter, you will do something right, and you will do it for him. Promise me.”

“What’s his name?”

“Nate.”

“Nate,” Hank repeated. He sat on the bed as if his knees were giving out. “Nathan. Nathaniel. Nate Lee. Not Porter. I’d bet my life and liberty Callie didn’t give the boy my name.”

“Promise me you will do right by him.”

“I promise.”

“And you will leave Haven be along the way.”

He shook his head. “I can’t promise that.”

That startled Emma. No cleverness lined his words. “You love her something awful, don’t you?”

“Now, my dear.” Hank smiled. “I recall you telling me not ten minutes ago that I’ve never loved anyone in my life, and that I’m a selfish son of a bitch.”

“Maybe I was wrong. What the hell do I know about anything? But leave her be, Hank. Leave her to her happy life and her husband, whose eyes are filled with stars every time he looks at her. If you love her, you’ll do that. Folks aren’t put on this earth for your pleasure and amusement. She’s married and happy, and you leave her be or I swear I will come back here and beat you to a pulp myself.”

“Is that all?”

“I’ll bring down the wrath of God and the McKenzie boys on you, if you go against what I’m telling you. And they’re a rowdy bunch of hooligans.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Hank whispered. “I’m proud of you. I don’t know if you care to know that, but—”

“I do,” Emma said. “I’d like to slap you across the face about five times, but I’ll never be sorry I met you.”

“I’ll have the papers sent over first thing in the morning,” Hank said.

“I thought you said divorce was an ordeal.”

“There’s a man who owes me a few favors.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“What’s your hotel?”

“The Crescent.”

“Fine. Does that mean this is goodbye?”

“This is goodbye.” Emma didn’t know what else to do, so she offered him her hand. A handshake, after everything they’d been through together, seemed odd. Other options weren’t coming to mind.

When Hank’s hand joined hers, she felt him pass something into her fingers. Small, cool metal with tiny bumps. There was only one thing it could be.

“Goodbye, my Sparrow.”

Emma looked into her open palm and saw the pin—the tiny silver bird with the stones. She closed her fingers around it and turned her back on him to walk out of the room, in only her underthings and her jacket.