Chapter Five

        “Pancakes,” Tucker declared, pointing at the calico.

        “Okay, Pancakes, it is,” Emma Jean agreed, eyeing the last cat to be named as she sauntered off to join Raptor , the tuxedo, and Little Foot , the gray tabby, at the food dishes.

        Larry, the only longhaired cat in the bunch, who Emma Jean was certain was a female Persian, lounged on a hay bale with apparent disinterest in either her or Tuck. “Sorry, Larry,” Emma Jean muttered her apology to the lazing feline.

        It was Thanksgiving morning, and, once again, Tally had ushered Emma Jean out of the kitchen, refusing to let her help. Emma Jean tried not to take it personally, though. Luke had confided in her that Tally didn’t much care for anyone to be in her kitchen when she was cooking. So, instead of getting in the way, she’d taken Tuck out to the barn and let him name the cats.

        Emma Jean had just made herself comfortable on a hay bale next to Larry when Noah arrived.

        “Hey, sunshine.”

        “Hey.” She gave him a small smile as she scooted to the left to make room for him.

        “Your face looks better,” he whispered.

        “Oh. Yeah, it feels better,” she said just as quietly.

        Tucker was no more than fifteen feet away petting Raptor and giggling at how Little Foot was batting a small rock around.

        “I’m glad. I hope you’re wearing stretch pants today. Tally’s making enough food for the whole town, and she’ll expect us to clean our plates.”

        She smiled and shook her head. “She wouldn’t even let me help.”

        “Ahh, don’t take it personally. She won’t let me help either.”

        “Yeah, but that’s because you can’t cook!”

        “Says who?” he asked with mock offense.

        “Says everybody who’s ever been subjected to your attempts.”

        It was Noah’s turn to shake his head. “You burn one Christmas ham and they don’t let you live it down,” he said, referring to the Christmas when he was seventeen and wanted to help his mom by pitching in with the holiday dinner.

        “Christmas ham? Is that what that was supposed to be?”

        “Well, what did you think it was? No, wait. Don’t answer that.”

        Emma Jean couldn’t help but laugh. “All you had to do what turn the oven on and put the ham in.”

        “I got distracted!”

        “By what?”

        “The beautiful Snow Queen was in my house. How was I supposed to focus on anything else?”

        His mischievous grin set a whole swarm of butterflies alight in her belly. When Noah was seventeen and Emma Jean was sixteen, she’d been crowned the Snow Queen at Medicine Wheel High’s winter formal.

        She tried to play off his comment as a joke, not daring to hope that it meant anything more. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, shoving his shoulder.

        “You’re gorgeous,” he declared.

        She sucked in a breath. “Noah…”

        He only looked at her, eyes roaming over her face. What he was looking for, she didn’t know. Of its own accord, her upper body began to sway. Noah’s magnetic pull drew her into his orbit. Her lips parted, silently asking for something she couldn’t give voice to. His body answered, leaning in until their mouths were mere inches apart.

        Noah would have given her what she wanted had a giggling toddler not reminded them that they were not alone. He let out an awkward chuckle as he pulled back. “Sorry. Bad timing.”

        Emma Jean was jolted from her Noah-induced daze, and though he was right, she couldn’t help but feel rejected, and that rejection stung. She felt uncomfortable in her skin. Her bruised and battered skin, she reminded herself. “Right. C-can you watch Tucker? I have to go,” she said, standing and power walking to the door.

        “Emma Jean, wait!”

***

        Noah’s call went unanswered.

        He wanted to chase her, but he couldn’t leave his nephew alone with only the cats for supervision, so he sat back down on the hay bale and scrubbed his hands over his face in frustration, thinking back to the day when he’d driven her home from the hospital.

The ride home that day had been torture. Just being near her, particularly in a confined space had done things to his body. It was like a system overload. He’d wanted her closer even knowing that would likely short-circuit his brain. Then he felt a small bit of disgust at himself. Lusting over her when she was beaten down both physically and mentally. Remembering how Tally and Luke said they’d found her had lit a completely different type of fire in his veins, and he swore to make sure Cody Sampson paid.

He knew his timing was shit, and not just because they’d been in the company of a child. Emma Jean was hurting, both physically and emotionally. It burned in his gut each time he saw her flinch due to a loud noise or a stranger getting a little too close. All he wanted to do was keep her close to him. Keep her safe. He’d waited years for a chance he’d never really thought he’d get. Now she was here. Away from Cody and never going back. He could swoop in and save the day. Convince her that it should have been him the whole time.

        He’d waited this long; he could wait a little longer.

