“Emma,” he tried, his tone conciliatory.
“Shut up!” She grabbed a delicate porcelain flower vase off a table and sent it sailing at his head. Dair ducked and the vase smashed against the wall, then fell to the floor in shattered pieces. “Don’t you dare patronize me! This is all your fault.”
“Emma, I—”
“You made me believe, Dair. I started believing again. In dreams and miracles and fairy tales. In happy ever after. Now you won’t even try. You’re giving up on us. You won’t even consider trying to make my dreams come true.”
“Texas, don’t do this,” he begged. “I can’t let them cut open my head. I won’t risk being a burden to you.”
“So you’ll just roll over and die?” Tears streamed down Emma’s face. “Well, you can manage that without me.”
Fear clawed at the pieces of his heart. “What are you saying?”
“I can’t do this, Dair. I barely survived Casey. I won’t survive you.”
Dair was at a loss. He didn’t know what to say, how to act. Finally relying on his instincts, he went to her and attempted to take her into his arms, but she wrenched herself away. “Don’t
touch
me. Don’t speak to me. Don’t even look at me. Oh, God, I can’t bear to look at you.”
She buried her head in her hands and wept from the depths of her soul.
Dair stood still as a statue, though inside, his pulse pounded and his heart twisted. He’d done this to her. He’d taken this beautiful, vivacious, adventure-loving woman and left her raw and bleeding. The final tiny spark of hope he’d harbored for the salvation of his soul flickered out.
“Go,” she sobbed. “Get out. Leave here. Leave me.”
She lifted her head, met his gaze with blue eyes gone red with tears. “You have to go, Dair MacRae. I cannot, I will not, watch you die.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
D
AIR TURNED WITHOUT A
word to her, opened the drawing room doors, and stepped out into the entry hall. Emma watched him walk silently past her sisters, her parents, and even her brother, Billy. Slumped against the opposite wall, Logan straightened, nodded toward Emma, then followed his friend outside.
Emma turned away. She wouldn’t watch him walk away from Willow Hill, walk away from her. She had to protect herself.
That particular job got more difficult when Kat and Maribeth marched into the room. “Emma!” Kat glared at her. “You can’t do this. He loves you.”
“Not enough,” came her flat reply.
Mari, by nature more patient than her younger sister, handed Emma a handkerchief. “Dry your eyes, Em. You’re looking rather wilted.”
Wilted. Wrung out. Down-to-the-soul weary. Tears welled up inside her again and she made a valiant, though ultimately unsuccessful, effort to hold them back. She sank onto the sofa and let go. She cried out her heartache, sobbed out her pain, wept for all her hopes and dreams and desires now dashed by the cruel mistress fate and the intractable stubbornness of a man.
She sensed her sisters taking seats on either side of her. She felt the comfort of their embrace. Emma cried hard, as hard as she’d cried when Susie was killed. Finally though, the waterworks dried up leaving her exhausted, sad and hopeless.
Mari gave her sister a hard hug, then asked, “So, are you done? Ready to talk?”
“What is there to talk about?”
“Quite a lot,” Kat replied. “Beginning with how phenomenally foolish you’re being.”
Temper flared. “I’m foolish because the man I love is dying and I find that upsetting?”
“Foolish because you believe he’s dying.”
“He has a tumor in his brain!”
“Alasdair MacRae is not going to die. He’s the final piece. He’s the last person we needed to break the Curse of Clan McBride. The two of you are already in love. All you have to do is prove that it is powerful, vigilant and true and accomplish your task, and the bad luck will be done. Forever.”
“Oh, Kat, just let it go.” Emma grimaced with disgust. “I was there. I heard Dr. Daggett. This isn’t a fairy tale, it is real life. Dair has made up his mind and I can’t change it.”
“Why not? You love him, don’t you?” Kat folded her arms. “I made Jake realize what was important to him, what really mattered. Me. And the children. Why can’t you do that? Make yourself matter.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Well, it should be. You should fight for him. Convince him. You can do it. You
have
to do it. Otherwise, you’ll be letting down not just yourself, but all of us. Billy and Bobby and Tommy. Mari’s little Drew and Madeline and the twins. Now, I’m not sure if the curse carries to adoptive children, so I don’t know if the children I already have will pay, but the one I’m carrying now certainly will.”
“You’re pregnant?” Emma and Maribeth asked simultaneously.
