Her voice sounded wooden as she said, "Mother."

"Don't you call me that," her mother sneered, and Emma saw that familiar ugliness in her brown eyes, in the dark shadows beneath, in the pasty sheen of her skin and the spittle at the side of her mouth.

"All right." Sick dread churned in her belly. She knew her mother would humiliate them both. What she didn't know was how to deal with it. As a child, she'd begged, hidden, run away. But she wasn't a child any longer, and her mother was now her responsibility.

"A daughter would have come to see me by now. You know I'm all alone. You know I needed you. But no. You're too good for that, aren't you?"

"You have my number," Emma reasoned. "You could have-" No. Emma stopped herself. She knew from long experience that there was no reasoning with her mother in this condition. It would be a waste of breath to even try, and would only prolong the uncomfortable confrontation. "Why don't I take you home?"

"Oh no, missy. I don't d.a.m.n well wanna go home now." She took an unsteady step forward. "I want you to take me to the store, and then we're goin' to the hospital to see Dell."

Emma's heart nearly stopped. Take her mother to the hospital? Not while she was drunk. "I won't buy you alcohol." She didn't bother to reply to her other request.

Her mother looked stunned at that direct refusal. Her eyes widened, her mouth moved. Finally, she yelled, "You just get me there and I'll buy it myself. I'm worried about your father and sick at heart and G.o.d knows my only daughter doesn't give a d.a.m.n." As she spoke, she tottered around the table toward Emma. Ashes fell from the cigarette, which was now little more than a b.u.t.t.

Just as she'd done so many times in the past, Emma braced herself, emotionally, physically. Even so, she had a hard time staying upright when her mother's free hand knotted in the front of her shirt and she stumbled into her. "You'll take me," she hissed, her breath tainted with the sickly sweet scent of booze and the thickness of smoke, "or I'll tell everyone what you did."

A layer of ice fell over Emma's heart. It was now or never, and she simply couldn't take it anymore. "What you did, you mean."

The shock at her defiance only lasted a moment. "No one will believe that." Her mother laughed, and tugged harder on Emma's shirt. "You, with your d.a.m.n reputation. You don't have any friends around here. Even that nosy sheriff was always checking up on you. He'll believe whatever I tell him. And you'll go to jail-"

"I'll take my chances."

Enraged, her mother drew back to strike Emma, but her hand was still in the air when Casey pulled Emma back and into his side. Her mother's swing, which would have left a bruise, given the force she'd put behind it, missed the mark by over a foot and threw her off balance. She turned a half circle and landed hard on her hands and knees in the rough gravel. Her cigarette fell to the side, still smoldering.

Emma had automatically reached out to break her fall, but she pulled back. She could feel Casey breathing hard beside her, knew he was disgusted and shocked at the scene a a scene he'd probably never witnessed in his entire life, but that was all too familiar to Emma.

B.B. went berserk, barking and snarling, and Emma, feeling numb, caught his collar to restrain him. She whispered, to the dog, soothing him while staring down at the woman who'd birthed her. She waited to see what else she'd do. Her mother could be so unpredictable at times like this.

But she stayed there, her head drooping forward while she gathered herself. Eight years had apparently taken a toll on her too. When she twisted around to look up at Casey, it was with confusion and anger. "Who the h.e.l.l are you?"

Thinking to protect Casey, Emma said, "He's the sheriff's nephew."

"And," Casey added, his own anger barely under control, "I heard everything you just said."

Slumping back on her behind, slack-jawed, her mother stared from Casey to Emma and back again. Slowly, her lips curled and she pointed at Emma. "Did she tell you what she did? Do you know?" She hunted for her cigarette, picking it up and using it to light another that she fetched from her pocket. She took a long draw, looking at Casey through a stream of smoke. "She tried to burn down the diner."

Emma closed her eyes on a wave of stark pain. She'd held a faint, ridiculous hope that her mother wouldn't take it that far, that she'd only been bl.u.s.tering. That somehow she'd care just a little about her only child.

Barely aware of Casey taking her hand, Emma sorted through her hurt, pushing aside what she could to deal with the situation at hand. Mrs. Reider didn't deserve this scene. She ran a respectable business in a dry county. Having a drunken argument in her lot would probably go down as one of the worst things imaginable.

