"Good. Because you should be frightened. Go to Walter's and stay there until he tells you it's safe to come back home, okay?"

"Bo did you lose all of your moons.h.i.+ne in that fire? Did you lose your money?"

"Emmie, moons.h.i.+ne money needs to be the least of your worries right now. I have got to go. Don't tell anyone we talked tonight, okay?"

Emmie made no promises and he hung up before she had the chance to ask him any more questions. She wandered back upstairs, peering over her shoulder. Rather than feeling more comfortable, her conversation with Bo had left her feeling more unsettled. Why was he so adamant that she didn't come home? In the end she was left with two questions that strained her brain: What did Bo Johnson know, and why did he have so many questions about Silas?

Silas tossed and turned in his bed. The room reminded him of Emmie and her peac.o.c.k feathers. The only peace he had tonight was the knowledge that she was safely at home in Chicago. He would give her a call tomorrow night when she'd had time to calm down. He didn't sleep as well without her. He'd need to get over that. She wasn't likely to spend more than a handful of nights in his arms for the next couple of years. Walter was right. He took too many liberties with her. If she was going to keep a job in education, they'd have to be much more careful. Get it together, Silas. He chastised himself. He was in the middle of a s.h.i.+t-storm here and he was thinking about sleeping with Emmie. What the h.e.l.l was wrong with him?

He rolled over and punched his pillow into a better shape then refocused. Walter Jones. He trusted the man. Well, he trusted him as much as he trusted anyone he wasn't related to. Bo had called Walter this morning. He'd been cryptic. He'd only said things at home weren't safe and he was worried for Millie. He had asked if things got worse if Walter and Mae would keep an eye on Millie. Walter had asked for more details but the only thing he had divulged was his family's moons.h.i.+ne jars had been used to ignite the blaze in their cabin. Although that was not necessarily sound evidence of their involvement. It wasn't uncommon for revenuers to burn down places with the moons.h.i.+ne that had been made there. Since Parbour's family had been working with revenuers it made sense they would have taken a page out of their book. What Silas really wondered was what made Bo question the action? He had to know more than he'd told Walter. When Silas had spoken his concerns aloud, the old man had agreed that Bo likely knew more but he also didn't think that made him guilty of any crime.

Silas rolled over and looked at his younger brother asleep on the bed next to him. Trick had gotten all jumpy at the thought of Millie Johnson in danger. He was not going to be happy when he learned they weren't returning to Bowling Green tomorrow. Both Silas and Al had agreed they needed to get more information about the Bardston fires before he returned home. He also knew there were two police officers in Louisville working with the Parbour family when they baited Emmie and something about that made him feel uneasy. Part of the butcher brothers' complaint had been that police had shown up and swept everything under the rug. Saying the fire had left no evidence to search through. No evidence. No case. He wondered if they were the same men who had arrested Emmie.

Silas remembered that Trick had a friend from Chicago who had joined the force here earlier this year. It was the friend that Trick had planned to use to get onto the force. While he didn't have plans to let his brother join up with the police just yet, he would use that connection. Chris, one of the butcher brothers, was going to meet them at the hotel in the morning. Together he and Trick would head downtown to the station to get a good look at the police officers that had come to the butcher shop. Emmie had given him a vague description of the men who had arrested her. Vague or not, he would take what he had to work with. One way or the other, they would find some answers tomorrow.

Silas's closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. He was tired of this. He used to feel a rush of power when he was helping work on something like this. Now he just felt exhausted and worried for those he cared about. He had too many weaknesses and the biggest one was named Emmie. His last thoughts before he finally drifted off to sleep were of her. Her soft pink lips, her gentle hands, and the way she s.h.i.+ned a ray of light into his dark world.

Chapter Forty-one.

Marco had promised the drive to the Sloan's house would be a short one, because they didn't live far from Louisville. Emmie's stomach rolled. She did not want to meet these people right now. Of all the secrets she'd learned about her past in the last month not a single one of them was good. She was anxious about this whole trip home. She closed her eyes and tried to find a happy memory. Her mind took her back to Silas. He was bent down with the ring that now rested on her right hand, filling her head with lovely promises. Emmie twisted the ring on her finger. Her heart sank. She'd rather have him here with her than have a ring full of promises.

