Emma's Wish

"Joseph," she said, "you and Nathan go into the barn and start mucking out the stalls. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"But--"

"Now."

Recognizing this was not the right time to argue, the boys turned and trudged across the yard, muttering between themselves. Becky was still rocking in the chair on the porch, her thumb firmly planted in her mouth, a sure sign she was afraid.

Turning back to Winston, Emma continued. "As I said, until the law says you have a right to those children, they are staying here with Sam and me."

Winston turned to his wife, whose mouth had dropped open, apparently in shock that someone dared to stand up to her husband. "You see, Florence, I told you it was impossible to reason with these people. Sam was always trouble. I knew it the minute I saw him. I took pity on him, and look at what's happened. We should never have allowed Catherine to get mixed up with the likes of him. Now he's found someone else exactly the same type as he is."

Emma glared at him. "I take that as a compliment, Mr. Howard. Sam is the finest man I know."

Winston laughed shortly. "Hmmph! He'll never be more than a dirt farmer."

"He's a rancher, Mr. Howard. And even if he was a dirt farmer, that would be perfectly fine with me," Emma replied. "Now since we have nothing more to discuss, please go. I have a lot to do today."

"What?" he blustered, his face turning a deep shade of red. "What did you say?"

"I asked to you leave."

A gasp from the buggy drew Emma's attention. Florence Howard was fanning herself with a snowy white handkerchief. "Oh, my goodness," she exclaimed.

Winston went on. "Why ... why ... you insolent ..."

For once, the man had lost the power of speech. But he made no move to leave. Instead, he stared her down. He still thought he could intimidate her.

But that wasn't going to happen.

"Do you have any idea who you're dealing with?" he asked finally.

Emma met his gaze steadily. "Unfortunately, I know exactly the type of man I'm dealing with."

"How ... dare you speak to me like that," he sputtered.

"I also dare to warn you that in these parts, it's perfectly legal to shoot a man for trespassing. I have a rifle on the porch. And although I don't like to boast, I am a very good shot. You have exactly two minutes to turn that buggy around and head back to town."

Mrs. Howard lifted a hand to her throat. "Well, I never--"

"One minute and fifty seconds," Emma counted off.

Winston Howard stood his ground for what seemed like an eternity. It was apparent he couldn't decide what to do. Finally, his wife called him. "Come, Winston. It's no use trying to reason with these people."

Winston turned to his wife and nodded. "You're right, my dear," he said. "We'll let the law take care of them. We'll have plenty of time with the children once we're home." Then he turned to Emma. His voice was low, but the message was clear. "I don't take kindly to being threatened, madam. Opposing me is not wise. I'll see you in court."

Turning, he climbed into the buggy. Without a backward glance at Emma, they drove off.

Emma's knees were trembling, and she stood for several moments watching as the buggy disappeared behind the trees. Turning, she noticed the boys inside the barn door, watching the confrontation. How much had they heard?

Her gaze shifted to Becky, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She had dozed off in the chair, her arms still holding the doll tightly to her chest.

Her knees threatening to buckle with every step, she walked over to the boys. "You okay?" Joseph asked as she came closer. "You look kinda ... white and shaky."

Emma ruffled his hair

. "I'm fine, Joseph."

"They're mean, ain't they?" Nathan asked. "They bought us presents and stuff, but still, they don't like us so much."