Loving Against the Grain (Into the West #2)

Chapter 5

 

 

The words echoed within the warm kitchen, snaking around the room and gathering momentum before they converged on Edward, punching him in the gut and doubling him in half, as if the air had been knocked out of him. The pronouncement rocked his stomach, shivering up his spine and attacking his body like a debilitating disease, leaving Edward shaking and nauseous. Hunched over, one arm around his waist as if cradling a physical injury, Emmaline’s brother lifted his head enough to stare at his sister, unable to wrap his mind around her announcement.

Pregnant? Emmaline was pregnant? His little sister, his beautiful, innocent, younger sibling…pregnant? The same girl who had run from the spiders he’d shoved in her face when they’d been little; the same child who’d laid on the floor and cried every day when he’d left for school, too little to accompany him; the same young woman who’d followed in his footsteps by going back East for finishing school, wanting the same sort of education as he had…that girl was pregnant? As in, with child? In the family way? Knocked up?

Brother’s and sister’s eyes met; held; the blue set leaking tears that flowed freely down her face, while the brown pair filled with sorrow and yes; disappointment. Disappointment strong enough to chase Emmaline’s tears out of the corners of her eyes with gathering momentum, until she began sobbing in earnest before her disillusioned sibling. The warm, homey atmosphere crumbled under the strain of the moment, fracturing into shards of anger and recriminations yet to be spoken. Emmaline’s crying intensified the longer Edward remained silent; the more quiet the room stayed, the more powerful her sobs became, until her shoulders shook, and she began hiccupping, wiping at her soggy face with trembling hands. And still he just stared, his face a caricature of what it had been just five minutes previous, as if the weight of the world had been dropped onto his shoulders. As, in reality, it suddenly had.

When still her brother held silent, through her tears and hiccoughs, Emmaline managed to gasp brokenly, “Eddy? Say something, Eddy. Don’t just stare at me! Say something!”

The use of the nickname from their childhood, nowadays only employed when he’d irritated her, managed to crack through the heartbreaking trance he’d sunk into, snapping Edward into the nightmare of the present. Carefully, as if in bodily pain, he straightened, dark eyes never leaving his sister’s broken countenance. And yet he remained silent, cocking his head slightly, the fall of shaggy hair partially hiding his expression.

At last he spoke.

“How?” He managed to croak, not wanting the exact logistics, but simply wishing to understand how his little sister, the person he loved in the entire universe, could have forsaken all their familial morals and beliefs and put herself in this situation. “How?” Edward repeated, softer, barely above a whisper.

“I—I loved him! Love him! Still love him!” The sobs came faster now, as Edward’s simple question forced Emmaline into self-examination, a pastime she’d rarely practiced up until this point, and which felt foreign and uncomfortable. The tears continued to fall.

“Fairchild? Was it Fairchild that did this to you?” He couldn’t help it; couldn’t keep the sneer from his voice. The sea captain was a dandy, a fop. All the loggers and lumberjacks had made fun of that man whenever he docked, prancing around in his officious officer’s uniform, complete with shiny brass buttons and lace at the collar and sleeves. Hell, he probably snorted snuff out of a shiny tin box like his forefathers!

Edward forced himself to study his sister as she nodded, tried to remain dispassionate when all he wanted to do was grab her up into his arms and croon comforting words, to rock her till the pain dissipated. But this time it wasn’t a scraped knee that could be washed and kissed to be made better. This time it wasn’t mean words that could be explained away with a simple apology and a hug. No, this time was a life-altering poor choice, a moment in time that irrevocably changed both their lives forever. And for that reason alone he remained stiff and aloof. Because, no matter how you sliced it, this was not something that just happened to Emmaline; no, she’d had a direct influence on the outcome; a definite choice she’d help make, unless…?