"So is that just a gift or does it come with some kind of string attached?" Marco asked, nodding to her hands. He must have noticed her worrying with it as she thought.

She frowned up at him not exactly sure she liked his tone. "Silas wouldn't give me something with strings attached, Marco."

He grunted in reply. The sound almost came out as a hollow laugh.

"What?" she asked.

"All boys come with strings, Emmie."

Her brows knitted as she thought about his words. That wasn't true, was it? Did all boys come with strings? Bo and Silas were the only two guys she'd ever kissed. Her experience was limited, but she didn't think it was true. She glanced out the window and noticed the hills that were so colorful a month ago had already given way to a shade of barren brown. The once beautiful leaves littered the ground in winter's welcome.

Emmie wondered what landscape she would be seeing this time tomorrow. Bo had asked her to go to Walter's in Louisville. There was no way she could go to Walter's right now. She had decided she needed to do one of two things tomorrow morning: either she needed to head home, find Bo Johnson, and make him spill the beans about what had made him so spooked, or she needed to find Silas and tell him something was going on with Bo. Her heart wanted her to do the second, but her brain told her the first was likely a better plan. She knew Silas would jump to all sorts of conclusions where Bo was involved and she didn't want that to happen.

"I don't guess I've got much right to give you advice on men though," Marco said, breaking her out of her thoughts.

It took her a second to realize what he meant. She didn't say anything; she only nodded in agreement. Marco Del Grande was not anyone she planned to take relations.h.i.+p advice from anytime soon.

"I'm not sure he's who your ma would have picked out for you but he's a good kid I suppose," Marco said, thinking aloud as he turned off the main road and down a dirt path. The car b.u.mped and jerked her from side to side.

"He's a man, not a kid, Marco," Emmie said, holding on to the doorframe to keep from jostling around.

"I suppose he is. I'm not completely sure that they still live here but this town is fairly small. If they don't, whoever lives here know should be able to tell us where to find them," Marco explained as he pulled up to a cabin.

It was an old cabin and she could tell someone had built an addition onto the back. Smoke was billowing up from the chimney. As they stepped out of the car, Emmie could see more smoke coming from behind the house. For a moment Emmie half worried the back of the house was on fire but then she caught the smell. It was early in the morning but whoever lived here had some animal roasting on a spit behind the house. It smelled delicious. They must be planning something special, if they were having a roast in the backyard.

"This is where they live. I'm sure of it," Marco said with a sigh. He popped his neck and led the way up to the house. She noticed the way his body tensed the closer he got to the house.

"How do you know they still live here?" Emmie whispered.

"Smell that? This is the Sloan place. Looks like you are going to see how your mother got to be such a good cook," Marco said, raising his hand to knock on the old wooden door.

He looked over and whispered, "They may not be happy to see me but tell them who you are, if I don't get the chance."

Emmie's eyes went wide with surprise. "Why on earth would you not have the chance?"

Marco didn't get to answer. At that moment the door popped open to reveal a very short woman with a long gray-black braid of hair. Her face was wrinkled and pruned from years in the sun. She squinted and leaned in to get a closer look at Marco. She turned her face to the side without saying a word as if she was trying to place the man standing on her front porch.

"Mrs. Sloan, I'm sorry to come over unannounced-" he started but didn't get the chance to finish.

"Cain, we got a stranger here in a fine suit," the older woman shouted, "and a pretty young lady in fancy clothes. You expecting them folks in your gatherin' today?"

They heard heavy footsteps thunder from the back of the house. Marco took a step back from the doorway. His arm reached out and pushed Emmie back, putting his body in front of hers.

"A finely dressed man is not surprising, but they ain't said nothing about no lady being with 'em," Cain said from the doorway.

She attempted to peek around Marco's shoulder, but he was doing a good job at keeping her body behind his. Emmie realized she should probably feel afraid by the way Marco's body tensed, but she couldn't help but smile. This was the most absurd introduction she had ever heard of.

"Like I was saying, Mr. Sloan, I'm sorry to come by unannounced-" Again Marco didn't get out any other words.

"Go. Get back to your car. We don't cotton to any strangers around here right now," he said.

Marco put his hands up and took a step back, smas.h.i.+ng Emmie's toes in the process. She stumbled and fell out of her father's shadow, finally able to see Cain and Miss Sloan for the first time. She gasped as she saw why he had stepped backward. Cain was holding the biggest knife that Emmie had ever seen in her life. He pointed the knife in the direction of their car. She grabbed Marco's hand.

