“Who is Elton?” Emma asked.
“He’s Reverend and Nana Nellie’s good-for-nothing liar son,” piped up a boy, Andrew, who Emma had put to work washing dishes with Annabelle. “He promised Nana Nellie that he’d keep Sherwood House running, but then at her funeral he said he was going to close us down and ship us all off and grow tobacco in the fields. That’s so stupid. Our dirt is plumb wore out. That’s what Nana Nellie always said.”
“What happened to Elton’s plan?”
Annabelle and Andrew shared a look, then they both shrugged. “Don’t know,” the boy said. “We never saw him after Nana Nellie’s funeral.”
Annabelle made a gallant effort to change the subject. “Can you teach me how to make biscuits, Miss Emma? Mine are always heavy as a rock.”
“Sure, honey. Not to be boastful, but I make wonderful biscuits. My Aunt Claire is a baker and she taught me all her tricks.” Emma tasted the stew, then added a pinch more salt. “So, what else did your Nana Nellie have to say about Mr. MacRae?”
“She said how sorry she was that he had to leave Texas. That made her feel really bad.”
“Why did Dair have to leave Texas?”
“Because of the bank robberies.”
Emma dropped her spoon. “The what?”
“Do you want to see her collection of wanted posters?”
“Anna!” The boy gave her a shove. “You’re not supposed to tell!”
Wanted posters. Her lover was an outlaw on two continents! “Yes, please.” When Andrew started to protest, Emma added, “Don’t worry. I won’t turn him in.”
“It’s a lot of reward money,” the boy said glumly. Annabelle stuck her tongue out at him as she dried her hands on a dish towel, then exited the kitchen saying, “I’ll go get the book. I’ll be right back.”
Emma added more seasoning to the other stew pot, then took a seat at the long kitchen table. Annabelle returned quickly with a scrapbook bound with leather ties. Emma opened it and caught her breath at the drawing of a young Alasdair MacRae. “He couldn’t have been fifteen years old.”
“He was thirteen. Nana said he was tall for his age.”
Emma shook her head as she flipped through the posters. “Goodness gracious. He’s another Billy the Kid.”
“Dair never killed nobody,” Andrew corrected. “And Nana Nellie said he quit stealing as soon as he started earning money legitimately. He just couldn’t come back home ’cause he was a wanted man.”
“Hmm,” Emma said, wondering if that were true. If so, why the Highland Riever? Why had he started stealing again? “Does Elton still own Sherwood?”
The children shrugged. “We don’t know.”
Emma bet she knew. She’d bet her most comfortable pair of shoes that Dair MacRae had either purchased Sherwood or was in the process of purchasing it. So why the secrecy? His support of an orphanage was to be admired, not hidden. What reason would he have for keeping it secret? Was there a law in Texas that criminals couldn’t own property or something? She didn’t think so. “It makes no sense.”
But then, quite a few things here didn’t make sense. True, it would be difficult to supervise the orphanage from an ocean away, but she couldn’t see Dair allowing them to starve. “How long have you been without a director?”
The boy Andrew muttered a particularly ugly curse beneath his breath. Annabelle scolded him with a scowl, then said, “About six weeks. Mr. and Mrs. Teasdale replaced Miss Halloran who followed Mr. Moffett. The Teasdales weren’t here a week before they stole our money and disappeared in the middle of the night.”
That explained current conditions, Emma thought. “How have you managed since then? What have you been eating?”
“Too much squirrel stew, that’s for sure,” Andrew said. “We go hunting every day hoping for something different, but somebody must be warning the rabbits and the deer.”
Annabelle added, “You got us a wild hog…what…two weeks ago, Andrew? That was nice.”
“Didn’t last long,” he said with a sigh. “What I wouldn’t give for a big old beefsteak.”
Emma decided one way or another, she’d see that these children dined on beef before the week was out.
She mulled over all she’d learned while teaching Annabelle to make biscuits, using the last of the flour and sugar. She’d wondered from time to time just why he was so anxious to find the treasure, why he’d invented the Highland Riever. It had seemed incongruous to her, considering that she’d never seen signs in him that he coveted material things. Well, except for her necklace, that is.
But he obviously wanted the treasure for the orphans. Dair MacRae was a thief with a heart of gold. If she weren’t already in love with him, today’s revelations would have done the trick.
