Part 13 (1/2)

”Use the waiting room. I'll come for you there.” Emma shoved the door open and strode out. She'd only made it three steps when Casey caught her. His long fingers wrapped around her upper arm in a secure yet gentle hold. ”Oh no you don't.”

She whirled on him, equal parts furious, indignant and, if Casey didn't miss his bet, afraid. ”You had no right.”

Still holding her with one hand, Casey brushed the backs of his knuckles over her cheek with the other. ”Now there's where you're wrong, sweetheart. You gave me the right eight years ago when you came to me. And this time, it won't be so easy for you to run off. This time you're going to tell me the truth.” He touched the corner of her mouth. ”You can count on it.”

EMMA STRUGGLED to get enough air into her starved lungs, but the panic set in quickly. Nothing had really changed, she knew that now. Her reaction to Casey, his protective instincts, her smothering fear ... it was all still there. It had only taken one day back in Buckhorn to make it all resurface.

Just like his father and uncles, Casey had a soft spot for anyone in need. She hadn't wanted him to see her that way. Not this time. Not now. But given what he'd just overheard, she knew d.a.m.n well he'd be doling out the pity again. G.o.d, she couldn't bear it.

She licked dry lips and cautiously tried to free her arm. He didn't let go.

”Why are you doing this, Casey?”

All his attention remained on her mouth, unnerving her further. ”Doing what?”

She rolled her shoulder to indicate his hold. ”This...overwhelming bombardment. You insist on coffee, insist on giving me a ride, insist you have to know everything even though it's none of your business. Why nose in where I don't want you?”

”Where is it you don't want me, sweetheart?”

Oh, that soft, coaxing voice. She couldn't let him do this to her. She'd come home because she had to, and all along she'd expected to see Casey again. This time, however, she'd wanted his respect. ”What's between me and my father doesn't concern you.”

Filled with conviction, Casey started to lead her into the waiting room.

”Casey!”

They both looked up to see the young nurse who'd accompanied the doctor into her father's room. She'd slipped out the door and she had her sights set on Casey. As she bore down on them with a proprietary air, Emma tried to retreat.

She heard Casey's annoyed sigh as he tugged her closer and draped his arm over her shoulders. Emma didn't know if he did it as a sign of support, or to make d.a.m.n sure she couldn't slip away. Whatever his purpose, it didn't matter. She couldn't let it matter.

But being tucked that close to him shook her on every level. He was so hard, so tall and strong and masculine. Heat and a wonderful deep scent seemed a part of him, encompa.s.sing her and filling her up in places she'd forgotten were empty. With every pore of her being, she was aware of him. He was her living, breathing fantasy, and he kept touching her in that man/woman way, just as she used to dream of him doing.

Only the timing was all wrong now. Or she wasn't right for him a and never would be.

She had to get away.

The nurse halted in front of them, her smile bold, her posturing plain. Unlike Ann, who had been cordial, not by so much as a flicker of an eyelash did this woman acknowledge Emma. ”Casey, I had such a nice time last weekend.” She spoke with a heavy dose of suggestion. ”I sort of expected you to call.”

While Emma went stiff enough to crackle, Casey was loose and casual and relaxed, as if he didn't hold Emma prisoner at his side, forcing her through this awkward come-on.

”I've been busy.” And then to Emma, ”Lois and I were both at the same party last weekend.”

Lois? Forgetting her own discomfort for a moment, Emma took in the bouncing brown hair and heavy hazel eyes. Recognition dawned. ”Lois Banker?”

With an effort, Lois pulled her gaze from Casey. She lifted perfectly plucked eyebrows. ”That's right. And you are...?”

Unbelievable, Emma thought in wonder. At least the maturity had shown on Ann. Her dark hair was shorter now, and there'd been a few laugh lines around her eyes. But Lois...she looked just as she had in high school. She was still pretty, perky, stacked.

She still had a thing for Casey.

Emma dredged up a smile even as she lifted her chin, preparing for the worst. ”You don't remember me, but we went to school together.” She held out a hand. ”Emma Clark.”

Lois scowled as she scrutinized Emma, and then slowly, with the jogging of her memory, her lip curled. ”Emma Clark. Yes, I remember you.” She s.h.i.+fted away from Emma's hand as if fearing contamination.

Emma found the petty att.i.tude ridiculous, but not unexpected. Lois had never hid her dislike of her. But Casey pulled Emma a little closer and his fingers on her shoulder contracted, gently ma.s.saging her in a manner far too familiar. Of course, Lois made note of it, and her expression darkened even more.

Casey said, ”Emma is back for a visit.”

”A brief visit?”

You wish, Emma thought, and then was appalled at herself. Good G.o.d, she had no claim on Casey, and Lois certainly had no reason to be jealous of her. ”Until my father is well.”

Lois's eyes narrowed. ”I hadn't made the connection.” She glanced at Casey's hand on Emma. ”Mr. Clark... He's the one who was drunk when he had a stroke, isn't he?”

Emma took the well-planned words like a punch on the chin. They dazed her. And they hurt.

”My father doesn't drink.” Defensive and a little numb, Emma retreated. ”Excuse me, please.”

Casey released her as she pushed away. ”Emma?” On wobbly legs, Emma wandered into the waiting room and headed for a plastic padded seat, praying she wouldn't embarra.s.s herself by tearing up.

Why would Lois say her father had been drinking? Emma knew for a fact that he never touched alcohol. Like her, he'd made other choices.

In order to find answers, would she have to go see her mother, after all? Memories fell over her in a suffocating wave.

Then Lois's voice reached her, offering a much-needed distraction.

”Casey, what in the world are you doing with that nasty girl?”

In response to the slur, Casey became terse. ”Nasty girl, Lois? Just what the h.e.l.l does that mean?”

”Oh come on, Case.” Lois's laugh of disbelief grated along Emma's nerves until she s.h.i.+vered. ”She was the biggest s.l.u.t around and everyone knows it. Besides, from what I've heard, you certainly had firsthand knowledge about-”

”Shut up.”

Lois gasped, but otherwise remained silent. Emma squeezed her eyes shut. Firsthand knowledge? Is that what people thought, that Casey had given in to her relentless pursuit? What a laugh.

Then a worse theory occurred to Emma and she curled her arms around her stomach. Oh no. Surely no one had heard her outrageous claims of being pregnant. Her father wouldn't have told a soul, and Casey's family wasn't the type to gossip. Yet Lois had inferred something...

”You need to grow up, Lois, and learn some manners.”

”I need to learn manners?” Her outrage was clear. ”I'm not the one who slept with every guy in Buckhorn.”

Casey snorted. ”As I recall, not that many guys were asking.”

”Casey!”

”See ya around, Lois.”

The sound of Lois's angry, retreating footfalls couldn't be missed. Emma sighed, aware of Casey's approach but unsure what she should say to him. Already she'd caused him problems, but he didn't want to hear her apologies, he'd been plain about that.

She felt steadier now, but still swamped in confusion. Her father didn't drink a never had a and she knew in her heart he never would. What had Lois meant by her comment?