"Okay, I'm sorry. There must be some mistake," she said pointedly at her father.

These people were a basket of crazy and she didn't want any of what they had to offer. Praise the Lord that her mother had made it away from these people. It might be the only good thing Marco ever did for her mother. He deserved some credit for that at least. She attempted to pull him back but his feet were rooted on the ground. He tilted his head to the side and arched his brow as if to ask her if she was sure. She answered his unspoken question aloud.

"This was just a mistake. We are lost but can see you don't want to be bothered right now." She turned to face Cain and the older woman. "I'm sorry, again."

She and Marco had just started to turn and walk slowly back to the car when Cain spoke. "Wait, girl. Stop right there a second."

His boots thudded the ground in a slow rhythm as he made his way over to her. Grabbing her, he spun her around and looked at her curiously. He took in the sight of her from the tip of her shoes to her eyelashes. Emmie swallowed hard against his stare. She could feel Marco move instinctively closer to her. The man's hand grabbed her so quickly she didn't have to protect herself. His fingers bit her wrist.

"Not so fast, girl," he said, his hoa.r.s.e voice barely above a whisper.

Chapter Forty-two.

Emmie tried to pull her arm away from him but his large, thick fingers had completely encircled her wrist. The large man pulled her into the house. Marco slid through the door behind her before it closed in his face.

"Now Cain, don't you go causing any trouble with this girl," the older woman said, squinting in Emmie's direction. In the doorway Emmie had a.s.sumed the older woman was scrutinizing them, now that she was in the house she realized that this woman was struggling to see.

"Don't you worry, Aunt Eve. These aren't strangers or at least this one ain't," he said, pointing toward Emmie. The pointing she was fine with-the fact that he had a knife in his pointing hand, she was not.

The old woman didn't say a word; she just took a step closer to her and tilted her head to the side trying to get a better look. "Something about her looks familiar, but I'm sorry, Miss, my eyes ain't so good."

"Don't worry, ma'am, we've never met. If I do look familiar-" Emmie was interrupted.

"Oh you and her ain't never met but I know just who you are," Cain said, taking a step closer to her, still pointing with the knife.

Impulsively Emmie took a step back from the man. He wasn't holding it in a position to stab her necessarily, but the way he balanced it in his hand so comfortably made her feel uneasy. That man and his knife were way too friendly with one another. She glanced over at Marco. She wasn't sure if her look said help me or I'm going to kill you for bringing me here. Either way, he got the message. Marco took a step nearer her, but Cain put his free arm out to stop him.

"I remember seeing you just outside of Bowling Green in Richardsville at the Johnson place but you sure looked a lot worse for wear that day. You seem to have healed up right nice," he said, taking in her fancy dress from Silas.

Emmie frowned at his words. She had no recollection of meeting this man at the Johnsons. The man noticed her confusion.

"Course, I ain't surprised you don't remember. Forgive me, Miss, but I didn't get your name," he said with a grin.

"Emma," she said, telling him her given name. "My name is Emma."

"Emma, the last time I seen you, your man was carrying you outta that cabin and loading your broken body in the back of his s.h.i.+ny black automobile," he said loudly.

The cabin. This man had been at the cabin. She tried to take another step backward but couldn't. She was standing with her back to a rocking chair that wouldn't let her move any farther.

He nodded. "That's right, I was there. We are friends of Al DeCarmilla. So we help out his nephew from time to time. Now my question is, why would a pretty little thing like you be traveling here without your man? 'Cause see, that McDowell boy don't seem like one to take his girl on business. Yet there you were in that cabin surrounded by trouble. Then I was thinking you were a girl just needed to be saved. But now you are here with some strange man, an uninvited guest in our house. And of all times for you to be showing up here-when we've got us in the middle of a little territory war. I ain't much of a believer in coincidence, Emma. And you seem to keep showing up when trouble is around."

Emmie's pulse pounded in her temples as pieces of the puzzle fell into place. She was a fool to not expect this. Marco had met her mother through Al. How could she have not put together that the Sloan family was still involved with Al's business? Looking at the knife in his hand, she realized he was involved in an ugly side of Al's business. She looked at the man and tried to place him, but she didn't have any memory of him. He must have come into the cabin after she left.