Once the meal was ready, Emma stepped aside and allowed the children to implement the system in place for feeding such a crowd. It was a boisterous event, the prospect of full stomachs putting everyone in a good mood. Oh, there were the normal mealtime squabbles and a few battles over biscuits, but those only served to remind Emma of supper at Willow Hill. Just a little bigger.
They’d made a family, she discovered. A family of orphans who’d been orphaned twice. First from their birth families, and then with the loss of their beloved Reverend and Nana Nellie.
It broke one’s heart to think about.
Dair returned with a wagon overflowing with supplies while the supper dishes were being tended to. Though he laughed and joked with the children while unloading the foodstuffs, Emma could tell he was furious. After passing out fried pies and peppermints to every child, he looked at Emma. “I need to make a tour of the place. Care to come with me?”
“Sure.”
“Take me, too!” little Genny said.
“Not this time, doodlebug.” Dair gave her nose an affectionate pinch. “I have an important job for you and the other children.”
“More work!” she whined.
“Yep. Tomorrow is Miss Emma’s birthday and I need y’all to plan the party.”
Emma’s heart warmed at his gesture. The little girl’s eyes rounded. “A birthday party? Are we gonna have cake?”
“Yep. I bought two chocolate cakes and one white one. You think that will be enough?”
“Cake and fried pies in the same week.” Genny clapped her hands together, hopped up and down, and squealed. The other youngsters chimed in with party questions and suggestions, and Dair told them to organize their thoughts and requests and write them down.
He held a hand out to Emma. “Coming?”
Emma took his hand, grabbed her hat, and followed him out into the warm evening air. He didn’t speak as he led her toward the forest and Emma was content to allow the silence to hold. A birthday party. Months ago, her mother had suggested the McBrides throw a big party to celebrate her thirtieth. Unable to see any reason to celebrate the occasion, Emma had flatly refused.
Now, she was excited by the idea. She felt as giddy as little Genny, all because the notion had come from Dair. Bank robber, jewel thief and birthday party planner. She wondered if he bought her a present.
The sun hung just above the treetops as he led her into the forest. Despite the aging of the day, the heat remained brutal, the humidity so high one could almost drink the pine-scented air. During her travels she’d encountered all kinds of weather, but none quite so uncomfortable as summertime in Texas. Still, it was great to be home.
Somewhere above her hidden by the branches of a hickory, a dove cooed. Chattering squirrels scampered from loblolly to the shortleaf to longleaf pines, and off to her right, she caught sight of a white-tailed doe just before she sprang away.
A dozen different questions hovered on Emma’s tongue, but she decided to wait until Dair broke the silence between them. The man obviously had a lot on his mind, and judging by the set of his jaw, not all of it was pleasant.
They walked through the forest for at least five minutes before he spoke. “I was the first orphan the Reverend and Nellie took in, but within six months three other boys had come to stay. They were all a couple years younger than me, but despite the age difference, we bonded like brothers. We’d been here a year when Nellie announced a surprise pregnancy—she and the reverend had been married a dozen years—they thought she was barren. We spoiled Elton when he was small. All of us did. Then his daddy died when he was just a squirt and without a father around to guide him…well…that’s when things started going downhill. He was jealous of us. Me and my brothers. Hated us, in fact. Didn’t like it that the reverend and Nana Nellie had shared their love with mongrel whelps. He didn’t like it that we’d had his daddy’s love longer than he had. He especially didn’t like it that money was tight because his parents had continued to take in children. He hid his meanness from his mama, but the rest of us knew it.” He paused, reflected. “He made sure we knew it.”
“The children told me he inherited Sherwood House.”
“Yeah. Lying bastard. But I…um…kept a long-distance eye on things around here, and I made a deal with him. He sold the place to me at an inflated price with ridiculous terms.” He gave a pinecone lying on the path a violent kick. “Lot of good it did the kids, though. I damned near starved them to death.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Dair. They told me their caretakers robbed and deserted them. I am curious, though. Is this all on your shoulders? Is there no one else to help? What about these brothers of yours?” Had she not been watching him closely, she wouldn’t have seen the way he momentarily stiffened.
