Twice Blessed (23 page)

Again she laughed. “We had a good reason then.”

“Don't you think I might have a good reason tonight?”

She put her hand in his and let him bring her to her feet. There was an odd intensity in his voice, and she guessed he wanted to speak to her about something important when no other ears could listen. A throb of anticipation rippled through her. Maybe it was no more than he had found a place where they could be alone and rediscover rapture. As she imagined lying with him in a green bower, she had to fight to keep her feet from running.

The river's current had slowed to its normal spring speed, and Emma could see a few branches bouncing on the water. The moon was new, so only starlight glimmered in the river. Walking down the hill to the narrow shore that was edged with trees and wildflowers that had begun to bloom, she smiled when Noah swung their hands between them. She looked back up the hill and saw the town's buildings blocking out a portion of the sky. A few windows were lit with lamps, but most were dark. In the distance, she heard a roar of laughter, but here they could have been the only living beings in the world.

“Do you ever go across the river to Kentucky?” Noah asked without preamble.

“I have once or twice. The closest bridge to span the Ohio is nearly a day's ride south and west of here.”

“A single strand of water keeps Indiana and Kentucky so separated. Sometimes, it's the simplest things that keep places and people apart.”

She was uncertain how to answer, because she had no idea why he had asked her to come here to speak of this.

“But traditions keep us together, don't they?” he asked with a chuckle. “Weddings and graduations and funerals and births and all the other rituals of our lives. Traditions are important, you know.”

“I know.”

“We really shouldn't go against them,” he said as they continued to walk through the soft darkness.

“Really?” She smiled up at him.

“It brings bad luck.”

She gave an exaggerated shudder. “I think, after that flood, we've had enough bad luck to last a lifetime.”

“I agree.” He released her hand and stopped.

When she turned to face him, he dropped to one knee and clasped her hand between his. Her fingers trembled as she gazed down into his upturned face. Maybe he was just jesting with her. Maybe …

“Emma, will you marry me?” he asked quietly. “I've been thinking of asking you for some time now, but the time never seemed right.” He smiled. “Too many children and other folks around. When you caught the bouquet, it seemed the time was perfect to ask you, because tradition deems you should be the next one married.”

She drew her hand out of his. “This is a surprise.”

“Why? I thought you understood after what we shared the night of the barn raising that I intended to ask you to marry me.” He chuckled. “I would have asked you that night, but I seemed to have my mind—and my mouth—on other things.”

“But it's still a surprise to be asked now, Noah.”

He clasped her hands again. “So will you marry me?”

“I don't know.”

His smile vanished as he stood. “Now I'm surprised. That isn't the answer I'd thought you'd give. I thought you'd say yes and feared you'd say no.”

“But that answer is the truth.” Now she was not being completely honest. She
did
want to marry him. She wanted it with all her heart. If she could be certain her past would never catch up with her, she would have thrown her arms around his shoulders as she told him that yes, oh, yes, she wanted to be his wife.

“Is it because of Belinda?”

“Belinda?” she gasped. “What does Belinda have to do with this?”

He shrugged. “I don't think she has anything to do with your reluctance, but I'm grasping at straws here, sweetheart. I know you love me.”

“You do?”

Even in the starlight, she could see his eyes twinkling as he caressed her face and said, “Yes, I do. What I don't know is why you won't marry me when you love me.” He grasped her shoulders as his mouth found hers with ease through the darkness.

She clung to him as if she feared the river would overflow its banks and sweep her away from him. The dark and cold torrent of her past, more vicious and unforgiving than a flood, could tear them apart.

As his kiss deepened, she let her thoughts drift away on the waves of pleasure that surged over her. She ran her fingers up his strong chest, then beneath his coat to stroke his back as he pulled her even closer. Her breath was ragged when he lifted his lips away.

“Tell me,” he said, “why you can kiss me like that and don't want to become my wife.”

“Have you mentioned anything to Belinda about this?”

He frowned. “I thought you said she had nothing to do with your hesitation.”

“She doesn't.” She dampened her lips before saying, “But you should be sure she won't resent that you're asking someone to replace her mother.”

“Belinda does not remember her mother.”

“I didn't realize …”

“Her mother was killed in a fire.” He closed his eyes. His breath sifted out of him in a long, slow sigh. “I was able to save only Belinda.”

“The scars on your leg!”

“From that fire. If not for the need to take care of Belinda, who was little more than a newborn, I don't know how I would have survived the guilt and the grief of not being able to save the others in the house, too.”

“Noah, I had no idea.”

He seized her shoulders as his voice became urgent again. “Sweetheart, that's all in the past. I've come to terms with the guilt, and I've learned that the grief will be a part of me forever.” His fingers tightened on her, and she saw strong emotions stiffening his face. “That's the past, Emma. I want to have a future here in Haven, and I want you to be part of that future.”

“It isn't that simple.”

“Why not?”

“I can't explain.”

“Can't?” His hands dropped away from her shoulders. “Why not, Emma?”

“There are so many things to consider.”

“If you're worried about Sean, I've already spoken with him, and he's given his blessing.”

“Because he wants to attend another wedding and the party afterward.”

“Whatever the reason, he's agreeable to this.”

She nodded. “I know, for we spoke about this very subject just before he went off to bed tonight.” Looking up at him, she whispered, “We spoke of families and how families are created.”

Noah's smile returned. “So if he's willing, why aren't you?” His lips pressed against her neck, eliciting another quiver of longing from her. “And you are so willing, sweetheart.”

“The store—”

His curse echoed across the water. “Emma, if you don't want to marry me, all you have to do is say so.”

She closed her eyes and again imagined herself in his arms as she gave him a breathless yes to his proposal. “I can't say I don't want to marry you.”

“But?”

