Broken Trails Read online

  One way or another, he had to get back on her radar. Nate hated leaving anything unfinished, and Emma and he were everything but finished.

  Chapter 2

  Emma

  Emma couldn’t believe she had just run into Nathan Rourke. No makeup on. Her hair limp. She hadn’t even put on a clean shirt after mucking out the chicken coop.

  She stomped along the path home with Drake directly behind her. Sullen. That was her little brother, always sullen. Always worried about what the world wasn’t giving him. Mom attributed it to Emma getting so much attention because of her illness growing up.

  Jealousy. Emma huffed under her breath. If anyone had the right to be jealous, it was her. Drake never had to deal with hospitals or needles or exams or prodding or the cold. Oh, the cold. She shivered as another chilly ripple in the air grazed her skin.

  She didn’t have a jacket that fit. They didn’t have the money and her mother was wearing hers.

  Emma didn’t look back to make sure he heard her or was even still following. “It’s gonna be dark soon. Mom said you still need to get your chores done.” If he wanted to risk more of Dad’s wrath, that would have to be on him. Emma’s strength waned. Out of breath, she was already getting tired, and she hadn’t had to walk more than a few hundred yards to get to the pond. Ruger’s property bordered theirs, making excursions to the pond altogether too easy for Emma in her younger days and for Drake now.

  Could their parents really be upset at them for taking advantage of the proximity?

  Tightly coiled ivy grew up the pine trees at the start of the Benson land. Emma reached out and plucked at the new leaves as they passed.

  Pushing the problems with Drake from her mind, she reluctantly returned to thinking about Nate. Again.

  Nate. Like growing up with him and loving him wasn’t enough. As if she needed the constant reminder that dreams of a young girl don’t matter. Some wishes can’t be granted by foundations. No matter how sick a kid got.

  The Rourke boy – no, man – was one of those dreams.

  He’d looked amazing. His shoulders filled out to match his height and the straight lines of his back and waist couldn’t hide beneath his duster. Well-stacked jeans fit snug around his thighs – thighs that had thickened with muscle over the years.

  How long had it been since she’d seen him last? She was only twenty-one, which didn’t leave much time since graduation. Three years? Four at the outside?

  Drake pushed into her back, shoving her to the side.

  “Ow! What’s wrong with you?” Emma rubbed at her lower back where his elbow had sharply connected. She stared at his retreating form as he passed her, his eyes cast away from her.

  Whatever had crawled up his rear needed to be removed. Immediately.

  He disappeared into the shed where the feed for the milk cow was kept. A good couple hours of work sat before him. Even then, Dad might still get after him. Nothing took priority over the animals. They needed to be fed and maintained, before the Benson family did. Always.

  With their meager income, sometimes the animals ate when the family didn’t.

  Emma slowed her pace, and still reached their house faster than she would’ve liked. Yes, her mom was worried about Drake, but with Dad’s beat-up Ford in the drive, the mood in the house would be different. The tension thicker, difficult to breathe through.

  Opening the back door, Emma stepped inside. She listened as hard as she could for any fighting. The complete silence unnerved her and she tiptoed toward the humble kitchen with its one countertop no more than four feet long and single sink under the window.

  As scarce as their belongings, Emma’s mom kept things clean enough to lick.

  Her dad sat at the table, his head in his hands while her mother rubbed his back as she stood beside him. Glancing up at Emma, her mom gave a quick jerk of her head.

  Emma ducked down the hallway to her room. She got the bedroom and Drake got the closet. Literally. A closet in the hallway had been designed for a washer and dryer to fit inside. Dad put the laundry machines outside on the back deck and gave Drake the closet so he’d have something of his own.

  Drake still grumbled about that.

  Not that Emma’s room was much bigger. The only difference besides an extra ten square feet was a window that couldn’t have been bigger than a text book which let in enough light to wake to.

  She picked up the rotary dial phone on the floor next to her bed and moved to dial. But she didn’t have anyone to call. No one to talk to about seeing Nate again for the first time in forever and how crappy she looked. Or about anything.

