Free With a Little Help by Valerie Parv Page B

been about to risk hers.
    He hoped Luke had learned something tonight, or would after the day behind bars his father had planned for him. Tough love, Nate thought. Was there any other kind?
    He poured a stiff Scotch, but let it sit beside Emma’s envelope as he threw himself onto his favorite leather chaise, one of the few pieces of furniture the decorator had recommended that accommodated his long legs. He couldn’t remember when he’d felt more tired or less ready for sleep.
    With a sigh he reached for the envelope. As he flipped through the folder, he was impressed by the pains she’d taken, not only in planning the menu, but in suggesting how the event should be stage-managed to best effect.
    He’d barely started reading when the print blurred before his eyes. Massaging his temples didn’t help. He became aware of how silent the house was. Joanna preferred not to live in, and had left for the night. Normally, Nate enjoyed the quiet, but tonight he felt lonely. He tried not to picture Emma curled at the other end of the couch, and was irritated at how easily her image filled his mind. No way would he see her there in his lifetime.
    With good reason. He remembered only too well the many nights his mother had sat up waiting for his father, while dinner shriveled along with the love his parents had once shared. The memory was still in Nate’s mind as he drifted off, the folder open on his knees and the drink untouched.
    Â 
    E MMA’S THOUGHTS WERE in overdrive. She’d changed into lounging pajamas and was stretched out on the sofa with a mug of chamomile tea, trying to unwind enough for bed. Shopping at the markets for fresh ingredients for the bowlers’ club lunch felt like days ago instead of first thing this morning. Between helping prep the food, and working up the proposal for Nate, she’d put in a full day, and that was before doing his seven-kilometer walk.
    Not that she’d done herself much good. He’d invited her along for his convenience, not because he wanted her company. It wasn’t—couldn’t be—personal. Her mother thought he was ideal husbandmaterial, but like all the medical types Emma knew, Nate was already married to his work. All the same, his rejection of her family-dinner concept had singed her pride.
    But he cared enough about his half brother to go off into the night to find him. She sipped her tea. His anguish had been genuine, and for Luke rather than himself. The contrast between Nate’s concern and her father’s coldness the day she got lost in the bush was impossible to ignore.
    She glanced at the Marilyn Monroe clock on the wall, the movie legend’s white skirt forever billowing as time marched past her. It was midnight but Emma wouldn’t sleep until she knew what had happened with Luke. Until she knew Nate was safe. She chased that thought away and picked up the phone.
    Several rings later, she was about to hang up when he answered, “Hale speaking.”
    She recognized his surgeon’s voice. He probably thought someone from the hospital was calling. “It’s Emma,” she said quickly. “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”
    â€œI was reading your proposal. I didn’t realize I’d dozed off.”
    Flattery will get you everywhere, she thought, miffed that her work had managed to put him to sleep. “I gather the crisis with Luke is over.” She had trouble keeping the hurt out of her voice. “I’ll call back another time.”
    â€œIt’s okay, I’m awake now.”
    She imagined him rubbing his chin between thumb and forefinger in a gesture she already knew was characteristic. “I only wanted to see if you found Luke.” And to know you were okay.
    â€œYeah, I found him.” He paused and she heard ice clink in a glass. “Luckily before he and two of his gang robbed a convenience store.”
    â€œYou didn’t try to stop them on your