Chapter Three #2
"I said nothing of the kind."
"Okay, so how about we put it all behind us. I'll keep my nose out and my opinions to myself."
His chest tightened when she added in a smaller voice, "That is, if you don't mind me still hanging out with them."
He shook his head slowly.
"No?" The note of panic in her voice made him hurry on.
"Relax. What I mean is that I don't want you to keep your nose out and your opinions to yourself. I think I need to hear them. You made me realize that the girls need more input, different perspectives than I can give them."
He looked over at her as he put his foot down when the highway opened up ahead of them. "And I'd appreciate you calling me out when you think I'm screwing up. I've done okay so far, but…" He inhaled deeply before blowing it out slowly. "They're at an age now where… You know."
He didn't want to spell out that Emily was gone, or that he wasn't a woman or…
His throat tightened when she touched his arm briefly and said softly, "I know, Emmett, and I'd be honored to help."
The moment passed quickly when she laughed and said in what he thought of as a much more Harper-like tone, "But when you're sick of me being a pain in your ass, remember you brought this on yourself. Then again, you won't need to remember—I'll remind you."
They rode in silence down East River Road toward Jim Sheridan's place. Emmett felt like he should say something else, but he didn't know what. He felt as though he'd run a marathon, which was crazy, since the conversation—the important part of it, anyway—had lasted less than a couple of minutes.
He hoped that Harper might take the lead at this point—ask him to explain more about what he meant.
Not that he knew exactly what he had in mind other than the fact that Tanya and Alana were better off with her in their lives.
And that he would benefit from her straight talk when it came to letting the girls grow into the women they were becoming.
He blew out a sigh, wishing that he knew in more concrete terms what kind of help he wanted from her.
He had to smile when she asked, "Does that sigh mean you're regretting this already?"
"Far from it."
"So, I can put myself back on the roster for school pickups and rehearsals and everything for next week?"
"Yeah, thanks. Everyone else stepped up while you were away, but the girls missed you."
She smiled big at that. "I missed them, too."
"Shit, I should have asked before now. Did you have a good trip back home?"
The look in her eyes made him wonder if her bright smile was as genuine as it seemed as she said, "I did, thanks. It was good."
It hadn't occurred to him before, but now that it had, he had to ask. "How long do you think you'll stay here for? Life in the valley must seem pretty slow compared to New York."
"I haven't decided yet. To be honest, I'm enjoying the change of pace."
He opened his mouth to say that he hoped she'd stay for good but changed his mind.
He'd hate for her to feel like he was putting pressure on her to stick around to help out with the girls.
That wasn't it. But he didn't particularly want to admit to himself how much he disliked the idea of her leaving, either.
~ ~ ~
When Emmett brought the truck to a stop outside the cottage, Harper didn't move to get out immediately.
To say that she was pleasantly surprised by the way this had turned out would be an understatement, but she didn't feel as though they'd said everything they needed to.
She'd hoped that he would give her more of an idea of what he wanted from her, but he'd gone back to his usual silence for the last part of the ride here.
Of course, she had a million questions, but she figured that now wasn't the time to ask them.
When he turned and gave her that slightly crooked smile of his, her heart sank when she remembered there was one question she really wanted the answer to but certainly wasn't going to ask.
Although... just because she didn't want to ask about his date tonight, it didn't mean she couldn't ask about the girls.
"Want me to bring your bag inside?" he asked.
"That's okay, I can—" She rolled her eyes. "In fact, scratch that. I'll go with yes, please. That'd be great."
When she met him behind the truck, he was smiling. "Is it hard for you?" he asked.
"What?"
"Letting people do things for you. Like me getting your bag like this?"
She raised her eyebrows. "I think you can probably answer that one for yourself, can't you?"
He looked confused for a moment, then gave her a rueful smile.
"Yeah, I was thinking of you as independent, but you're pretty self-reliant yourself, aren't you?"
"I am," she nodded. "And that may be why I called you out. Perhaps it's a case of it takes one to know one." She chuckled as she added, "And a bigger one to say it. But I'll drop that now."
