The calamity Janes (19 page)

Ford nodded.

And without another word to any of them, he got up and walked away. Emma had seen how shaken he was. She prayed that would somehow come across in whatever he chose to print.

Over the next couple of days she watched as Ford visibly waged a war with himself and the values he
held so dear. He was so alone. He sat by himself in Stella’s, refusing all offers of company, including Emma’s. The isolation was so uncharacteristic that Emma began to worry. If Ford wouldn’t turn to her,
couldn’t
turn to her, surely there was someone he could talk to. She went to Ryan.

“I think you need to spend a little time with Ford. He won’t talk to me. I’m pretty sure he thinks it would be wrong under the circumstances, but he’s obviously upset. He needs a friend.”

“Would I really be any better?” Ryan asked. “He knows where I stand on this.”

“Try, please,” she pleaded.

Ryan patted her hand. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

“No, I…” Her voice trailed off.

“Emma,” Ryan chided. “Be honest with me. You and I go back too far for you to lie to my face and get away with it.”

She swallowed hard and forced herself to say aloud what she hadn’t even permitted herself to think. “Yes,” she said softly. “I love him. I don’t know how it happened, or why, of all the people in the world, he had to be the one, but he is. I’m just so afraid that we won’t survive this.”

“Want some advice from an old friend?”

She grinned. “As if you’re an expert.”

“Maybe not an expert, but I’ve waited a very long time for the woman I love to take a second look at me. In all this time, my love for Sue Ellen has never wavered, not once. That should tell you something.”

“That you’re a masochist?” Emma asked, only partly in jest.

Ryan frowned at her. “You know better,” he chided.
“It proves just how powerful love is. It doesn’t bend or break so easily. It’s something that just is, something so strong that nothing can destroy it unless you permit it to.”

“Ryan, you’re a romantic,” she said with some surprise.

He shrugged. “What can I say? I had a good example. You know any couple in town more solid than my parents? They were childhood sweethearts, and I still catch them making out when they think I’m not around. They’ve taken some tough knocks over the years—my dad losing his job, my mom’s miscarriages, my sister’s pregnancy with Teddy—but they’ve survived because they both believe with everything in them that they’re better together than they would be apart. That’s the way I feel about Sue Ellen. I just pray when this is all over, she’ll let herself feel the same way about me.”

“She counts on you,” Emma said. “I can see it in her eyes and in the way she turns to you. There’s a whole lot of respect there.”

“Respect, yes,” Ryan confirmed. “But how does a woman who’s gone through what she’s gone through ever believe in love?”

Emma thought about the faint flicker of hope she’d seen in Sue Ellen’s gaze when she was with Ryan. “Give her time. She’ll get there,” she said with conviction.

And if Sue Ellen with her tragic past could make such a tremendous leap of faith, then how could Emma not be just as strong when it came to Ford?

She gave Ryan a hug. “Thank you.”

“It’s going to be good to have you home again,” Ryan said.

Startled, Emma simply stared. “Home again?”

“When you and Ford get together,” he said.

“But…” The protest died on her lips, when she realized that a part of her was ready for just such a move. It had been happening slowly but surely for weeks now.

With school about to start, now would be the perfect time to make the decision final. Caitlyn would be ecstatic. Matt and Martha would have her place in Denver to themselves to get their marriage back on track. And she and Ford would have time to explore their feelings without distance separating them.

Ryan was grinning at her stunned silence. “You’re going to do it, aren’t you? You’re going to move home?”

She nodded slowly, her own smile spreading as she accepted the decision she’d been avoiding for far too long. “Yes, I am.”

“I knew it,” he gloated.

“Oh, go suck an egg.”

He wrapped her in a fierce hug and spun her around. “Now that I know you’re staying,” he said, “I think I’ll go tell Ford the good news.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one to tell him?”

“He’s not talking to you right now,” Ryan reminded her. “And I think this news will definitely cheer him up.”

“Just don’t make too much of it. I’m not moving back because of him.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I’m not,” she protested, then sighed at Ryan’s knowing expression. “Not entirely, anyway.”

He chuckled. “Like I said, this is definitely going to improve his mood.”