Slowly, Ceily came up to Emma's other side. She wasn't looking at Mrs. Clark, but at Emma. "You're the one who called and reported the fire that night, aren't you?"

It was so d.a.m.n difficult, but Emma forced herself to face Ceily. When she spoke, she was pleased that she sounded strong, despite her suffocating guilt. "Yes. I'm sorry. It's all very complicated and I didn't mean for any of it to happen..."

"Your mother started it?"

Amazed that Ceily had come to that conclusion without further explanation, it took Emma a few moments to finally nod.

"That's a lie!"

Ceily ignored her mother's loud denials, speaking only to Emma. "Why? I barely knew your folks."

It would help, Emma thought, if she had a good solid reason to give, some explanation that would make sense. She didn't have one. "You weren't a target, Ceily. The diner is just the first place she came to where she thought she might find either a drink or money to go get a drink."

Ceily shook her head. "But I don't serve alcohol, and I cash out every night before closing up."

"I know. And if she'd been thinking straight, she might have realized it too. But alcoholism...it's a sickness and when you want to drink, nothing else matters..."

Her mother began protesting again, her every word sc.r.a.ping along Emma's nerves until she wanted to cover her ears, run away again. But she no longer had that luxury. She had to deal with this. "She broke in, and things went from bad to worse...I didn't know what to do."

Damon stepped up and looped his arms around Ceily so that she leaned into his chest. It dawned on Emma that Ceily didn't look accusatory as much as curious. Of course, her reaction would have been vastly different eight years ago, the night it had all happened. The shock, the anger and hurt had likely been blunted by time.

"How did you find her?" Ominous overtones clouded Casey's softly asked question.

Emma winced. Because the fire and Emma's visit to his house had happened on the same night, Casey had a right to his suspicions. "Earlier that day, I'd convinced my father that we had to stand together, to get her help. It was the worst argument we'd ever had. She was furious, and...I couldn't take it. So I went out. But I always cut through town coming home." Here Emma gave an apologetic shrug to Casey. "Your uncle had warned me that he'd run me into juvenile if he caught me out so late again."

"He worried about you," Casey told her with a frown.

"I know." Emma smiled, though she felt very sad that only a stranger had worried, and only because it had been his job. "I came home behind the businesses, as usual, because that way I was less likely to be seen from the street. I found my mom coming out of the back of the diner, and I realized what she was doing. Then I smelled the smoke."

"She'd already started the fire?"

"Not on purpose. It was her cigarette, but..." Wanting to finish it, Emma rushed through the rest of her words. "The fire was small at first and I tried to put it out. But she kept fighting me, wanting us to leave before we got caught."

"Dear G.o.d," Casey muttered, and he glared at her mother, who gave him a mutinous look back.

Emma spoke to Ceily. "I knew I couldn't do that. I told her she needed help and that I thought you might let her just pay for the damages if she agreed to go to the hospital for treatment. But she didn't believe me and when I finally got the call through, she..."

"She threatened to blame you?" Casey asked.

Emma turned to him. "Yes. She said she'd tell everyone that I did it. I was...scared. I wasn't sure who might believe her."

"No one would have."

"You might not have blamed me, but-"

"I wouldn't have either," Ceily said.

Damon leaned around to look at Ceily, slowly smiled at her, then gave her a tight squeeze.

Emma couldn't believe they were being so nice. In so many ways, it might have been easier for her if they'd hated her and what she'd done. "I'm doubly sorry then, because I was a coward. The fire was already out of control. I made the call anonymously, went home with my mother and...things got out of control."

"That's how you got beat up that night, isn't it?" He sounded furious and pained and...hurt? Because she'd been hurt? She glanced at him, but didn't reply because she didn't want to involve him further. "I made plans to leave."

"You came to me."

She shook her head at Casey. He couldn't seem to get beyond that, and she was beginning to think he put far too much emphasis on that one small fact. "With the intent of only staying one night."

"If I'd known that, you never would have gotten away."

"I had to leave. If I'd stayed until morning when everyone started talking about the fire, well, someone would have figured it out. Then I wouldn't have had the option to go."

