Every Waking Moment - Page 73/91

NEBRASKA WAS as flat as Emma had always heard. Cornfields stretched out on either side of the road, still green although it was late August. Dirt roads dissected the passing countryside and an occasional farmhouse or red barn rose in the distance.

She listened to Max play with his computer speller while imagining what it might be like to live in such a place, with bees humming in the flowers nearby, a small dust cloud following a tractor as it rolled slowly along in the field next door, the wind gently stirring the tops of the corn stalks.

She’d like it, she decided. She wanted to live a simple, clean life, wanted to sit out on her porch with a tall glass of lemonade and let Max play in the yard with a big dog.

“Sleepy?”

She glanced over at Preston, who was driving with both hands for a change, and tried not to remember the conversation she’d overheard between him and his mother. She’d been trying not to think of it all morning, but it kept coming back to her.

Just someone who’s catching a ride. It’s nothing.

He’d been talking about her. She was nothing.

“A little, I guess.”

“You’ve been quiet today.”

She didn’t have much to say. She felt foolish for the fantasies she’d entertained in the shower, for believing last night had meant anything to him. And she was more than a little surprised to discover how much that realization hurt. A week ago, she’d wanted only to start over, to be independent. But a few days in Preston’s company had shown her how starved she was for positive emotion.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. She’d known better than to let herself care.

“Emma?”

“What?”

“Is something wrong?”

“No.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“The future.”

“What do you see in your future?”

Her eyes open now, she admired the neatly tended rows and patchwork squares of the passing farmland and wished her life could be so orderly. “A small town.”

“And?”

“A little yellow house with a white picket fence and flowers in front.”

“That’s a far cry from a mansion with a pool house. Won’t you miss anything about living the way you did?”

“Are you kidding? The mansion I lived in was a prison. I don’t want anything that reminds me of it. And—” she shrugged “—you can’t ask for too much on a teacher’s salary. I’m willing to settle for what I can afford.”

“Is that what you plan to do for a living? Teach?”

“If I can find a position.”

“Where in Iowa would you like to settle down?”

“I don’t know yet.” She was beginning to wonder if maybe she’d put enough miles between her and Manuel by now. Maybe she should have Preston drop them off at the next town. The sooner they parted, the better. Who was to say Iowa would be any safer than Nebraska?

She unfolded the map he’d shoved onto the dashboard after they’d gassed up this morning. “Maybe somewhere around here would be okay.”

He pulled his attention from the road. “Here? Now you’re talking about settling in Nebraska?”

“Why not?”

“What happened to Iowa?”

It was another four hours to the border. And he was heading to Cedar Rapids after that, which was an additional five hours. Even though Preston had stopped periodically to play a little ball with Max, her son had spent enough time cooped up in a car. Besides, saying goodbye to Preston might be harder in Cedar Rapids, since he wouldn’t be moving on to the next state. She didn’t want him close if she was never going to see him again.

“I just want to settle in a farming community where I can live the kind of life I’ve dreamed about for the past few years. And Nebraska looks like it has plenty of farming communities. It’s the Cornhusker State, remember?” She tried a weak smile, but he didn’t return it.

“Why are you suddenly in such a hurry to split up?”

She didn’t want to address that question, so she kept poring over the map. “Hazard’s not too far away. That might be a nice place. Or Rockville or Ashton—”

“Emma.”

She heard the serious note in his voice but kept her eyes on the map. “Looks like it might get a little hilly over by the Missouri River, so I think somewhere before that.”

“I’m sorry for what I said on the phone this morning, if that’s what’s bugging you.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” It was her misconception, right? He’d been good to her and Max, done much more for them than she could have hoped. She had no right to complain. “Go ahead and take this exit. I’ll start by checking out the job market in Kearney and go from there.”

“I didn’t mean it.”

She finally gave him her full attention. “Of course you meant it. We’re a burden. And now that the pressure is off, there’s really no reason for us to trouble you anymore.”

Crossing her arms, she waited for him to pull off the freeway. But he sailed right past the exit.

“You didn’t stop.”

“Now spell zoo…”

“What about Manuel?” he asked.

“What about him?”

“He could catch up with you.”

“He could catch up with me anywhere. That’s a risk I’m going to have to live with. There’s another exit coming up.”

His eyebrows drew together. “I don’t want to drop you off here.”

“What’s the difference?”

He caught and held her gaze. “Stay with me for one more night, Emma.”

He wasn’t offering her a night spent with their clothes on. She could tell. And she knew she should refuse. She’d just cursed herself for letting her relationship with Preston become so intimate, for allowing herself to care about him. But there was that hunger in his eyes again, and it so closely mirrored her own she could scarcely breathe.

She thought of how he’d tossed them into the van and screeched out of the Gas-N-Go. She thought of the miles and miles he’d gone out of his way from Ely, his generosity with the clothes he’d bought her, everything he’d done for Max. After Manuel, how could she not fall for a man like that?

“What do you say?” he asked.

The question revealed his vulnerability, his fear that she might refuse. She wished she could. But “no” simply wouldn’t come.