Wars at Home

Chapter 17

I hadn't doubted Emily's sincerity at the time, but I knew first-hand how hard it could be to hold onto your resolve, no matter how strong it was, in the face of temptation.

I was greatly put at ease over the following days when I saw her interaction with Stephen though. He came as he always did with an excuse of needing something during the day. Only after my little talk with Emily, he wasn't greeted with shy smiles and giggles any longer.

Emily wasn't rude, but there was a definite coolness in how she reacted to him. She wasn't hanging on his every word anymore or giggling at anything he said.

In fact, she acted as if she hadn't even heard him unless he addressed her outright. Something he didn't do often, since he seemed to prefer being subtle.

The dumbfounded look on his face had been priceless though, and pretty soon the daily visits to the kitchen became more and more sporadic before ceasing entirely.

The change in Emily's attitude toward him was so drastic and sudden that I might have worried it was all just for show, but Stephen seemed to grow more sullen every day during meals, throwing covert and confused glances at Emily who, as she had in the kitchen, basically ignored him.

We didn't talk about it again, but if I had to guess, more than anything else, I would think she didn't like the idea of being played with, now that she realized that's what Stephen had been doing.

But I was grateful that she seemed to really take what I'd said to heart, and I didn't think Stephen would be an issue any longer.

Another change that resulted from our conversation, was Emily's attitude toward her cooking lessons. She was still far from able in the kitchen, but she was slowly showing real improvement. It was as if she only just realized the possibility that she would need to be able to run her own kitchen within a few years. So now, instead of acting as if she were being tortured, she showed an interest and determination to learn.

She had yet to master making bread, but she had made some edible, if slightly burned loaves. And she was onto learning how to make plenty of other things.

Thankfully, she didn't go back to square one with each new recipie. Her progress with the bread seemed to carry to everything else, so that she was usually able to produce a fairly decent dish within a few tries.

Overall, it was going very well. In fact, everything was going well. The children were mostly getting along. Even if there were still plenty of fights, they all finally seemed to have adjusted to one another. I think it was a great help that Victoria and Ruby didn't share a room any longer. Even if it had become unusual for them to be apart while they were awake, they each had their own place to go if they needed space.

The best news of all was that the war was finally ending.

I didn't count it as being completely over, since Andrew and the boys hadn't come home yet, but for all practical purposes, it was over. The treaty was signed and there was an official cease fire.

I'd received a letter from Andrew just last week. It was dated right before the truce was called, so he had only been able to predict that the war was sure to end any day. I knew that another letter had to be on the way now that it really was over, telling me when I could expect them all home. It would probably be a little while until then, but as long as they weren't in danger of being in any more battles, I could wait. Just knowing that they had all survived to the end of the war and were safely coming home had me breathing much easier. Now there was just that wretched waiting to endure. But I suppose if I'd waited this long, another few months wouldn't kill me.

At the moment, I hardly had time to think about it. John had a tradition of hosting an annual Christmas party for everyone on the ranch, and this year, rather than having an ever grumbling Mrs. Abbott prepare things, I'd helped Emily and Ruby organize everything themselves.

To my great satisfaction and Mrs. Abbott's annoyance, everyone commented on how much better this year's party was than usual.

I emerged from the kitchen with another batch of hot cocoa and scanned the room for Victoria and Ruby who had appointed themselves as the party's drink dispensers.

Spotting Victoria across the room, I put the tray down on the nearest table and waved her over.

As I looked for Ruby, I saw Emily with her back to the wall and Stephen standing in front of her. I guess he was sick of being ignored and had decided to corner her. It was a very bold thing to do with John so nearby.

Forgetting the drinks, I went to rescue my niece who didn't look thrilled to be where she was. She already tried to move past Stephen twice, to no avail. I got about half way there when Emily crossed her arms in a decidedly defensive position and I was satisfied to see that she looked annoyed rather than intimidated.

Walking the rest of the way, I sidled up beside Emily and put my arm around her shoulders.

"Aren't you enjoying the party, Mr. Harper?" My tone was pleasant enough to anyone that might overhear, but I was sure my eyes let Stephen know exactly what I was thinking.

"Oh no. He was just leaving," Emily answered before Stephen had the chance to. "He doesn't feel very well."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I played along and watched him expectantly.

He glanced between the two of us, seeming amused rather than angry.

"It appears as if I'm heading out." He nodded. "Good evening, ladies."

He looked as if he wanted to laugh, but thankfully backed away and left us alone.

I turned to Emily and we exchanged a look. Just as I was about to ask her what that was all about, the sound of breaking glass somehow managed to penetrate the noise, getting my attention.

"Thomas!" Victoria shrieked, running passed me in a blur.

I looked after her, completely shocked. It couldn't be! There hadn't been any word of anyone coming home!

Everything seemed to go in slow motion as I wateched Victoria run across the room and fling herself at the man in uniform, standing just inside the doorway.

I stared with an odd detachment as he hugged her before pulling James, who'd suddenly appeared, into his arms as well. I couldn't allow myself to believe it only to be disappointed if it wasn't him.

After a minute, he raised his head and looked straight at me, allowing me to see that it really was him.

My son was home.

I felt the smile spreading across my face and tears welled in my eyes as I began moving forward. Thomas set the children aside and took a few steps in my direction.

Shocked to see that he now walked with a limp, I stopped, momentarily terrified for whatever had given it to him. A second later though, I was moving again, too happy to see him alive and safe, to worry about what happened before this moment.

Before I had the chance to reach him, though, a few things registered in my mind, stopping me dead in my tracks. Thomas was home early, and I should have been aware he was coming. Why hadn't I been notified of such important information? Especially considering that he'd been wounded.

And the thing that was making it hard to breathe was the look in his eyes. His mouth was turned up in a forced smile, but his eyes told me that he was anything but overjoyed the way he should be at his homecoming.

My knees must have given out because I felt someone supporting me suddenly. I couldn't look to see who it was as I was unable to tear my eyes away from my son.

I wouldn't have understood what I was seeing anyway. Everything blurred around the edges of my vision while I stared at Thomas, who limped toward me with that awful look in his eyes.

It was the look of someone with bad news. The worst kind of news.

News that meant someone wasn't coming home.

All I could do was gasp for air as that thought repeated in my mind.

Thomas' face above me was the last thing that registered in my mind before everything went black.