***

Seven years ago

         “I heard from Andrea Varletti that Cody Sampson told Justin Jenkins that he’s going to ask you out,” Tally said conspiratorially.

        “What? Are you sure? He really said that?” Emma Jean said excitedly.

        Noah stood in the darkened kitchen listening to his sister and her best friend talk about boys. Having taken a break from binge watching The Walking Dead , he’d wandered down to the kitchen for a can of Coke and a turkey sandwich when he’d heard the girls talking. He felt himself get a little sick at listening to Emma Jean gush about the football player, and all around douchebag, as far as Noah was concerned. He felt even sicker still when he admitted to himself that the only reason he was at home that night instead of out with his friends like any normal eighteen-year-old on a Friday evening was because Emma Jean Barker was in his house.

And she was talking about another boy.

        For the past year, Noah had been harboring a secret crush on his sister’s best friend. Tally and Emma Jean had been friends since kindergarten, and for a long time, Noah saw her as another sister. He wasn’t sure precisely when his feelings started to change, but now he looked at her as less of a sister and more as the sun that illuminated his sky. She was the thing all his thoughts revolved around.

        “So, if he asks you out, what are you going to say?” Tally was asking.

        “I don’t know. I mean, he’s Cody Sampson . Do you think he’ll really ask me?”

        Noah’s stomach clenched at the reverence in Emma Jean’s voice when she said the douchebag’s name. Not to mention the fact that she apparently doubted her own allure to the male gender. He knew he should have spoken up about his feelings for Emma Jean before now, but he’d waffled, thinking they’d always have time. She was practically a part of their family, so it’s not like she was going anywhere. He should never have taken her availability for granted. Now, it was too late, if her excitement at the prospect of dating Cody Sampson was any indication.

        Feeling low, he took the sandwich he’d made that he no longer wanted and his can of Coke and trudged back upstairs to his room. Later, as he laid in bed, he thought about Emma Jean’s golden hair, her blinding smile, and her pure heart. Then he made a promise to himself. When it was time, when Emma Jean was single (assuming she said yes to Cody), and when he had the chance, he’d ask Emma Jean to be his.

***

Present

         Noah was greeted by the scents of Thanksgiving dinner when he entered the farmhouse. He watched Tally and Luke move around the kitchen and each other in what looked like a well-choreographed dance. For someone who didn’t like others in her kitchen, Tally sure seemed comfortable with Luke in her space.

        “How come Luke gets to help, and I don’t?”

        “You can’t cook,” they both answered in unison.

        Heaving a melodramatic sigh, he ushered Tuck into the bathroom to wash the dirt, hay, and cat hair away. “Alright, little man, soap ‘em up.”

        They washed up side-by-side before Noah led Tuck into the living room and parked him in front of the T.V. with his coloring book and crayons and put the copy of How to Train Your Dragon  that Noah got him for his birthday in the DVD player. Making sure his nephew was sufficiently distracted, he wandered back into the kitchen.

        “Emma Jean come back in yet?” he asked his sister.

        “Yeah,” she replied, frowning at the pie in front of her and fussing over the design she had made in the top layer of the crust. “She went upstairs. I think she wasn’t feeling well.”

        “Alright, well, I’ll just run up and check on her,” he said, already inching his way toward the stairs.

        “I just bet you will,” Tally muttered.

        “What?”

        “Nothing.” She turned to smile at him, but he noticed that mischievous twinkle in her eye, and he knew better than to trust her when she got that look.

        By the time he got to the top of the stairs, he realized why.

        Emma Jean was in the shower.

        He could hear the water running from just outside the door. He closed his eyes, his mind overrun with images of a naked and wet Emma Jean. He bit back a groan when his pants tightened around the sudden swelling in his groin. He imagined the way her hands slid over her silky skin and the way her nipples might peek out from behind the soap suds just before they washed away. So lost in his fantasy, that now involved her fingertips dancing over her belly toward the paradise between her thighs, he didn’t even hear the water shut off.

        He was still standing outside the bathroom door with his eyes closed when the door swung open to reveal a startled Emma Jean. Her surprised shriek jolted him out of his lustful haze and reminded him of his manners.

        “Oh, my God, Emmie, I’m so sorry.”

        She swallowed loudly. “You startled me, that’s all.” Her eyes darted back and forth, looking anywhere but at him. Her skin was flushed from the heat of her shower, but the blush in her cheeks deepened to a bewitching shade of scarlet when her gaze landed on the bulge in his pants.

        “Shit,” Noah hissed. His erection strained against the fabric and he was surprised it didn’t burst forth Alien -style.  “Emmie,” he groaned. “Look away.”