He scowled, crossing his arms over his chest and appearing very displeased with her a.s.sessment. "How the h.e.l.l did you get out of town so fast anyway?"

Knowing he wouldn't like the answer, Emma winced again. "I hitchhiked once I got on the main road. Neither Morgan nor his deputy saw me, of course, because they were still busy with the fire. With a lift from two different drivers, I got as far as Cincinnati, then caught a bus the rest of the way into Chicago."

Ceily stared at her in horror. "Dear G.o.d. You could have been-"

Damon interrupted Ceily. "But she wasn't. Instead, she found my family and she's now a part of us." He reached out and touched Emma's chin. "And she's suffered a lot over this."

"Damon, don't make excuses for me, please. I should have told the truth long ago. I should never have lied in the first place."

Damon, still holding Ceily at his side, addressed both her and Casey. "It took her a few years to get her life in order. After that, she thought about coming home and confessing all a she honestly did. But her father would beg her not to, and with so much time already pa.s.sed..."

Emma laced her hands together. "I couldn't bear the thought of my mother going to jail."

Her mother shoved to her feet, outraged by the mere suggestion. "No one is taking me anywhere! I didn't do anything. It was you."

Casey shared a look with Ceily, then received her nod. "No, you won't be going to jail. It was an accident, not arson. And even with the breaking and entering, well, it's been eight years. I'm sure the limitations on that have run out."

Emma was agog, her mother smug.

"But...won't the insurance company want their money back? I know there was a lot of internal damage."

Her mother grabbed Emma's arm in a viselike grip. "Shut your mouth, girl."

Casey stepped forward, but Emma stopped him with one look. She had avoided dealing with her mother for too long. When she'd been a child, she'd had an excuse. But as an adult... It was past time she took responsibility for what she'd done, and forced her mother to do the same. "You're going to get help."

"I don't need any help."

For the very first time in over a decade, Emma felt nothing. Not hurt, not need, not even compa.s.sion. "It's possible that legal charges might not apply anymore. But there are other things to consider now. Daddy's stroke is serious. If and when he's able to leave the hospital, I'm taking him with me."

"Whaddya mean, 'with you'? He's my husband!"

"And he's my father. He needs someone who can take care of him, not the other way around. He'll need therapy and supervision and encouragement. You're not capable of any of that, so until you get help, get sober, and stay that way, you're on your own."

The fingers on her arm grew slack, then fell away. "You can't do that." Her whisper was rough with shock.

"Of course I can." Emma swept her arm around the lot. "Thanks to this visit, there are more than enough people who now know that you're incapable of taking care of yourself, much less someone in need of medical attention."

Damon, Ceily and Casey, along with Mrs. Reider and a half-dozen motel guests made up an audience. Two cars had stopped on the road, having also noticed the spectacle unfolding in the motel lot. In a town as quiet as Buckhorn, it didn't take too much to get the gossip going. She wouldn't be surprised to see the whole thing written up as front-page news in the Buckhorn press tomorrow morning. In the past, that would have devastated her, leaving her curled up with shame. Now, she just wanted things resolved.

"Emma?" Ceily smiled at her. "There was never an insurance claim made. I didn't want my premium to go up, and I'd been planning to renovate anyway, after Granddad turned the place over to me completely. So I used the money I'd saved and fixed it up with a lot of help from Gabe and volunteers from the town."

Nodding, Emma said, "I'll reimburse you."

"No, you won't." She turned to Mrs. Clark, who stared blankly down at her feet. "But your mother can pay me one fourth of the money I spent, since there were some things I wouldn't have replaced if it hadn't been for the smoke and fire damage."

"I don't have that kind of money," her mother whispered, looking very lost and confused by it all.

Ceily shrugged. "So get a job. I'll let you make installments."

Her mother's look of horror was almost comical.

"They have a drug abuse and alcohol treatment facility at the hospital," Casey offered, speaking to Emma, not her mother. "We can take her there now." He looked as though he wanted to rid himself of her as fast as possible.

