ThE BUCKHORN LEGACY. Lori Foster

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ThE BUCKHORN LEGACY - Lori Foster


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back of his neck, comforting, supportive. A heavy, uncomfortable beat of silence passed.

      “What do you want to do first, Case?” Sawyer spoke in a nearly soundless murmur, his voice disappearing in the dark night. “Talk to me, or talk to Emma?”

      Casey looked at his dad, a man he loved and respected more than anyone else on earth. He swallowed. “Emma.”

      Nodding, Sawyer turned them both around and headed for the door. Casey hoped a few answers came to him before the morning light began creeping over the lake. Because, at the moment, he had no idea what the hell was going on.

      * * *

      EMMA HEARD THE opening and the closing of the front door. She squeezed her eyes shut, horrified, ashamed, scared spitless.

      And oddly relieved.

      More tears leaked out, choking her, burning her cheeks and throat. What had she done? What choice had she been given?

      Honey touched her arm in a motherly way. “Drink your hot chocolate. And Emma, everything will be okay. You’ll see.”

      Shaking down deep in her soul, Emma wiped at her eyes. She felt like a child, and knew she looked more like a barroom whore. Her makeup had long since been ruined and her nose and eyes were red. Her hair was a wild mess and her T-shirt was dirty.

      Though the Hudson household was cozy and warm, she still felt chilled from the inside out. In that moment, she wondered if she’d ever be warm again.

      Hugging herself in self-conscious dismay, she wished she could just disappear. She didn’t belong in this house with these nice respectable people. But disappearing wasn’t an option. She’d gotten herself in this mess and now she had to face them all. She had to explain.

      She owed Casey at least that much.

      At that moment, barefoot and shirtless, Casey came around the corner into the kitchen. His muscled arms crossed over his chest as he stopped in front of the kitchen table where she sat. His light-brown eyes, filled with compassion and confusion, warmed to glittering amber as he looked her over.

      Stomach churning in dread, Emma flicked her gaze away.

      Casey’s father, Sawyer, stood behind him. Honey sat beside her. She felt surrounded, circled by their concern and curiosity, hemmed in by their kindness.

      The damn tears welled up again and she felt herself start to shudder. Oh, God, if she bawled like a baby now she’d never forgive herself.

      His expression solemn, Casey held out his hand. “Let’s me and you talk a little, Emma.”

      She stared at him through a haze of tears.

      Sawyer frowned. “Casey…”

      “Just a few minutes, Dad. I promise.”

      Honey sent Sawyer a pointed look, then patted Emma’s shoulder. “You can use the family room. Sawyer and I will make sandwiches and join you in just a few minutes.”

      Keeping her head bowed so she wouldn’t have to make eye contact with anyone, Emma left her chair. She didn’t want to take Casey’s hand, and tried to walk around him, but he caught her and his fingers laced into hers. His hand was big and warm, strong and steady. Reassuring.

      Normally, just being near him made her feel more secure. But not this time.

      To her amazement, when he reached the family room, Casey sat down and tugged her into his lap. She couldn’t remember anyone ever holding her like that before. Emma was so shocked she almost bolted upright, but Casey wrapped both arms around her and pulled her so tightly to him, her head just naturally went to his shoulder. Her shaking increased.

      Very gently, Casey stroked one hand up and down her back. “Em? Tell me what’s going on.”

      Despite her resolve, she clutched at him. “I’m so sorry, Casey. So, so sorry.”

      He pushed her hair away from her face, then reached for a box of tissues on the end table and held them in front of her. Emma blew her nose, but it didn’t help. The tears kept coming and she couldn’t make them stop. “I didn’t mean to get you involved, I swear.”

      Calmly, as if she hadn’t just turned his life upside down, he said, “Involved in what?”

      That was the thing about Casey. He was always calm, always so mature and sure of himself that, without thinking, she’d used his name and now… Emma grabbed for three more tissues. This was where she had to be careful. “I told my parents that I’m pregnant.”

      Casey went very still. Silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by her gasping breaths and awful sniffling. Casey sat there, tall and proud and strong, while she fell apart like a deranged child.

      In that moment, Emma hated herself.

      His hand began stroking her again. “I take it they weren’t too happy about it?”

      She laughed, but the humor faded into a wail. “I couldn’t think of what else to do.”

      “So you came to me?”

      He didn’t seem nearly as outraged as she had expected. But then Casey was so different from any other guy she knew, she didn’t know what to expect from him. He had a good handle on everything, on his life, his temper, his future.

      “It’s not…not what you think.” This was even harder than she’d imagined. On the silent drive to his house, with her father fuming beside her, she’d tried to prepare herself, tried to make decisions. But this was the worst thing she’d ever done.

      “No?” His thumb carefully smoothed over the bruise on her cheek.

      God, she wished he’d say something more, maybe yell at her or throw her out. His calm destroyed what little control she’d been able to hold on to. “No.” She shook her head and leaned away from the gentleness of his touch. It took one breath, then another, before she could speak convincingly. “I don’t need or want anything from you, Case.”

      The intensity of his darkened gaze seeped into her and she tried to look away.

      Gently, Casey brought her face back up to his. “Then why are you here, Em?”

      “I just…” I had to escape. She drew a shaking breath and attempted to gather herself together. The last few hours had seemed endless, and the night was far from over. “I needed to get away and I couldn’t think of anything else.”

      A rap on the door made her jerk, and she looked up to see Sawyer and Honey standing there, each carrying a tray. Sawyer held sandwiches and Honey held mugs of hot chocolate.

      Emma started to groan. God, they were like Leave it to freakin’ Beaver or something, so homey and together that nothing shook them for long, not even the neighborhood riffraff dropping in with a bombshell that should have disrupted the rest of their lives.

      Envy formed a vise around her heart, but she knew she’d never belong to a family like theirs. They’d never want her.

      Her own family didn’t.

      Sawyer’s smile appeared strained but kind. “I think we should all do a little talking now.”

      He set the tray on the coffee table and settled into a chair. Honey did the same. They both seemed to ignore the fact that she’d ended up perched on Casey’s lap, held in his strong arms. But the second Emma realized just how that would look, she shot to her feet. Before she could move too far away, Casey leaned forward and caught her wrist. Unlike her father’s grip, his was gentle and warm.

      Casey’s hold offered comfort not restraint.

      He came to his feet beside her, and she had the awful suspicion he wanted to provide a united front to his parents. He faced his father squarely, without an ounce of uncertainty or embarrassment. “Emma is pregnant.”

      Sawyer’s jaw locked, and Honey looked down at her clasped hands, but not fast enough to hide her distress. When Emma started


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