He nodded, then leaned over to kiss her one more time. “One night soon,” he said when he finally drew away, “I’m not going to be leaving.”
10
EMILY TOOK TUESDAY off work. Her headache was gone—or had at least subsided to an occasional twinge—but she was still bruised and sore, and she didn’t quite feel up to facing her co-workers’ sympathy and questions. Though they seemed inclined to stay all day to fuss over her, she finally persuaded her aunt and uncle to leave sometime late in the morning, promising to call them if she needed anything at all.
Her uncle had installed a new lock on the kitchen door and repaired the damage that had been done to it by the intruders. Her aunt had cleaned the house from top to bottom, making sure everything was back in its proper place. They left reluctantly, insisting that Emily lock up securely behind them.
It was a relief to be alone again, she thought as she heard them drive away. As much as she loved her aunt and uncle, and as much as she appreciated their loving concern, their constant hovering had begun to get on her nerves.
The telephone started ringing before noon, and didn’t stop all day. It seemed that everyone in town wanted to inquire personally about Emily’s well-being, and to ask for all the juicy details. Honoria hadn’t seen so much excitement in years, she thought wryly, hanging up the phone after yet another call.
But she was surprised—and more than a little touched—that several callers had asked if there was anything they could do for her. Even Martha Godwin had wanted to know if there was anything she could bring Emily—and she apparently wasn’t talking about her dog. What a refreshing change that was!
The telephone rang again beneath her hand. With a smothered sigh, she lifted it, thinking she really should put the answering machine on for a while to give her a chance to rest her ears. “Hello?”
“I just talked to Mother. She told me what happened to you last night. Are you all right?”
Though the caller hadn’t bothered to identify herself, Emily recognized her cousin’s voice. “I’m fine, Tara. Really,” she assured the only daughter of Caleb and Bobbie McBride. “I got hit on the head, and I have a mild concussion, but there’s no permanent damage. On the whole, it could have been much worse.”
“I can’t even bear to think about what might have happened.” Tara seemed to shudder as she spoke. “Mother said you apparently interrupted the thieves before they could get away with much.”
Emily thought fleetingly of her mother’s bracelet, but she couldn’t talk about that now. Not if she wanted to keep up the stiff-upper-lip facade she’d maintained for everyone else. “We believe that’s what happened. He—or they—only took a few things they could stash in their pockets. We don’t know if one person or more were involved.”
“Dad seems to have some concerns about the new police chief. He said there were never so many break-ins before, and that no progress seems to have been made in solving them. Apparently, people in town are talking, beginning to wonder if they hired the right guy for the job.”
Emily immediately grew defensive on Wade’s behalf. “That’s hardly fair. Wade’s doing everything he can with the limited resources Honoria provides him. He’s even asked for help from the state police. He’s working long hours on these robberies, Tara, and I don’t think anyone else could do any more toward solving them than he has.”
Tara’s voice held an undercurrent of amusement when she replied. “Mother told me you wouldn’t like it if you heard what Dad had said. She said you and the police chief are...um...close friends.”
“That’s exactly what we are,” Emily replied firmly. “Friends.”
“I would certainly like to meet this Wade Davenport. Why don’t you bring him to my wedding?”
“I’m sure Wade has plans to be with his own family on Thanksgiving weekend,” Emily replied a bit stiffly.
“Mother told me he’s a widower with a son. She said he’s not too hard on the eyes, either.”
Emily abruptly changed the subject. “Speaking of your wedding, how are the plans coming along?”
Tara chuckled at the obvious ploy. “Everything’s going well. I can’t wait to see you all in a few weeks. I was serious about you bringing a guest...and, by the way, children are welcome, too, if your date happens to have one.”
“Tara, did you call to ask about my welfare or to harass me?” Emily asked in exasperation.
Tara laughed. “Both.”
“Well, I’m fine and y
ou’ve succeeded. So, if there’s nothing else...”
“Okay, I can take a hint. I have to get back to work, anyway. I’ll see you soon. And I’m really glad you’re all right, Emily. I was so scared when I heard what happened.”
Reassuring Tara again that no lasting harm had been done—no physical harm, anyway—and thanking her for her sincere concern, Emily finally hung up the phone.
It wasn’t long afterward that her cousin Savannah called, having also heard the news. The conversation was similar to the one Emily had had with Tara. Savannah, too, required several reassurances that Emily wasn’t seriously injured. And she expressed her horror that something so terrible had happened within the security of Emily’s own home. It seemed that the whole family was having to change their perception of Honoria as a safe, sheltered, secluded place that big-city crime couldn’t touch.
Savannah raved for a few minutes about her happiness with her new husband, renowned author and screenwriter Christopher Pace, and about how well her twin teenagers were adjusting to their terrific stepfather. And then she, too, mentioned that she’d heard Emily was involved with Honoria’s new chief of police.
Swallowing a groan, Emily repeated that she and Wade were just friends, that there was nothing serious between them, that she had no intention of entering into a lasting relationship with the man. Savannah didn’t seem to believe Emily’s protestations any more than Tara had.