Chapter Eighteen #2
"I do. That's why I don't want you giving yourself a hard time.
You've had a lot going on, Lib." He hurried on when he noticed the way her lips pressed together.
"And I know better than to say anything about Mav.
But even setting all of that aside, with the riding program, and the vets, and therapy work you do, that's a lot for anyone.
But you've still made time for us. You still pick the girls up when you can, you manage the schedule of everyone else.
You've always been there for us. I know it, and the girls do, too. "
Libby made a face. "I still wish I'd been able to do more.
And now... now I see a possibility between you and Harper.
" She held her hand up again. "And I'm not going to say anything more about that, either.
" She held the basket up higher. "But this.
This is my contribution. There's a casserole in there, there's wine, there's fresh bread from the bakery.
And there's dessert. Should I put it in the kitchen? "
Emmett didn't know what to say. He was relieved when she smiled and turned away. "What am I asking for? I know better than that. So — take two: Emmett, I'm putting this in the kitchen."
He chuckled. "Thanks, Lib."
She came back into the living room a few minutes later. "I'd better be on my way. I need to get back up to town."
"Do you have plans for your Friday night?" Emmett asked before he thought about it.
She scowled at him.
"Come on, Lib. You know damn well I'm not checking up on you on Mav's behalf. It was an innocent question."
She huffed out a laugh. "Yeah, sorry. I think I'm too defensive about that whole thing lately."
"You mean since he moved back here?"
She nodded slowly. "And even before that."
"I'm not going to ask," said Emmett. "I'll just tell you that I still hope."
She met his gaze. "I'll admit it to you. But not the others. I do, too."
Emmett couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. "I'm glad to hear it, Lib."
She let out a sigh. "Don't be. I wish I could make myself stop hoping."
"Where there's hope, there's life." He squeezed his eyes shut as soon as he'd said it.
Libby came to him and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head. "I still miss her too, you know. But what you just said? You're right. You are still alive. And therefore, there's still hope for you too."
He cleared his throat. "Thanks, Lib."
"Yeah, anyway. I'd better be on my way."
"Thanks again."
"Told you, you don't need to thank me. It's my pleasure."
~ ~ ~
When she got back to the house, Harper let herself inside quietly, in case Emmett was sleeping.
She was a little mad at Deacon and Ace right now.
She'd been hanging out at the bakery this afternoon, and it was good to catch up with everyone.
But more than that, she'd wanted to give Emmett a little time without her constantly in his space.
She knew Blane wouldn't leave him alone without making sure he was all right after their day out working.
At the bakery, Ace and Deacon had given her the impression that Blane would probably want to hang out with him for a while longer, so she should stick around for the usual Friday afternoon gathering and catch up with everyone.
She'd been enjoying herself until Brooke — who was also there — received a call from Blane and reported that he was already up in town, hanging out with the girls and Cash.
As she stepped into the hallway, she wondered if perhaps she should have stayed a little longer anyway. But as soon as she'd known he was here alone, she'd wanted to come.
"Hey, Harper, is that you?"
She hurried into the living room wearing a smile. "It's me. Sorry — I would have come back sooner. I was hanging out at the bakery."
His smile faded. "You didn't need to come rushing back. You could have stayed and enjoyed yourself."
She met his gaze. "I did enjoy myself, but I'd rather be here."
When he didn't reply, her heart sank. "But if you're fine, I can head out again. You can call me when you need anything. It's not..."
"Harper."
"Yes."
"I'm not saying I don't want you here."
"No?"
"No. Harper, I made you a promise that I'd tell you if you were around too much."
"You did, thanks. Sorry, I guess I'm just..."
"Don't apologize. Just believe me. How about that? In fact, if you want to know the truth, I've been looking forward to this evening."
She smiled. "You have? Me too. I was thinking I could make us dinner and..."
He chuckled. "Too late."
"What do you mean?" Her smile faded. "Don't you dare tell me that you've been in the kitchen."
"I haven't, I promise. I couldn't. But Libby stopped by. She brought us a basket. There's a casserole, bread, wine, and dessert — everything we need, apparently."
"Oh, that was kind of her."
He nodded. "Wasn't it? So, what do you say? I know it's not ideal, but... if you'd like... we could kind of make tonight a date. Our first real one, if you want."
"What do I say?" she asked with a grin. "I say yes, please. I like the sound of that."
"I do, too."
"Are you hungry yet?"
"Not yet. But there's wine. I thought you might like a glass. In fact, you have two bottles to choose from; there's what Shelley brought and another that Libby brought."
"You know I love a glass of wine. Will you join me?"
He glanced at the small bottle of painkillers on the end table beside him. "I shouldn't; I took a couple of those."
She came farther into the room and sat down in the armchair. "Did you overdo it today?"
"No. Honestly, I didn't. I might have if Blane weren't with me, but..."
"He's a good friend."
"The best."
"What would you like to drink then? I might skip the wine."
"Don't. I'd like you to enjoy it. I can drink soda."
She chuckled. "I think I get too talkative when I drink wine. You'll have an unfair advantage if you're sober."
"No." He held her gaze. "If you're concerned about me taking advantage, you have nothing to worry about. That's not who I am. But even if it were, I'm in no kind of shape to..."
She burst out laughing at the serious, slightly wounded expression he was wearing. "Oh, come on, Emmett. I'm not saying that you'd try to take advantage of me if I get tipsy. All I meant was that you'll be stone cold sober, and I might get to rambling after a glass of wine or two."
"Would that be so terrible? We already established that there are a lot of things you might get around to telling me someday. Maybe today could be the day."
She wrinkled her nose. "I don't know about that. We have an evening — a decent meal ahead of us. I wouldn't want to spoil it by boring you with stories about my sad and sorry past."
"Harper."
"Yes, Emmett."
"Do you always make light of it, or are you brushing me off?"
She closed her eyes for a moment and let out a breath. "I'm not brushing you off. It's just... it's my way."
"Are you telling me you don't want to let me in?"
She shook her head slowly. "No. I'll share. I'm not going to say I'll tell you whatever you want to know. But I'll share some. Is that fair?"
"Only if you want to. I'm not pushing. I just... I want to know you better."
"That's fair." She gave him a wry smile. "But I think if you don't mind, I'll get that glass of wine now."
As she got to her feet, he sat up straighter on the couch.
"Do you need to go to...?" she asked.
"No. Thanks. I was thinking maybe we could sit out back. It's still warm enough out there. It's a nice night."
"It is. Do you want my help?"
"I don't want to need it. But I can honestly say I don't mind accepting it."
She chuckled. "Well, that's progress."
She helped him to stand; once he was upright, he looked down into her eyes. "I guess it is. Looks like we're finally making some, huh?"