MICHAEL LAID HIS napkin on the table and rose to his feet. “Shall we retire to the library, gentlemen?”
Nona smiled and addressed the ladies. “We have dessert laid out in the parlor, so please follow me.”
Emma pushed back from the table and pivoted in her seat. She took Topper’s hand and balanced on her good foot, her ankle now throbbing. Without warning, she once again found herself lifted into Clayton’s arms. “Where the heck did you come from?”
His eyebrows drew together in concern. “Are you in much pain?”
“Not at all.”
“Emma,” he whispered.
“Aren’t you supposed to get permission from me before calling me by my first name?”
Clayton sighed. “May I call you Emma?”
“No.”
Clayton chuckled. “I’ll ask you again, Emma. Are you in much pain?”
“A little, I suppose.” Emma grinned. “You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you?”
“Most definitely.” Clayton carried her into the parlor and settled her in one of the chairs facing the piano. “Don’t get up unless I’m here to assist.”
“Have you always been this bossy?”
“Am I?”
Emma couldn’t stop her grin. “Go away, Clayton.”
He chuckled and left the room.
Sophie brought her a plate filled with varying items of chocolate. “How’s your ankle?”
Emma grimaced. “Sore.”
Betty quietly came in the room carrying some crushed ice and several towels. “Miss Emma, Mr. Madden asked me to bring this to you. May I assist you?”
Emma sighed with a smile. “Yes, please. Thank you so much.” She almost cried at his thoughtfulness.
Sophie patted her shoulder. “I’ll run upstairs and get you something for the pain.”
Emma took her hand. “No, it’s fine, Soph. The ice will be enough.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’ll get something else later.”
Betty packed her ankle and then left the room. Christine joined them and they delved into a discussion about the upcoming Paxton ball. They didn’t delve too deep, as the door to the parlor opened and Daniel cleared his throat. “Mrs. Ford, I’m sorry to interrupt, but we have a situation in the stables.”
Sophie sighed and rose to her feet. “Samson, I presume?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Nona stood and addressed the small group. “Why don’t we all walk with you, Sophie? Always helps to exercise after a large meal.”
Emma grimaced up at Sophie. “Can I stay here?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll stay with you, if you like,” Christine offered.
Emma waved her hand dismissively. “No. Please, go for a walk. I’m happy to sit here by the fire.”
“Are you certain?”
Emma nodded. “Absolutely.”
Sophie squeezed her shoulder. “I won’t be long.”
Emma shrugged. “Take your time.”
* * *
Once the group left the parlor, Emma closed her eyes and tried to relax. She felt a migraine coming on and had a feeling it would be a bad one.
Forget my ankle, I need an icepack for my head.
Hearing the door open, and thinking Sophie had forgotten something, she didn’t bother to look up—until someone touched her hair. Her eyes flew open.
“Good evening, pretty girl. I don’t think we’ve been introduced. My name is Richard Madden.”
Clayton’s brother slurred his words as he staggered toward the chair Sophie had just exited. He tried to sit, but managed to trip and fall instead. He righted himself and then leered at her. Emma swallowed her fear—tried to, anyway. “Good evening,” she squeaked.
“You must be Sophie’s sister… Emma, is it?”
Emma nodded.
“You’re beautiful.” Richard crossed one leg over the other. “I think it’s safe to say you’re prettier than your sister.”
“Thank you.” She wiped her palms on her skirt. “I don’t think you should be here.”
“We’re just havin’ a conversation, beautiful Emma.”
She forced a deep breath. “I would appreciate it if you would leave… or get Daniel.”
Before Richard could respond, the parlor door opened, and Clayton stood in the doorway. “Emma?”
Richard laid his hand on Emma’s arm. “Now, look who’s come to ruin the evenin’?”
Emma pulled away with a grimace. Richard’s hands were dirty and the smell of alcohol permeated his breath and clothing.
“Richard.” Clayton closed the distance between them. “You need to go home.”
Richard staggered to his feet and cackled. “I’m not goin’ anywhere! ’Specially when I’m right in the middle of getting to know this beautiful creature.” He leaned down and grinned at Emma, his face inches from hers.
Emma wrinkled her nose and swallowed the bile threatening to spill. Before she realized what had happened, Richard was no longer standing in front of her. He was on the floor in a heap. It took a few seconds to register that Clayton was hitting him—over and over.
