Twice Blessed by Jo Ann Ferguson Page B

damp stockings sticking straight out past the cushions. Emma guessed the little girl was no more than five years old. One black braid flowed down her back, and she twisted the other in her fingers.
    Gently Emma took her hands and bent so her eyes were level with the child’s. “Your name is Belinda, right?”
    â€œYes, ma’am,” she whispered. “How is Fuzzball? Is he going to die?”
    â€œFuzzball is going to be fine, but you’ll have to let him rest a lot in the next two or three weeks. He has to get better slowly.”
    â€œHe isn’t going to die then, is he?”
    She smiled her thanks to Sean as he held out two towels. Handing one to Noah, she dropped the other one on Belinda’s head. The little girl abruptly giggled.
    Noah’s stern face eased, and Emma could not mistake the love he had for this child. Was that the reason he had come all the way from his farm in the middle of a rainy night to find help for the dog? His gaze turned toward her. His eyes narrowed. She wanted to ask him if he was distressed because she had witnessed his feelings for his child. That would only start another argument, and she was too tired for that tonight.
    â€œNo, Belinda, he isn’t going to die,” she said as she rubbed the child’s wet hair gently. “He shall be right as rain in no time.”
    â€œGood, because I don’t want Papa to have to shoot that mean old Mr. Murray.”
    â€œBelinda!” Noah said, embarrassment filling his voice. “She’s just distressed, Emma. She doesn’t mean what she’s saying.”
    Emma straightened and smiled. Handing the damp towel to Sean, she thanked him before saying, “I understand. If …”
    Her smile fell away before Noah’s candid stare. It reminded her that she was wearing nothing but her nightdress. Its muslin did more to emphasize her curves than to hide them. A grin edged along his lips, and his eyes began to twinkle as they had when he had leaned toward her behind the counter in the store. A flush swept over her, warming her and making her aware of every inch of herself … and him. She had thought he was about to kiss her then. And now?
    When he took a step toward her, she edged back. She did not know this man well, but surely he would not do anything inappropriate in front of his own child. Would he? She knew how poor a judge of character she was. Her kind heart had betrayed her before.
    He reached out, and she struggled not to scream. She was not sure who, other than the children, would hear her in the middle of the night.
    â€œAllow me, Emma,” he said with a chuckle.
    Heat slapped her face as he settled the coverlet on her shoulders as if it were a fine silk cloak. As his fingers smoothed the layers of fabric along her shoulders, his breath coursed through her hair, grazing her cheek in an invitation she doubted he intended.
    She had not realized he was so tall until they stood here in her cozy house. His chin could rest on the top of her head, but as he bent toward her, she could see nothing but those earth-brown eyes.
    â€œThank you, Noah.” She looked at the little girl, who was staring down at her dog. There had been much talk at the store about a widower and his child who had moved onto the farm a few weeks ago. She wondered why no one had mentioned how good looking Noah was. Maybe because he had infuriated all his neighbors already.
    He glanced at the dog. “I appreciate your taking care of this emergency for us in the middle of the night. When Fuzzball came home all bloody, I wasn’t sure who could help. I remembered someone talking about your tending to one of their animals.”
    â€œHow did Fuzzball—” She smiled, as he did, when she spoke the silly name. “How did he get shot? Belinda said something about Mr. Murray. Do you—”
    â€œCan we talk somewhere without little ears listening to every word?”
    As he waited for