Sam closed the barn door and crossed the yard. As he went inside and through the house to the bedroom, his gaze swept the interior. A layer of dust coated every surface. The plank floor was spattered with dried mud that Sam hadn't had time to sweep up. In the kitchen, dirty dishes littered the table, and he noticed a large red stain where Becky had spilled a jar of strawberry preserves at breakfast.
Emma has her work cut out for her in here, too, he muttered as he extinguished the lamp and closed the door. He only hoped she wouldn't take one look at the way they lived and change her mind.
Chapter 4
By the following morning, the news of the impending wedding between the widower and the spinster had spread all over town. Several passersby had already made comments and offered congratulations when Emma went out to buy milk at the mercantile. How word had spread so quickly, it was impossible to say, but Emma wasn't surprised. Nothing remained a secret in Charity for long.
It was no surprise either when Amanda burst through the kitchen door right after breakfast. She knew her friend would have plenty to say about Emma's latest folly.
"I don't know ... how you could ... do such a thing ..." Amanda sank into a chair and fanned her face until she caught her breath.
Emma punched at the bread dough she'd been kneading, then shaped it into a loaf and placed it in a buttered tin. Unfolding a clean dish towel, she covered the tin and set it aside to rise.
She couldn't explain her reasoning, certainly not to Amanda, who planned and organized and scheduled every moment of every day. All she knew was that the moment had presented itself, and she'd lost control of her mouth. The words had spilled out of their own volition, and she'd been unable to stop them.
Yet even now, she had no regrets. Somehow, marrying Sam felt right. Not exactly logical, she reasoned, yet it was a feeling so intense it almost frightened her.
Wiping her hands on a damp cloth, she crossed the room and perched on the edge of a chair opposite her friend at the table. "It's simple, Amanda," she said calmly. "He needs a wife, and his children need a mother."
"But you don't even know the man."
"I've heard only good things about him," Emma countered. "And most of them from you."
"That's not the point. I don't have to live with him. What if he's not what he seems? He could drink too much. Or beat you."
"The same could be said for any man I married. How did you know James wouldn't mistreat you after you married him?"
Amanda shrugged. "I don't know," she said softly. "I just knew. A feeling."
"And I have the same feeling about Sam. I can't explain it, but he's a good man. I know it. And it's my chance
to have a real family."
"There are a lot of men in this town who would happily give you a family if you would give them the chance."
"You know I can't."
"You mean you won't let another man get close to you after what that scoundrel ... what was his name? ..."
"Barclay."
"Yes, Barclay. After what he did to you."
"That's right. I truly believed he loved me. Yet after the accident, when he saw what had happened to me ..." Emma's voice trailed off as the pain of their last meeting surged through her once again. "I couldn't bear to see another man look at me that way--"
"A man who really loves you would love all of you, no matter how you look on the outside. He obviously didn't love you enough."
"And a man who will love me enough may never come along."
"He won't if you never give him a chance."
Emma got up and crossed to the stove. "I've made up my mind, Amanda."
"But you're giving up your entire life to raise another woman's children."
Emma nodded. "It's the closest I'll come to having what I've always wanted. In time, I hope Sam and I can become friends. That is enough for me. Now are you going to help me plan this wedding or not?"
Amanda shook her head in resignation. "Of course I'll help you, but only if you promise to visit often. I'm going to miss you so much."