“Yes.” Kat’s smile was smug, though the look in her eyes was bittersweet and perhaps a bit fearful as they all spent a moment remembering the child Kat lost, sweet little angel Susie.
“That’s wonderful,” Mari said, giving her sister a hug.
“I’m so happy for you,” Emma told Kat, echoing Mari’s sentiments. It was true. She was happy for Kat and if her heart twisted a bit in envy, well, she’d simply ignore it.
“Then be a good aunt and don’t ruin my child’s future happiness.”
“Stop it. Just stop it,” Emma demanded. Anger bristled in her tone. “I won’t listen to that for the next twenty-five years, Kat Kimball. Nothing in this family ever changes. Does no one in this family ever consider my happiness? Doesn’t anyone ever think that maybe I’d give anything if you were right, if happiness was there for my taking?”
“Emma…”
“No! But I have to be realistic. The man I love is going to die soon. I have to recognize that fate has dealt me another cruel blow and do my best to live with it. That is the only task I have before me.”
“You’re wrong, Emma,” Mari said, reaching out and taking Emma’s hands in hers. “Living through grief is not your task. Your task is letting go of it.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do! I’m letting go of my dreams and my desires. I’m letting go of Dair.”
“Dair isn’t the problem, honey. Casey is.”
Emma jerked away from Mari, turned away and rubbed her temples. “I’ve let go of Casey. I’ve fallen in love with another man, for goodness’ sake.”
“Listen to me.” Never one to give up, Mari took her hand again. “Do you remember what Roslin of Strathardle said about our tasks?”
“She said we had to accomplish a task of great personal import.”
“Yes, and she also said our tasks would be revealed at the proper time. After the Spring Palace fire when I discovered Kat might still be alive, I thought my task was to find her.”
“I remember that,” Emma said.
“Do you remember my wedding?”
Kat sniffed and interrupted. “How could anyone forget your wedding, Mari? I still have nightmares about quacking ducks.”
Mari ignored Kat, focusing on Emma. “You stood next to me. You heard Luke and me take our vows. Do you remember what he said?”
“I recall him saying he was the luckiest man alive.” Tears stung Emma’s eyes and she tried to blink them away.
Mari smiled tenderly at the memory, then continued, “He told me he was proud to be marrying a McBride Menace, that Menaces are strong, loyal, courageous, and that when we love, we do it with every fiber of our being.”
Kat nodded. “I always knew Luke was smart.”
“It made me want to cry,” Mari continued. “To see myself through his eyes that way. I told him that when it came to being a Menace, I saw only the mischief, the trouble-making, and the bad reputation.”
“You always were too worried about your reputation.”
“With scandalous sisters like you two, somebody needed to worry.” Mari took a seat on the sofa and tugged Emma down beside her. “Nevertheless, as I stood at the altar and made my wedding vows, my task was revealed to me by the man I was marrying. Luke said, ‘You just had to find yourself, sugar. That’s a difficult task for all of us.’ That’s when I saw it, Emma. I had to accept who I was to be able to give myself wholly to the man I loved. That was my task—to find myself. Once I did that, I was able to give myself to a love that was powerful, vigilant and true.”
“I was wrong about my task, too,” Kat confessed, finding a seat on the other side of Emma. “Though I only figured it out a couple of days ago. I wasn’t free to love Jake wholly and completely until I forgave myself. I had to forgive myself for Rory, for Susie, for the pain and anguish I put our family through when they thought I was dead. I had to forgive myself in order to trust in my own emotions, to trust in the strength of the love Jake and I share, and not be afraid. That was my task, Emma, though I was blind to it for so long. Once I forgave myself for my past, I was able to embrace the future—Jake, and our family, and a love that is strong enough to prove the claim of Ariel.”
“I’m glad you figured it out,” Emma said. “I’m happy for both of you. Honestly, I am. But the fact you found your powerful and true loves and accomplished your tasks has nothing to do with me. The man I love is dying.”
Mari squeezed her sister’s hand. “Does that mean you can’t love him? That he can’t love you? That you can’t share a love that is powerful, vigilant and true if only for a little while? Em, I can’t help but believe that you’re making a mistake. Instead of driving Dair away, you should be holding him close and making the most of the time you have.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“I’s not easy. It’s terrible. It’s unfair and horrible and I hate it for you.” Tears pooled in Mari’s eyes and she blinked them back. “But as God is my witness, if Luke Garrett told me that he had a brain tumor, I damn sure wouldn’t send him away because of my own selfishness.”