Sadly, Emma now felt the same. Years ago, she'd have done anything to help forge a normal relationship with her mother. She'd begged her, during her sober moments, to get professional a.s.sistance. But whenever she was sober, her mother always thought she had control over her drinking. She'd agree to quit, and mean it. But her resolve never lasted and Emma had long since grown tired of her mother's refusal to admit to her sickness.

However, what Emma had said was true a this time she would take her father away if her mother didn't get help. "Mother? What do you say? And before you agree or disagree, you should know I'm either taking you to the rehab facility, or leaving you here. Those are your options. If you stay, I have no doubt Mrs. Reider will give the sheriff a call, and you may well end up with court-ordered rehab anyway."

Her mother stared at her, looking much like a lost child. She was breathing hard, fighting tears, but Emma also knew an excess of emotion came with alcoholism, so she stiffened her spine and waited. Finally her mother nodded, surprising Emma, giving her hope.

"Listen, doll," Damon said quietly, "she's nothing to you now."

Emma knew that wasn't true. A parent was a parent, good or bad, and she would make the best of this. She turned to Damon and offered him a slight smile. "She's my mother." Then she added with a sigh, "And she got us kicked out of here. Mrs. Reider wants us gone as soon as possible."

Damon groaned. Her mother looked away. Mrs. Reider hovered in the doorway, appearing impatient a and curious since she couldn't hear what was being said.

Ceily and Casey spoke at the same time. "You can stay with me." Then they both blinked, and Casey added, "Ceily, honey, you're more than welcome to Damon. By all means, take him. But Emma and B.B. are coming with me."

Ceily hugged onto Damon's arm. "Works for me." Emma looked at Damon, who grinned and shrugged. "Sounds like it's all planned out, doll. That is, if you're okay with it."

Casey waited with a sort of tense antic.i.p.ation they could all feel. But Emma had few choices, and she wanted to be with him. So she nodded. "Thank you."

EMMA WAS SO QUIET Casey couldn't help but worry. Getting her mother to the rehab center had taken far longer, and been more complicated, than he'd antic.i.p.ated. But throughout it all, Emma had kept her shoulders squared, her emotions in check, and her determination at the fore. She was amazing.

After her mother had willingly signed herself in, Emma made plans to bring some of her things to her. She'd be at the facility for an undetermined length of time, but she'd start dependency counseling right away. Because leaving meant she'd likely lose her husband, she looked resigned to staying. She'd also asked, in a small, fretful voice, if Emma would visit her.

Emma had agreed, but there'd been no embrace between mother and daughter. For her part, Emma appeared motivated by pity for the woman who'd never been a real mother to her. She'd also been so distant, not touching Casey, hardly even looking at him. Casey didn't push her. She needed some private time to come to grips with everything, but under the circ.u.mstances that was tough to find. Mrs. Reider's was the only motel in Buckhorn, and any other lodging would put her too far away from her father. Though he wished this were easier on her, Casey was glad she'd be with him, even if it wasn't by choice.

It hadn't taken them long to pack her and Damon's things. While Emma stood by without saying a word, Casey had called ahead to his father to fill him in on the situation. Emma's silence hurt him, because he knew she was hurting. Dealing with her troubles was hard enough, but broadcasting those troubles to the whole town would be nearly impossible to take. Casey feared he'd just lost a lot of headway in convincing her to stay in Buckhorn.

Damon and Ceily were there when Casey pulled down the long driveway. Damon had used the excuse of bringing Emma's car to her, but Casey suspected he also wanted to see her settled. Thankfully, the kids were out of sight, but Sawyer and Morgan, Misty and Honey all waited for them. When Casey stopped the car at the side of the house, his relatives moseyed inside to give them some privacy.

Casey turned off the engine. "You okay?"

It took her a moment, then she said, "It's strange, but mostly what I feel is relief that it's all out in the open. At least now I can deal with it."

Casey nodded. He could understand that. "It'll be okay."

Her laugh sounded a little watery, too close to tears, before she rubbed her face and drew herself together. "Looks like I'll be spending even more time visiting hospitals, huh?"

Jaw locked, Casey reached for her hand. "You owe her nothing." Far as he could tell, all her mother had ever given her was grief.

"I owe this town. I owe Ceily."

"You didn't cause the damage."