“This is Hoonevasane. Protector,” Sarah told Emma. “The horse I picked out for you.”
Emma looked at the mustang Sarah had collected from the pasture, still reeling from seeing the barn burned to the ground. They stood near the charred remains, which were still smoldering in places, the caustic stench of the smoke wafting into her eyes.
The horse had beautiful paint markings and a much different conformation than Shahayla. Smaller, sturdier, calmer. Emma came over and stroked his muzzle that featured a white blaze running from his forehead to his nostrils.
“He’s beautiful.”
“Smart too,” Sarah said. “Hoonevasane, how old are you?”
The horse threw his head back, then pawed the snowy ground four times. Emma’s mouth fell open.
Sarah raised her eyebrows at Emma and handed her the lead rope. “Smart, right? And when Lucas isn’t around protecting you, he will watch out for you.”
Lucas said, “He hates snakes even more than Ransom.”
Emma made a face. “I bet those two horses are the best of friends.”
“If they aren’t, they will be,” Lucas said, “since they’ll be together a lot now.”
Hoesta danced around, running back and forth under Protector’s legs. The horse paid the dog no mind. Emma shook her head. “Shahayla would never stand still like that, if a dog ran under her.” She sighed. “She’d probably trample the poor thing to death.”
“You have a fine Arabian mare, Emma,” Lucas said. “She’s a pretty brave horse to leave the comforts of the city and come out here to face the dangers of the open range head-on.” He looked at her, and she knew he wasn’t really talking about her horse. “In time, she’ll get used to the wildness of the West, and maybe, who knows—she might just come to love it here.”
“She won’t want to go back to the crowded streets of the big city,” Sarah added, her eyes twinkling. “Where there is no place to run free.”
Emma’s heart swelled with joy. She put her arm around Lucas’s waist, and he bent to steal a kiss. Her face heated, knowing Sarah was watching them.
“Let’s get you saddled up,” Sarah said. “Luckily, we keep most of the saddles in the smaller barn.” She threw Emma a look. “Sorry, only Western saddles. No fancy ladies’ sidesaddle.”
Emma laughed. “I guess I’ll have to make do. Isn’t that what living in the Wild West is all about?”
“Oh no,” Sarah said, shaking her head. “We do much more than make do out here. We live.”
Emma’s heart raced in response. “Oh, and that’s just what I want to do—live my life, free to do what I love.”
Lucas swung her to him and pulled her close. “And I hope some of that includes me.”
“All of it does,” she said breathlessly in his ear. “For always.”
The sun was high in the sky by the time they arrived at Hilton’s halfway house. They’d had a glorious ride along the road, with the snow mostly melted, but not enough to make the riding muddy. Hoesta followed at their heels, unwilling to remain behind. As Lucas untied the rope he used to pony Hilton’s horse, Emma slid off Protector and gave him a pat on the neck.
“You are certainly a wonderful horse, and I can tell already we’re going to become great friends. I just hope Shahayla likes you—and doesn’t get jealous.”
The gelding whinnied and bumped her shoulder with his nose. Emma liked his spunk and playfulness. He was a young horse but well trained and responsive to her leading. Sarah had seen to that. He was the perfect horse for her—and the saddle was just her size. Which made Emma wondered if Sarah had been keeping it just for her. Had she bought it just for her? It was a bit small for Sarah, and her sons certainly wouldn’t fit it. A truly generous gift—although, Emma planned to repay her. She doubted Sarah wouldn’t take money for the horse, but Emma planned to have a talk with her father—about helping fund the rebuilding of Sarah’s barn. She had a feeling he would agree.
Lucas came over and took Emma’s reins. “I’ll get these three in the barn for now, feed them a little before we head back. They missed breakfast.”
“I did too,” Emma said, feeling her stomach rumble. “In fact, I never ate dinner last night either. No wonder I’m so hungry.”
“Well,” he said, leaning over and giving her a long kiss that shot heat down to her toes, “I think ya worked hard ’nuff to deserve some vittles, miss. I’ll rustle somethin’ up fer ya once we git inside.”
She laughed at his imitation of old Hilton’s speech. “I never knew you had such a sense of humor,” she told him.
He trailed kisses along her neck, and she shuddered, her body sparking with desire for him. He whispered hot in her ear. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Miss Bradshaw. But I rightly intend to show you.”