“I’m not being selfish! He is. But you wouldn’t understand that, would you, Mari? Because Luke would have the operation. He wouldn’t wait around to die.”
“Oh, you think so?” Mari scoffed. “Honey, Luke Garrett would be shaking in his boots at the idea for the same reasons Dair is. Getting him to do it would be a battle from beginning to end.”
“Jake would put up a fuss, too,” Kat added. “Think about it, Emma. Try to see his point of view. He doesn’t want to end up a burden—”
“Shut up! If I hear that word one more time I swear I’m going to blow like a whiskey still.”
Mari hardened her tone. “He’s alive now. Savor that, Emma. For however long it lasts. You know, it might just be enough to break the curse. I don’t recall Roslin saying anything about the longevity of our loves.”
Emma reared back. “But we always…none of us…when Casey died we all thought that was the end of the whole curse business. If it doesn’t matter how long a love lasts, then my marriage to Casey fulfilled the requirements and the curse is already broken.”
Maribeth shrugged. “Emma, I loved Casey. Kat did, too. You know that. He was a wonderful man and he left this earth way too early. But the fact is we don’t know that your love was powerful, vigilant and true. Your love was never tested. You never had obstacles to overcome.”
“Death is a rather difficult obstacle to overcome.”
“Maybe you’ll manage it this time. Maybe God will grant Dair a miracle. Maybe the miracle is you being in his life to convince him that he has a reason to live. If you give up on him now, you’ll never know, will you?”
“You don’t understand, Mari.”
“I understand, Emma,” Kat said. “I understand grief. The loss of a child, the loss of a spouse—what could possibly be worse? You know how horribly it hurts and how you want to avoid the pain at all costs. But we’re not cowards, by God. We are strong women. Courageous women. We are the McBride Menaces. Grief is a heavy burden to bear, Emma, but you can do it if you have to. Take that lesson from your past and use it to free yourself of your fear.”
“That’s your task, Emma.” Mari gave her sister a quick, hard hug, then stared her straight in the eyes. “You have to conquer your fears by risking the pain of your past. I found myself. Kat forgave herself, and now, Emma, it’s time for you to free yourself.”
“How? If I can somehow summon up the strength to try, how do I go about it? He’s dying. He’s leaving me. How do I find the strength to just stand by and watch?”
“You won’t be doing it alone, that’s for sure. We’ll be there for you, sister.” Now it was Kat’s turn for a hug. “We’ll be there
with
you.”
She smiled mischievously and added, “What do you say, sisters? How about we all go treasure hunting?”
L
ATER
, D
AIR COULDN
’
T REMEMBER
leaving Willow Hill. Logan told him he walked right out the door and kept on walking—along sidewalks, up and down streets, right into traffic. Logan said he had to yank him out of the way of a freight wagon barreling down toward him on Throckmorton Street. After that, Logan took charge of the direction they headed and as a result, they ended up at a saloon in Fort Worth’s Hell’s Half Acre.
“Trace McBride used to own this place,” Logan told him as they pushed through the saloon’s swinging doors. “Unlike a lot of joints in the Acre, this saloon never watered its whiskey.”
Moments later, Dair lifted his glass in salute and spoke his first words since leaving Willow Hill. “Selling good whiskey was the least Trace McBride could do considering that his daughters surely drove half the town to drink.”
“I can drink to that,” Jake Kimball said as he sauntered into the bar.
“Me, too,” Luke Garrett agreed, waving to some old friends before snagging a bottle and glasses to join Dair and Logan at their table.
“I hope you’re drinking a toast to your good luck in brides,” Trace McBride groused as he straddled a chair next to Logan. “Not a one of you are good enough for my girls, you know.”
“Yessir, we do.” Luke winked at Jake. “In case we were inclined to forget, you remind us of it regular enough.”
Dair banged his head on the table. “Just leave me alone.”
“I can’t do that,” Trace said. “You made my Emma cry. Emma never cries.”
Dair slowly lifted his head and met the older man’s gaze head on. “So shoot me.”
Logan shifted in his chair. “Now wait a minute.”
Jake topped off his drink and murmured, “Don’t worry. Leave it be, Grey.”