Emma's Wish

As if something impelled him to look, Sam's attention shifted from the boys to the blanket where Emma and Becky were lying. As he watched, Emma leaned over and gently kissed Becky's forehead, then picked up a knitted shawl and tucked it around the little girl.

Sam felt as if a fist hit him square in the chest. God, how he loved those two females. The realization shocked him more than a dousing with ice water in July. He'd always adored Becky, but that was normal. What shocked him ... and to be honest with himself, scared the hell of out him ... was the way he felt about Emma. What the hell had happened?

He'd lusted after her. He admitted that. It was natural. Men had lusted after women since the beginning of time. But the feelings washing over him weren't only lust. They weren't simply a man's physical needs. This was more. So much more. Somehow she had crept into his heart.

He loved her. Loved her more than he'd ever thought it was possible to love a woman.

He'd loved Catherine, too. But he recognized now that what he'd felt for her wasn't real love. He'd been flattered that a woman like Catherine had wanted him. And he'd wanted her. But that was all it was. He'd never felt about Catherine the way he felt about Emma.

And it was time he told her. They'd never finished their talk the night before. He'd waited for Emma to come back down, but she'd stayed away. Eventually he'd given up and gone to bed.

Leaving the boys settled on a boulder at the water's edge, Sam made his way up the hill to Emma. She opened her eyes as his shadow fell over her.

"Have the boys caught any fish yet?" she whispered.

Sam shook his head. "They're still trying. Knowing them, we'll have to drag them home come nightfall."

Emma's lips curved in a smile. Sam's boys weren't unlike their father - stubborn.

"Looks like Becky tuckered herself out." Sam lowered himself to the blanket beside Emma. "I could use forty winks myself."

"Why don't you nap for a few minutes?" Emma offered. "I'll keep an eye on the boys."

"I'd rather talk."

Emma's heart fluttered. "About what?"

"About us."

"Sam--"

"I don't really know much about you," he went on.

Emma let out the breath she'd been holding. He didn't want to discuss their relationship after all. Strangely enough, she was a little disappointed. She didn't want to face the possibility that he wanted something more than she was capable of giving, but for a few moments she'd been flattered that he found her desirable.

But that wouldn't last. He'd learn too soon how undesirable she was, if she ever let him close enough to touch her.

"What do you want to know?" she asked quietly.

"You're a beautiful woman." He took her hand in his, his warmth sending streaks of heat up her arm to pool in her stomach.

His eyes held hers. "Why have you never married?" he asked.

Emma took so long to answer Sam thought she hadn't heard the question. He was about to ask again when she said softly, "I was engaged once."

Her response surprised Sam. He'd assumed there had never been a man in Emma's life, "So why didn't you marry him?" he asked.

Emma paused, as if she was considering how much to tell Sam about the man she'd planned to marry. She looked away, her gaze resting on the wildflowers swaying in the warm breeze. "He wasn't the man I thought he was."

He knew exactly how that felt, to be deceived by the person you loved.

"Did you love him?" he asked.

"I thought I did."

"What happened, Emma?"

Emma looked up at him, her eyes filled with pain. "It doesn't matter. It's over now."