“Clayton, stop. You’ll kill him!” Emma pleaded.
Clayton stood and took a deep breath. He pushed Richard’s unconscious form with his boot and then rushed to Emma’s side. He knelt beside her and took her hand. “Emma, are you all right? Please tell me he didn’t hurt you.”
Tears slipped down her face as she shook her head. “He just scared me.”
Clayton handed her his handkerchief. “I am so sorry.”
Emma was humbled by the concern in his expression. She couldn’t stop herself from stroking his cheek, gently tracing the bruise around his eye. “Did he do this?”
Clayton nodded and laid his hand over hers.
“Does it hurt?”
He shook his head.
“What happened?” Jamie demanded from the doorway of the library.
Clayton squeezed his eyes shut briefly and then stood. He nodded toward the form of his brother unmoving on the floor.
Sophie pushed Jamie out of the way and rushed to her sister. “Emma? What happened? Are you okay?” Sophie frantically ran her hands over her sister’s extremities, checking for injury.
“I’m fine, sissy.”
Jamie advanced on them. “Did Richard hurt you?”
Emma shook her head. “No. Clayton stopped him from doing anything.”
“Thank you, Clayton,” Jamie said.
“I don’t know that I’ll have time to talk to Joe.” Clayton dragged his hands down his face. “I may just have to drop in tonight.”
Jamie stood over Richard and scowled. “You’re probably right. I’ll come with you.”
Sophie raised an eyebrow in question. “Sheriff Joe?”
Clayton nodded. “Jamie thought it might help if we lock Richard up and dry him out.”
As Jamie and Clayton discussed the plan for Richard, Emma heard Sophie’s sharp intake of breath. “Soph? Are you okay?”
Sophie gripped the back of the chair and began to take quick shallow breaths. She groaned and fell to the floor, wrapping her arms over her stomach.
“Sophie?” Emma squealed in fright.
Jamie’s head whipped up. “Soph?” Sophie whimpered in response and he rushed over to her. “Baby? What’s wrong?”
Sophie grasped his arm. “I don’t know.” Tears poured down Sophie’s face as she gripped her stomach. “Something’s wrong.”
“I’ll get Michael.”
Clayton bent down and lifted his brother over his shoulder. “Jamie, I’ll take Richard out to Joe. Stay and take care of Sophie and Emma.”
Clayton left the room and Jamie followed to retrieve Michael. Emma could see Jamie’s terror as he rushed out the door. They weren’t in the modern world anymore. Women died in childbirth all the time in the nineteenth century.
Emma already knew how Jamie dealt with the loss of Sophie the first time. She was pretty sure he couldn’t take it again. She heard Jamie giving Michael a rundown on what happened, as the men entered the room.
Sophie was curled up on the floor in a fetal position, sobbing. Jamie ran to her and knelt down beside her. “Tell me where it hurts.”
“Everywhere. I’m cramping. They feel like period cramps,” she whispered.
Michael knelt beside her and Jamie helped to roll Sophie on her back.
“OW! I can’t lie like this, it hurts.”
“Sophie, draw your knees up and it will help with the pain. I need to feel your stomach.” Michael did a brief examination. “James, I need to do a more thorough exam, you should go.”
“Forget it.”
“James, it’s not appropriate for you to be here for this.”
Jamie scowled. “I don’t care, Michael, I am not leaving.”
Sophie grasped Jamie’s hand. “It’s fine, Michael. I’d like him to stay.”
Emma could see Michael was very uncomfortable with his audience as he examined her. “I don’t see any blood, Sophie, which is a good sign. I want you to rest for the next few days and then we’ll see how you’re feeling before the ball.”
Sophie nodded and rolled back onto her side. Jamie knelt beside her. “Sweetheart, I’m going to carry you to the bedroom.”
Emma pushed up from the chair. “I’ll come, too.”
“What about your ankle?”
Michael held out his hand. “I’ll assist.”
Jamie picked Sophie up and held her for a moment before he took her upstairs to their bedroom. Once Jamie settled Sophie on their bed, he sat down next to her and took her hand. Michael left Emma outside of the bedroom, so she hobbled inside and sat opposite Sophie. Sophie seemed calmer, but still looked a bit green.
Jamie kissed her palm. “Are you okay?”
