out, watching Billy run full speed toward the corral.
Was she thinking the same thing? That hearts bound in loyalty were the best part of life.
“I’ll go sit with Lucy and pray. We don’t need to wait on Doc Brown for that,” Rachael Sizeloff declared.
Matt expected Emma to follow the preacher into the sickroom, but instead, she pushed past Red and out onto the front porch.
“Princess!” she called. “Fluffy!”
The dogs came bounding toward the front door, stirring up a small twister’s worth of dirt in the process. It collected on their fur like a second coat.
Emma stood aside when they gamboled past.
“Go on, go to Lucy,” she murmured, but the pups were already on their way. Princess left four scratches on the floor scrambling for footing on the smooth wood. Fluffy bounded over the back of the couch, rolled on the cushions and deposited a mat of black fur before she tumbled off and drooled on the floor.
“Go on, you two, get in there and make Lucy feel better,” Emma said.
She ought to be angry as a hornet now that the dogs had left their mark on her precious house. It more than frightened him that she allowed it.
Lord, how he loved the woman.
* * *
Emma stood beside the corral fence. Clouds rode low over the earth, painted orange and crimson by the setting sun. She watched the changing hues ride over the land—her land, every weed and piece of gravel. She breathed in a lungful of twilight air. It felt fresh and cleansing.
Fall was pushing summer into the past. Each night grew a little cooler than the one before. Time had run out so quickly and now her life balanced on a pinhead. Her beloved land, or the man she loved?
She couldn’t think of that now. There was only Lucy, her baby, to be considered.
“Come over here, Pearl!” she called.
Thunder twitched his ears. He sauntered behind Pearl, nudging her flank with his nose when they reached the fence.
“I have both of you to thank for my life.”
Pearl snorted. “All right, Matt, too.” She stroked a brown face and then a black one. She reached into the pocket of her apron, pulled out a pair of apples and fed one to Pearl and one to Thunder.
Emma nuzzled her nose into Pearl’s singed mane. No matter how she longed to have the summer back and spend it loving her husband, fall was at hand and Lucy needed tending.
“Doc Brown is spending the night. He’s going to show me what to do for Lucy.”
Boisterous wind caught her skirt and whipped it about. Chilly fingers pinched her arms when the gust pierced the sleeves of her dress. She shivered and rubbed her hands over her arms.
As if by magic, her shawl settled over her shoulders. Matt’s big body stood close behind her and blocked the draft. He wrapped his arms about her and drew her against his chest.
“How many children survive this, do you think?” His voice rumbled next to her back, deep and worried. “Half?”
“Maybe, but Lucy’s strong and that will go in her favor.” A shiver traced through Matt’s body. Emma felt it and patted his hands where they crossed over her ribs. “I’ve heard of children recovering.”
But none of those children had overtaken her defenses so completely. None of them had laid claim to her heart. None of them had been allowed to call her Mama.
“She’ll be fine.” Her voice would sound more convincing if it weren’t shaking. “You’ll sing to her to keep her spirits up and I’ll make her drink broth and keep her bedding clean. Mrs. Sizeloff will pray.”
“She’ll be on the mend in no time. We might have to sit on her to keep her from running off to play in the creek before she’s ready,” Matt said.
“Oh, yes. She’ll be down there searching for Mr. Hopp—” All of a sudden the thought of Lucy never getting out of the sickbed swelled a lump in her throat that she couldn’t speak over.
She turned in Matt’s arms, pressed her face into his shirt and gripped his vest with tight fists. How many tears could eyes shed in only a few days?
Matt buried his face in her hair. He rocked her, his breath warm against her scalp.
The very seconds ticking by seemed to ache. Minutes, heavy with foreboding, stretched out forever.
Matt drew in a deep, steadying breath.
“Lucy’s going to be fine.” His voice, suddenly firm, was a lasso strung about her. She grasped it and pulled away from the