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Emma chuckled. By the bright purple stain on her dress, it appeared more pie had landed on her dress than had made its way to her mouth.
"Pretty dress," Becky said, then grabbed a fistful of the silk fabric and rested it against her cheek.
Emma crouched down to her level. "We'll pack the dress away and you can wear it at your wedding."
Becky's eyes lit up. "Me have a wedding? When? Tomorrow?"
The guests standing close enough to hear Becky's excited chatter laughed.
"No, not tomorrow," Emma said with a smile. "When you grow up."
Becky's smile disappeared. "But me want to wear a pretty dress."
Right then, Emma made a note to herself to buy a length of silk and make Becky a dress.
Joseph stood quietly, his dark eyes reminding her so much of his father’s. "So you're our ma now?" The question was more a statement.
Emma nodded. "That's right."
A look passed between Joseph and Nathan.
So this was the reason the two boys looked so glum.
"So we have to call you Ma?" Joseph asked.
"You don't have to," Emma said. "I'd like that, but only if you wouldn't mind."
Joseph nodded, and again, that same look passed between the two boys. "I s'pose that would be okay."
Emma smiled. It might take a little time, but the children were already beginning to accept her as their mother.
Nathan's forehead creased in a frown, and his eyes narrowed. "I ain't callin' you Ma."
The confidence Emma had felt only moments ago disappeared.
Sam approached just in time to hear Nathan's comment. He frowned, and Emma noticed his jaw tighten. "Nathan, mind your--"
"Nathan," Emma interrupted, "Can I talk to you for a moment? By ourselves?"
Nathan shrugged. Emma gave Sam a look that asked for his indulgence and led the little boy to a quiet corner.
"Let's sit here," she suggested, then sat down on one of the hard-backed wooden chairs. Nathan sat on a chair beside her.
How could she win the trust of this little boy? She had no experience in dealing with children, but she recognized pain and suffering when she saw it. Nathan was hurting inside, and only time and patience would heal the grief he held inside. But how could she convince him to allow her to help him?
Nathan sat silently and stared at the floor, swinging his legs back and forth. His hands were clenched together, and his lips were pursed.
"Nathan?" Emma said softly.
He looked up, and Emma noticed his eyes were bright with unshed tears.
"You want to make me call you ma, don't you?" he asked sullenly. "But you ain't my ma. Not really."
Emma thought for a moment. She refused to begin her relationship with Nathan as his enemy.
"No," she said softly. "I'm not your mother, but I would like to be your friend. Can we start with that?"
Nathan kept his head down, apparently concentrating on the crease in his pants. After several long moments, he shrugged. "I suppose," he muttered finally.
