Love Her Softly

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

Emma shivered upon the dirt floor of her father's shack. Fear, pain and cold had her body wracking as she wrapped her arms tight around herself and watched the angry giant pace.

"All these years, I've provided fer ya, cared fer ya, made sure ya had food and clothes and how do ya repay me?" he snarled. He walked close and stooped low, the scent of liquor thick on his breath. "By turnin' into a whore! A jezebel! Runnin' away from me when I needed ya most and spreadin' yer legs for a valley man!"

Emma knew that nothing she said would ease his temper. There was no way to reason with Silas Hawke when he was in a drunken rage.

Her father let out another angry growl and swung his hand, catching her sharply on the jaw.

Emma let out a whimpering cry as her body was tossed sideways. She curled into herself upon the floor and sobbed into the dirt. There was not a place on her body that did not hurt. Her father's angry fists and feet had shown her no mercy.

Her gaze kept returning to the exact spot on the shack floor where her mother had died. Was that to be her fate as well?

As her father moved away and resumed his agitated pacing, Emma closed her eyes and tried to block out the pain. An image of Liam flashed through her mind.

No doubt the man was frantic with worry but Emma doubted he would find her in time. She was almost certain her father had killed Chase and so there would be no one to tell Liam who had taken her.

Feeling despair threatening to overtake her, Emma forced her mind to other things. She thought of the life she'd been building. Anita, Lauren and Sally. She thought about the reading lessons she would never finish. The pies she would never bake.

She thought of Liam and wondered what could have happened for them. What would their future have been had her father not found her?

A faint smile curved her lips as Emma thought about the dance. The way Liam had seemed so proud and happy to be holding her close and spinning her around. She thought of the way he had looked at her—she'd felt truly special and cherished all evening.

And she hadn't been nearly as afraid as she thought she would be. Chase and Kyle had been good men, just as Liam had said, and everyone at the dance had been cordial and polite. No one had judged her or hated her simply because she was an outsider—no one, that is, except Bethany.

Anger began to fill her.

Emma did not want to die.

She wanted to go back to the life she'd been building. Back to her friends and back to Liam.

What right did her drunk of a father have to take that away from her?

Slowly, achingly, Emma pushed herself to her feet, using the rough wall behind her to take pressure from her trembling legs. She edged toward the door. Emma had no doubt that she was not strong enough to make it off the mountain.... She would die out there in her attempt to escape.

But at least she would die fighting for her freedom. She would not simply allow this man—or any man—to take her life without a fight.

Emma was barely able to take more than three wobbly steps before her father turned and snarled. "Where do ya think yer goin'?"

"Back....." Emma voice trembled and she took a deep breath, certain her heart was going to pound clear out of her chest. "I'm...g...goin' back to town."