Emma Blooms At Last by Naomi King

Author:Naomi King
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2014-10-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Jerome thought he’d been hearing things. Was that Emma accusing Bess of throwing herself at him? He wanted to shout hallelujah, because the one person whose opinion mattered had seen the Wengerd women for who they were: fortune hunters. These two females had nothing better to do than kiss up to him, thinking that if Bess couldn’t lure him back with her looks, then Mabel would shame him into feeling sorry for their bereavement.

But Bess wasn’t finished yet. “Seems to me the choice is yours, Jerome,” she said in a cloying voice. “You know we had a gut love between us—that God Himself brought us together. So why are you wasting your time with Emma?”

The two young women were now facing him—one a blue-eyed blonde and the other a compelling brunette all dressed in black—their arms crossed as they awaited his answer. He could only hope this agonizing moment would settle the situation once and for all.

Jerome cleared his throat. “God may have brought us together a couple of years ago, Bess,” he replied firmly, “but your mamm drove us apart. I saw that our marriage wouldn’t stand a chance because of her interfering ways, so I ducked out. Not very nice of me, but there it is. The truth.”

Bess’s eyes got as round as the full moon. Then her chin began to quiver. “Jerome, I can’t believe you’d say such a thing about Mamma,” she wheedled. “It’s you and I who’d be getting hitched—”

“Stop right there.” Jerome held out his hand. “I’ve said all I’m going to say, and my answer is no, Bess. So don’t embarrass us both by playing any more games.”

Thank goodness she took the hint this time. As Bess left the pottery workroom, Jerome knew his rejection would come back to haunt him once Mabel heard what he’d done. But that didn’t bother him. At long last, he was alone with Emma Graber, the way he’d hoped to be all day.

Here was a woman who could indeed speak her mind, with a strength he hadn’t anticipated. Apparently Emma liked him more than she’d been letting on—or at least she refused to stand by and watch the Wengerds humiliate him.

“Denki, Emma,” he whispered.

Emma held his gaze, yet she appeared as dumbfounded as he about what had just happened. “You probably think I’m a buttinsky busybody, telling Bess—”

“Nothing’s gained by tiptoeing around the fact that I’ll never be happy with Bess,” Jerome insisted. “And I’m grateful that you saw through that kiss. I can’t believe she’d stoop so low, which means she’s getting . . . desperate. Sad, jah, but it’s not a situation I’ll be fixing.”

Emma’s tremulous smile did funny, wonderful things to his insides. Jerome held out his hand and was gratified when she took hold of it.

“I used to want . . . I needed to hear—from you, rather than the gossips—about why you broke up with two other girls you were engaged to,” Emma said in a low voice. “It was worrisome,

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