Written on Her Heart (11 page)

“Have you read all these?”

She jumped. Good grief, she probably seemed insane. “Most. Yes.”

Nicholas had slipped back inside. He stood running a finger over her bookcase in the hall. Her eyes shut at the thought of all the romance novels and their questionable covers.

“Which were you reading at the dam?”

“Oh, I haven’t finished it yet.” The truth gave her pause. She hadn’t. Though only a few dozen pages remained, Nicholas sidetracked her lately.

Emma leaned back from the counter and stole another look at him. His well-worn jeans hung lose from the V of his torso in the doorway, but squatting to examine her books, they pulled tight everywhere. The fabric hugged his thighs. She felt her mouth drop open, helpless to shut it. He straightened his legs, leaving his chest angled forward. The new view made her suck air. She dashed to the sink and turned on the water.

“Are you okay?”

“
Mmmhmm
.”

“Can you recommend a book to me? I’d bring it back.”

She turned her back to the sink and waited until he appeared in the kitchen once more. His blue eyes crinkled at the edges. She’d never seen a friendlier face. On cue, he smiled. “Well? Any suggestions?”

She pressed her lips together.

“Something from the top shelf?” he suggested. “The edges of those are all worn. It looks like the lower the shelf, the less you read the book. I assume those on the bottom failed to captivate.”

This time she nodded.

“Grill’s ready. Is that everything?” He pointed to the trays she prepared on the countertop.

When she stepped toward them, he lifted them with ease and headed for the door. At the threshold he rested his hip against her screen and it swung wide. She slipped out, moving beneath the lifted trays and brushed her shoulder against his chest. A shiver slid down from her neck and disappeared into her sandals.

Emma took a seat on the porch to watch Nicholas cook. He offered to help, but there he was doing it all himself. He looked at home. Only when he came to the seasoned, sliced tomatoes did he pause. She waited for him to ask about them, but he moved ahead, laying them carefully between planks of chicken. His eyes lifted to hers, but he said nothing.

The lazy clickety-clack of toenails brought her attention away from him. Mavis snorted and wheezed her way across the porch, still wearing her wings and crown.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he crooned in what passed for the worst English accent she’d ever heard. Mavis sneezed.

Emma pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them. “Why haven’t we ever talked before?” she asked, unable to stop the words from spilling out.

“Well. I’ve wondered that a few times myself.”

He had?

“I figure it was because you were busy being a baby.”

“What?”

He laughed, waving a spatula in the air. “Not like that. Like a baby.” He sighed and hung his head. “I. Am. Old. You are not.”

She felt old. And he seemed young. Funny how things work out sometimes. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. How old are you?”

He didn’t answer. His hands got busy with the grilling.

She turned her face to Mavis. She kept plenty from Nicholas too. How many of his questions had she dodged? “We have a lot of secrets.”

“I’m 30.”

“Oh.” He was older than she thought. Five years older, at least until her birthday in the fall. “I’m 25. My birthday’s in September.” Was she too young for him? Did he care about that? Did it matter to her if it bothered him?

“You haven’t been out of school long. Did you come straight home?” He filled two plates with food from the grill and came to sit with her on the porch.

“I came home early. I took my last semester online.” She cut her food into tiny pieces, certain she’d choke to death trying to force the truth from her lips. She did not want to talk about what happened to her, but for the first time in years, she didn’t want to hide it either. “I left after a bit, hoping to make a life in the city. My mother loves to mother me.”

“Yet here you are.”

“I’m a glutton for punishment, I guess. And a sucker for this town. Good, bad and all.”

He didn’t look surprised, and he didn’t ask.

“How about you? You’re a botanist?” She stuck a tomato in her mouth and smiled.

“Botany is more manly than it sounds.” He raised an eyebrow and half a smile.

“Definitely.”

“I wanted to get involved in forest conservation. When I started school, I planned to be a park ranger some place out west.”

“What happened?”

He looked at his plate. She thought he shook his head, but the movement was small and quick. “Life.” He blew out a breath before looking back at her. “Are you working at the Strawberry Festival this year?”

“No. I made strawberry everything until my skin turned pink. I hauled it to the church for safe keeping, and I plan to attend as a faithful member of our community where I will eat until I cry, but I’m not working this year.”

“You want to go as my date?”

Well, that was specific. No room to analyze those words. Her cheeks ached before she realized why. Her smile had probably swallowed her face, and she’d yet to answer him. He didn’t seem put off by the lack of words. “I’d like that.” She rubbed a nervous palm over her thigh.

His eyes appraised her.

She’d have given anything to know what he saw. Another forkful of chicken passed his lips, and she relaxed her spine against the porch railing. No good would come from their relationship. He liked her. She couldn’t tell how much, but she knew he did. She also knew her scars were hideous. If he stayed too long, he’d know it too. He’d leave her. She could survive that. She’d survived a heart attack. A broken heart wouldn’t kill her, but it wasn’t something she wanted to live with either.

