Page 73 of A Rancher's Heart

Chapter Sixteen

Silence filled the corners of the room like a windless snowfall. With both girls asleep and Caleb not back yet, Tamara sat all cozy in the living room, intending to fall into her book for a relaxing evening.

Not an empty silence, though. It was the sounds of peace and home. The fire crackled. A furnace fan kicked on somewhere in the background, adding a low thrumming noise to the room. The scent of chocolate from the girls’ last cup of cocoa lingered on the air along with wood smoke.

It should’ve been perfect, but it wasn’t.

She glanced at Caleb’s empty chair far too often, the seeds of discontent growing. It felt strange to be in the room without him, and knowing he was off dealing with the Talisman family didn’t make it any better.

She prided herself on being a fair judge of character, but she still couldn’t see why Luke was with that woman. He was sharp-witted and entertaining, and headed straight for disaster.

It was time to tell herself to stop being meddlesome. Luke was a grown-ass man. He could make his own mistakes. Just like she could make hers.

Although she was trying hard to avoid the biggest mistake ever—

A shiver ran up her spine as a terrible cry rose from down the hallway, and she was out of her chair and rushing to Emma’s room. There’d been fear and terror in the sound, and she wasn’t sure what she’d find when she entered the room.

What she got was an armful of little girl as Emma launched herself like a projectile missile, tangling herself around Tamara’s neck.

Tamara sat on the bed and patted her back, soothing best she could. Emma clung like a burr, weeping as if her heart was breaking.

Tamara wasn’t sure what to do. She checked for a fever, but other than being hot from crying, the little girl was fine.

But the tears—

Sasha’s fake crying had been easy to ignore because it’d been dramatic and attention seeking. This was as if Emma couldn’t stop herself, but there was nothing she wanted more than to hide away.

“Sweetie. It’s okay. I’ve got you, and you can cry all you want.”

That turned the faucet on higher than a moment before. Quiet, violent tears rocked Emma’s body.

“Oh baby, I don’t know what’s wrong, but I’m here. I’m here.” She caught Emma tighter, one hand cupped around the back of Emma’s head to tuck her little face against Tamara’s neck.

It took a long time before the crying faded to slow, gasping breaths.

They were tangled close, yet Tamara barely heard Emma’s whisper. “Bad dream.”

Such a sweet voice to be so filled with misery.

“It’s over,” Tamara assured her. “Bad dreams can’t hurt you.”

“Hurts inside,” Emma insisted.

Well, there was that. “You’re right. Sometimes bad dreams make us think of things that hurt us, or remind us of sad things.” Tamara pressed her lips to Emma’s cheek and adjusted her to sit more comfortably. “You want to talk about it?”

It was a long shot. The fact Emma had said as much she had was a miracle.

Sure enough Emma shook her head, but her lips quivered and her face scrunched up again.

What was the etiquette for dealing with bad dreams? All Tamara had to go on was how she would’ve dealt with it at the hospital. Working in the children’s ward had always been equal parts heartbreak and reward. Their fears were often caused by not knowing what was about to happen. Or from the pain of treatment—real and vivid horrors no child should ever have to face. Soothing and comforting them, even for a little while, had been worth every minute of Tamara’s effort.

Tamara tucked her fingers under Emma’s chin and lifted until their eyes met. “Was it a scary dream or a bad memory?”

“She’s not my mommy anymore,” Emma gasped before the tears began all over.

Oh my God. Tamara held on tight, rocking gently until the little girl calmed down enough to suck in another rattling gasp. “It’s okay,” Tamara repeated over and over, even though it really wasn’t.

Whatever reasons Wendy had for leaving, Tamara didn’t like her. Not one bit.