Page 31 of Scarlett

He wasn’t sure what to think. After only just learning about it, he’d assumed Scarlett was attending. There really didn’t seem to be a need for men to go. “Scarlett you should go. It will be a good opportunity to get to know the townspeople.”

At her nod, he wasn’t sure if she was pleased or not with his suggestion. For some reason her not asking that he come with her bothered him. At the same time, he wasn’t sure if she wanted his company.

By mid afternoonthe next day, Emmett felt as if he’d attended the festival by all the people coming and going through his home. The Hamiltons and their wives as well as Elias had stopped by. Finally everyone had left and he stood on the porch looking to the center of town.

The sounds of conversations and music carried to where he was. It was soft, but enough to know there was plenty going on.

He’d not seen Scarlett since early. She’d left while he’d gone to the clinic. A small boy had fallen and his parents brought him to be examined. The boy had left with a splinted arm and a wide smile at his souvenir.

“Dr. Jones,” a young man raced towards him, face red with the exertion. “They sent me to fetch ya. Yer wife has been injured.”

He didn’t ask any questions, but took off at a run toward the festival. A few moments later, he found Scarlett sitting under the mercantile awning with a wet cloth being held to the side of her face.

Her eyes were closed, but when he neared, she opened them and her face flushed. “Why did they bother you? I’m fine, just got bumped.”

Gemina Walker, the mercantile owner gave him a stern look. “She got more than bumped. Boys were playing with sticks and one of them hit her pretty hard.”

“He didn’t mean to,” Scarlett added and then winced when the cloth was replaced with a fresh one. “I’m fine. Emmett, you can go. I’d like to remain for a bit.”

Ignoring her reply, he neared and motioned for Gemina to pull the cloth away. Indeed, the side of her face was already turning purple and there was an angry bump at her temple.

He cupped her face and looked into her eyes. Her vision was clear, her breathing normal. As usual, her expression neutral. “Do you feel dizzy?”

“No.”

“Short of breath?”

“No.”

“Other than it hurting where you were hit, do you have a headache?”

She shook her head. “No.”

Scarlett leaned back, not far, but enough that he noticed. His proximity seemed to make her uncomfortable and she looked past him, not making eye contact.

“You may remain if you wish, but I’ll be here to take you home whenever you’re ready.”

A couple hours later, the sun was beginning to set and the music continued. A fiddler, accompanied by a man with a guitar played lively songs that people danced to.

Both his brothers had been dragged to dance by their wives and so had the other three women who had brought their husbands. Marcus Hamilton was the only one who seemed to be enjoying himself, as the man liked to dance. Marcus’ wife Wilhelmina laughed loudly when he swung her around.

It took a while to find Scarlett, she stood next to Esther’s empty booth, her arms crossed and eyes locked to the couples dancing.

The bruising was not as noticeable from where he stood admiring how beautiful she was. Elegant and distant, at least to him, other people didn’t seem to find her so.

Sheriff Blake neared Scarlett and they spoke for a few moments. She smiled at whatever the man said. They seemed comfortable and continued talking, seeming not to run out of subjects.

When the sheriff looked away, she gazed toward where Emmett stood and then back to the dance floor.

He knew it would make her happy if he danced with her and yet his feet refused to move. Each step toward her and every action that would bring them closer would give her power over him. No matter what, he couldn’t bring himself to accept that any woman was loyal.

His mother had not been faithful to his father, not that his father was much better. Both had lovers ever since he was old enough to discern what happened. For most of his life, Emmett had been aware of the dysfunction of his parent’s marriage.

The reason he’d moved so far from his home of Boston and “polite” society was to get away from the reminder of the farce people chose to live in.

Everything was not real. Whether an engagement or a marriage, both could be dissolved by a whim.

Emmett had first hand knowledge. He’d lost not only his fiancée, but also any chance of a relationship with his father in one fell swoop.