The police were still investigating and were not prepared to jump to a conclusion. But Daniel’s belief was that the intimidation had escalated to a new and much more dangerous level. Daniel revealed to Emma that Ferguson, AFM’s previous CEO, had disappeared again and the prosecutors had not been able to find him. If they couldn’t locate Ferguson by the time of the trial, Daniel was the only person who knew what he’d confided to him.
“Could it have been Mr. Laurence?” Emma asked.
Daniel shook his head. “No. The police eliminated him as a suspect. He suffered a breakdown and has been admitted into a treatment center, where he’s been for the past two weeks.”
“Could someone have done it on his behalf?”
“The police dismissed that idea. I trust their judgment. He’s not an evil man. Just a broken one.”
Daniel was obviously tortured by the knowledge that Jenna lay in the hospital bed, bruised and broken because of him.
Emma sat with him at Jenna’s bedside for a long time. They didn’t speak much. There was nothing to say. They understood that with the trial just weeks away, and both of them key witnesses, the risk would increase.
Emma had a long time to mull that over as she drove back to Sanctuary Cove. She didn’t question Daniel’s assertion that Jenna’s accident was connected to the Morgan case. She was inclined to agree with him and the police were investigating that angle, too. She was dismayed that the acts of intimidation had turned to violence.
Emma thought about her own situation. As a witness for the prosecution, would they try to hurt her? She and Daniel were two witnesses who had solid evidence that only they could testify to. Still, she doubted they’d go after her, especially with the attention the incident with Daniel’s fiancée was attracting, both from the media and the police.
She thought of the cut Max had sustained in the woods and her skin chilled. They’d never found the person responsible for it. Would they try to hurt one of her dogs again, then? God, she could never forgive herself if that happened.
She just wanted to get home and have a very large glass of wine and a hot bath. Glancing at the clock on her dash, she felt guilty about having left the dogs alone so long. The bath and wine would have to wait. She had some making up to do with an extended walk. After the walk, she would take the bath and see if the wine could dull the sharpest edges of her anger and frustration.
They went after Jenna. Not Daniel, she reminded herself and brought the X5 to a stop before she reached the crest of her driveway.
What if they tried to get to her through Josh? She and Josh were now known to have a relationship. “Oh, no,” she whispered as she dropped her head into her hands. Another unbearable thought. If anything happened to Josh because of her, she couldn’t live with that, either.
She wouldn’t take chances. She’d do what she could to make sure he stayed safe.
But how? she wondered frantically.
She would have to put things on hold with him, she realized, until all this was over. Regardless of how slim the probability, she was not prepared to risk Josh getting hurt because of her. As much as she loved him, she’d have to keep her distance for now. She thought about telling him outright. Explaining the situation and her concern for him, but she knew him well enough that he’d assure her he’d be careful but wouldn’t accept a temporary separation.
She’d have to be the one to put the distance between them. She just hoped that they could pick up where they left off when the whole mess was over and done with. As much as it broke her heart to think there was a chance they couldn’t, keeping Josh safe was her priority.
With that thought in mind, she continued down the drive.
And she saw him. Josh was in the yard, playing with the dogs in the snow. He should’ve still been at the clinic. The love that swelled inside her as she watched him threatened her determination.
He waved as the dogs raced off to greet her. She parked her SUV and exhaled heavily before getting out.
She greeted the dogs, buying time to figure out how she should handle Josh. Straightening, she dragged her fingers through her hair as she glanced over at him.
He leaned in to brush his lips across hers. “When I got your message, I thought the dogs could use some fresh air and you’d appreciate some hot food when you got back.”
Guilt warred with frustration within her. She hated the thought of hurting him. Tears stung the back of her eyes, but she refused to let them spill over. “I appreciate your leaving work early to let the boys out for me,” she said as they walked toward the cottage. “I’m not really hungry, though.” That was a lie and she hated it, but the next words would at least be the truth. “What I really want is a bath and a glass of wine.”
“All right.” His smile faded. “We can accommodate that, too, in our agenda for this evening.”
She stopped and turned to him before they reached the porch stairs. She desperately wanted to simply slip into his arms. Instead, she took a determined step back. “Josh, you’re missing the point. I’m grateful for what you’re doing—want you do for me—but I need to be alone tonight. I just need some space.”
He gave her a long, appraising look. “Something happened and you don’t want to talk about it. I respect that. But a relationship is a two-way street, Emma, and not just when it’s smooth sailing. I’ve started dinner and I’d like to finish it.” He turned and walked up the stairs, followed by the dogs. He glanced back down at her as he opened the front door. “If you tell me to go, I will. If not, it’s your call if you want to join me for dinner or not.” The lines on his face softened. “I’d like it if you did.”
She stood, speechless as the door swung closed behind him. This time, she dragged the fingers of both hands through her hair and groaned.
When she walked into the kitchen, she was greeted by flickering candlelight and soft music playing from her sound system. Josh stood at the stove, his back to her, and was stirring something that smelled delicious. There was a glass of wine on the counter.
