Come Rain Or Shine Part 19

"I'm glad you find this amusing," Silas said snidely.

"Sorry boy, I just never thought I'd see the day when you came here asking my blessing to do your job," Walter said then looked at Silas seriously. "You better love her like she deserves."

"I'm trying," Silas said under his breath.

A moment of silence pa.s.sed again before Silas spoke, "I guess it's not just your blessing I'm after. I also need your opinion. Do you think the Johnsons would use her? You've known them longer than anyone."

"I am not eager to get in the middle of your battles, boy," Walter answered.

"Fine," Silas said, smas.h.i.+ng out his cigarette then pointing his finger at the old man, "but you need to know whoever this is, they have already pulled our girl into this."

Walter rubbed his beard and looked at the younger man for a moment before he spoke. Silas had hit him in the only spot that would make him talk, his family.

"I don't think all Johnsons are the same."

"What kind of answer is that?" Silas asked.

"I mean that just because one of them might be in on something doesn't mean all of them are," he said, turning toward the house.

"Stop, old man," Silas ordered him. "What do you know?"

"Emma, Emma." She felt someone shaking her shoulders gently.

As she opened her eyes she was startled as she took in her surroundings. Her face was marked with a deep red line where she'd slept half-pressed against the window. Marco Del Grande's face came into focus. He was only inches from her.

"We're here," he said softly.

Emmie looked out the window. Raindrops slid down the cool gla.s.s giving the jet-black night sky a distorted appearance. She stood and stretched her legs and then reached for her bag. She was surprised when Marco grabbed it first.

"If you'll get the door," he said, nodding toward the exit of the train car.

She obliged, forcing herself to accept his help. The horrible feeling of guilt was still settled in her stomach. They were in Louisville now and she had no idea how she was going to get back to Bowling Green. Emmie sighed to herself in silent resolve. As soon as they got out of this crowd and into the car, she would own to the truth.

As her feet touched the ground she couldn't help but think of how good it felt to be back in her home state. She took a deep breath and found peace in the drops of water falling rhythmically from the sky. Marco tried to give her his umbrella, but she shook her head.

"I like the rain, Mr. Del Grande," she said.

He looked surprised and then pulled the umbrella back over his body. "I don't ever expect to be your pop. But maybe you could call me Marco."

Emmie nodded in agreement. "Okay. And really, I'm Emmie to everyone I've ever liked."

"Emmie it is then," he said.

Another awkward silence followed as they got situated in the car. As he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road, Emmie swallowed hard. This was it; she had to come clean. To her surprise it was actually Marco who broke the silence.

"I thought we could stay the night in a hotel tonight. It is so late and they aren't expecting us. Showing up tomorrow morning will be better than sneaking up on them in the middle of the night. Unless you're eager to be greeted with a shotgun up your nose." Marco laughed. For the first time his shoulders relaxed a little.

"I'm not eager for any shotguns up my anything this evening." She smiled and attempted to look at ease. She was sure she came up short, but at least maybe it said something that she was trying.

"I've had my secretary arrange a family suite at the Tealbach, if that is okay," he said.

"That sounds great, thank you. I wish I'd known we were staying in Louisville. I have friends up here right now while their boy is working with some doctors. Walter Jones and his family, do you know them?" she asked.

"No, but Molly and Al have spoken of them. They lived near you?" he asked.

"Yeah, they are the closest thing to a family I've got," she said, but regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. "I mean . . ."

"No, it's fine," Marco said, staring straight ahead. "Emmie, I know this is all going to take time."

Emmie couldn't believe how patient he had been with her today. When she'd met him at the Halloween party, she'd thought for sure she would hate him for all eternity. Then again when she'd learned of the lies and heartache he'd fed her mother, her anger had grown. So why were she and this man treating one another with such indifferent politeness? Guilt reared its ugly head again. She knew why she was being nice to him. She needed him to take her where she needed to be. Of all the things Emmie had been in her life, she had never been a user-until today. She couldn't let this go on anymore. If not for him, then for herself.

They pulled into the hotel and she turned to face him. "Marco, I've got to say something."

He stared at her, waiting for her to continue.

"I have no intention of going with you to the Sloan's," she said, looking him square in the eye.

"Emmie, I know you are anxious but I'll be there for you," he said.

"No, I'm not talking about nerves here, Marco. I mean it flat out. If my mama didn't want me around those people, I'm not sure I want to meet them right now. I'm sorry to have been dishonest with you. I'll find a way to pay you back for the train ticket. This was beneath me and I apologize."

