ThE BUCKHORN LEGACY. Lori FosterЧитать онлайн книгу.
and understanding weakened her resolve.
She would not become someone else’s burden.
Her mind made up, she put the sandwich aside. “I’d really like to just take a shower if that’s okay. I know I look a mess.”
Using his fingertips, Casey wiped away a lingering tear she hadn’t been aware of. He hesitated, but finally nodded. “All right. You can sleep in my room tonight.”
Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. Casey grinned at her, then pinched her chin. “I’ll, of course, sleep on the couch.”
Mortification washed over her for her asinine assumption. At her blush, Casey’s grin widened. She couldn’t believe the way he teased her in front of his parents.
“You could have used Morgan’s old room, except that Honey’s been painting it and everything is a mess in there.”
Morgan was his uncle, the town sheriff. Most people thought he was a big, scary guy. He was enormous, but he’d always been kind to Emma, even when he’d caught her getting into trouble, like breaking curfew or being truant from school. Newly wed, Morgan had recently moved into his own house.
“I’ll take the couch.” Emma thought that would be easier, but Casey wouldn’t hear of it.
“You’ll take the bed.”
His father and stepmother agreed with him. In the end, Emma knew she was no match for them. Exhaustion won out and she nodded. “All right.” It would be strange sleeping in Casey’s room, in his bed. A secret part of her already looked forward to it. “Thank you.”
Casey took her down the hall to the bathroom, then got her one of his large T-shirts to sleep in. She knew it was selfish, but she accepted the shirt, holding it close to her heart. It was big and soft and it held his indescribable scent. Since she couldn’t have Casey, it was the next best thing.
Their bathroom was bigger than her whole bedroom. It was clean and stylish and that damn envy threatened to get hold of her again. Emma swore to herself that someday, she’d have a house as nice as this one. Maybe not as big, but just as clean and warm and filled with happiness. Somehow, she’d make it happen.
Knowing it would take forever for it to dry, she didn’t bother washing her long hair. When her opportunity arose, she had to be ready, and she didn’t want to run away with wet hair. She did brush out all the tangles and tie it back with a rubber band. The shower did a lot to revive her and make her feel less pathetic.
After she’d dried off and donned the shirt, Emma glared at herself in the mirror, and cursed herself for being such a crybaby. Casey wouldn’t be a whiner. If something happened in his life, he’d figure out how to deal with it. He’d do what he had to.
And so would she.
With the makeup washed away, her red nose and eyes looked even worse. The bruise showed up more too. It had all been necessary, she reminded herself, but still the thought of change terrified her—just not as much as staying.
She lifted the neckline of the shirt and brushed it against her nose, breathing deeply of Casey’s scent. She closed her swollen eyes a moment to compose herself.
Everyone was waiting for her when she left the bathroom, which made her feel like a spectacle. She was used to being ignored, not drawing attention. In a lot of ways, she preferred being ignored to this coddling. They were all just so…kind.
Sawyer gave her a cool compress to put over her puffy eyes, along with two over-the-counter pills that he said would help her relax and get some sleep.
Honey fussed over her, occasionally touching her in that mothering way. She told Emma to help herself if she got hungry during the night and to let her know if she needed anything.
She’d rather die than disturb any of them further. Emma knew she could be very quiet when she needed to be; she’d learned that trick early in life. Like a wraith, she could creep in and out without making a sound. No way would she wake anyone up tonight.
Honey kissed Emma on the forehead before she and Sawyer went down the hall, leaving her alone with Casey so he could say good-night. Emma was amazed anew that they’d trust her enough to leave Casey in the room with her, especially now that they had firsthand evidence of her character. She was a liar and a user.
Then she realized it wasn’t a matter of trusting her. They trusted Casey, and with good reason.
Casey sat on the edge of the bed and looked at her. After a moment, he even smiled.
Emma remembered how many times she’d done her best to get Casey this close. That last time at his family’s picnic, she’d almost succeeded. But in the end, Casey had been too strong-willed, and too moral to get involved with her. She’d decided that night to leave him alone, and for the most part she’d stuck to that conviction. She hadn’t seen him in so long.
Now he was right next to her and she was in his bed, and she could see the awful pity in his gaze. That hurt so much, she almost couldn’t bear it. She’d make sure this was the last time he ever looked at her that way.
“Are you all right now, Em?”
“I’m fine,” she lied, confident that it would be true soon enough. “I just wish I hadn’t put your family through all this.” She wished she could have thought of another way.
Rather than reply to that, Casey smoothed his hand over her head. “I’ve never seen your hair in a ponytail.”
Her heart started thumping too hard and her breath caught. She stared down at her hands. “That’s because it looks dumb, but I figured I looked bad enough tonight that nothing could make it worse.”
As if she hadn’t intruded in the middle of the night, hadn’t dragged him into her problems, hadn’t disrupted his life, Casey chuckled. “It does not look dumb. Actually it looks kinda cute.” Then, startling her further, he leaned forward and brushed his mouth over her forehead. “I’ll be right out on the couch if you need anything, or if you just want to talk.”
Emma said nothing to that.
“Promise me, Em.” His expression was stern, with that iron determination that awed her so much in evidence. “If you need me, you’ll wake me, okay?”
“Yeah, sure.” Not in a million years.
Looking unconvinced, Casey straightened. “All right. I know it’s not easy, but try not to fret, okay? I’m sure we’ll be able to figure everything out.”
We. This family kept saying that, as if they each really wanted to help. She’d made herself his problem by using his name, but by tomorrow he wouldn’t have to worry about her ever again. “Casey? Thank you for everything.”
“I haven’t done anything, Em.”
She lifted his large, warm hand and kissed his palm. Her heart swelled with love, threatening to break. “You’re the finest person I’ve ever met.”
* * *
THE RED HAZE OF DAWN streamed through the windows when Honey shook Casey awake early the next morning. He pushed himself up on one elbow and tried to clear away the cobwebs. He’d been in the middle of a dark, intensely erotic dream. About Emma.
His father stood behind Honey and right away Casey knew something was wrong. “What is it?”
“Emma is better than me,” Honey said.
Casey frowned at that. “How so?”
“None of us heard her when she left.”
Sawyer looked grim. “There’s a note on your bed.”
Casey threw the sheet aside and bolted upright. He wore only his boxers, but didn’t give a damn. His heart threatened to punch out of his chest as he ran to his bedroom. Worry filled him, but also a strange panic.
She couldn’t really be gone.
He