His hands moved to her shoulders and gripped her. His skin pulled taut over his cheekbones and his nostrils flared.
This close up, Emma was doing everything she could not to faint in her chair. His face was cut in granite lines, and his black-clad figure was massive, moving toward hers as if he would occupy the same space. His hands gripped her in a deathly hold that felt like possession, like he had every right to touch her in that manner and the muscles in his neck were tightening and pulsing, showing the veins and tendons that were the picture of strength itself.
His head was leaning into hers and suddenly the close proximity sent nerves screaming through her. She leaned away and said the first thing she could think of to sidetrack him because thinking about being kissed by him and it actually happening were two entirely different things. "Do you think the sheriff will go after the men who robbed the stage?"
He seemed to freeze in place above her. His jaw clenched tight and he lifted himself away from the chair she sat in and stood to his full height. "Yeah, at first light this morning, he and his men were leaving. They'll get 'em."
"When will--when will he know about me? I mean--that I was on the stage and now I'm here with you?"
"He knows already."
"How?"
"I sent one of my men to town with a message. He knows you're here with me, that you're unhurt except for the sprain." He turned in her direction and looked fully at her and his voice dropped a degree. "He knows you're under my protection."
Emma swallowed and the blood began to pound in her temples. Heat stole over her face, and his words sent a quiver of both fear and excitement down her spine. Under his protection. It sounded so innocuous at first thought, but she didn't believe his meaning was innocuous at all. There was something in his tone that she'd never heard anyone use before. "How long will I be here?"
"I don't know for sure. I can't answer that yet. Cody will be back tonight and I'll have a better idea of what's going on."
"And my things? I don't even have a change of clothes." She lowered her eyes and confessed, "And I think my dress needs to be laundered. I'm afraid I managed to get it dirty."
"That wouldn't have happened if you'd stayed put."
"Yes," she agreed mildly.
"I'll have Maria find you something to wear while she's washing your things."
"I don't want to be any trouble, I can wash my own clothes."
"Guess you should have thought of that before you went gallivanting all over the countryside." His voice was back to being hard and sarcastic.
"All over the countryside? I went in the yard." Her tone held a touch of annoyance.
The look he gave her indicated he wasn't pleased with her argument. "But you wouldn't have fallen on your sweet little backside and tracked dirt through my kitchen if you'd been minding me, now would you?"
"What do you want from me? I apologized once already. I'm sorry. I'll try to do better." Her words were stilted.
"I don't want you to try to do better, Emma. I want you to do better. Stay put. This is rough country. What if there'd been a snake? Or an Indian?"
"An Indian?" her voice quavered.
He was lying about that, he knew. The threat of Indians was almost nil on his ranch. He was just trying to scare her a bit. Put some fear in her. Until she healed properly, outside on his ranch was no place for her. "Could happen," he replied as casually as he could.
Luke and Emma both heard the bang of the box on the counter at the same time and they turned to see Maria with her hands on her hips and a frown on her face looking at Luke like she didn't recognize who he was. Her voice fairly bristled when she spoke. "What kind of nonsense are you scaring her with?"
Luke shook his head once at Maria and Emma could tell that whatever the other woman wanted to say wouldn't be voiced now. Luke had that look on his face that was silencing the older woman.
Luke rammed his hat back on his head and never glanced in Emma's direction again. He looked at Maria when he spoke. "She was out in the garden and fell. She needs something else to wear while you wash her clothes."
He didn't stop for an answer, just slammed through the backdoor without waiting for his lunch.
Maria looked at her and asked, "What's got him so riled?"
Emma cleared her throat and said softly, "Evidently I didn't obey his command to stay in the house and he's angry about it."
"Ahh," Maria rolled her eyes and made the noncommittal response.
Emma changed the subject as gracefully as she could. "Can I help you with lunch?"
Maria smiled and replied with a laugh when she saw what was on the table, "I guess squash will be on the menu soon?"