“They’re busy men. Important men. Holt Driscoll is a Texas Ranger. Cade Hollister is a former Pinkerton man who’s gone out on his own. He hunts missing children. Logan Grey is a range detective for Waggoner Land and Cattle Company. They’re busy men. Important men with important jobs. They’re damn fine men, Emma. I thought the Teasdales—the interim caretakers I hired—would be here until September, so I didn’t want to involve the others.” He let out a sigh. “Poor judgement on my part. I knew better than to hire sight unseen.”
“What’s happening in September?”
This time when he stiffened, he didn’t relax. “I need to talk to you about that, Emma.”
She waited expectantly, but he didn’t elaborate.
Moments later, she heard the burble of running water and the forest path broke onto the bank of a creek just where it widened to form a placid pool. Dair immediately began shucking his clothes. “It’s hot. Let’s go swimming. Johnny said he’d keep the kids away from here. I gave him a big bag of licorice to pass out.”
“They’ll all have stomachaches,” Emma said absently as she watched the dappled sunlight play across his muscular chest.
When he’d stripped naked, he turned to her. “Swim with me, Texas.”
“I thought we were going to talk.”
“We will. Later.” He tugged the ties on her bonnet. “Much later. We need to cool off first.”
“I certainly am…hot.”
Seeing that he had her cooperation, Dair stepped away from her and made a flat dive into the water. She watched him as she undressed, his strong strokes cutting through the water, swimming hard, as if some unseen predator chased him through the water nipping at his heels.
Emma didn’t really mind a few moments to herself. He’d given her a lot to think about. Stripping down to nothing but her chemise, she stepped into the cool, inviting water. As memories of frolicking at the “swim hole” with her sisters fluttered through her mind, she again experienced the lovely sensation of coming home. Emma smiled.
They swam until the fireflies appeared, twinkling in the deepening evening light. Dair exited the water first, then walked over to a large wooden trunk she hadn’t noticed before. There, he removed towels and big fluffy quilt which he spread beneath the spreading boughs of an old oak tree.
He used the towel, then sat on the quilt, his back against the tree trunk. He watched her with steady eyes that glittered in the night, a lean, sleek, strong animal. “Emma, come to me.”
Emma considered staying put to tease him, but no, the time for that was past. She rose from the water, stripping off her chemise and tossing it aside. Wet, naked and highly aroused, she approached him. Wordlessly, he tossed her a towel.
Emma dried herself, her movements slow, sensuous and provocative. Heat leapt in his eyes. She kept her gaze locked with his as raw need gleamed in those silver depths along with another emotion she could not put a name to.
“You need me,” she said as she straddled his legs.
“Oh, yeah.”
He meant physically, she knew, whereas she referred to emotions.
He’s vulnerable. That’s what I see. He’s afraid to believe in miracles. He’s afraid to need me beyond the physical….
That tiny crack in Dair’s facade made Emma love him all the more. It felt so good to be needed in ways only a man could provide. So right. So overdue. For so long, Emma had believed that dream was lost to her.
“I still believe in dreams, Dair.”
“Me, too. You’re a dream. My dream.”
Emma couldn’t help but smile as Dair’s lips teased the sensitive skin beneath her ear. “I believe in dreams, in fate, and in fairy tales. Every woman does, deep down. Every woman wants a prince to come riding up on a white horse to save them.”
“That’s silly.”
“No, it’s not. It’s real for me, Dair. You’re my prince. You saved me, not from an evil queen or a dastardly villain, but simply from myself.”
“Ah, Emma. You didn’t need saving. You’re the strongest woman I know.”
She placed a finger on his lips. “You broke through the melancholy encasing my heart, and in doing so, gave me back life’s greatest joy. I can love again.”
He stared deeply into her eyes as he kissed her fingertip, and Emma knew that she could give herself to this man. She could give him not only her body, but her soul, her mind. Her heart. This was what dreams were made of.
Allowing the emotions to pull her into the moment, Emma pulled her hand away, then covered his lips with her own.
Dair murmured something appreciative against her mouth and cradled her face with his hands as they kissed for what seemed like an eternity. Breaking away, he grazed his lips over Emma’s flushed cheeks, chin and eyelids.
“I believe,” she whispered.
“In?” Dair kissed the tip of her nose.
“Dreams. Miracles. Us.”