Glancing over, Emma noticed Fred and the children heading towards them, followed by the train conductor. She only had a few more seconds.
"Hey, Sam," Fred called out. "Should I get the young'uns settled on the train?"
The conductor took out a pocket watch and opened the cover. "We're leaving in one minute."
"Mr. Jenkins ...?" Emma couldn't contain her anxiety. "Please ..."
Sam seemed completely flustered. He gazed at her, then his children, Fred, and the conductor. "Oh, hell ..." he muttered.
With a deafening hiss, steam poured from beneath the train.
"What?" Fred asked above the noise. "What did you say?"
Emma's gaze froze on Sam's lips, waiting for his response. After what seemed like an eternity, he spoke. "No."
"What?"
"No. Don't put the children on the train."
Emma released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Mr. Jenkins ... does this mean ...?"
Sam gave her a crooked smile. "It means if we're going to be husband and wife, you should maybe you should start calling me Sam."
***
She'd certainly done it this time.
Once again, she'd jumped into a situation without taking the time to consider all the consequences of her actions, and now her entire life would change. How her parents would have chastised her if they'd still been here.
Emma glanced across the table in the dining room of the Charity Hotel at the man who would soon be her husband. Her stomach fluttered, and her palms were damp.
He really was handsome, she thought, watching as his eyes crinkled in laughter at something Becky said. And he'd be even more so once the lines of fatigue and the shadows beneath his eyes were gone.
A waitress began to clear some of the plates from the table.
"I could have made lunch for us at home," Emma whispered once the girl left. "It's so expensive--"
"It's a special occasion," Sam interrupted. "It'll probably be quite a spell before we do this again, so enjoy it."
Beside her, Fred grinned, then dug his fork into the last piece of steak on his plate and popped it into his mouth.
"Then thank you. It's lovely," she said with a smile as she willed her stomach to stop churning. The food at the hotel was always exquisite, and normally she would have savored every bite, but her nerves were so taut she might as well have been eating sawdust.
Joseph set his empty glass on the table. "Pa says you're goin' to be our ma," he said, picking up a napkin and scrubbing it across his mouth.
Emma smiled. "That's right."
Nathan, his fork poised with a heap of mashed potatoes balanced on it, glowered at Emma. "We don't need a new ma. We already got a ma--"
"That's enough, Nathan." The tone of Sam's voice stopped Nathan in mid-sentence.
Nathan sent a scathing glance in Emma's direction, but shoved the fork in his mouth and lowered his head.
"You gonna live at our house?" Joseph asked.
"Course she's gonna live with you," Fred put in. "If'n she's your ma, where else would she live?"
"I just wondered ..."