"Dishonest?" he repeated her words, pulling the car to a stop in front of the fancy hotel. Then he gave her a tiny smirk. "You think I didn't know you were using me to get down here to see Silas? I saw you two fighting out in the driveway this morning. I wasn't born yesterday, Emmie."

Chapter Thirty-nine.

That took the wind right out her sails. "Wait, you saw Silas and me arguing?" Emmie said, giving Marco a confused look.

He nodded. "I guess if we are getting things off our conscience, I'll share something too."

Emmie's heartbeat began pounding an angry rhythm in her temples. She worked hard to keep her face indifferent.

"I heard you screaming at him that you wanted to go home. You were shouting, Emmie; I don't see how half of the neighborhood didn't hear," he smiled.

"What does my argument have to do with you taking me to Kentucky? Why would you bring my mother's family into it?" she asked, twisting her ring anxiously on her finger. Before he could get the chance to answer either of those questions she added, "Wait . . . Do you really know the Sloan family?"

He put a hand up to stop her, "If you will calm down, I will explain. Yes, your mother's family is still living. Her parents are gone but she had two younger siblings that I believe still live on her family's land."

Emmie exhaled in relief. At least he wasn't lying to her about that. Marco turned off the car, leaving it parked right in front of the hotel. She followed him as he got out of the car and into the cavernous lobby. The same place that had seemed so beautiful only a month ago at the Halloween party now seemed empty. The elaborate woodwork and marble floors left her feeling hollow. Without realizing it a thought slipped into her mind. She wished Silas were here with her. Emmie closed her eyes tightly against the idea and bit her lip. No. She would not let herself miss him. Pain p.r.i.c.ked in her eyes again as she followed Marco Del Grande to the staircase. What on earth was she doing here with this man? She tried desperately to remember Walter's address. Would he be the only Walter Jones in Louisville? Maybe she could phone him. She looked up at her father. He poured himself a drink then looked over at Emmie in question.

"No thank you," she said, sitting on the tiny blue sofa.

He capped the small silver flask, pulled over a chair, and sat right across from her.

"If we are owning to our indiscretions, I guess I should come clean. Ever since I learned that my wife talked to you about the time your mother lived in Chicago, I've been trying to find a way to talk to you too. Once I even drove all the way out to Molly and Al's only to sit there for a half hour in their driveway, turn around, and head back home. Because how do you say you're sorry for leaving someone?" he asked, looking down at the ground. "Every time I'd think I was ready to talk to you-that question would surface in my thoughts again. It would pop up in different words but the meaning was the same. How do you apologize for being a ghost in her past? How do you say you're sorry that she holds you in none of her memories? How do you say you are sorry for nothing. Nothing. Because that is what I was to you, little more than a void in your life. How do you say you're sorry for something like that?" When he looked up at her his eyes were gla.s.sy and bloodshot. His mouth opened and his lip trembled as he spoke the next sentence: "Then one day it hit me. You can't."

Emmie looked at her hands. She attempted to twist the ring on her finger again but her hands were shaking so bad she couldn't. Her throat burned with all the vile things she had planned to tell him if he ever apologized to her like this. But she couldn't find a single word. She had no idea how long they sat there, fighting off emotions that both father and daughter refused give in to.

"I sent your mom money all of those years. I bought the house in Bowling Green that Gabe and I rarely used. Both of those things were really about me and my own guilty conscience. As if that would make me feel better. I watched you from a distance when we were in town. I told myself I was staying away because it was what your mother wanted and it was what was best for you, but I don't know . . . Now that you are grown, I'm not sure it was right. So I've been thinking, if I've got no apology to give what am I to offer? The only thing I've got to give you is a little more insight to your past."

"I'm not sure I can take any more insight into my past right now. Marco, the reason I want to get home is because my friend's cabin was burned down. It's partly my fault. I think it's this revenuer's family that is after him." She swallowed hard and left out all the parts to do with death. She just had to tell him enough of the truth to make him understand. Isn't that the advice that Silas had once given her? "This revenuer's family is at odds with Silas. I helped my friend make apple pie moons.h.i.+ne in that cabin and now someone has wind that he is loosely tied to Silas. Bo lost his cabin and all of his goods because of me. And Silas . . ." Emmie said, standing and walking the length of the room, "I'm worried about him. I can't just sit up there buying myself dresses while he is down here working out the problems I helped to create. No matter how much he would like me to do that . . . I can't. Marco, I appreciate that you are trying to help me here." She sat across from him and grabbed his hands. "I appreciate your honesty with me and your apology." She swallowed hard. "I just don't think I can take anything else that may be upsetting right now. My cup is running over."

