Emma's Wish

Prologue

Texas, 1880

"Please don't send us away, Pa." Six-year-old Nathan tugged on the rolled up sleeve of his father's shirt. "We'll be good. We promise. Don't we, Joseph?"

Beside him, his older brother nodded vigorously, then scrubbed at his tear-stained eyes with his grimy knuckles.

Studying the two boys, Becky's head bobbed in agreement, setting her pale blonde curls bouncing. She was too young to understand the significance of what Sam had just told them, but whatever her brothers did, Becky followed suit, as much as any three-year-old could.

Sam Jenkins raked his fingers through his hair. God, if there was any other way ... But there wasn't. It was the right thing to do. He'd done his best to look after the children and the ranch, if it could be called that - but it wasn't good enough. He was failing at both, and now he had to muster up the courage to do what was best for them, no matter how painful it was. Seeing the children lined up in front of him, looking at him as if he was some kind of monster, just about tore his heart out.

Leaning over, he picked Becky up and settled her on his lap. Her pudgy arms reached up around his neck, and she planted a loud smacking kiss on his cheek.

Swallowing painfully against the grief choking him, he took Nathan's small hand. His gaze rested on the calluses on the little boy's palm. Dammit, his hands shouldn't already show signs of hard labor. Youngsters shouldn't have to work that hard.

This was exactly why he'd made the decision, the decision the children hated him for right now. But they'd thank him later. He had to believe that.

He was doing this for their own good. Sam had to remind himself of that every single day. By sending them back east to live with his wife's parents, he was giving them the life they deserved, a life of privilege and wealth. But even though his reasons made sense, he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that he was making a huge mistake.

"It's just for a little while." He tried to sound convincing, but the promise rang false even to his own ears. "Right now, I need to work too hard--"

"We can help," Joseph volunteered. "I'm almost a man. You said so yourself when Ma died."

When Ma died. That said it all. Their lives had fallen apart when Catherine died six months before. The children had lost their mother, and he'd lost the only woman he'd ever loved.

"I did say that, didn't I?" he asked, ruffling the boy's hair. "And I meant it, too."

Catherine had always called Joseph her little man, and a melancholy smile twitched at Sam's lips at the recollection. He'd called him that, too, as Joseph had stood beside him at the cemetery when they laid Catherine to rest. Joseph had stood in the rain, his head held high, determined not to cry even though his eyes brimmed with tears and his chin quivered throughout the short service.

"I can work--" Joseph put in.

"Me too--"

"Me work--" Becky smiled up at him, the dimples in her cheeks and the clear blue gaze in her eyes bringing back the image of Catherine's angelic face.

God, couldn't they see how badly he wanted to keep them with him? They were all he had left, and sending them away was slowly killing him. But they had no way of knowing that. They only knew they were being sent to live with people they'd never met, in a place they'd never seen.

"Joseph," he said, trying to make his tone as stern as possible. "I can't keep you here right now. Your grandparents are looking forward to seeing you. So I need you to be a man now and promise me you'll take care of the younger ones. That's the way it has to be."

Joseph sniffled. His voice cracked when he replied. "Yes, Pa."

"Nathan?"

Nathan wiped his face again, and hiccuped. "Yes, Pa?"

"I want you to listen to Joseph. You do what you're told and stay out of trouble." Like asking the seasons not to change, he thought wryly.

"Yes, Pa."

"Now you two go and finish your chores while I fix us supper."

Both boys hesitated for a moment, then turned and shuffled out.

Sam watched the boys cross the yard and disappear into the barn. Feeling something tugging on his sleeve, he turned his attention to the little girl in his lap.

"What am I going to do without you?" Sam nuzzled Becky's neck until she giggled, that sweet sound he'd have to remember during the lonely nights to come. How he'd miss her dimples, and the way she'd look up at him with her head cocked to one side and that same quizzical expression Catherine used to give him when she was confused about something.

Best not to dwell on what can't be helped. Getting to his feet, he settled Becky back on the chair.