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"I understand why you don't want to call me 'Ma', so if you can think of something else, that's fine with me. Okay?"
Nathan looked up, his forehead creased in a frown. "You ain't gonna make me?"
"No. When you're ready for me to be your mother, that'll be the right time to call me 'Ma'."
Emma reached around the little boy's shoulders and drew her to him in a gentle hug. She felt him tense under her touch, but he didn't pull away. She smiled down at him, and for a moment, she thought she saw his lips quiver in a smile of their own.
Yes, Emma thought, it would take time to become a real mother to Sam's children, but she'd made a good start.
***
Sam appeared beside Emma several minutes later and took her hand. "Would you like to dance, Mrs. Jenkins? I believe this is your favorite song."
The strains of a ballad filled the church hall, and Emma smiled. "Did you arrange...?"
Sam nodded. "Amanda told me."
Emma smiled. What a lovely thing to do! With every passing minute, she was learning more about the man who was now her husband, and was becoming more and more pleased about the decision she'd made. He was a good man, and he'd make a good husband.
Life was perfect. Well, as perfect as it ever could be. Of course it would have been better to marry for love and to be able to bear her own children, but this was the best she could hope for.
"Well?" Sam's deep voice broke into her thoughts. "The music will be over by the time we get on the dance floor."
"Oh ... yes ... I love to dance ..."
Yet when she went into Sam's arms and began to move to the rhythm of the waltz, her knees almost buckled. Heat from the touch of his hand on her back scorched her, and the way he clasped
her other hand in his ...
Emma caught a glimpse of Becky curled up on a chair. One fist was rubbing her eye while the other hand twirled one of her ringlets, a sure sign she was tired.
"I think we should get the children home," Emma said. "It's been a long day for them."
"You're right," Sam agreed. “We have a fair ride home, and we only have an hour or so of daylight left.”
“It'll be past time for bed by the time we get the children settled."
As soon as the word left her mouth, Emma felt her face grow scarlet. What was she thinking to even say the word 'bed' in the company of a man? Embarrassed, she clamped her lips shut and turned away, praying Sam wouldn't notice her flushed face.
"Yep, I'm pretty tired myself. I didn't sleep too well last night. Bed's sounding pretty good right about now. 'Course sharing it'll take a little gettin' used to, I suppose."
The first stirrings of panic flitted through Emma at the thought.
Bed. She was expected to share a bed with this man, this man who'd caused sensations and feelings she didn't recognize and didn't know how to deal with. This was supposed to be a business arrangement. So why did she enjoy feeling his arms around her? Why did the touch of his hand make her insides quiver? And why did his feather-light caress make her hunger for more?
***
"We're almost there." Sam slid a glance at Emma beside him on the seat of the wagon. "The house is just over the next rise." The sun had almost disappeared below the horizon, but there was still enough light for him to make out the long lashes framing her emerald eyes and the way a few tendrils of pale hair curled to frame her cheeks. And he could still see her soft, full lips. Those lips had lingered in his thoughts ever since he'd touched them in church. And though guilt filled him every time he thought of them, his mind couldn't seem to let go.
Emma didn't respond. She just sat there, her back ramrod-straight, with her hands clenched together in her lap. She was looking straight ahead, ignoring the children's constant chatter in the wagon bed behind them. A tiny pulse point in her neck beat erratically.
She hadn't said a word since they'd left Charity behind. For the first few minutes, Sam had tried to make conversation, but as the sun dipped further towards the horizon, he'd given up.
She was clearly terrified. Either that, or she already regretted her decision.
Sam glanced behind him. The boys were lying on the floor of the buggy gazing at the sky. Becky was sound asleep, curled up beside Nathan. Nathan's hand rested possessively on Becky's arm. Sam's heart tripped. God, he loved those children of his! If only Catherine could have ...
His thoughts drifted to the first time he'd seen this land, with Catherine beside him. He'd had such ambition then, such big plans. And Catherine had even seemed excited by the prospect of transforming the desolate stretch of wilderness into a cattle ranch.