  Flopping over on her back, Emma ignored the twinge of pain where her last IV had been. The nurse was new and she’d jabbed Emma so many times Emma was convinced she’d leak like a sieve. The bruises wouldn’t go away for a while. Not with the medications she was on.

  Was always on.

  At least the woman had bandaged her properly after taking out the line. The tape tugged, but didn’t bother her as much as the bruises did. Emma rolled to her stomach and curled her arms around the flattened pillow.

  No noises carried from the kitchen.

  Most likely he was worried about money. Dad always worried about money.

  And Emma was usually the cause.

  ~~~

  Drake knocked on her door early the next morning. He stuck his head in and then stepped inside, filling the rest of the free space in her room. A sheepish cast to his normally cocky expression hinted at his intentions.

  Emma didn’t move. She hadn’t slept in a while. Her stomach growled from skipping dinner the night before. They didn’t have any food, but Mom promised something today. Anything was welcome. The chickens hadn’t laid eggs in almost a week, probably because of their diminished feed.

  “Sorry about... Did I hurt you?” Drake bit his lower lip. He wasn’t a jerk, he just had a lot on his mind.

  His pride was all he had left, and Emma got that. She had more in her head sometimes than she thought she could handle. She shrugged. “Not more than that nurse.”

  Weakly laughing, Drake dropped to the edge of her twin mattress, pushing her feet to the side. “She did a number, didn’t she?” He’d been there when they’d admitted her. Driven her, in fact. Dad had been at work and Mom couldn’t get to Taylor Falls fast enough. Drake had borrowed the neighbor’s rig and driven like a rodeo horse gone wild.

  Not answering, Emma watched her brother. He wanted something, but she couldn’t figure out what. Best thing with Drake was to sit back and wait.

  She didn’t have to wait long.

  Drake cleared his throat, picking at the pilling on Emma’s worn quilt. “Did you see me kiss that girl?” His cheeks flushed and he held his gaze down.

  Oh no. Emma had seen, but had chosen to keep her mouth shut. He’d have enough ribbing at school. He didn’t need crap from his older sister about it. She nodded, but since he wasn’t looking at her, she added. “Yeah. Stefanie Rourke, right?”

  The mention of her name drew Drake’s eyes to focus on Emma. He nodded curtly. “Yeah. Well, do you think… do you think it looked like, maybe she was into it?”

  She peered at her brother, like he was asking something other than his fairly blunt question. Emma shifted to sit up and face him better, give the topic the seriousness it warranted. Drake never came to Emma about anything. This moment was huge. “At first she looked like she was, but what she said afterwards kind of gave me a different opinion. What was she talking about?”

  A pained expression shadowed his dark brown eyes. “She’s not very popular. She likes to hang out with the guys and she’s stronger than half the boys on the baseball team. I don’t want to be a bigger loser than I already am.” His admission cost him many pride points from the slump to his shoulders and the drawn out sigh.

  Stefanie Rourke was anything but unpopular. Everyone liked her. But with Drake’s pride, he’d ignore that. He had to. How else would he survive being rejected by the pond?

&nb
sp; When the Rourke children lost their parents they gained the sympathy card that even surpassed the one Emma had for her chronic illness. Stefanie had dark hair with penetrating blue eyes that matched her brother’s and she was petite with an athletic build. There was everything to like about Stefanie.

  For people like Drake and Emma, they had to protect themselves from rejection before it even happened. Living in the poorest section of Clearwater County, the Bensons weren’t known for their class or their cash – more for their humility and hard work and desire to help anyone in need. While those traits were admirable, they weren’t the ones that got you invited to the cool kids’ table at school or to the parties afterwards.

  “I honestly doubt Stefanie would hurt your popularity, but I know that’s not what’s important to you. Do you like her?” Emma held her breath. She’d always had feelings for Nate and if Drake cared about Stefanie… well, things would get very uncomfortable if Emma got her way and was able to at least date Nate again. She couldn’t give him a future, but dreaming about it never hurt anyone.

