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Luke shook his head once at Maria and Emma could tell that whatever the other woman wanted to say wouldn't be voiced now. Luke had that look on his face that was silencing the older woman.
Luke rammed his hat back on his head and never glanced in Emma's direction again. He looked at Maria when he spoke. "She was out in the garden and fell. She needs something else to wear while you wash her clothes."
He didn't stop for an answer, just slammed through the backdoor without waiting for his lunch.
Maria looked at her and asked, "What's got him so riled?"
Emma cleared her throat and said softly, "Evidently I didn't obey his command to stay in the house and he's angry about it."
"Ahh," Maria rolled her eyes and made the noncommittal response.
Emma changed the subject as gracefully as she could. "Can I help you with lunch?"
Maria smiled and replied with a laugh when she saw what was on the table, "I guess squash will be on the menu soon?"
An hour later, Emma was full as a tick from the thick, creamy tomato soup she'd eaten for lunch. She had had a bath and was now wearing one of Maria's dresses. Although it covered her decently enough, it kept slipping off one shoulder as she sat and peeled and quartered the squash for supper.
She listened as Maria chatted away happily. "And our daughter now has three babies of her own."
"Where does she live?" Emma asked.
"She lives in Denver with her husband and his parents."
"That must please you that they are in the same state and not across the country."
"Yes, it does, but I have to confess that I get a bit jealous of the other grandmother. She gets to see those babies everyday while I only get to see them once a year or so."
"It must be wonderful , though, having such a large and happy family. You seem very proud of them." Emma chatted as she layered the squash in a casserole dish with onions, butter, and breadcrumbs while she dreamed of big families.
"Yes, very proud. I count my blessings every day."
"I've never had any family." Emma didn't intend to turn melancholy, but with all the talk of family, it just slipped out.
"None? No family at all?" Maria sounded astonished and upset at the same time.
"None at all. I was raised in an orphanage my whole life. In St. Louis. I never knew who my parents were."
"That is so sad, Emma." The older woman had stopped what she was doing completely and stood watching Emma with an unreadable expression on her face.
"The past is in the past and it wasn't so bad anyway, really. I was raised with a wonderful girl, Evelyn Turner, and we're still friends to this day." Emma tried to be as upbeat as she could and looked up from what she was doing with a smile for the other woman to put her at ease.
Maria bent and braised the roast with drippings from a large spoon. "What did you do when you left the orphanage?"
"I had to stay until I was eighteen, unless I wanted to run away, which I didn't. They helped me secure a position with a widow in town as a sort of companion. I read to her, took her to church on Sunday, helped with the light housework and such, helped manage her household, that sort of thing. She only recently passed away." Emma's voice dwindled to a halt when she thought about the old woman that had become a great friend to her.
"Well when in the world did you find time to get married youself?"
The question threw Emma for a loop and as she glanced down to regroup, Maria must have thought she'd pried because the other woman continued, "Maybe it's something you don't wish to speak of?"
Emma nodded her head in agreement.
Maria brightened and went on, "And now you're having an adventure and going west, though it's a shame about yesterday."
"Yes." Emma stood to her feet and began carrying the casserole dish to the stove. Her limp was more pronounced than usual. She had well and truly bruised the bottom of her foot, darn it.
"You're going to hurt yourself further if you keep putting your weight on that ankle, and Luke will have my head for it."
Emma agreed and soon found herself ensconced in the same chair trying the read the same book that she had earlier in the day.
She must have fallen asleep because she woke at a sharp sound and jerked in her chair and looked up to find Luke watching her silently from a few feet away.
She watched him warily as she lifted a hand to smooth back the hair that had fallen over her face.
His eyes dropped and as she came fully awake, Emma gasped as she looked down and found the neckline of her dress had dropped completely off her shoulder. She pulled it up quickly as a blush spread across her face.
Luke felt himself stiffen as the blood rushed to his shaft and grew into a full-blown erection. He hissed out a curse as he hardened against his will from the sight of one soft, white shoulder and the top curve of her breast. A breast that wasn't bare at all, in fact it was covered by a white petticoat, possibly two. But that didn't seem to matter to his unruly body.
He gritted his teeth and tried to regain control. "Supper's ready. I'll help you get to the table."
"No, thank you, I can manage--"
"Do you have to contradict every damn thing I say?"
Emma felt her eyes widen as his temper seemed to take off like a shot for no reason again. "No, I didn't realize I did."
He moved toward her and held his hand out. "Let's go."
Emma put her hand in his and he pulled her to her feet. "Thank you, I can w--"
Her words came to a halt as once again, she found herself lifted and carried into the kitchen. He looped her arm around his neck and soon she found herself plunked down in a chair at the table.
The savory roast sat in the middle and her squash casserole sat beside it but Maria was nowhere to be found.
She didn't ask any questions as he stood beside her plate and served a large portion onto her plate.
The food he was giving her was way too much, and Emma lifted her eyes to his. She didn't want him to think she was arguing about every little thing, but she had been taught her whole life not to waste food.
As her eyes met his, her voice was soft, "Luke."
His eyes tangled with hers. "Too much?"
"Yes."
He put about half back in the serving dish and served his own plate and sat.
Emma waited until he picked up his fork and began digging in. She took a few careful bites and was pleased that her casserole as well as Maria's roast had turned out so delicious.
Luke studied her as they ate. His housekeeper's shape was quite normal for a grandmother of her age. But her form was much larger than Emma's, and the dress swallowed the girl completely. She ate with one hand while she held the dress at her throat with the other.
"The dress is too big," he stated the obvious in a rough voice. "Your clothes should be here by tomorrow."
Her eyes lifted from her plate. "Thank you."
His gaze narrowed on hers and she knew her face turned a bright, fiery color as she dropped her eyes from his intense, heated look.
"How long ago did your husband die?" His voice was rough as he asked her the question.
She peeked through her lashes and saw he was studying her with a keenly observant look.
She didn't want to tell more lies but she was embroiled so deeply now she didn't know how to get out of it. "A while now."
"You don't like talking about it?" His eyes were remote, dark and unfathomable.
"It's not that, it's just that--"
"Was he mean to you?" Storm clouds had gathered on his face.
Her eyes flew to his. "In what way?"
"Was he rough on you? Take his pleasure and leave you wanting?"
"W-wanting?" she asked on a whisper.
"You don't know what I'm talking about?" He looked incredulous. "You don't know what wanting means?"
"How can you ask me these questions? We don't even know each other." Emma was not at all comfortable with the conversation. She hadn't been comfortable since she'd met him,
but this conversation was making it worse.
"We're not having supper in some fancy hotel back east, honey. It's just you and me and we're alone in my house in the middle of my kingdom." His voice was sharp and he stressed the word alone.
"Your kingdom?" She asked with some confusion.
"You see any other ruler around here?"
"No," she answered simply.
