To Find You Again (29 page)

Chayton shifted in front of her. "What is that?" he asked in Lakota as he pointed toward the ranch house.

"That's where your white grandfather and grandmother live," Emma replied in the same language. "Remember how to say their names in English?"

"Gran-fa-ter and gran-ma-ter," Chayton said after a moment.

Emma patted his small shoulder. "Good. Do you remember your aunt's name?"

Another pause as the boy's face scrunched in thought. "Sarah."

Emma had been teaching him English throughout the trek, giving the boy's lively mind something to focus on during the long hours in the saddle. She wanted him to greet her family in their own language, hoping to make a good impression. Not that it would help if her parents were bound and determined to despise their own grandson.

Emma sighed heavily.

"Are you ready for this?" Ridge asked quietly.

"No," she said huskily. Ridge's long, cool fingers brushed hers and she clutched his hand. "Thank you. For finding Chayton and for—" She glanced away. "Everything."

Ridge's eyes burned with passion, as if remembering those nights filled with "everything." Attraction blazed and flared to settle as an ache in her chest.

Emma released his hand and asked with forced brightness, "Shall we?"

"Follow me," Ridge said.

Puzzled, she waited for him to go ahead. He led her down a circuitous route to the kitchen door at the back of the house. Realizing he did it so the ranch hands wouldn't see Chayton or herself, she wasn't certain if she should be grateful or upset. She wasn't ashamed of Chayton. He was her son. But she understood his reasoning—it was the same one used for going ahead of Captain Rivers and his unit.

Ridge dismounted and walked around the horses to lift Chayton from Emma's saddle. Once Chayton was safely on the ground, Ridge wrapped his hands around Emma's waist and eased her down, drawing her body along his as he lowered her. His thumbs brushed the sensitive skin beneath her breasts and she gasped at the bolt of desire.

Quickly stepping away from Ridge, she took Chayton's hand in her sweat-dampened one and pushed open the door. She was relieved when Ridge followed them inside. Since it was too early to begin supper, no one was in the kitchen. Chayton tried to see everything at once as he pressed closer to Emma.

She took a deep breath and looked back at the man who'd unintentionally claimed her heart. She took strength and comfort in his solid presence, and walked through the swinging doorway into the dining room. Footsteps on the stairs made her turn to the wide staircase to see Sarah descending.

"Sarah?" she called softly when her sister reached the bottom of the stairs.

Sarah turned and froze, her eyes huge and her mouth agape. "Emma?" she whispered hoarsely.

"I'm home." Emma's voice trembled with anxiety.

Sarah raced across the floor and flung her arms around Emma, who hugged her sister with equal enthusiasm. Sarah stepped back, but clung to Emma's hands. "Are you all right? Where have you been? Everyone's been sick with worry."

"I'm sorry. Ridge—Mr. Madoc found me and brought me home," Emma said. Her heart pounding like a smithy's hammer, she released her sister and put a hand on Chayton's small shoulder. "He's why I had to leave."

Sarah's shocked expression would've been comical if Emma hadn't been on pins and needles. "An Indian boy?"

"This is Chayton, my son." Emma paused. "Your nephew."

Sarah's face paled and she swayed. Ridge caught her arm to steady her.

"Sarah, are you all right?" Emma asked with concern.

"Sarah?" Chayton piped up.

Emma looked down at her son's curious and excited expression. "Yes, Chayton. This is your aunt," she said in Lakota. "Sarah."

"Oh my," Sarah whispered. "Oh my."

"Do you need to sit down, ma'am?" Ridge asked.

"I think that might be a good idea," Sarah replied weakly.

Ridge led her to a heavy oak dining room chair and eased her into it. Emma and Chayton followed and stood in front of Sarah.

The younger girl stared at Chayton, lifted her gaze to Emma, then returned to study Chayton. "He has your chin and nose," she finally said.

"That's what Talutah, my adopted mother, always said, too." Emma fought the lump in her throat. "My husband Enapay said our son had my eyes, too."

"Your husband?" Sarah squeaked out the question.

"Yes. He's dead. I'm a widow," Emma said, trying to hold a tremulous smile.

"Sarah," Chayton said again with a wide grin. He tugged on her hands and raised his arms.

"I think he wants you to pick him up," Emma translated.

