Chapter Eight

“Wait, what?” Emma Jean felt blindsided. “You want me to leave?”

“Of course we don’t want you to leave. You’re always welcome here. Always ,” Tally stressed. “But after what happened with Cody in the stables...we just think you’d be safer staying with Noah.”

“You want me to stay with Noah?” Emma Jean didn’t know whether to be excited or terrified about sharing space with Noah. He’d already proved he’d protect her, but she didn’t want to be under another man’s thumb. Would he do that to her? Treat her that way? She didn’t think so. After all, that’s not who Noah was. And despite her attraction to him, and the lifelong crush she’d been harboring, she wanted her freedom above all else. To finally get to choose the path her life would take. Letting Noah take care of her spit in the face of that plan.

“We think it’s the smart thing to do.”

“And you all came to this decision without me.” There was no bitterness in Emma Jean’s voice, just resignation. As if, having decisions that affected her taken out of her hands was par for the course. Once again, she was not in control of her destiny. She tampered down her frustration. She knew her friends were only looking out for her. Besides, she couldn’t blame them wanting her out of their home after what happened. Not when they had a small child who might have to bear witness to Cody’s violence.

“You don’t have to go,” Tally assured her. “We’re not kicking you out. We just want you to be safe.”

Her friend’s unwavering support is what sealed the deal for Emma Jean. She didn’t want Tally to worry anymore or put her through any unnecessary trouble. “I know. I’ll go.”

A knock at the front door preceded Noah and Deputy Hank Tremont entering the living room where Emma Jean, Tally, and Luke were all sitting. Noah strode across the room, side-stepping the pile of Legos Tuck had left in the middle of the floor, and sat down next to Emma Jean on the couch.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” he said, casually slinging an arm around her.

Emma Jean just barely caught the smirk on Tally’s face before she tried to hide it.

“Mrs. Sampson,” Deputy Tremont began, “I need to speak with you about the incident that occurred last night.”

“Please, call me Emma Jean.”

“Alright, Emma Jean. Tell me what happened.” Deputy Tremont removed his hat and took a seat opposite Emma Jean and Noah.
        As she recounted the previous evening for the deputy, she felt her anger growing.

Anger at Cody for hurting her

Anger that he had the nerve to show up at her friend’s home.

Anger that he dared to trespass in the one place Emma Jean had begun to think of as her sanctuary.

And anger at herself for putting herself in a situation where she was talking to a sheriff’s deputy about her abusive husband in the first place.

When she was done, Deputy Tremont looked up from his notepad and looked her square in the eye. “I’m going to be blunt with you, Emma Jean. I know about the story you fed Sheriff Jenkins. Would you like to revise your previous statement?”

Emma Jean looked at him with wide eyes. “Let’s say I did,” she began cautiously, “would I get in trouble for lying to a police officer?”

Deputy Tremont smiled. “No, Emma Jean. You never filed a report, so you didn’t break the law.”

Relaxing into Noah, she recounted the events that led to her calling Tally for help and her subsequent hospital stay. The more she talked, the more she just wanted it all to be over.

“I suggest you file for a restraining order,” Tremont was saying.

Her weariness evident, Emma Jean nodded. “I’m going to file for divorce,” she said softly.

“I should hope so,” Noah muttered, causing her to stiffen.

“Of course, I’m going to. I’m not stupid.”

“Never said you were stupid, Emmie. Just don’t want him anywhere near you ever again,” Noah said, pulling her farther into the protective circle of his arms.

“Well,” Tremont said, standing, “if it makes things easier, the paperwork for the restraining order and divorce can be found online. Go to the Montana Department of Justice’s website for the restraining order first, and then go from there.”

Emma Jean and Noah both stood as well. “Thank you, Deputy Tremont,” she said.

He tipped his hat. “Anything else you need, don’t hesitate to give us a call,” he said, pointedly, like he knew Emma Jean wanted to as unobtrusive as possible. “Oh, and Emma Jean?” He waited until he caught her eyes. “Don’t go anywhere alone.”

“She won’t,” Noah assured him, not giving Emma Jean a chance to speak for herself.

Once the deputy was gone, Emma Jean gave Noah some serious side-eye while extricating herself from his hold. “You’re not the boss of me, Noah Hawkins.”

Noah sighed, whether in resignation or frustration, Emma Jean wasn’t sure. “Sorry, sunshine, but Hank is right. You can’t go anywhere alone.”

“That may be true, but that doesn’t make it any of your  business. I’m not your responsibility.”

“Like hell, you aren’t,” he snapped.

Emma Jean’s face flushed at both his statement and his tone with both anger and arousal. Why am I aroused?  she thought.

“Emma Jean,” Tally interrupted, “remember what we talked about?”

Emma Jean blew out a breath. “Yeah, I know.” She turned back to Noah. “I have to go pack,” was all she said before turning and heading up the stairs.

***

Emma Jean brushed past Noah as he let her into his apartment. The space was exactly what she would have expected from Noah. Exposed brick walls were dull with age. The decor was mostly casual and homey, with a few artistic pieces for accents. The furniture looked comfortable and lived in. It was mismatched but somehow still coordinated, as if each piece was specifically chosen to complement the others without forming a complete set. It was definitely a masculine space, with shades of gray being the predominant color scheme.

The living area and kitchen were combined in an open floor plan. Down a short hallway was Noah’s home office. The office matched the rest of the apartment, with a minimalist design in the desk and accessories. The desk chair, a cream-colored tufted piece, was a bit formal in comparison but still seemed to fit the feel of the room. It looked comfortable at least, and Emma Jean supposed it would have to be if Noah spent a large portion of his day parked in it.

The third story of the building housed two bedrooms and a large bathroom that Emma Jean thought might be what bathrooms in heaven looked like. The shower was big enough to hold three people and the soaking tub was practically large enough to swim in.

“This is your room,” Noah said, drawing her attention to a sparsely decorated room. “Sorry, it’s not much. No one really stays here, so I never really put any effort into decorating it.”

She looked around, taking in the double bed on a simple metal frame pushed up against one wall and a slate gray four-drawer dresser on the wall next to the door. The bed was flanked by one night stand in the same color as the dresser. “You have a lot of gray.”

Noah huffed out a choked laugh. “Yeah, I guess I do. Make yourself at home,” he added, setting her duffle bag on the foot of the bed.

“Noah,” she called, turning. “I know this is an inconvenience-”

“ No,” he cut her off. “Let’s not do this again, Emmie. Having you in my home isn’t an inconvenience. It’s a privilege.”  With that, he turned and left the bedroom.

Emma Jean stood, stunned for a moment, and wondered what to make of his declaration. Hope welled up in her chest at the thought of something more existing between them, but she tamped it down when she remembered that this was a temporary solution to her current predicament.

And, technically, she was still a married woman.