A good thing, Emma supposed, because her own mood was turning decidedly sour as she contemplated all the gloating that was going to go on among her friends and family.

F
ord had been struggling to find the right words for days now. He stared at a blank computer screen, then listened to his tape of the interview with Sue Ellen. Each time he heard the stark portrayal of her married life, it sickened him. He’d known all of the statistics about domestic violence, had even read other articles in other papers about tragedies, but this was someone he knew. It made it real and far more devastating than he’d ever imagined when he’d made his sanctimonious declarations about what Sue Ellen had been driven to do.

To his astonishment, more than once as they’d talked Sue Ellen had actually defended that creep of a husband. As she had told her story, Ford had begun to see the psychological damage that years of abuse had wrought. He wondered if Ryan had any idea how difficult it would be for Sue Ellen ever to have a normal
relationship, to believe in the possibility of a loving marriage?

He had to write the story. For hours on end Ford debated where to begin. How could he describe Sue Ellen’s marriage as bravely as she had? There had been no self-pity in her words, and he was not entirely sure that was a good sign. If ever anyone had a right to feel sorry for herself, it was Sue Ellen. But how could he, the outsider, allow pity to creep into the article, when she had none to spare for herself?

Had that been Emma’s dilemma? Had she feared that Sue Ellen’s refusal to cut herself the slightest break would somehow make her less sympathetic to both Ford and, ultimately, a jury? In the few days since the interview he’d understood Emma’s torment over permitting this interview more clearly than ever before.

He wanted desperately to do justice to all sides of the story, but even he—as hard-nosed as he’d been for weeks now—felt his sympathy shifting toward Sue Ellen.

He wrote a sentence, then a paragraph, then deleted it all with a muttered curse. He was tempted to throw the damned computer across the office. Instead, he stood up, kicked a trash can halfway across the room and began to pace.

“I recommend a drink,” Ryan said, coming through the door just in time to catch the display of temper and dodge the flying trash can.

“If I thought it would solve anything, I’d drink an entire bottle of Scotch,” Ford said with feeling.

“Let’s start with just one drink. I’m buying. We’ll go to the Heartbreak, listen to a little music and chill.”

Ford regarded his friend gravely. “You can do that
after what you heard the other day? Didn’t you want to punch someone?”

“Who? Donny’s dead. Besides, it’s not like it was the first time I’d heard it,” Ryan said tightly. “Every time, it makes me want to break things. Do you know how many calls I responded to at their house? How many times I was forced to walk away because Sue Ellen wouldn’t press charges? For a long time what I most wanted to break was Donny Carter’s face—and maybe his father’s—for teaching him by example that it was okay to treat a woman that way. I tried to make him get help, but he thought it was just a way to get him out of the picture, so I could take Sue Ellen away from him. It was so blasted frustrating that I wanted to hit him myself.”

“But you resisted the urge,” Ford concluded. “How?”

“By doing exactly what I’m recommending to you, going to the Heartbreak and having a drink. Just one. More, and all that celebrated self-control of mine would have gone out the window and I’d be the one in jail now.” He sighed, his expression soul-deep weary. “Maybe that would have been better.”

“You can’t believe that,” Ford chided. He turned off the computer. “Let’s go, though if I’m going to get this story done tonight, I’d better stick to soda.”

Ryan gave him a slap on the back as they left the building. “I have some news that might put you in a better frame of mind,” he said, mustering a faint smile.

“Oh?”

“Not till I get that drink, and trust me, mine won’t be soda.”

When Ryan finally had his beer and Ford was sip
ping on a cola, he studied the sheriff’s somber expression. “I thought you said you had good news.”

“For you,” Ryan said. “And all of Winding River, for that matter.”

“Oh?”

“Emma’s staying.”

Ford felt his pulse take a leap. “She’s staying?” he said cautiously. “How long?”

“For good.”

“When did this happen?”

“We were talking earlier. I tossed out the suggestion, she protested automatically, then caught herself. She finally realized that it’s what she’s wanted all along. She just didn’t have the nerve to take that last leap.”

