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"What'dya go and do that for?" Nathan asked. "You said we could stay here and live with you."
Heavens. Why had Nathan mentioned that right now, before she'd even had a chance to discover how much of what they had told her was true?
The children's father turned to face her, as if he was seeing her for the first time. "What the hell have you done to my children?" the man raged. "What are they talking about?"
"Mr. Jenkins, I assume?" If she could pretend she didn't hear him, perhaps he'd forget what Nathan had said.
"Uh ... yeah ... Sorry. Sam Jenkins."
"I'm pleased to meet you. The children spent the night here with me."
&n
bsp; "I'm sorry they put you out, ma'am. I'll deal with them when we get home."
"Pa, we can live here," Joseph yelled. "Miss Emma said we could." He paused, then gave Emma a daring glance. “Unless she was lying."
"Joseph, that's enough." Sam glared at Joseph. "Apologize to the lady."
"Sorry, ma'am," Joseph muttered sullenly.
"Mind explaining what he's talking about?" Sam asked, turning his attention to Emma. "Why would he think he was going to live here? What did you tell them?"
"It isn't what I told them," she replied, ignoring his initial question. "It's what they told me. They're afraid, Mr. Jenkins."
His voice boomed in the small kitchen. "Afraid? Afraid of what?"
"You. And the way you're bellowing isn't going to help."
"Bellowing?"
Emma nodded. "Please lower your voice."
"Why the hell would they be afraid of me?" he asked. Emma was pleased to see that his voice had reached a more acceptable level.
"Ask them yourself."
His gaze left her face and focused on the two boys. Nathan was the first to speak. "I ain't scared of nobody," he announced with his head held high, although Emma didn't miss the tremor in his voice.
"Come here, Nathan," Sam ordered. "Now."
Slowly, Nathan crossed to his father. Setting Becky back on her chair, Sam crouched down and looked him squarely in the eye. "Do you have any idea what you put me through last night?" Sam looked up and caught Joseph's gaze across the room. "Do you?"
"We thought we were helping ... honest ..."
"Helping?"
Joseph suddenly moved, taking his place beside his brother. With a steady voice that made him seem years older, he explained the reasoning behind their actions. "Are you mad at us?" he asked when he was finished.
Sam raked his fingers through his hair and gave Emma a questioning glance, as if asking her what he should do. She shook her head, unable to offer any suggestions. How did he expect her to know? She had no experience in dealing with runaways.
Then he turned his attention back to the children. "I should be. I should tan your hides from now 'til next week. But no, I'm not mad. Come here." Opening his arms, all three of the children crowded against him. He held them tightly, the cords in his forearms bulging with the pressure.
He looked up at her and mouthed an apology. To Emma, this man, so large and seemingly in command, suddenly seemed ... tired. Lines of fatigue played on his face. Fatigue and something else. Pain. Yes, she realized, pain. She knew what it was like to feel that deeply, that no matter what you did, you couldn't make it better. Pain seemed to be etched into his face, and she noticed that her anger had somehow turned to sympathy.
Emma's eyes filled with tears. Heavens, she shouldn't feel pity for this man. He hadn't denied sending the children away, yet it certainly didn't seem to be his choice, as Nathan had suggested.
"Children, would you do something for me?" Emma asked a few moments later. At their questioning glances, she continued. "There is a strawberry patch beside the shed. Would you like to pick some and bring them inside for me?"