For a long, heart-pounding moment, Sarah stared at the boy. Then, with a radiant smile, she lifted Chayton onto her lap. Sarah's eyes sparkled with unshed tears. "I'm an aunt."

Emma stepped closer to Ridge, wanting to share her relief and happiness at Sarah's acceptance. Ridge smiled back, understanding without words like he so often did.

"How old is he? What does his name mean? Are you both going to live here now?" Sarah started throwing out questions as Chayton stared in fascination at her blond hair.

Sharp footsteps sounded on the polished wood floor and Emma turned to see her father and mother enter the dining room.

"Emma!" Martha Hartwell cried and hugged her daughter.

Dazed, Emma wrapped her arms around her mother. The familiar scent of rose water wafted around her, reminding her of long-ago days. "I've missed you, Mother."

Emma glanced over her mother's shoulder at her father to find his gaze locked on Chayton. She drew away from the older woman and moved to Sarah and Chayton's side. Trembling, Emma announced, "Mother, Father, I want to introduce Chayton. My son."

Her mother's eyes rolled upward and she collapsed. Ridge lunged toward her and managed to partially catch her, saving her from a bump on the head.

"Get some water," her father ordered. He shoved Ridge away from her, as if he thought Ridge intended to murder her.

Emma lifted Chayton into her arms and Sarah bustled into the kitchen for the water. She returned carrying a glass and a damp cloth. Glowering, Ridge kept his distance, turning the brim of his hat around and around in his hands.

Her mother roused and glanced around in confusion, but when her gaze settled on Emma and Chayton she let out a moan. Sarah and their father helped her into the chair Sarah had vacated.

Her father's lips thinned and his eyes were stormy. "Explain yourself, Emma."

Although she bristled at the command, Emma knew they deserved an explanation. "I'd been living with the Lakota for two years when Enapay began courting me. I had given up on ever being found and brought back home. I cared for him and we married three months later. Chayton was born a year after our marriage. My husband was killed during a raid when Chayton was less than two years old."

"You married a—a savage?" her mother asked, shock evident in her lined features.

"Yes, Mother, I married a 'savage' who loved me and treated me well. He even spoiled me." She smiled tenderly, remembering the times Enapay would return, bearing some gift for her.

Her father's face deepened to scarlet and a vein pulsed in his brow. "He was an Indian, for God's sake."

"He was a decent, honorable man." Emma lifted her chin and met her father's gaze head-on. No longer was she a girl, and no longer would she cower under John Hartwell's dictates.

He cursed loudly and fluently, drawing shocked looks from Sarah and their mother. Chayton buried his face in the curve of Emma's neck. "And now you want to raise your half-breed bast—"

"Hold on, Hartwell," Ridge broke in, stepping forward. Every taut line in his muscular body radiated furious indignation. "Chayton's parents were married so he's no—" He crushed the brim of his hat in his fists. "He's an innocent little boy who don't deserve your narrow-minded insults."

Emma's throat tightened and her eyes smarted. If she didn't love Ridge already, she would've fallen for him at that moment.

Timidly Sarah stepped forward, her hands twisting together in front of her. "Mr. Madoc is right," she stated, shocking Emma with her mettle. "Emma and Chayton have had a long journey and would probably like to clean up and rest before dinner. Isn't that right, Emma?"

"Yes, thank you, Sarah," Emma managed to say past her shock at her sister's newfound assertiveness.

Sarah smiled, but when she laid an ice-cold hand on Emma's arm, Emma knew how terrified she was defying their father.

"Could you take Chayton upstairs?" Emma asked her sister. "I'll be up shortly."

Sarah's smile wavered for only a moment. Emma spoke some soothing words to Chayton and passed him to his aunt. Once Sarah and Chayton were out-of-sight, Emma faced her parents. Never before had she felt so many mixed emotions—anger, disappointment, resentment, and fear. But it was anguish which prevailed and enveloped her heart.

"When do you want us gone?" Emma asked her parents bluntly.

Her father's jaw muscle clenched. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Emma laughed bitterly. "After your reaction to Chayton you have to ask?" Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ridge shift uncomfortably. "Maybe you should pay Mr. Madoc so he can leave and not be witness to any more of our family squabbles. Oh, and you owe him another hundred dollars."

"Why?"

"I promised him a bonus for bringing Chayton back," Emma said. She figured Ridge would accept the hundred from her father more readily than from herself, and she would pay her father back. Someday.