  He shrugged, screwing up the side of his face like he couldn’t decide. “I do and I know she does, too, but I was drinking yesterday and, well, I said some things to her in front of everyone and…” He swallowed, piercing Emma with his gaze. “I think I hurt her feelings.”

  Emma had seen the whole thing and Stefanie’s feelings were definitely hurt. She leaned forward to pat his shoulder.

  A shrill whistle carried to them from the front of the house.

  Pushing at her covers, Emma pulled on clothes over her tank top she wore at night and stumbled after Drake into the hall. The whistle was a command to hurry and get out front.

  Immediately.

  Even at twenty-one, Emma still worried about upsetting their dad. She hadn’t grown out of the dependence part of growing up since she’d missed out so much on actually being home. Plus, guilt held her in check. She relied on them for help health-wise. Without her parents, she didn’t have anything. And because of her, they had next to nothing.

  Crashing into each other, Drake and Emma came to a stop in front of their parents who stood by the front door with their jackets on. Mom clutched her purse, tears in her eyes.

  Dad narrowed his eyes at Drake. “It’s taken us some maneuvering, but after last night, we have a solution. I assume you haven’t come up with any consequences to make up for your irresponsibility?”

  Drake looked down and mumbled, “No, sir.” He kicked the toe of his boot at the matted carpet.

  “You accept that ditching school and your chores was irresponsible and disrespectful?” Their dad didn’t soften his tone and held his back rigid.

  “Yes, sir.” Drake clasped his hands behind his waist and nodded shortly.

  Emma didn’t know what was going to happen, but she hoped it wasn’t bad.

  Dad met Mom’s eyes with his and pressed his lips together in a thin disapproving line. He spoke to Drake and Emma. “I lost my job. They were downsizing and I’ve taken too much time off over the last three years. I was cut first.” Dad didn’t look at Emma during the last part. He didn’t soften the blunt edge of his words.

  He took off work to be with Emma at the hospital. He donated his blood and plasma so she would have some. Not only was her family poor because of her but her dad lost his job because of her.

  Shame and guilt welled inside Emma, bringing more nausea than any of the chemotherapy treatments ever had. She swallowed back the bile threatening to come out of her like hot lava.

  No one replied, just waited for him to continue. Nothing irritated Dad more than being interrupted when he spoke. What would they say anyway? Sorry for your loss?

  “That being said, and taking into consideration your antics over the last few months, Drake, your mother and I have decided to send you to live with Uncle Will.” His words fell into the small house with impending finality. No discussion would be tolerated.

  Emma gasped, jerking both hands up to cover her mouth as she stared at her brother.

  Drake finally looked up, glancing between Mom and Dad, harsh betrayal glistening in his eyes and in the tightness of his cheeks. “What about school? What about… Don’t you want me anymore?”

  Tears pricked at Emma’s eyes. Yeah, she was old enough to move out and live on her own, was an adult in all intents and purposes. But she had missed so much time at home over the years because of time in the hospitals, she never really felt caught up. Now, Drake wasn’t going to be there. Their family was going to be torn in half.

  He was her brother. She needed him. And she was pretty confident he needed her.

  “It has nothing to do with wanting you or not, son. Uncle Will’s a professor at Wyoming State University. You’ll live with him, get your GED, and then go on to college there. He can have up to three dependents get an education free. You’re going to be one of them.” Dad pulled on his jacket, avoiding looking anyone in the eye. His next words came strangled, but he didn’t relent. “Go get your stuff. The bus leaves in an hour and I need to get to town to submit my resumes.”

  Right then? He was leaving right then. No time to say goodbye.

  “Can I go to town, too, Dad?” Emma asked quietly, her chest tight. Her dad didn’t refuse her anything and she rarely asked. She didn’t want to compile more guilt onto her already overflowing plate.

  Their mother spoke up, her words choked. “We’re all going, as a family.” She nodded jerkily, brooking no argument. She stumbled out the door, steadying herself with the frame and pulling from Dad’s outthrust hand.

  Emma met Drake’s gaze and they turned together to trudge down the hall with the weight of impending separation dragging them down.

