Chapter Seven

Emma hurried down the stairs of her home. Who could be here so early, she wondered? She yanked the door open and gave the man in front of her a warm smile. “Morning, Michael,” she said warmly. “Come in, have a cup of coffee.”

Michael Washington held his hat in his hand. “I’m sorry to trouble you so early,” he said apologetically. “It’s just.” He stopped, twisting the brim of his hat.

“Is something wrong?” Emma asked, her eyes filling with concern. Jimmy had been drug home, literally, last night. Maybe Priscilla had been upset by the evening’s events. Or, she thought, maybe it was Lorna. Cody had not come home with the rest of them. She frowned, chiding herself for not asking the rest of her brood where Cody was, and with whom. Sitting with Sam as he watched the black-haired fella who had called Jimmy out last night had occupied her evening.

“Is Priscilla here?” Michael whispered.

“Here?” Emma raised her brows, her eyes wide with surprise. What was Michael implying?

“She is a mite headstrong. I apologize -”

“Michael,” Emma interrupted. Did he think Priscilla was here? With Jimmy? Priscilla Washington?

As far as she knew, Priscilla led a fairly sheltered life. There had been some talk about a year back about Priscilla and one of the O’Brian boys. But she always heard about the O’Brian boys. If it wasn’t one, then the other was up to something. Emma had not thought much of it. It did not seem terribly scandalous as she recalled. But she had been busy then. That talk had occurred when Sam first came to town and was trying to romance her. “Jimmy came home early last -”

“Then I should apologize. Priscilla had no cause to treat -”

“Jimmy was called out,” Emma cut Michael off again. “Teaspoon and Kid brought him home and Sam made sure that the fella who called him out left town. I stayed with Sam.” She shook her head. “I’m the one who should apologize to you. None of us thought about how Priscilla would get home.”

“I’m sure you thought she would come with her sister,” Michael said tiredly. Emma saw the strain in his eyes. Raising six children alone would be a daunting task for anyone, she thought, her heart filling with sympathy for the man in front of her. “Lorna and William went off on their own. Against my expressed wishes,” he added defeatedly. “And now I don’t know where Priscilla is. If she isn’t here…” His words trailed off.

“Don’t you fret.” Emma patted Michael on the arm. “You come in, have some coffee and I’ll send the boys out. She’s probably just walking home. Maybe she stopped to see a friend,” she added hopefully.

“Maybe,” Michael said but it was plain to see that he was not reassured by Emma’s words.