Filly got busy loading up a plate with potpie and salad and a bowl with peach cobbler. “If anything will get her up and going, it’ll be food. She loves to eat.”
“I’m going to box up some grub,” Arty said, “and get out the cooler to put some frozen meat in. To cook over a campfire, all you girls need is a skillet and a coffeepot. I’ve got extra of both.”
“We’ll have you all loaded up and ready to get out of here by daylight.” Filly began to clean up the table. “She’ll get over this with you by her side.”
“We’ll miss you girls. When you have reception, we’ll expect a report every evening,” Arty said. “I’ll tuck in my little .22 pistol in case you need it for snakes.”
“Either two-legged or the slithering kind.” Filly winked.
“You probably shouldn’t do that. If a two-legged one came sniffing around, I might shoot first and ask questions later,” Emma told him. “Did Filly tell you—”
Arty slammed a fist into his open hand. “She did, and I just want to know if your mama or daddy killed those sorry bastards.”
“I didn’t tell them until Mother sent Jeffrey to take me home a few days ago. I told her over the phone, and she responded just like I thought she would. She asked me what I’d done to provoke the attack and called me stupid for being so naive. At the time, I just figured if I ignored it, everything would be all right, but it wasn’t. I haven’t told my father yet, and I don’t know if Mother will even bother to tell him. Sophie and you all have helped me realize that ignoring something doesn’t make it disappear, and now I have to help her see the same thing. No matter what happens to us, we can’t let it define the rest of our lives,” Emma said.
“Amen to that, sister,” Arty agreed.
“Your mother said that to you?” Filly laid an arm around Emma’s shoulders. “I shouldn’t talk ugly about your mama, but, honey, that ain’t normal. She should have gone gunnin’ for those sumbitches even after all these years.”
“Mother isn’t capable of loving anyone but herself—at least that’s the way I see it,” Emma explained.
“Guess you’re showin’ her that you’re nothing like her, ain’t you, child?” Arty said. “And, honey, I’m still tuckin’ in that little gun. If you have any doubts, you just flick the safety off and shoot! You are not stupid and you’re damn sure not delicate. And that horrible thing that happened to you wasn’t your fault. You are an artist, and that makes you different and special. Don’t ever forget it.”
“Thanks, Arty.” Emma felt empowered by his words.
Arty nodded. “You two kids go get the sleeping bags and whatever else Josh can think of. Tuck in her art supplies, and me and Filly will have the food ready to load at dawn.”
“Thank you.” Emma smiled. “For everything. And if you’ve got any connections”—she rolled her eyes toward the sky—“you might put in a word for me. Other than a night in Josh’s cave, I’ve never spent a night out under the stars.”
“You’re goin’ to love it,” Josh said. “Even though you need to get her out and painting again, I’ll miss you, Em. Take the food inside and grab Sophie’s keys and an armload of canvases. I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”
His words put an extra beat in Emma’s heart, and knowing that she would be missed sent a surge of happiness through her. “One more time, thank you, Josh,” she said.
He eased out the door, and she grabbed a fork and carried the food back to Sophie’s room. “Hey, it’s time to wake up and eat something. You’ll be sick if you don’t start—”
Sophie waved her away with a flick of the wrist. “Go away, I’m fine.”
“No, you are not,” Emma told her, “but you will be. If this food isn’t eaten by morning, I’ll call Rebel.”
“I already did,” Sophie said. “I told her I was just fine and that you would take care of me.”
“Well, since you told her that, then I suppose it’s my job,” Emma said. “Eat your supper.”
“Later,” Sophie said.
“Okay, have it your way.” Emma left the room and went straight to her bedroom. She packed a tote bag with two changes of clothing for each of them, took the SUV keys from a hook beside the kitchen door, and headed outside with canvases under one arm and the bag slung over her other shoulder. Josh met her at the back of the car with two sleeping bags and a lantern of some kind that she hoped Sophie knew how to light. She hit the button to open the hatch, and he began to load things.
“I’m putting these matches”—he held up several small books—“in the glove box. You’ll park close to your campsite, and if it happens to rain, you don’t want them to get wet.”
“You thought of everything,” she said.
“I’ve been out in the desert a lot at night,” he explained as he took the bag and canvases from her and loaded them. “I learned by my mistakes. Can I help you carry anything else?”
“Yes, and thank you.” She nodded.
“Want to have a beer with me on my back porch when we get done?” he asked.
She wished that she’d known him before she went to college, that they’d gone to the same high school together and maybe even dated. Everyone knew her story now, and no one seemed to be ready to send her packing for being stupid. Knowing that someone believed in her, and that Josh would miss her even when he knew what had happened, made her feel like she was walking on air.
“I’d better take a rain check, so I’ll be close if Sophie decides she wants to talk,” she answered.
“Don’t forget to take your pillow in the morning,” Josh said as they went into the trailer. “Just grab Sophie’s and yours and take her to the vehicle. I’ll put Arty’s and Filly’s stuff inside for you and leave the keys in the ignition. The less you have to do, the more likely you’ll get her out of the house.”
When they finished taking out the last load, he walked her back to the porch. He brought her hand to his chest and held it over his heart. “Feel that?” he asked.
In her mind, she could see fireworks all around them. “Feel what?”
“That’s my heart. It likes you a lot, Em, and it’s going to miss you terribly. Come home to it when you get done taking care of Sophie,” he whispered.
Lord, have mercy! She’d never heard anything so romantic in her whole life. “I will, Josh. I promise.”
He dropped her hand and cupped her face in his hands; then his lips met hers in a fiery kiss that left her panting when he took a step backward. “Take that with you and know that I’ll be right here waiting for your call each evening.”
“I’m going to miss you, too,” she whispered.
He brushed a soft kiss across her forehead. “I hope so, Em. I really, really hope so, and while you are rescuing Sophie, I hope that you find you out there in Big Bend.”
She floated into the house, checked on Sophie, and took the plate of untouched food to the trash can. Then she took a long, hot shower, since she knew she might not get one for a couple of days. When she crawled into bed, she realized that Josh had really kissed her—and that she wanted more.