He looked over his shoulder and motioned to the glass with the wooden spoon. “I poured your wine. You can pull up a stool and keep me company while I finish this. My preference. Or you can take it upstairs with you to have a bath.” He checked the clock on the stove. “You have about a half an hour before dinner is ready.”
She picked up her glass, paced away from the island, paced back again and took a long drink. She spread her arms. “You don’t have to do this, Josh.”
“I know I don’t have to. If I had to, I probably wouldn’t enjoy it nearly as much.” He lifted his beer and took a drink.
“Then why?”
“Because I want to.”
She took another large gulp of wine. “Okay.” She paced some more. “Okay,” she repeated but her tone was no more accepting. Her mind was working furiously.
She hissed out a breath.
“You’re going to tell me, sooner or later, what happened today. It might be easier all around if we got it out of the way,” Josh said without turning around, his voice casual.
Emma plunked her glass down on the counter and folded her arms across her chest. She walked to a window and stared out. When she spoke, her voice was raised and her temper was raw. “I don’t want you here, Josh. I can’t do this.”
The wooden spoon made a clattering sound as he dropped it into the saucepan. She spun around and locked her gaze with his. His eyes were dark, his expression enigmatic. In all the time she’d known him and after all that had happened, she’d never seen him lose his temper before. She could see he was on the verge now. He was obviously waiting for her to make the next move.
Emma lowered her arms to her sides, raised them in appeal and said emphatically, “Really, Josh, I don’t want you here.”
He seemed to have a quick and silent debate with himself. He closed the gap
between them with three long strides. “I’m here for you, Emma. Whatever the problem is, I’m here.”
The ragged sigh that trembled through her lips spoke volumes. She closed her eyes and placed her hands on his chest, but her fingers clenched into fists. She wasn’t sure if it was in anger or frustration. She’d recognized the same feelings in his eyes, along with hurt.
She looked up in surprise when he stroked a surprisingly gentle finger across her cheek. His eyes on hers, he brushed a loose strand of hair off her temple and tucked it behind her ear. “Talk to me.” The simple words, laced with concern, broke through her crumbling resolve.
Emma nodded, admitting the truth would be best. “I was in New York City today.” She turned away and stared out the window, the darkness relieved only by a smattering of starlight. “I went to Lenox Hill Hospital.”
He stepped in front of her again. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, me?” She glanced at him briefly. “I’m fine. I met Daniel there.”
When she saw him relax a little, she picked up her glass and drained it. “Daniel was there to see Jenna.”
“Why is Jenna in the hospital?”
“She had an accident. Except the police don’t think it was an accident and neither does Daniel.”
“Is she okay?”
“She will be, but she’s banged up. She was hit by a cube van. The police say it could’ve been more serious if not for a man who pulled her back from the curb when he saw the van barreling toward her.” Emma fidgeted with the hem of her sweater and then folded her arms over her chest again. “He probably saved her life.” Her eyes stung with unshed tears. “It wasn’t an accident, Josh. I’m certain of that.”
* * *
JOSH WAS APPALLED. If it was true, that things had escalated to this level, Emma was in danger, too. He thought he understood what she’d been trying to do. He wanted to protect her, to reassure her, but knew he had to tread carefully to prevent her from continuing to try to push him away. He kept his voice calm, matter-of-fact. “I’m glad to hear she’ll be okay. How’s Daniel taking it?”
“Not well, as you can imagine. He feels responsible.”
There it was, he thought, the root of it. He skimmed a hand along the length of her hair. “Emma, he isn’t responsible and you know it. The person who is responsible is the guy driving the van. Even more so, the person who paid him to do it, if that’s what’s happened.”
Her eyes were a turbulent, stormy gray. She blew out a long, uneven breath. “Yes. I know,” she said, but without true conviction. “I tried to tell Daniel the same thing. It didn’t help. His view is that if not for him, it would never have happened to her.”
“And you couldn’t convince him because you don’t entirely believe it yourself.” His words were soft but the force of their meaning drew her gaze back to his.
He framed her face with his hands. “It’s not going to work, Emma. You can’t push me away. I’m sticking.”
She lifted her arms. “You didn’t see Jenna in the hospital, the dark bruises on her face, around her eye, the scrapes along her arms and the large cast. You didn’t see Daniel, ravaged by guilt. I don’t want to be responsible for—couldn’t live with—anything happening to you.”
He took her chilled hands into his. “Nothing will happen to me, Emma. Even if it did, you wouldn’t be the one responsible. Hear me out,” he said when she was about to object. “I make my own choices and I choose to be with you—not just when it’s convenient. What we need to do is ensure nothing happens to either of us. I know your instinct still is to keep me distant and safe, but look at me.” He gave her a moment to do just that. “It would be futile to try.”
Emma pressed a hand over her stomach. “Josh, you’ve become so vital to me in so many ways,” she said softly. “Without even realizing it, I’ve come to trust you and rely on you, when, after Richard, I couldn’t see myself trusting again.”
Those words meant more to him than she’d ever know. He sensed the change in her and was glad for it. He felt the release of tension much like a balloon deflating, and he drew her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “Nothing will happen to us, and it will all be over soon. Trust me, Emma.”