        Emma Jean stood frozen, not heeding Noah’s plea.

        “Or don’t. I don’t know what I’m saying,” he agonized when she didn’t avert her eyes. He raised his hand, the tips of his fingers mere inches away from the milky skin of her bare shoulder.

The air sizzled and crackled when he made contact, and they both seemed to hold their breath anticipating whatever was going to happen next. Noah’s hooded gaze met Emma Jean’s, and with a small tilt of her chin, she granted him the permission his eyes were seeking. He slowly trailed his fingers, in a feather-light touch, from her shoulder over her collarbone until he reached the dip at the base of her throat.

Emma Jean’s breath quickened as her grip on the towel tightened. She was as afraid that he would stop the torture as much as she was afraid that he wouldn’t. Her knees began to knock together when his fingers descended, leaving the space between her clavicles, and stroked over her breastbone.

Noah’s own breath hitched as his fingers came dangerously close to something he desperately wanted to touch. Knowing that Emma Jean was nowhere near ready for the type of intimacy Noah had in mind, he forced himself to retract his wayward hand. Glancing up, he took in the disappointment in her eyes and kicked himself for taking such liberties with a woman who trusted him to keep her safe, not take advantage of her.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped, turning and jogging to the bottom of the stairs, taking a few moments to get his body under control before facing anyone else in the house.

***

Thanksgiving dinner was always a big affair at Hawkins Stables, as were most holiday dinners there. Tally’s employees, who she thought of as family, all joined around the table to gorge themselves on Tally’s cooking and healthy servings of beer and wine. As far as Noah knew, neither Jonas nor Carter had any family to speak of, so they didn’t have anywhere else to be during the holidays. Fiona, as Noah understood it, had family but they weren’t on good terms, so she often joined the rest of the Hawkins Stables clan. Now, they had Emma Jean at the table, and the addition made for a bit of a tight squeeze, but Noah didn’t mind since he had purposefully placed the extra chair directly to his right. Noah had no doubt his sister had noticed the maneuver judging by the smirk on her face.

With everybody seated, and full plates of turkey and all the fixings in front of them, talk   turned to football among the men. The smack talk and posturing was punctuated by eye rolls, head shakes, and snorts from the women. Noah and Luke had always been more baseball aficionados than football fans, but wasn’t everyone a football fan on Thanksgiving? It certainly didn’t stop them from debating their Denver versus Minnesota rivalry.

“There’s no way the Vikings are going to take the Broncos this year, bud,” Noah declared.

“Dude. You and I both know that the Broncos are nothing without their precious Peyton Manning. It’s on , this year,” Luke argued.

Shaking his head, Noah turned in his chair. “Carter? Care to chime in here? Help a brother out?”

Carter’s lips twitched as he shrugged. “Always been more of a Seattle fan, myself.”

“What?!” That was Luke.

“Who even are  you?” Noah narrowed his eyes on his sister’s general laborer with suspicion. Turning to his sister, he added, “You really need to develop your vetting process for new hires. Can’t believe you let this guy in,” he said, jerking a thumb in Carter’s direction.

“Despite his abysmal taste in football teams, Carter has been a wonderful addition to the Hawkins Stables family,” Tally said, magnanimously, but with a cheeky grin.

If there was one thing the rest of the group could agree on, it was their mutual distaste for Seattle. Any football fan will tell you, the league needed a villain. For the residents of Medicine Wheel, Montana, it just so happened to be the city that birthed grunge rock, corporate coffee, and crappy weather. As the guys moved on from ribbing Carter and began discussing player stats, Tally leaned toward her friend.

“Have you spoken to your parents?”

Emma Jean shook her head minutely. “They’ve left a couple of messages, but I haven’t called them back.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, really. All I know is that I can’t face them right now.” Emma Jean figured Tally wouldn’t understand. As far as she knew, Tally had never disappointed her parents at all, let alone to the degree that Emma Jean had so epically done. Emma Jean didn’t want to hear the ‘I told you so’ her mother was likely to lay at her feet or the disapproving scowl on her father’s face. She was sure that gossip had spread from the hospital and filtered into town by now. Her official story had been that she fell, but she knew she hadn’t been fooling anybody. It wasn’t the first time she’d been in public sporting a suspicious bruise.

“You don’t have to see them in person, yet,” Tally pointed out. “At least call them, and let them know you’re okay. Besides, it’s Thanksgiving. Aren’t they going to worry if they don’t at least speak to you?”

Emma Jean worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “Yeah. You’re right. I’ll call them after dinner.”

Tally smiled and gave Emma Jean’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Good.”