Scene 5 #5
Momma pauses before softly continuing. “When she’s having a terrible day, the worst day of her life that makes her so mad and sad at how unfair it is, whose shoulder does she want to cry on?”
“Sully’s,” I whisper. My inner self is in his arms now as he holds me close. He’s never pushed me away, and his hugs always make me feel safe.
“And when she’s told that the most special person in her life might be leaving, who does she think that special someone is?”
There’s only one answer, and it’s the same as before.
It’s always Sullivan, and I think it always has been.
I groan, and when I force my eyes open, Momma’s gentle, understanding gaze is waiting for me. “What will Papa think?” I don’t want him to be hurt or mad.
“It may take a little getting used to, but I think your papa will understand. He loves the both of you very much, and if this makes you happy, that’s what he’ll want for you.”
What will all the people in Hope’s Stand say?
Will they care that Sully and I aren’t related by blood?
Or does it even matter what they think, because who are they to have any bearing on my happiness when I don’t even see them every day?
Drained from the weight of it all, I rest my head against the tree.
“I’ll leave you to your thoughts, but if you want to talk again, I love you and I’m here for you.” Momma kisses my cheek. “No matter what you choose, you’re still my daughter, and you’ll always have a home to come back to.”
I nod weakly and squeeze her hand. “I know. I love you, too.”
Scene 5
Emmaline, Age 18
The rest of the afternoon drags by with only my contemplations to keep me company, and I use the excuse of a headache to go to bed shortly after dinner.
But my fitful sleep is disturbed in the early morning hours when I wake to pain lancing my chest. I swing my feet to the floor and try to catch my breath, but I know this feeling very well by now.
It’s what always happens when Sullivan has one of his bad dreams. I haven’t felt them since I learned he wasn’t my brother, but I don’t know if it’s because he didn’t have any more nightmares or if he stayed up all night to avoid them.
And for me to feel it now, he must have gotten back home sometime in the night after I fell asleep.
I need to go to him. Even if all we do is stare at each other in silence in the moonlight, I can’t let him suffer.
Not my Sully.
Throwing back my covers and praying my pounding heartbeats don’t wake anyone, I grab a robe and tiptoe to his bedroom door. “Sully?” I whisper as I ease inside. “Can I sleep with you?”
Silence.
Is he ignoring me? He never has before, even if to only grumpily tell me no, which I would then promptly disregard. I feel my way closer, careful not to step on him. But by the time I reach his spot by the wall, the only thing my feet have touched is the floor.
He’s not there.
A quick pat to the bed confirms it’s untouched.
Where is he?
I rub at my chest. The tightness is fading, but I still need to find him because I won’t sleep any more tonight until I know he’s all right.
Decision made, I go back to my room for a lantern and my shoes.
I don’t dare risk waking Papa by going out the front door, so my bedroom window it is.
The protesting squeak it emits is tiny, but it seems a thousand times louder to me because of how quiet the house is.
When no one comes to investigate, I slip into the darkness.
Only to promptly stumble and fall on my face. “Fucking hell,” I whisper in a very unladylike manner. “When did that hole get there?” I could swear it wasn’t there in the daytime!
Needing to be further away from the house before I light the lantern so no one takes notice of a floating light, I take slow and measured steps as my eyes adjust. If I were Sullivan and not in my bed, where would I be? Maybe past the tree line?
The darkness deepens as I approach the tree line, and the trees themselves look like menacing, hair giants as they block out the moon. I pause, heart beating like a drum. Now would probably be a good time for a light.
Or to turn back and maybe check out the barn first.
That seems a more likely place for him to be. I don’t know why I didn’t go there to begin with. “Because I’m a silly girl, that’s why,” I tell myself.
“A brave one, but definitely silly,” a deep voice agrees from close behind me.
I flail, dropping the lantern. A hand that isn’t mine comes around me and muffles a scream so pitiful that no one could possibly hear it as another hand—also not mine—pulls me back against a hard body.
“Damn it, Emma. What are you doing in the dark by yourself? You should be in bed.”
Sullivan.
I collapse in relief so stark, I could almost cry. I’m surprised I didn’t wet myself. He whirls me around but keeps his hands firmly anchored to my waist. “And in your robe and nightgown, no less. Emmaline Hazel!”
“Don’t chastise me,” I snap, suddenly remembering to be angry when I collect my breath. “You scared the living daylights out of me. What on earth made you think creeping up behind me from the shadows was a good idea?”