He followed her up the steps and onto the porch, waiting while she opened the front door. Once they were inside, she smiled as she looked around.
"Is it good to be back?" he asked.
"It is."
She didn't want to tell him, considering that he'd just been asking about how long she might stay in the valley—but what she'd been thinking was that it was good to be home. His gaze darted around the cottage.
"You've changed the place. It looks good."
"You've been here before?"
"Yeah, you have to remember that everyone knows everyone around here.
And we're more like family than neighbors.
Jim and his wife Kitty were like the heart of the valley.
I mean, don't get me wrong, Jim still is, but—" His words trailed off, and Harper felt bad for him.
She knew that Jim had lost his wife years ago.
But they'd been married for more than fifty years.
Emmett had lost his wife, Emily, far too young.
"I wish I could have met her," she said with a smile. "Sounds like she was a wonderful lady."
He held her gaze for a moment before nodding and turning away. And it hit her that he probably didn't know if she was referring to Kitty or Emily.
Her words were true either way.
He took his hat off and ran his hand through his hair before putting it back on. "I should get going."
She didn't want him to leave and was about to offer him a drink when she remembered—he probably had to go home to get ready for his date.
"Well, thanks again for this," she said a little too brightly.
"For the ride home and for clearing things up between us.
I don't want to dwell on it too much, but I will say one last time—I'm sorry. "
"And I'll say one last time—there's no need."
She followed him to the door, and he turned back when he reached it.
"The girls are excited to see you."
"But they're not around this weekend—is that right?" She wanted to kick herself as soon as the words were out, but her mouth tended to do its own thing, even when her brain knew better. Her heart sank when he smiled—there was no need for him to look so pleased about it!
"Yeah, they're having a sleepover at Brooke's." His smile faded as he met her gaze. Now he looked a little guilty.
"I'll bet you want to make the most of an evening to yourself, don't you?" She had to press, to see what he might give away.
He shrugged. "I'm still deciding what making the most of it means." She raised her eyebrows, hoping he'd elaborate without her needing to push.
He let out a short laugh. "Option A is get my ass into gear—pick up around the house and do some spring cleaning. Option B is kick back with a beer and watch a movie."
"You're not going out?" she asked, before she could help it.
"Out? Hell no." He frowned. "Or is everyone going somewhere that I don't know about?"
"Not that I know of. Why?"
"Because I figured that everyone knows—so you probably would, too—that the only time I go out is on special occasions. Last time was Blane's birthday. And before that... I don't even remember."
She knew the happy feeling buzzing in her chest was unwarranted, but that didn't stop it. He gave her a puzzled look.
"Are you laughing at me? That I'm a sad old fart who never goes anywhere?"
Her relief came out as laughter. "Far from it. I had it in my mind that you'd packed them off to Brooke's—so that you could... " Crap. What was she doing? She didn't need to tell him what she'd been thinking.
"So that I could what?"
"I don't know. Have a wild old time, I guess."
He shook his head. "Don't remember the last time I had one of those. Probably never will again. And that's fine by me."
"Oh no, mister. Don't go saying things like that. You'll make us sound old."
He chuckled. "Fair enough. What about you? Do you have an evening out planned? A catch-up dinner with your friends?"
"No, just a recovery evening that'll probably look a lot like yours." She looked around the cottage. "Although, I don't have any picking up to do. So, for me it'll be a glass of wine and a movie."
Her heart rate picked up, and she clasped her hands together. She could ask him if he wanted to join her. She had plenty of meals in the freezer. She could feed him—they could share a bottle of wine.
But he was already opening the door. And it was better that he left—asking him to stay would be a terrible idea. He'd given her a reprieve with the girls. The last thing she needed to do was mess that up by overstepping again.
"I'll see you next week then," he said, seeming to linger in the doorway longer than he needed to.
"You will." She met his gaze and held it. "And thanks again, Emmett. I'll do my best to help. And I'll try even harder not to overstep, okay?"
He chuckled. "Okay. But I think we both know that you will. And I'm kind of counting on it."