Emma's Wish

"If you don't let me help you, you may not have a family to provide for."

Emma saw the muscles in Sam's jaw tense, and she knew she'd struck a nerve. He was so proud, so independent, that admitting he was unable to look after his family without help was like rubbing salt in an open wound.

"And besides, "Emma went on, "I don't need your permission to spend my money. I can hire Jonas myself."

"You wouldn't--"

Emma's eyes narrowed. "Try me."

Their gazes held for several long seconds. She could see the frustration on his face, then the defeat. He knew she was right.

"Why?" Sam asked finally, his voice so low she could barely hear him. "They aren't even your children."

Emma felt a stab of pain so real she gasped aloud.

"Oh, damn! I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that ... Oh, hell ... I'm sorry ... I seem to always say the wrong thing ..."

"You do have a way of opening your mouth without thinking first," she replied. But now that she thought about it, she realized he hadn't meant to be cruel. He was merely pointing out the truth - that these weren't her biological children. The ache in her heart sat like lead against her breast. "As for why, it's simple. I love those children. I may not have given birth to them, but I can't imagine caring for my own child any more than I care for them."

"I know you do. And I can't think of anybody--" He paused, his gaze meeting hers -- "anybody - who is a better mother than you are."

"Do you remember the day at the train station?" Emma asked. She'd remember every moment of it for the rest of her life.

Sam nodded.

"I told you then if I had a child, I'd die before I'd allow anyone to take it away from me. That's how I feel about your children." She paused for a moment. "Our children."

Sam's eyes glistened. "Thank you," he whispered, cupping her shoulders and drawing her into his arms.

Emma stiffened, afraid of the sensations rushing through her. But she knew deep inside this wasn't a sexual advance. He merely needed comfort, someone to hold on to. Relaxing, she rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart beneath his thin cotton shirt. The scent of leather - and Sam - surrounded her, and she suddenly realized she needed him as much as he needed her.

And even more importantly, she discovered she loved him. She'd pretended her only goal was to be a good mother to his children. She'd even fooled herself into thinking a man's love wasn't important.

But she was wrong. She'd fallen in love with this man whose life was being torn from him. She'd grown to love his sense of humor, his patience, his strong moral character. Even his stubborn pride and independence. She loved him more than she'd ever thought it was possible to care for one person. Enough that she'd give everything she owned, even her life, for him.

He'd made it clear he wanted a real marriage. And, God help her, she wanted that, too. Now, for the first time in her life, she could have everything she'd dreamed of. Except that two people resting in their room in Charity's only hotel wanted to take it away from her. Because if they won, not only would she lose the children, Sam would have no reason to continue their marriage.

Tears filled her eyes and spilled over, dampening Sam's shirt. Yet he didn't move, just held her a little tighter until she stopped crying.

"It'll all work out, Emma," he whispered. "We'll make it work out. As long as you'll stand beside me, we'll do whatever it takes."

Emma nodded. "I'll be here," she murmured into his chest. "For as long as you want me."

***

The moon cast a golden glow on Emma's sleeping face. Sam tucked a stray blonde curl behind her ear.

God, she was beautiful.

Sliding into bed beside her, he rolled onto his side and waited. Within a few minutes, Emma shifted, snuggling her bottom into him. He reached around her middle and rested his palm on her stomach.

She sighed, and her hand found his.

Sam held her, needing nothing else but her warmth, her presence. All he needed tonight was to know he wasn't alone, that Emma would be there beside him to fight for his family.

What would he do if the Howards won? Even though it hadn't been so long ago that he'd planned to send his children to them, now, after seeing them again, he knew deep inside he'd never allow his children to grow up in their home.

He'd run, he decided. If the worst happened, he'd take his children and run. He'd leave everything he had behind, and disappear.