Josh was already formulating plans to ensure he could deliver on his promise, starting with updating Chad. But first things first. He tilted her face up to his.
Her lips curved and her eyes were a clear misty gray again, before her eyelids fluttered closed as he lowered his head to kiss her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
EMMA COULD’VE SLEPT through the bright slashes of blue lightning against the obsidian sky, but the deep rumble of thunder woke her. She lay still for a while, enjoying the soothing sound of the patter of rain on the windowpanes. The steady rhythm of it lulled her and she nearly drifted back to sleep.
Until the thunder cracked once more.
Her eyes flew open. That one was close, she thought, not with any degree of fear but as an observation. The dogs—as always taking their cue from her—weren’t bothered by the onslaught. Theo groaned and rolled over to his other side. Max lifted his head, sniffed the air and, apparently satisfied that all was well, dropped his head back down between his outstretched paws.
She shook her head and smiled. The world collapsing around them wouldn’t disturb the dogs.
Despite the earliness of the hour, she climbed out of bed.
Today was the start of the trial.
With a yawn, she stretched, slipped her feet into slippers and pulled a thick sweater over her T-shirt. She padded out of the room, the dogs, immediately alert, following her.
She scooped the kibble into the dogs’ dishes while they impatiently danced in place. Setting the bowls on the floor for them, she then stoked the fires. By the time she’d finished, so had the dogs with their breakfast. Shrugging into a heavy raincoat and pulling a ball cap over her head, she followed the dogs outside.
Emma was grateful for this quiet time alone. Watching the antics of the dogs, it was good to smile—at least for now. She took her time with the walk despite the weather. She didn’t mind the rain. In fact, she welcomed it as a portent of the end of winter.
Emma thought of spring and hoped the trial would, indeed, be over by then. She desperately wanted it to be behind her. Yet she dreaded the start. Not only the pressures of giving testimony and being cross-examined, something that the prosecutors had taken great lengths to prepare her for, but also the circus-like media attention that would go with it because of Senator Morgan’s notoriety. To add to her trepidation, she didn’t want to see Richard, either, in such a public and confrontational manner. She’d been warned that the defense would use Richard’s testimony—and his personal relationship with her—to try to discredit her.
Although she could still feel a pang of sympathy for Richard for having lost out on the chance to lead the defense in such a high-profile case and the prospect of a partnership along with it, she was relieved she wouldn’t have to face him in cross-examination.
Her sense of tranquility gone, with a deep sigh, she headed back toward the cottage.
* * *
JOSH WAS UP EARLY. He knew it was an important day for Emma. When he arrived at her cottage and she and the dogs weren’t there, he surmised they were out for a walk. He started breakfast. Watching through the kitchen window for her, he saw her approach. He could almost see the tension build in her as she neared, the way her posture transformed. Shoulders slumped, hands buried in her pockets. He wished there was a way to spare her from the ordeal she was about to face, but the lawyers had been clear. It was unavoidable. She would be called to the stand.
He turned back to the stove to stir the scrambled eggs. He was flipping the bacon when Emma entered the kitchen, her long hair damp despite the ball cap she wore, raindrops clinging to her eyelashes. He handed her a mug of coffe
e.
“Good morning. And thank you.”
After she’d taken a long drink, he pulled her into his arms and asked her how she was feeling. The question was rhetorical, but he thought it might help her to talk about it.
She let her head rest in the crook of his shoulder. “As well as can be expected, I suppose.” After a few long moments, she drew back, reached for her coffee and took another sip. “I’ll get through it. I’ll be fine,” she assured him.
“I’m sure. But knowing doesn’t make it easier for either of us. I can’t help worrying about you until it’s over.”
Doubt and apprehension clouded her eyes to a pewter gray. “What about the possibility of appeals? By either side, depending on what the verdict is? It could stretch out for years.” She tore her gaze away and looked out the window at the rain-drenched landscape. “I just want it to end,” she whispered.
The possibility of appeals had occurred to him, too. “Let’s get through it one step at a time,” he suggested pragmatically.
He turned off the burners and served their breakfast. She surprised them both by clearing her plate rather than toying with her food. When she was done, she pushed away her plate and rested her crossed arms on the table. “Josh, I don’t know how to thank you for being here for me. I can’t even begin to explain how much it means. I’ve always prided myself on my independence, what I saw as my ability to confront any challenge and deal with it head-on. To not rely on anyone else for things that really mattered.” She glanced down. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “But I’m realizing that Richard had taken a lot of that away from me.”
She uncrossed her arms and reached out to rest a hand on top of his. “And I’ve been struggling to get it back, but I’ve discovered two things,” she continued slowly. “First, that my independence was a matter of necessity as opposed to personal choice. Before you, other than my parents, I never had anyone I could truly rely on. Consistently, unquestionably. Second, that relying on someone is not a weakness or some other lack in oneself. Rather, it’s a matter of profound respect for another. The ability to trust and believe in the other person to the extent that you open up and give part of yourself. Josh, you have taught me both these things, and I can’t thank you enough.”