“Please give me some time to consider your proposal.”

“Time?” He jerked her back into his arms so fast that she would have lost her footing if he had not pressed her to his chest.

His mouth on hers was not gentle, for his kiss revealed his unsated desire for her. He released her, and she wobbled. His hand beneath her elbow steadied her.

“I don't want to wait any longer to have you with me every night,” he said. “Why do you want to waste time arguing about this when you must know I love you?”

“You love me?” she whispered, as her heartbeat thudded in her ears.

“Why else would I ask you to be my wife?”

Again she closed her eyes. The answer to his question burned in her mind, an answer that demanded she speak it because she wanted to be forthright with him. But how could she tell this honest man how her first husband had married her simply because she gave him respectability in their small town and the opportunity to rob nearby banks? Would he change his mind because she had been so stupid? She did not want to believe that, but she had seen those she had thought would be friends all her life turn their backs on her when they accepted as the truth the malicious tales about her.

Opening her eyes, she gazed up at him. He was not Miles Cooper. He was Noah Sawyer, a good and gentle man who had asked her to marry him because he
loved
her.

She loved him, too. She loved him with all her being, and she wanted to spend every night with him and every day and all the years they could have together.

Seven years had passed since she escaped the hangman's noose in Kansas. For seven years, she had lived here in Haven, where she had built a new life. Seven long years, and there had been no hint anyone was still in pursuit of her. Seven years during which she had visited Lewis Parker's sheriff's office in the courthouse regularly and had seen the wanted posters on his wall. Although she knew there had been one describing her, for she had seen it posted in St. Louis, she had never seen such a wanted poster in Haven.

Seven years of her life had been lost to that one horrible incident in her past. How much more was she going to sacrifice to her past? This love had come into her life when she had least expected it, and she would be a fool to toss it aside. Noah had said he had learned to put his past in the past. He could help her do the same while she reveled in his love.

Putting her hands up on either side of his face, she murmured, “Yes, Noah.”

“Yes?” His eyes widened as if he could not believe what he had just heard. “Yes? You'll marry me?”

“Yes.”

“I should ask you why you changed your mind, but I don't care.” He kissed her lightly. “All I care is that you're going to be my wife.”

As she welcomed his kiss, she hoped that was all she would care about from this point forward, too.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Sean was not the only who thought it was a shame for Emma to agree with Noah that their wedding should not be a grand one like the one just celebrated on the green. As soon as Alice Underhill heard how Emma and Noah planned simply to say their vows in front of Reverend Faulkner and two witnesses, the schoolteacher stormed into the store.

Emma smiled at her friend, but finished figuring out Mrs. Randolph's bill at the counter. When Alice continued to frown, Emma sighed. She had heard Reverend Faulkner greet her friend outside on the porch, and she knew Alice must be upset with the quiet wedding she had planned.

“Yes, Mrs. Randolph,” Emma said automatically, for she had repeated the same words every day for the last two weeks, “it's too bad that you haven't heard back on your letter from Washington, D.C. It does take a while for mail to get from here to there and back.”

“Has the mail been delivered today?” the old woman asked, tapping her fingers impatiently on the counter. She reached into a nearby jar and pulled out a handful of peppermints and set them on the counter. Mrs. Randolph only ate sweets when she was greatly perturbed.

“The mail came in this morning, and it's all sorted.” She put her hand on the envelope in her apron pocket. The return address was the Children's Aid Society. Although she wanted to read it, she had not had a chance. It seemed as if everyone in Haven had schemed to keep her from reading it. Mornings when the mail arrived were always the busiest at the store. Usually that pleased Emma, but not today.

With a start, she realized she could not remember the last time she had received a personal letter. She had thought so often of sending a letter to her sister and brother, for she longed to know how they fared and how their lives had unfolded for the past seven years. Even more, she wanted to ask them one simple question: Did they believe she was guilty, as so many others had?

“Hmph! I'd think those men in Washington, DC, would know the importance of getting back to me speedily.” Mrs. Randolph picked up her purchases and went out of the store, mumbling to herself.

Emma came around the counter. “Alice, will you watch to make sure Mrs. Randolph goes to her house and no farther?”

“Emma, we need to talk.” Alice folded her arms in front of her black blouse, which was dusted with chalk from the schoolroom. “Right away.”

Pulling out the letter from her pocket, Emma said, “I've been waiting all day to see if this the news we've been hoping for about Sean's sister. Please watch Mrs. Randolph while I put the pot on the stove and read my letter. Then we can enjoy a nice cup of tea.”

“Very well.” Alice's frown did not lessen, but she went to the door to watch that the old lady went safely along the street.

Emma set the cast iron kettle on the stove and sat in the rocking chair in front of it. Her fingers trembled as she stared at the letter. Taking a deep breath, she opened it and read the single page.

My dear Miss Delancy
,

We are in receipt of your letter requesting information about Maeve O'Dell. First of all, let me say that I am speaking on behalf of the whole Children's Aid Society when I write that we are so pleased to hear of how well Sean O'Dell has adjusted to his new life
.

At this time, we have no information on his younger sister. We have workers in the area where Sean reported he had last seen his sister. They will continue to make inquiries about a six-year-old girl with that name, and this office will check with orphanages and other children's asylums here in the city, but you must understand how difficult it is to find a single child in such a populous area as New York City
.

Please be assured and please assure Sean that we are making all efforts to find the child. We know it is not easy to be patient when you are so concerned for both Maeve and Sean O'Dell, but that is the only counsel I can offer at this point. I will be sure to contact you immediately if we find the child
.

It was signed with Mr. Barrett's scrawling signature. With a sigh, Emma lowered the page to her lap. She must find a way to tell Sean without breaking his heart or destroying his hopes.