“And you talked her into it,” Ford said, feeling vaguely disgruntled that it had been Ryan, not he, who’d accomplished the impossible.

“I just got her to say it out loud. You, my man, laid all the groundwork. Not that she admitted it, but it’s plain to me that she’s crazy about you. And Caitlyn’s happy here. Her family is here. All in all, I think it was a foregone conclusion from the minute Emma came home for the reunion, especially with her friends moving back here one by one.” He studied Ryan. “You don’t look especially ecstatic about the news.”

“Believe me, I am,” Ford said. “I wasn’t looking forward to having to chase her to Denver again. And I really wasn’t happy about the prospect of commuting on a regular basis. Still…” He sighed.

“You think this article about Sue Ellen could still ruin your chances,” Ryan guessed.

Ford nodded. “It’s a real possibility.”

Ryan shook his head. “I’ll tell you what I told her.
Love can survive anything if two people want it to. Otherwise even the tiniest obstacles can become insurmountable.”

“This isn’t just some little bump in the road. She’s testing me. And I might not like it, but I understand where she’s coming from.”

“Okay, she’s testing you. So what? Are you an objective reporter?” Ryan challenged.

“Of course.”

“And an honorable one?”

“I like to think so.”

“Then you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Even though I’m more sympathetic than I was, I can’t give Sue Ellen a free pass,” Ford said.

“No one expects that,” Ryan insisted.

“Are you sure? I think Emma’s hoping for exactly that.”

“Well, hell, when it comes right down to it, so am I,” Ryan said. “But we both know you’ll do what’s right, even if we disagree with some of what you print. Unless you give Kate free rein and cut out Sue Ellen’s side of things, I’m not going to beat you up over it, and Emma won’t hate you.”

Ford sighed. “I wish I were as confident of that as you seem to be.” But then he was the only one who knew just how badly Emma had been burned by another reporter and by a man she had once loved.

Because he’d been deliberately avoiding her, not until she saw the story in the paper would Emma know how Ford was going to resolve his own internal conflicts. She hadn’t tried to contact him, hadn’t wanted to risk the accusation that she was trying to use their personal relationship to influence him. Beyond telling
her not to worry, Ryan had said nothing after the night she’d sent him to talk to Ford.

As a result of all this discretion and silence, she had lived in torment the past few days waiting for the paper to hit the stands. Now that it had, she was almost afraid to read it. It lay on the table in front of her, the headline and front page story facedown.

“Go on,” Cassie said, pouring her a cup of coffee. “Read it.”

Her gaze flew up. “You’ve read it?”

“Every word.”

“And?”

“I think you’re going to be pleased. Ford did a fantastic job,” Cassie reassured her. “I don’t think anyone could read it and not understand the hell that Sue Ellen went through every single day of her life. Even Kate’s comments help Sue Ellen’s case, though I doubt that was what Kate intended when she went to see Ford.”

Emma drew in a deep breath and picked up the paper. Heart in her throat, she began to read.

The article was stark, its recitation of facts grim, its accompanying editorial far more compassionate than even Emma had dared hope.

The love that had been building inside her for weeks deepened as it was joined by respect and an understanding of what it had taken for Ford to admit that he’d been wrong, that he’d judged too harshly without taking a moment to walk in Sue Ellen’s shoes. He was generous in his sympathy for Kate’s loss of a son, who’d tried as a child to protect her but in the end had learned his father’s worst traits.

There were tears in her eyes by the time she had finished the last word. It was ironic that she was in the same booth at the diner where she had first seen that
damning photograph in the Cheyenne paper all those weeks ago. Her feelings for Ford now were the polar opposite of what she had felt that day. Animosity and distrust had slowly given way to something she had never expected to feel for any man again, much less a journalist. Though she had denied it to Ryan, she knew that Ford had been a big part of her reasons for wanting to relocate to Winding River permanently. She was finally ready to give this fragile love of theirs a chance to flourish.

Without looking up, she knew the precise moment when Ford walked through the door, because Stella dropped the plate she’d been carrying and rushed over to hug him. Every other patron stopped him to congratulate him as he made his way to where Emma sat.

Finally he stood beside the table, his expression more vulnerable than she’d ever seen it.