Emmie reached a hand down to her purse that was dangling on her right shoulder. As she reached down, she felt the cool blade of the man's knife press against her arm. "What are you pulling outta that purse, Emma?"

Emmie froze. Marco tried to move near her again but the man pushed hard against his chest, knocking him to the ground. At that moment the front door flew open. Another man that could have pa.s.sed for Cain's twin came through the door, walking backward.

She gasped loudly as he turned around to face her. He was carrying a half-dressed man whose feet and wrists were bound with thick rope. The man's wild, scared eyes met hers. He attempted to shout something, but his mouth had been gagged so the sound came out as a m.u.f.fled scream. She attempted to move but couldn't. Cain still had the blade of his knife pointed right at her. She shoved the rocking chair that blocked her way with her hip. It slid across the wooden floor giving her just enough s.p.a.ce to move away from Cain. Never mind the picture of her mother she was getting ready to pull from her purse-forget this family. She was out of here. Marco Del Grande could follow her or hang around to catch the show. Emmie scanned the room for another way out but she could see only one exit and that was the door. Her moment of hesitation cost her an escape; his hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her into him. She could feel his knife at her throat.

"Stop. Stop, I can explain why I'm here," she screamed, her voice coming out high pinched and uneven. Marco made a run toward Cain. The other man dropped the half-naked man on the ground and went to restrain Marco. To Marco's credit, he put up a decent fight against the larger, younger man.

"Butcher, drop your knife. Now," a steely voice called from the doorway.

Cain didn't exactly obey the man, but he did pull the knife back so it no longer rested against her throat, his grip still tight around her waist. The man stepped out of the shadow and into the light. Emmie swallowed hard. She wasn't sure which was worse: the feeling of cold steel pressed against her skin or the sight of those piercing gray-blue eyes staring at her incredulously from across the cabin.

"What in the h.e.l.l are you doing here?" he shouted so loudly his words popped in Emmie's ears.

Emmie pulled her eyes away from his and took in the sight of the room. She had been wrong earlier when she said the greeting on the front porch had been the most absurd thing she had experienced. That privilege now belonged to this moment-standing in her mother's family's house, held at knifepoint, while a bound half-naked man wiggled on the floor like a worm. She heard footsteps pound out an angry rhythm as they neared her but she couldn't look away from the man still giving a m.u.f.fled scream on the floor.

"Look. At. Me." Silas reached out with his leather-gloved hand, grabbed her chin, and pulled it up so she could see to his face. As soon as he had a hold of her Cain let go of her waist and took a step back. Clearly he thought he had pa.s.sed her off, sending her to become someone else's problem.

Emmie forced her eyes to look into his. At this moment they looked like storm clouds, dark and angry.

"What in the h.e.l.l are you doing here, Emmie?" he repeated loudly.

She opened her mouth to try and find her voice. "I . . . I just . . ."

He turned and caught sight of Marco for the first time. He let go of Emmie's face and moved to the older man.

"Did you bring her here?" he shouted.

One of the men still standing in the doorway said something, but Emmie couldn't make out the sound. Nothing in this house made sense.

Marco nodded and opened his mouth to explain but Silas's knuckles. .h.i.t the man square in the jaw. Emmie ground her teeth together at the sight. Marco had no choice but to take the punch since he was still being restrained by one of the brothers. Marco's lip busted and blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth.

"Stop this," she shouted, running over to him.

Silas shouted at Marco, "Why would you bring her here?"

Emmie was surprised to find Al at her side. He wrapped his arms around her, tucking her face into his body. "Silas, go outside and cool off."

When Silas started to speak, Al shouted, "Get. Out. Of. This. House."

He turned to Trick, "Do not let your brother back in here until his blood has stopped boiling."

Trick nodded and pushed Silas out the door. Al released his grip on Emmie's head. He pulled her away, his hands framing her face. Bending down so he could see her eyes he asked, "Do you know who these people are?"

She nodded, unable to find her voice.

Al turned to face his friend. "You're timing has always left something to be desired, Marco."

Chapter Forty-three.

"You," Al put his finger out at Marco who was pulling himself off the ground, "explain to them why you are here, now."

Emmie glanced out the window. She caught sight of Silas pacing the porch like a caged animal. Then she turned back to Marco.