  “You have ten minutes, boy.” Their dad closed the door behind him as he followed Mom outside.

  “I’m so sorry, Drake. I had no idea.” Emma bit her lip. Was he mad at her? Did he blame Emma? Would her parents send her away, too? She ran through the things she could’ve done lately, but came up blank. Her dependence on them left her in a shaky spot. They could send her or her brother away at any moment.

  Drake shrugged, opening his doors and pulling out a large duffel bag from the shelf in the top of his room/closet. He stuffed clothes into it, the few he had as well as a quilt their grandmother had made him shortly before she’d passed from a heart attack. “It’s not a big deal. Less expense for Mom and Dad to deal with, right?” His tortured tone gave away his pain.

  She stood there quietly, watching him pack up the remnants of his life with his family. He spoke calmly, even controlled, which wasn’t like Drake. Hopefully, he wouldn’t explode on Uncle Will. The man was a little scary, but cared about his niece and nephew. He wasn’t rich, but Drake wouldn’t go to bed hungry.

  Emma was a little jealous.

  Drake paused and stared at the bare mattress in the now-empty closet. “I always complained about the size, but it was mine, you know?”

  The tears Emma fought slipped from her lids and she blinked. She had to be brave for him. For her little brother. He must feel abandoned and alone. Her breath hitched and she chewed on the inner skin of her cheek to hold back her sobs.

  He stood from his crouched position and Emma threw her arms around him, pulling him close in a tight sisterly hug. “I’m going to miss you.” She muttered into his shoulder.

  Drake patted her back and nodded, but didn’t reply.

  Together they walked down the hall and outside to climb into the back of the pickup where their mom and dad waited in the cab.

  Wind picked at Emma’s hair and she tried not to dwell on the fact that, try as much as she could, childhood was gone. She’d never get it back.

  The fifteen minute ride passed fast and bumpy. Drake and Emma didn’t speak, but every once in a while their eyes would meet and they’d curve their lips in an attempt at smiles.

  When Dad parked the rig along the curb in front of the general store, Emma reached out and ruffled Drake’s hair.

  Climbing out, D
rake claimed a spot to stand on the squares of the sidewalk. He seemed out of place beside a streetlight peppered in signs and flyers fluttering in the breeze next to him.

  Mom walked by him and lifted her hand as if to touch him, but dropped it at the last moment and walked inside the store. Dad disappeared into the small post office and florist building, probably to see if the knowledgeable owner had any insight on job openings.

  Emma had never felt more alone.

  The clip-clopping of horseshoes on the pavement drew Emma’s gaze. Her lips grew slack and she tried not to stare, but some things are just plain hard to do.

  Nate’s horse ambled along, coming to a stop at the tailgate of the Benson truck. Nate stared down at Emma without blinking, as if he was taking all of her in.

  She pushed at her hair, extremely aware of the dust coating her skin and the fact that she hadn’t had a chance to brush her teeth before leaving that morning.

  After his parents died, the word around town was he’d sold or gotten rid of all their cars and trucks. Now he rode his horses around. Like an old-fashioned cowboy. Emma didn’t blame him. Losing his parents the way that he did… she didn’t think his actions were that outlandish.

  He tipped his hat and then glanced at Drake who he nodded as well. “Emma, Drake, how you doin’?”

  “Good, thank you.” She nodded abruptly. Why wouldn’t he leave? She didn’t need him stirring feelings up inside her she wasn’t equipped to deal with. Seeing him the night before had nearly crushed her. He came in after her or she never would’ve gone into the clearing – Drake or no Drake. Was Nathan mad at Drake for kissing Stephanie? Was he going to cause trouble there?

  Avoiding Nathan Rourke had become a talent she excelled at.

  Drake grunted and shoved his hands in his pockets. He didn’t say anything else, but walked to stand by the window of the small bookstore.

  Dismounting, Nate fiddled with the reins in his hands and glanced at Drake and his bag while addressing Emma. “Where’s Drake off to?”

  “Away.” Emma didn’t elaborate. How many people watched them, wondering what in the world a guy like Nate Rourke was doing with a girl like Emma Benson? She played with the hem of her t-shirt, looking everywhere but directly at him.