she had friends right there on Hummingbird Lane who helped her.
“I’m going to take a walk tomorrow to work on a picture of an eagle.” Josh kept his eyes on his plate. “Every now and then he flies overhead and I get another detail or two by shooting a picture of him with my camera. If you want to go with me and maybe sketch some cactus blossoms, you are welcome, Em.” He held his trembling hands in his lap and wished he hadn’t said anything at all. What if she said yes out of pity because she didn’t want to hurt his feelings? Or worse yet, what if she said no because she was afraid of him?
“Yes, I’d like that.” Emma smiled.
“I’ll be waiting on your back porch about ten o’clock, then. I usually see the eagle about ten thirty.” His pulse stopped racing.
Emma gave a brief nod. “I’ll be ready.”
“So, you like to be called Em instead of Emma?” Arty asked.
“Yes.” Emma nodded again. “It reminds me of happy times.”
“Then Em it is,” Filly said. “I don’t like to be called Ophelia. It sounds so pompous and stilted. Filly says that I’m a free spirit. Em is kind of the same. Wearing that beautiful outfit, and with your hair all pulled up, I can see that you got a little bit of rebel blood in you, too.”
“That’s so sweet. Sophie’s mama’s name is Rebel, and I always wanted to grow up and be just like her,” Emma said.
Arty pointed toward the southwest. “Looks like Mexico is sending a storm our way.”
“Well, dammit!” Filly swore. “If it rains, we won’t get much of a visit, and I was hoping to talk y’all into a game of gin rummy tonight. Maybe after your walk through the cactus fields, you can come over for coffee tomorrow, Em?”
“That would be nice.” Emma nodded.
They had barely dipped up the cobbler when a dark cloud moved across what sun there was left, and a loud clap of thunder sent Coco running for the pet entrance in the front door of Josh’s trailer.
“Time to go inside.” Josh was disappointed, too. He liked card games and the banter that went on between Filly and Arty when they played. “I can smell the rain, and if you look out there, you can see it headed this way.”
Arty put lids on the plastic containers of food, stacked them up, and started for his trailer. “Temperature is dropping, so we might even get some hail.”
Filly re-covered the cobbler with foil, set the relish tray on top of it, and hurried off to her trailer. “Y’all hunker down until it’s over. If it’s rainin’ tomorrow night, we’ll have supper at Arty’s place.”
Josh jogged across the yard, but he didn’t make it inside before enormous drops of rain began to fall, and the wind picked up. He hurried inside, took time to wipe the water from his glasses, and then opened the door to the back porch. He loved the smell of rain and the sound of it beating on the metal roof. For the first time, though, he wished it would only be a passing storm, not one that lasted through the night. He didn’t mind walking in the rain or getting wet, but he wasn’t brave enough to go out when there was lightning.
He sat down on the sofa in his living room and glanced over at the easel where he’d set his latest work. He refused to be nervous about the next day. He had to calm himself or else he would have insomnia. Only one thing ever got rid of the jitters, and that was work, so he moved from the sofa to the easel and began to put the tiny lines into the eagle’s feathers that would give them life and movement.
“We’re all afraid of something,” he muttered. “Even someone as pretty as Em has fears. I’ll have to take it easy with her if she’s ever going to be my friend.”
In Emma’s mind the dream was real.
Emma couldn’t move. She kept thinking that if only she had been the girl who wore a flouncy skirt, she would have the strength to fight that guy off. She’d gone willingly to his apartment. Dallas was one of her fellow art students, after all. He had said that Terrance had a painting he wanted her to critique. It was an unusual abstract painting, and Emma told both guys that she had no expertise in that kind of art.