“May I join you?” he asked.

Unable to speak past the lump in her throat, she merely nodded. His gaze fell on the open paper.

“You’ve read it?”

“Every word.”

“And?”

“What you wrote was wonderful,” she said, meeting his gaze. “I hope I can be that eloquent in court.”

“You’ll be even better,” he said. He looked away, clearly uneasy, then finally faced her. “When this case is over, you and I need to talk.”

She thought she knew what was on his mind, thought she knew exactly why he wanted to wait, but she couldn’t, not one second longer. She called on every last nerve that had ever gotten her through a tough court case.

“Why not now?” she asked. “I have a couple of things on my mind.”

He regarded her warily. “Such as?”

“I’ve decided that I’d like to relocate my practice to Winding River. Caitlyn’s happy here. I’m happy here. What do you think?”

“Ryan mentioned that you’d been thinking about that.” He sounded somewhat miffed.

“Actually, I hadn’t been,” she said. “Not consciously, anyway. If anything, I’d been fighting the idea. Then the other day, Ryan said something and everything clicked into place. I just have one question—how would you feel about it?”

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Sounds like a good plan to me. To tell you the truth, I wasn’t all that crazy about commuting to Denver.”

That he’d even been considering such a thing reassured her that she was making the right decision. “Then you wouldn’t mind having me around to butt heads with?”

The smile spread to a full-fledged grin. “I wouldn’t mind having you around for a whole lot of reasons, butting heads included.”

“Care to name any of those other reasons?”

“There’s the sex for one thing,” he said, chuckling at her startled reaction.

Then Emma couldn’t help it, she laughed too. “There is that. Anything else?”

“I’ve gotten pretty attached to Caitlyn and the rest of your family,” he said.

“I’ve noticed that. You and my mom have become especially tight lately.”

“We have a lot in common.”

“Only one thing I can think of,” Emma said. “Getting me to move back here.”

He grinned. “Like I said, a lot in common. And I’m pretty sure she and all the rest of them have expectations,” he added.

“Expectations?” she repeated, ignoring the sudden leap of her heart.

“You know, where you and I are concerned.”

“And you wouldn’t want to disappoint them?”

He shook his head. “No, but the person I really don’t want to disappoint, the person I never want to disappoint, is you.”

Emma thought of the article and knew that she would never doubt his integrity or honor again. She had known for some time that she didn’t doubt his love. “You couldn’t if you tried.”

His grin was rueful. “Would you be saying that if that story hadn’t done exactly what you’d hoped for?”

“As long as it was honest, as long as the facts were accurate and nothing was misrepresented, yes.”

“Can you really be sure of that?” he asked, his gaze intense as he studied her. “I’m always going to be a journalist, Emma. I’m always going to call things the way I see them. If you’re going to be practicing law here, there will be other cases and other stories. I won’t slant things to suit you.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to.”

His gaze held hers. “Are you sure? Really sure?”

Because the answer was obviously so important to him, she took the time to think it over. Deep down, she knew that he might write things that would rankle, things that might not be favorable to a client of hers, but she also knew that he would never do it with malice. He would never in a million years do to her what
Kit and his pal had done, because deep down Ford was the most decent man she’d ever known. He’d proved it with this story about Sue Ellen and in myriad other ways.

“I’m sure,” she said quietly. “Absolutely sure.”

He nodded slowly, but that serious expression in his eyes never wavered. “This may not be the most romantic time or place for this, but since we seem to have an audience, I’ll do it anyway. It might improve my odds of getting the right response.”

“Audience?” she said, and looked up to see all of the Calamity Janes lurking nearby, nodding encouragement. Her gaze shifted back to Ford.

He reached for her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Marry me, Emma.”

It was her turn to ask if
he
was sure.

“Oh, I’m sure,” he said with heartfelt conviction. “I think I fell in love with you the second you told me what an idiot I was.”

“Way back then?”

“Yes, way back then. Not too many people can be so blasted sexy when they’re busy insulting a person.”

“Not many people can take it so well.” She studied him intently. “You really think we can survive all the disagreements that are bound to come up?”