Sophie nodded as she rubbed her stomach.
Emma reached over to help her gently massage the pain away. “What happened with Samson?”
“He kept trying to bite one of the soldiers.” Sophie rolled her eyes. “I was feeling a little off, so I asked Topper to take care of him.”
Jamie frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?”
“Because I never feel entirely well.” She pointed to her belly. “I just chalked it up to the alien slowly sapping my life away.”
“Hm, mm.” Jamie handed Sophie a glass of water. “Well, you should sleep.”
“Okay.” Sophie took a sip and then slid under the covers.
Emma stood and hobbled to the door. “I’m going to get some more ice and then turn in.”
Jamie turned. “I’ll get it for you.”
She waved her hand. “No worries. I can do it. Just stay and take care of Sophie.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” Emma grinned. “She needs you more than I do.”
Jamie reluctantly nodded. “Come and get me if you need me, okay?”
“I will, I promise.”
Emma left the room and walked downstairs. Well, she hopped. Slowly.
Daniel rushed forward, surprised to see her. “Miss Wellington?”
“Oh, hello, Daniel. Would you please find me some ice?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Thank you. I’ll be in the parlor.”
Discovering a book full of gown patterns, Emma settled herself on the large sofa in the parlor and waited for Betty to help her with the ice. Less than an hour later, the butler announced she had a visitor.
“I do?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Daniel turned and nearly bumped into Clayton, who apparently hadn’t waited to be shown in.
Emma smiled with delight as she watched him fiddle nervously with his hat. He was absolutely adorable and her heart beat double-time.
“Emma, I’m sorry for barging in. I know it’s late, but I had to make sure you were all right. I cannot apologize enough for what Richard did. If there was a way to take it back I would.”
“Clayton. I’m fine. Please sit down.” Emma waved to the chair facing the sofa. “Did you get your brother to the jail?”
Clayton took the seat and nodded. “Yes. I told Joe not to let him out or give him anything to drink. He’s not going to be happy, but there isn’t an alternative.” Clayton ran his hands through his hair. “Emma, I’m so sorry.”
Emma sighed. “You have nothing to be sorry about. Really.”
Clayton smiled. “How is your ankle?”
“It hurts, but I think I’ll live.”
Clayton rose to his feet. “I brought something that might help” He stepped out of the room briefly and returned carrying what looked like crutches. “I cut the bottoms off, so I hope they’ll be the right height.”
Emma pushed to her feet. “Oh, Clayton, this is so thoughtful.” She slid the crutches under her arms and tested them out. “They work great.”
“That doesn’t mean you should be on your feet,” Clayton said as he helped her back into her chair. “But they’ll at least give you some mobility.”
“They are perfect. Thank you. Would you like to stay for a little while?”
“It’s late, Emma. I should really take my leave.”
Emma frowned. “Oh. I’ll walk you out.”
“No, please don’t.” Clayton stood. “Would the afternoon be acceptable for our buggy ride tomorrow? Jamie and I are meeting in the morning.”
Emma nodded. “Yes. Are you sure you’re still up to it?”
“Most definitely.” He grinned as he lifted her hand to his lips. “Why don’t I pick you up after lunch? Say, two?”
“That’s fine.”
He reached out and gently ran his finger down her cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Emma shivered. “Good night.”
* * *
The next day, Emma woke up in agony. She could barely open her eyes and the nausea threatened her ability to breathe. She was in the middle of one of the worst migraines she could remember. Hearing a knock at the door, she groaned when Jamie poked his head in. “Em, it’s time to wake up.”
“I need a bowl.”
Jamie grabbed the bowl from under the pitcher and handed it to her. “Migraine?”
“Bad migraine,” she grumbled.
“Do you have anything for it in your purse?”
“I have some of my migraine tabs in there somewhere, but I couldn’t tell you where.”
“I’ll find them.” Jamie rifled through her bag and found one of the foil packs. He handed it to her with a glass of water.
“Thanks. I think I just need to sleep for a little while, okay?”
“I’ll let the staff know not to disturb you.”
Emma took the medicine and gingerly lay back onto the pillows. “Can you also let Clayton know I can’t go for a ride today?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks.” She pulled her comforter up and over her head and sank into the mattress.
* * *
Jamie closed the door and went back to his bedroom to find Sophie sitting in the bed, reading a book. “Weren’t you on that page when I left?”