Emma’s chest fluttered, and she drew in a shaky breath. “Mr. Rawlings,” she whispered back, “you’d best contain yourself. My parents are standing in the doorway.”
Lucas turned around and saw them watching from the threshold. He gulped and tipped his hat at them.
Emma chuckled. At least they were smiling, for once.
Lucas gave her an embarrassed look, then headed with the three horses in tow to the barn. Emma skipped up to the house.
Emma’s mother looked a bit horrified as she looked Emma over. Thankfully Sarah had given Emma a pretty tailored blouse to wear instead of the baggy cowboy shirt she’d put on earlier. But she still had on the wool trousers that were rolled up at the cuffs. And her hair was down, and no doubt a mess. But there would be plenty of time to bathe, brush her hair, and act the lady. Right now she wanted to know about Lynette.
She followed her parents into the house and learned Lynette was still sleeping. Emma listened to her mother go on and on about the baby and the weather and the horrible scare they’d all had as she scrounged around for something to eat. She turned to her mother. “Are you hungry?”
Her parents exchanged a look that told Emma they hadn’t even thought about food. Were they hoping someone would show up and cook them their meals? Emma highly doubted Mr. Hilton had any servants. Or would be inclined to act as their cook during their stay here. Well, someone had to face the task, and she doubted she’d get any volunteers.
“I’ll make us something to eat,” she said.
“You?” her mother said, shocked.
“Yes, Mother. Unless you’d like to.”
“Oh, I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
Emma was amazed at how quickly her mother got flustered and looked about to faint.
Emma left them to go relax in the sitting room and returned to the kitchen. There she found eggs and bread and butter, and stood there, wondering how to cook them into something edible. She hadn’t ever cooked her own breakfast, but she supposed it was time to learn. How hard could it be to fry up some eggs?
“I’ll make you breakfast.”
She spun around and found Lucas with a cast-iron pan in his hand.
“You go visit with your parents. Let me know when Lynette’s awake, so I can check on her.”
“You mean to tell me you know how to cook?”
“Like I said, there’s a lot you still don’t know about me. I’m full of surprises.”
Emma laughed. “I’m finding that out.” She leaned into him and tickled his stomach playfully. “And I hope to find more.”
He squealed when she pinched his sides, then swatted at her but missed. “Now, out of the kitchen and let me work. Looks like there’s enough here for everyone. We’ll have to replenish Hilton’s pantry.”
Emma nodded and went to her parents. She heard movement upstairs and wondered if Walter had slept up there or in the room with Lynette. But then the back bedroom door opened, and Walter came out from there, dressed and looking almost rested and awake. She was glad he’d been in with Lynette.
She walked over to him. “Walter, what do you think of your son?”
Tears were in his eyes, and his face beamed. “He’s beautiful. The most beautiful baby in the world.”
“You must be so proud,” she said, hoping this portended a new day for Walter. Their baby promised a new start on a better future. New beginnings. For them all.
“I am. And, Emma, I want to thank you for helping Lynette. For . . . putting me in my place. I was so wrong. And rude to Mr. Rawlings.”
“You were.” Emma had no intention of letting Walter off that easily, not while he was being so uncharacteristically humble. She gestured to the kitchen. “He’s in there, making us all breakfast.” She grinned. “Maybe you’d like to help him.”
Walter startled at the suggestion, but then he nodded and said, “I will. It’s the least I can do after all he’s done for me. I mean, for us.”
Emma gave her brother a hug, which seemed to startle him even more. It had been years since she hugged him—something she did a lot when they were young. No reason they couldn’t start again. It was a lot nicer than scowling.
She stood in the hall, eavesdropping. This was one conversation she didn’t want to miss. Amid the clatter of pans and footsteps, and the wonderful aroma of bacon and eggs cooking, Emma listened to her brother speak to Lucas. Tears pushed at her eyes and her throat closed up, hearing Lucas’s kind response and encouraging words to her brother, who seemed entirely remorseful for all his mistakes.
She peeked in and said, “I’m going to check in on Lynette and the baby.” From the looks of it, it almost appeared as if the two men had become friends. Emma hoped so, with all her heart. “Oh,” she said to Walter, “have you named him yet?”
He nodded as he worked at slicing a loaf of bread, being careful not to cut his fingers. “We’re calling him Adam. Hoping he’ll be the first of many.” He smiled at her—a smile filled with hope.
“That’s a perfect name,” she said. “Adam Bradshaw.”
A Colorado promise of more blessings to come.