"Did you come through town?" her father asked with a scowl.

Emma shook her head, immediately guessing the reason for his question. "No. And Mr. Madoc brought us around to the back door so none of the hired men saw us either."

"Emma, go upstairs. Madoc, come with me into my study," her father commanded. He gave his wife's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Keep the cool cloth on your brow, Martha, and don't try to rise until I return."

"What are you—" Emma began.

"I'll pay him. Go upstairs."

Emma didn't like being ordered about like a child, but the long journey had exhausted her. A bath and clean clothes were also enticing. It seemed like she'd been living in the same skirt and blouse for months rather than days.

Realizing she might not see Ridge again, her heart skipped a beat. For three weeks they'd not been far from one another. Thinking of the nights they'd lain together, Emma shivered with longing. But she reminded herself she'd known it couldn't last. Ridge had his own life to attend to, and she had a son whose needs came before her own.

"Thank you for everything, Mr. Madoc," Emma said formally, refusing to give her father another reason to hate Ridge Madoc.

His warm blue eyes caressed her but he kept his expression bland. "You're welcome, Miss Hartwell. You take care of yourself and that fine boy of yours."

"I will," Emma whispered, her emotions overcoming her.

Before she did something she'd regret, she hurried up the wide staircase. Suddenly weary beyond words, Emma wanted to ensure Chayton was all right, then sleep for a week.

She only wished it would be in Ridge's bed.

Chapter 18

Ridge's gaze followed Emma until she disappeared from view and a sharp ache arrowed through him. Already he could feel unfamiliar loneliness, the kind he hadn't felt since his ma had died. But Emma didn't need him anymore. Her sister would stand beside her, and hopefully her parents would come around to accept her son.

Suddenly weary, Ridge followed John Hartwell into his fancy office. Books lined the bookshelves that covered two of the walls, and Ridge had this vision of a young Emma sneaking in here to search for one to read. A fireplace encompassed much of the third wall, and the fourth was dominated by large windows.

Hartwell sat behind his desk, looking like some king presiding over his kingdom. He didn't invite Ridge to sit, but Ridge did so anyhow, and earned a scowl from Hartwell. After dropping into a brown leather chair, he eyed Hartwell's cool mask.

"The boy wasn't part of the deal," Hartwell said.

Ridge shrugged. "I didn't even know about him until we found the village."

"'We?' You were only supposed to find Emma and bring her home immediately."

Cursing his unintentional slip, Ridge propped his elbows on the chair arms and steepled his fingers, effecting a nonchalance at odds with the tight coil in his gut. "You didn't say
when
you wanted her home. I signed on to find her and bring her back. I fulfilled my end of the bargain." He inwardly flinched at the inference that Emma was merely a business matter—the subject of a black-and-white contract. She'd long ago ceased being a means to an end.

Hartwell slumped back in his chair and his face sagged, as if he'd aged twenty years. "Do you realize what kind of life she'll have raising a half-breed child?"

Ridge felt a fleeting sympathy for the man. "Yes, sir. For what it's worth, I tried to talk her out of bringing him back."

The rancher blinked in surprise, but quickly covered it with a scowl. "When people find out, she's going to be turned away from businesses and respectable folks won't want anything to do with her. Her son won't be allowed to attend school and the children will tease him, and worse."

"She knows." Ridge narrowed his eyes. "What about you? You gonna turn her away, too?"

Irritation sharpened Hartwell's features. "She's my daughter."

"And Chayton's your grandson."

Hartwell flinched. "I can send them away someplace where no one will know about her unfortunate past."

"You might be able to hide her past, but Chayton can't be hidden away and Emma won't be parted from him. He's her flesh and blood." Ridge paused. "Unless you're only getting rid of them because you're embarrassed by her."

"Emma's my daughter!" Hartwell spun his chair around to stare outside, hiding his face from Ridge. "I'll do what's best for her."

"She's not your little girl anymore, Hartwell, and she won't take kindly to you making her decisions."

Silence filled the room.

Finally, Hartwell opened a desk drawer and counted some bills. He held them out to Ridge. "Two hundred dollars. The one hundred we agreed on, and another hundred to keep your mouth shut. It'll get out soon enough but as long as her bast—her boy stays inside, nobody will find out."