“You’re right,” he says, pulling me into a bear hug that almost has me forgiving him. “That was rotten of me, and I’m sorry. But how else was I supposed to let you know I was here? You’d have screamed your head off no matter what, I’m thinking.”
He’s right, damn him.
Damn him.
I push back and slap his chest. “I was looking for you. Silly me for wanting to make sure you were all right after your nightmare.”
“You always could tell when I had one, couldn’t you?” I feel the soft warmth of his half smile more than I see it. “I didn’t want to wake the whole house when I got back, so I decided to bed down out here. And so you braved the wild darkness just for me?”
“Yes,” I grumble.
“I knew you loved me.” As soon as his words hit the air, we both still, wondering what the other will do about the L-word. “I mean…”
“Yes.” My answer is soft and shaky this time. “I do.”
Sully tenses, and the slight flex of his fingers on my hips sends pinpricks of electricity through me. “Like a brother? Or something more?”
“I…” God, my mouth is so dry all of a sudden. Why am I so out of sorts? This is Sully.
“Be brave,” he teases in a low tone. “Are you telling me the fearless girl who kissed me first is suddenly intimidated by a little question like that?”
I groan, fighting off an acute case of nerves. “I don’t know how to put it into words.”
“Darlin’, I don’t need very many of them.” The hands on my hips angle me closer. “In fact, a simple yes or no would do.”
Darlin’. Hearing him call me that makes my mind all dreamy. As if by instinct, my arms loop around his neck. “What was the question again?”
“Do you”—Sully puts his lips to my ear, and the deepness of his voice chases goosebumps everywhere—“love me, Emmaline Hazel Shay? As a man instead of a brother. Because I love you. No…more than that. I’m in love with you.
You’re the stars and the moon that guide me home when I’m lost in my head, and when I’m not with you, it’s like half of my soul is missing.
If you’ll have me, I want to make you mine for forever. ”
When did he become such a poet? “Yes.” I angle my head to give his mouth that speaks such pretty words better access to wherever he wants to kiss me.
And as if by releasing my own first word, all the rest rush out on a shaky breath.
“God help me, yes, I love you. I don’t care if people say anything about us.
It can’t be wrong to love someone like this. ”
Heat travels across my jawline as Sully traces it with his lips until they meet mine in the most tender of kisses. Before I can fall too far into it, he pulls away. “So you’re gonna come with me when I leave?”
I take hold of his cheeks so he knows I mean business. “If you leave without me, I’ll track you down myself, Sullivan Shay.”
“I’d expect nothing less.” His hands ease down an inch, and every part of me is extremely aware of his daring fingers resting on my backside. “It’s late. I can walk you back to the house and you can go to bed. Or…”
A knot in my throat makes it hard to swallow. “Or?”
“Or,” he draws out the single syllable, “you can stay the night. With me.” For all our exchanged words of love, there’s a note of vulnerable hope in his voice that he can’t hide.
“For…for sleeping?”
“Not for a while yet,” he says meaningfully. “Your choice.”
The answer is clear to me because I already made it this afternoon.
I love him, and I want to be his. I reach behind me for his hand. “I came looking for you. I don’t want to leave and go back to bed by myself.”
A silent squeeze, then he leads me into the dark trees, deeper and deeper until I begin to question if he knows where we’re going. Then he stops and gestures. “Our room for the night.”
I step beside him. “The clearing,” I say in hushed awe. “It’s so different in the moonlight. So beautiful.” The trees no longer hide the moon’s brightness, and it shines down freely in the grassy oval, bathing everything in a soft glow.
“So beautiful.” Sully looks down. My heart skips a beat when I can finally see his expression for the first time tonight, dark and male and hungry.
For me.
“Come on.” He leads me to his bedding and helps me lie down. “Comfortable?” he asks, adjusting the bedroll so my neck is supported.
“Yes.” It’s surprisingly soft. Well, softer than I imagined lying on the ground would be. The night air chills my feet as he takes off my shoes, and I curl my toes into the blanket.
Then, pinning me in place with his mismatched eyes, he drags his shirt off and readies himself for bed. My thighs clench at the sight of his shoulders and broad chest. Is it the lack of a shirt that makes him seem so big as he lowers down beside me? Or the thought of what might happen next?
“I don’t know what to do,” I confess, clutching my robe just so my fingers have something to hold to.
“Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll teach you.” He hovers above me, but suddenly I feel green with jealousy.