Chapter Ten

“Are you ready?” Heather burst in through the back door with her standard degree of exuberance.

Emma looked up from the table dumbfounded. Her mind floundered, searching for what those plans might be. She blinked.

“I can’t believe you aren’t ready. Let’s go go go.” Heather danced in place.

“Can I finish my coffee?”

“Nope.” Heather fished a thermal cup from the cupboard and filled it. Shut off the coffeemaker, rinsed the pot and shoved it against the wall. “He’s right under our noses, but he’s not wearing a sign. We’ve got work to do.” She twisted the lidded mug in front of her like a dangling carrot for a stubborn mule.

Emma stopped breathing, looked at her empty cup and sighed.

“What’s wrong? I thought you’d be out front waiting at the curb. Why so blue, you?”

“I finished the journal.”

Heather collapsed into the chair across from Emma, eyes wide in expectation. “You know who he is?” Her mouth gaped open.

“No. What? No. I have no idea who he is, but whoever he is, I don’t want to know.”

Heather slapped the table and Emma jumped. “Yes you do. Of course you do. You’ve been pouring over this mystery man’s words for two weeks. You
lurve
him.” She slurred the word for silly emphasis.

“I spent yesterday with Nicholas Fenton.”

Heather sipped the coffee. “You’re cheating on your book guy.” The words were a scandalous whisper.

Tears filled Emma’s eyes.

“Hey, I’m joking. Emma, come on. What’s happening?”

Emma rubbed her eyes against her forearm and sniffed. “I suck.”

“You don’t suck.” She took Emma’s small hands between hers. “If you did, the whole town would know.”

“Oh. Nice. Thank you.” Against her will, she laughed. “You’re a dork.”

“What happened? No. Tell me about Nicholas first. Where did that come from? I seriously need to stop day lighting as a lifeguard. I’m missing everything up there in that big white chair.”

“If I find my soldier and he’s not what I expected, I’ll be sad. I like him the way he is in my head. I don’t want to ruin it.” She held up a finger to stop the coming protest. “If I find him and he’s 50 like you said, then it’s also ruined. If I find him and he doesn’t like me—ruined. If I find him and he does like me….” She pulled the collar of her tee with the finger she’d held in the air, revealing her angry pink and white scars.

“Honey.” Heather’s voice grew soft, devoid of the energy she arrived with. “Those scars make you blessed. You’re a survivor, strong and willful, and those scars are evidence that miracles do happen. Those scars you hate make you more beautiful to me, and any man worth your time will know it.”

And then they cried. The heart attack, the scars, and her health were all fenced in protectively behind Emma’s walls, off limits to everyone. Period. The idea of opening up after these years overwhelmed her. She imagined the floodgate on her heart the way she did in Dr. Kennedy’s office. Someone pulled the lever. Tears fell and sobs came. Stupid book. Stupid Nicholas.

Emma wiped her tears against a cloth napkin and took her coffee from Heather. “Any man who’d put up with all this crazy…” she stammered, choking back the additional tears intent on making an appearance.

“Would be the luckiest man alive.”

“I hate you.” She giggled and wiped and sniffed.

“I know.”

Emma went to change. It didn’t take long to find her favorite pair of cut offs and a loose fitting T-shirt. She stuffed her bare feet into well-worn Converse and headed for the bathroom. Adjusting the water, she doused her face and brushed her teeth. Some gloss and a hairbrush later, she was as ready as she’d ever be for the mission ahead.

Bouncing down the steps, she heard a voice. When she turned the corner, a man sat in her kitchen with Heather. For one fleeting moment she wondered if Heather had found him. Then she recognized the voice.

“Hey.”

The pair turned her way and smiled. Heather took a step back and made a strange face.

“Emma,” James reached out to shake her hand. Weird. “Looks like I picked the perfect time to drop by. Heather said you guys were going hiking.”

Heather shut her eyes and shook her head.

“Um.”

“I told her you said you’d take me sometime. Then I thought, hey, I’m here. I’ll hang with you ladies today. What do you think? I’m already dressed for it.”

Emma’s eyes slid over him, head to toes and back. He wore too long basketball shorts with a logo up one leg, a sleeveless tee, and white running shoes. She laughed. His expression fell. Emma coughed into her fist and swallowed. “Well, we planned a girls’ day, but maybe you and I can hike together another time?”

He looked confused by the offer and a bit distressed.

She didn’t want to be rude to a new neighbor. James seemed nice. She was the one with the problems, but she didn’t need any more. What would her mom do? She had a way of making everyone feel welcome.

“Do you want to stay for lunch? You’re already here, and we aren’t on a schedule.” She looked at Heather for help. “We were going to toss salads and have some sweet tea.”

Heather sipped the coffee and watched the nightmare unfold.

“No. I won’t intrude on girl time. I insist. In fact, I’m going to show myself out.” He winked. “You two had a ladies’ day planned, and I respect that. I’ll see you both soon. Enjoy your day.” He mock bowed and disappeared out the front door.