An hour later, Emma was full as a tick from the thick, creamy tomato soup she'd eaten for lunch. She had had a bath and was now wearing one of Maria's dresses. Although it covered her decently enough, it kept slipping off one shoulder as she sat and peeled and quartered the squash for supper.
She listened as Maria chatted away happily. "And our daughter now has three babies of her own."
"Where does she live?" Emma asked.
"She lives in Denver with her husband and his parents."
"That must please you that they are in the same state and not across the country."
"Yes, it does, but I have to confess that I get a bit jealous of the other grandmother. She gets to see those babies everyday while I only get to see them once a year or so."
"It must be wonderful , though, having such a large and happy family. You seem very proud of them." Emma chatted as she layered the squash in a casserole dish with onions, butter, and breadcrumbs while she dreamed of big families.
"Yes, very proud. I count my blessings every day."
"I've never had any family." Emma didn't intend to turn melancholy, but with all the talk of family, it just slipped out.
"None? No family at all?" Maria sounded astonished and upset at the same time.
"None at all. I was raised in an orphanage my whole life. In St. Louis. I never knew who my parents were."
"That is so sad, Emma." The older woman had stopped what she was doing completely and stood watching Emma with an unreadable expression on her face.
"The past is in the past and it wasn't so bad anyway, really. I was raised with a wonderful girl, Evelyn Turner, and we're still friends to this day." Emma tried to be as upbeat as she could and looked up from what she was doing with a smile for the other woman to put her at ease.
Maria bent and braised the roast with drippings from a large spoon. "What did you do when you left the orphanage?"
"I had to stay until I was eighteen, unless I wanted to run away, which I didn't. They helped me secure a position with a widow in town as a sort of companion. I read to her, took her to church on Sunday, helped with the light housework and such, helped manage her household, that sort of thing. She only recently passed away." Emma's voice dwindled to a halt when she thought about the old woman that had become a great friend to her.
"Well when in the world did you find time to get married youself?"
The question threw Emma for a loop and as she glanced down to regroup, Maria must have thought she'd pried because the other woman continued, "Maybe it's something you don't wish to speak of?"
Emma nodded her head in agreement.
Maria brightened and went on, "And now you're having an adventure and going west, though it's a shame about yesterday."
"Yes." Emma stood to her feet and began carrying the casserole dish to the stove. Her limp was more pronounced than usual. She had well and truly bruised the bottom of her foot, darn it.
"You're going to hurt yourself further if you keep putting your weight on that ankle, and Luke will have my head for it."
Emma agreed and soon found herself ensconced in the same chair trying the read the same book that she had earlier in the day.
She must have fallen asleep because she woke at a sharp sound and jerked in her chair and looked up to find Luke watching her silently from a few feet away.
She watched him warily as she lifted a hand to smooth back the hair that had fallen over her face.
His eyes dropped and as she came fully awake, Emma gasped as she looked down and found the neckline of her dress had dropped completely off her shoulder. She pulled it up quickly as a blush spread across her face.
Luke felt himself stiffen as the blood rushed to his shaft and grew into a full-blown erection. He hissed out a curse as he hardened against his will from the sight of one soft, white shoulder and the top curve of her breast. A breast that wasn't bare at all, in fact it was covered by a white petticoat, possibly two. But that didn't seem to matter to his unruly body.
He gritted his teeth and tried to regain control. "Supper's ready. I'll help you get to the table."
"No, thank you, I can manage--"
"Do you have to contradict every damn thing I say?"
Emma felt her eyes widen as his temper seemed to take off like a shot for no reason again. "No, I didn't realize I did."
He moved toward her and held his hand out. "Let's go."
Emma put her hand in his and he pulled her to her feet. "Thank you, I can w--"
Her words came to a halt as once again, she found herself lifted and carried into the kitchen. He looped her arm around his neck and soon she found herself plunked down in a chair at the table.