Marco frowned and looked up at the ceiling. When his eyes came back to hers, he nodded. "I'd just hoped this might be a memory you and I could make together. It was the only one I could think of that you might take me up on. And if you are a user, girl, you got it honest. I knew you were desperate to get home and I preyed on that weakness. If you want to go home, I'll take you to Bowling Green tomorrow."

Emmie should have felt happy at his words but she didn't. His eyes looked so hollow, so sad. Somehow this man had convinced himself that by taking her to meet her family, he was completing his first real fatherly task for her. She could lean on him and learn from him. What would it hurt her to spend an afternoon getting to know her mother's family? How could it hurt any worse than when she'd learned Gabe's father was actually her own?

Emmie looked up at Marco and spoke before she changed her mind. "I'll stop there with you, if you promise to have me back in Bowling Green by Sunday."

"You don't have to." Marco shook his head.

"No, you were nice enough to bring me down here and put me up in this fancy hotel." Emmie hoped she sounded sincere rather than sa.s.sy. "I appreciate that you are trying to help me learn about my mother. I will go. I just don't want to stay a long time. Is that okay?"

Marco's face split into a grin. For the first time ever she saw emotion reach his eyes. "You have your mother's spirit. Thank you for letting me do this for you."

Emmie forced herself to smile and nod in agreement. As Marco went off to bed for the evening, Emmie sat on the couch wide-awake. Maybe she'd slept too much on the train. Maybe she was anxious about meeting the Sloan family. Or maybe she was just too mentally drained to sleep. Her thoughts moved past meeting her mother's family and on to Bowling Green. She looked at the clock; it was late. Forcing her mind off her worries with Silas, she thought of one person. If there was one person in this state who would tell her more about what was going on, it was him.

Silently she slipped on her shoes, walked out into the hall, and found her way to the lobby. It took a little while to find a worker, but after a few questions he agreed to take her to an empty office with a telephone. He even helped her place the call before leaving her alone. Just when she was sure no one was going to answer she heard a groggy "h.e.l.lo."

"Bo, it is so good to hear your voice." She sighed and pulled the phone closer to her face as if she would be able to touch him through the line. "I need your help."

"Emmie?" he asked, startled. "Where are you?"

Chapter Forty.

Emmie ignored his question and asked one of her own, "Are you okay? I've just heard about the cabin. I am so sorry."

"Emmie, I'm fine. We are all fine. Where are you?" he asked, his voice a harsh whisper.

"I've just gotten back to Louisville. I'll be home by Sunday," she said. "How is Spotty?"

"Your dog is fine. Millie's taken good care of him," he said quickly, as if only to appease her. "Listen, don't come home, okay?"

"What? What do you mean, don't come home?" She frowned.

"I mean do not come back to Bowling Green right now," he whispered loudly again.

"Why?" she asked.

"It ain't safe for you here right now." He spoke so quietly she could barely make out his words.

"Bo, tell me what's going on. Are you in danger? Do I need to send Silas to help you?" she asked, her heart pounding. What if those men were there with him right now?

"Are you with him right now?" Bo asked, keeping his voice level.

Emmie toyed anxiously with the cord. Something in Bo's tone made her afraid to answer that question.

"Emmie, where is Silas?" Bo asked.

Again she said nothing.

"Answer me," he whisper-shouted again.

"Bo, what's wrong? Do you need his help?" she asked.

Bo Johnson laughed into the telephone. "No, but he may need mine."

Emmie's shoulders relaxed a little.

"He's not here right now, but he is close," she answered.

Bo was silent for a second before he said, 'Will you see him tomorrow?"

Emmie skirted the question. "I'm not sure."

"Are you alone?" Bo asked incredulously.

"No," she said. "Tell me what's going on."

"Some men are after your Yankee friends and I think they'd be pretty happy to get their hands on you," he said. "Don't come back here right now, Emmie. Promise me."

"Are the men in Bowling Green? How do you know all of this?"

"I can't say Emmie. I just don't want to see anything happen to you. You have a way of putting yourself in the middle of things," he said.

"Why would they stay in Bowling Green after burning your cabin? Are you going after them? Please wait until I can get them to come help you."

"Them? How many men does Silas have with him?" Bo asked curiously.

Again Emmie felt like maybe she shouldn't answer that question.

"Bo you're frightening me." Emmie uttered the words she didn't often let herself say.