“Yes, but what does it matter?” He shook his head as if it was of little consequence. “Someone stole the money from the bazaar, and instead of ruining your evening and all your hard work, I thought this would be the best way to make sure there was enough money to still build the school.”
“You knew I didn’t want to take your father’s money—”
“You worked hard, had a good turnout, and earned all the money you needed for the school. Whoever stole the bazaar money will have to live with their guilt, but we all still get what we want.”
“What we want?” Emma shook her head. “What I wanted was loyalty from this community, including the person who stole the money—but especially from you.”
All the dancers had stopped now, and the band had ceased playing. What must all of these people think of her carrying on this way? Embarrassment flashed hot. None of this was their fault and they had all paid to enjoy their evening. “Please, continue the dance, and have a lovely time.” She managed a weak smile. “Thank you all for your support of the school.”
She turned, catching GW’s troubled gaze, and walked through the crowd toward the parsonage.
It was more obvious to her than ever that she and Hays were not well-suited for one another. How could she love a man who didn’t have the decency to respect her wishes? She had explained to him why she didn’t want the Hart family’s money—yet he had tried to deceive her into taking it.
He wasn’t serious enough for her—had never been—but she had allowed herself to be charmed … and to fall in love.
That thought alone made the tears finally come.
Chapter Eight
Hays left the dance floor and caught up with Emma near Travis’s medical building at the end of Main Street. The cloudless night offered a brilliant view of the starry sky, but there was no moon in sight. This part of Hartville was strangely quiet. Emma walked with her face in her hands.
Was she crying?
“Emma?” He put his hands on her shoulders to turn her toward him. The scant light revealed her tears, but she refused to look at him.
Guilt shot through Hays like a bullet, straight to his heart. He never imagined his actions would hurt her so deeply. He thought he was fixing the problem and sparing her pain—yet here she stood, anguish rolling off her cheeks in the form of teardrops.
“Emma, I’m sorry. I had no idea that you’d be so upset. I thought I was helping.”
She shook her head. “I know—oh, Hays.” She pulled away from his hands and wiped at the tears. “Don’t you see? You tried to help by shielding me from the pain you thought I couldn’t bear. Yet the disappointment over the stolen money is nothing like the disappointment in knowing that you betrayed my wishes.”
Again her tears fell, and he felt helpless to stop them. It was a horrible feeling, and it left him feeling powerless for the first time since he was a child. He reached for her. “Emma—”
She took a step back and shook her head. “No. I’m sorry. I don’t think any of this”—she waved her hand between them—“is a good idea. I’ve known it since we met. We’re two very different people. It wouldn’t work.”
Again, the helplessness. How could he make this right? How could he restore her happiness? How could he recapture what they had felt at the Sabinal and while dancing to “The Blue Danube”?
“What can I do, Em?”
A single tear slipped from her eye. “Nothing.”
Emma turned and walked away—and Hays didn’t have the power to stop her.
He couldn’t sleep that night, though he lay in his large bed and relived all the moments that had led up to Emma’s departure.
As the hours ticked by, his mind wandered back to when he was a boy about David’s age. Most of his brothers had left the ranch, and then his mother had died. Hays thought long and hard about those difficult years and how they had shaped him into the man he had become. Truth be told, they had shaped all the Hart brothers—each in his own way.
Hays had wanted to have control over a world gone mad. Pain and sadness were two things he felt helpless to command—but joy, that was something he could produce with a few quick words, a big grin, and a helping hand—until this night, when it had all gone wrong with Emma.
Before the sun rose, Hays was out of bed. He couldn’t handle any more thoughts. He needed to stay busy.
He left the house before his family woke up and went to the barn to saddle Bella. He spoke in soft tones as he led her out into the yard.
“’Morning, Hays.” Pa stood near the corral fence, quietly watching the sun rise above the eastern horizon, a steaming cup of coffee in his hands.
“I thought I was the only one awake.”
“Did you sleep at all last night, son?”
It didn’t pay to hide the truth—not from his pa. “No, sir.”
Pa hitched his foot onto the bottom rail of the fence. “Did things go bad between you and Emma?”
Hays walked over to the fence and tossed the reins around the top rail. “Yes, sir.”
“Over that money?”
“Did you hear?”
“I think everyone heard.”
Hays closed his eyes briefly, embarrassed all over again by the whole situation. He couldn’t imagine what Emma was feeling.