“Are you sleeping?”
Emily had never been so glad to hear Willa’s loud whisper. She ran to the door and opened it.
Willa flounced in and threw herself across the bed, her short full skirt billowing for a second to reveal a tear in her stocking. “I can’t stand another minute in the nursery!” she exclaimed.
Emily held back a laugh. “What’s so awful about the nursery?”
“Everything! Trevor’s such a baby. I don’t have any place for just me. Sometimes girls need time alone, you know. Can I stay here with you?”
Emily watched the little girl throw her arm across her forehead dramatically, a gesture she had probably learned from her Aunt Rose. Willa was just what she needed to distract her from her worries.
But only for one night. Sometime soon she would be running away with Anson. She couldn’t afford to lose her privacy.
She cleared her throat. “Willa, dear, how about being my sleepover friend tonight?” At the little girl’s eager reaction she added, “Just tonight, mind you. We’ll make a party of it.”
Willa sat up quickly. “Honest? Shall I run and ask Mama?”
“No. Let her write while your brother’s asleep. We can ask her later. I’m sure she won’t mind.” Emily sat down on the bed, and Willa scooted over next to her. “What do you want to do when you sleep over?”
Emily was trying to think of what games a five-year-old might like to play when Willa came up with a suggestion. “We can write love letters to our boyfriends.” She quickly stifled a giggle behind her cupped hands.
“Boyfriends? Do you have a boyfriend?”
“We can make one up,” she suggested with another giggle. “Or I could write mine to Jake.”
“Jake!” Emily eyed the child. “Isn’t he a little old for you?”
Willa shrugged. “Papa’s older than Mama.”
“Not twenty years older!”
Willa shrugged her shoulders until they touched her ears. “But he’s so-o-o-o handsome. And so-o-o-o strong. He can lift me onto a horse like that.” She tried to snap her fingers.
“Anybody can lift you onto a horse,” Emily argued. “You’re a little girl.”
Willa thrust out her chin. “But Jake does it better than anybody else. Even Papa.”
Emily eyed the little girl sternly, but she felt her lips twitch with a smile. In a moment they were laughing in each other’s arms. “All right,” Emily said finally. “We’ll write love letters tonight. What do you want to do now? Shall we see about making those cookies we never got around to the other day?”
“Cookies!” Willa cried, jumping off the bed. She quickly covered her mouth then whispered loudly, “Trevor’s sleeping.”
Willa remembered to whisper all the way down the stairs. In the kitchen, she tugged Emily’s hand and pointed. Jake was cleaning the ashes out of the stove.
He looked up at the little girl’s giggle. “Good afternoon, ladies,” he said.
Willa ran to Martha but gave Jake a sidelong glance before asking permission to make cookies. Emily intended to follow Willa but found herself walking toward Jake instead.
“Don’t come too close,” he said. “You’ll get ashes on your dress.” She stopped a few feet away. She couldn’t help thinking of Willa’s description as she watched him work.
“What were you two giggling about?” he asked.
“I wasn’t giggling.”
“I thought I heard two distinct giggles.”
“No. Only one. And it’s girl stuff. Secret.” The last she said in Willa’s exaggerated whisper.
“Oh,” he whispered back.
Willa joined them with her lower lip sticking out a good half inch. “Martha says we can’t bake cookies ‘cause she’s gonna make Christmas stuff.”
“Maybe we can help her with the Christmas baking,” Emily suggested.
Willa shook her head sadly. “She says it’s candy, and it’s too hot for me to help. What are we going to do?”
Emily couldn’t help but smile at the girl’s sense of tragedy. “I don’t know,” she lamented.
“How about going riding with me?” Jake asked.
“Can we, Aunt Emily? Can we, can we?”
Emily bobbed her head, following the bouncing girl’s movements.
“She says yes,” Willa told Jake, tugging on Emily’s hand. “Let’s go change.”
“I didn’t say yes,” Emily corrected, allowing herself to be dragged from the room.
“You nodded.”
A few minutes later, Emily stepped from her room, dressed in a divided skirt, and found Willa in homemade pants waiting for her. They went quickly down the stairs and headed for the back hall to get their coats.
Jake met them there. “You won’t need more than jackets,” he said. “It’s warmed up some since this morning.”
Willa found what she wanted to wear, and Emily helped her into it and her gloves. “All I have is my cloak,” she said. “Perhaps I could borrow something.” She studied the row of coats, trying to pick something the right weight.
“This one’s mine,” Jake said, grabbing a flannel-lined jacket. “I left it here last fall.”
For some unknown reason, Emily wanted to refuse it. But she could think of no reason, and Willa was obviously in a hurry. She drew on the jacket as she followed the others outside.
Jake was right, it was surprisingly warm for December. Christian and Perry had saddled the horses, and her brother helped her mount as Jake lifted Willa into the saddle. The little girl tossed her a smug grin as Jake mounted.
“Watch her close,” Christian said to Jake before they started off. He was referring, of course, to his little daughter.
Jake led them down the path they had followed that morning. He stayed so close to Willa that Emily soon fell back to watch them. Jake took Christian’s admonition very seriously. When Willa leaned down to scratch her ankle, his hand shot out to steady her.
Emily had to smile. Her talkative little niece was unusually shy. Yet she wanted to compose a pretend love letter to him that evening. At least Emily thought it was pretend. Of course, if the little girl actually delivered the letter, Jake would be nice about it. She couldn’t imagine him ever doing anything that would hurt anybody.
She felt the most peculiar stab of jealousy, which she quickly shrugged off. She took a deep breath of the crisp cool air. It had been months since she had ridden. It had always been a favorite activity on the ranch in the summer. She leaned forward to pat the gelding’s neck.
Ahead, Jake pointed something out to Willa, who nodded when she saw it. It was odd, Emily thought. When she wanted to be alone, Jake or Willa interrupted. When she wanted a diversion, like now, she found herself alone. Or nearly so. Her companions seemed to have forgotten she was along.
She was now quite certain she was increasing. Her flow was two weeks late, and she had always been regular. The bouts of stomach upset and moments of fatigue were more frequent.
She needed Anson. She needed to be married to Anson. Disloyal as it was, she wanted him less and less. If it wasn’t for the baby, she wouldn’t be particularly disappointed if she never heard from him again.
If it wasn’t for the baby. That seemed to preface all her confused thoughts. If it wasn’t for the baby, she could