Sophie slammed the book shut. “Don’t start. I’m bored Jamie. Bored! I cannot stand this another minute. Do you hear me? Not another minute.”
“Ooh, the melodrama.” He kissed her cheek.
“Did you wake Em?”
Jamie shook his head. “She’s got a migraine, so she’s going back to sleep. It looks like a bad one.”
“Oh, no. When do you have to meet Clayton?”
He poured Sophie a glass of water and handed it to her. “He’ll be here at nine.”
“And how long will you be gone?” Sophie asked, her voice lilting suspiciously.
Jamie chuckled. “Don’t even think about it, Ten-Cow. Betty and the rest of the household staff know you’re not to get out of bed, and you are most certainly not allowed to go out to the barn.” She threw the book at his head, but missed. Jamie bent to pick up the book with a grin. “Ten-Cow, is that a respectful way to treat a literary masterpiece?”
“It’s a book on Victorian housekeeping,” she said folding her arms and pouting.
Jamie chuckled. “You could probably learn a few things in there. Just make sure it’s stuff you can do from bed.”
“I can think of a few things,” she said, raising her eyebrow.
“I bet you can.” He ran a comb through his hair.
“I am going to check on Emma at some point.”
“That’s fine, sweetheart, just make sure you don’t stay on your feet for very long.”
She saluted him. “I’m not sure I like the lieutenant. Can we go back to the CEO?”
He laughed. “It’s not like I didn’t direct people as a CEO, honey.”
“You just weren’t as bossy in the twenty-first century.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t have a pregnant wife in the twenty-first century, either.”
Sophie waved her hand with a groan. “Touché and all that crap.”
Jamie sat on the edge of the bed and kissed her. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. Even if you are a pain in the butt.”
Jamie laughed and left the room. Clayton was waiting in the foyer when he arrived downstairs. “Good morning, Clay. Have you had breakfast?”
Clayton shook his head. “I haven’t.”
“Good. Neither have I. Join me?” Jamie didn’t wait for an answer as he led Clayton into the dining room. “Emma won’t be able to go for a ride today.”
Clayton frowned. “Is something amiss?”
“She’s got a pretty severe headache, but I think if she is able to rest today, she’ll be fine.”
Clayton shifted from one foot to the other. “Are you certain?”
Jamie chuckled. “She’ll be fine, Clay.”
They sat down for breakfast and Jamie organized a tray for Sophie, which he gave to Betty to deliver. Choosing not to linger over the meal, they left and rode out to the jail to take care of the Richard situation, arriving to hear bellowing from the inside.
Clayton groaned. “That sounds like my brother.”
“Poor Joe.”
They walked in to find Joe sitting with his feet up on the desk and a cup of coffee in his hands. He didn’t seem to care at all that Richard was yelling obscenities at him.
“Good morning, Joe,” Jamie said.
Joe gave a slight nod as he sipped his coffee. “Good morning, gentlemen.”
“You bastards. Clay, get me out of here,” Richard bellowed.
Clayton shook his head. “No.”
Richard wrapped his hands around the bars and scowled. “What do you mean ‘no’?”
“You’re not leaving that cell until you are prepared to stop drinking.”
“Go to hell, Clayton.”
Clayton rolled his eyes. “I’ve already been there, Richard. You were playing the role of Satan. You’re out of control and it has to stop.”
Richard growled. “You know nothing, Clayton.”
Clayton strolled to the cell and crossed his arms. “Let’s just revisit what I do know, shall we? I know that your behavior toward the women we care about is unconscionable. I know that you have not been sober in months. I know that you pissed yourself while you were passed out drunk on your office floor, and I know that if you continue to drink, the President will not put up with this conduct.”
Richard shrugged. “I can stop drinking whenever I want to.”
“I beg to differ, Richard,” Jamie said.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Jamie glared at him. “I’m here to assist. You accosted my wife and my sister-in-law. I have a personal interest in you getting help. The bottom line is that if you don’t, I may end up killing you myself.”
Clayton stepped away from the bars. “Minister Cunningham has agreed to meet with you over the next week or so. I suggest you take the help. Otherwise, your job, and your family will be lost to you.”
Clayton turned and stomped out of the building. Jamie followed and they mounted their horses and took off back to the arena.