Come Rain or Shine (Shine On Series, Book Three)
Come Rain or Shine
Allison Jewell
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2013 Allison Jewell
Kindle Edition
Cover design by RBA Designs. Stock photo © llaszlo | BigStock.com
For my mom, Jamie, who is strength personified.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-one
Chapter Forty-two
Chapter Forty-three
Chapter Forty-four
Chapter Forty-five
Chapter Forty-six
Chapter Forty-seven
Chapter Forty-eight
Chapter Forty-nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-one
Chapter Fifty-two
Chapter Fifty-three
Chapter Fifty-four
About the Author
The Shine On Series
Connect with Allison on Substance B
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I could not have created this book without the help of several people. Thank you to Daniel for always believing in me; to Jamie, Nick, Renetta, and Bobby for your unyielding support, to Karen Lawson and Janet Hitchcock, my very talented editors, and Letitia Hasser, my amazing cover artist; to Paul and everyone at BB eBooks for all of the hard work, guidance, and patience in getting these books formatted and ready for publication; to Candle Makers on the Square in Bowling Green for taking a chance on a new author, to Kerry, Christine, Donna, Tandy, Charlotte, Frieda, Reneé, Ronann, Shellie, and all of my wonderful teacher friends for your amazing support in this writing adventure. Also, thank you to all of my readers for allowing me to share Silas and Emmie’s story with you; to Jen for being an inspiration; to my dear friend and fellow author Laramie Briscoe for sharing coffee, hugs, and laughs each step along the way; to Mindy, Esther, Allie, Kathy, and Tracey for the constant encouragement to keep writing; to the members of my writing group for sharing your wealth of knowledge; to my wonderful grandparents for your love and faith in me; to my sweet boys, Elijah and Jonah, for never failing to amaze me with your sense of wonder, and to my big brother, Chris, for making all of those mason jar cups for my signings and never failing to be the person I’ve always looked up to. I couldn’t have done this without you. Thank you.
Chapter One
The city was different. It looked different. It smelled different. It felt different. Even in the middle of the night, it was different. It had a heartbeat, a rhythm that pounded faster than the rhythm at home. It wasn’t bad. Emmie took a deep breath and watched the view from the window. She’d only slept a few hours. The sun was just starting to rise over the horizon. Well, she assumed it was starting to rise because the sky was getting lighter. She couldn’t see a darn thing but a few streets and the tall brick neighboring buildings. There was no horizon in the city.
Her attention turned to the street again. Even this early, there were people out. Cleaning, emptying trash, walking God-knows-where for God-knows-what. Emmie smiled to herself. She thought only farmers got up this early and there wasn’t a farmer in sight here. Shivering as a draft of cool air moved through the window and chilled her to the bone, she pulled the quilt up around her shoulders. She wasn’t sure the clothes Silas had packed for her would be warm enough. Of course, Emmie had no cash of her own to buy more. She had made sure that every penny they’d earned from that last batch of apple pie moonshine had gone to Walter and Max. Silas hadn’t even fought with her about taking her part. When he’d mentioned to her she might keep a little of the cash for her own needs, he said it as an afterthought. He knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t want the money.
Emmie moved to the fireplace and sat on the floor at the foot of the smoldering blaze. The fire was beautiful. Its light shined in odd patterns across the bedroom causing shadows to dance along the walls. Her face warmed. She closed her eyes and soaked in the feeling. Emmie rubbed her feet on the plush rug under her. She had never felt anything so soft. The bed creaked behind her and she grinned. His footsteps were soft and quiet as he padded over to her.
“What is wrong?” he asked, squinting his eyes against the blaze.
Emmie laughed. “Nothing. I’m just not sleepy. Go back to bed.”
Silas frowned and rubbed his face. She’d never seen him so tired. He rubbed his bare arms and squatted down next to her. “Em, it’s freezing. Come back to bed.”
She sighed loudly and smiled. Emmie reached up and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m fine. I’ll be there shortly.”
He groaned and stretched out on the carpet next to her and closed his eyes. After a second he squinted them open again and tugged at the quilt. “You could at least share your blanket.”
Emmie laughed. He was being ridiculous. “Why are you not in the bed?”
He stayed on the floor for a moment without answering. When he did move it was so fast she didn’t see it coming. She winced as she landed on top of him, grabbing her ribs. They were better but not healed. His playful pull had hurt like the dickens.
“Oh,” he swore, “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” His hand reached under the blanket and grabbed her abdomen. He could feel the bandages through the thin material of the nightgown. “I wasn’t thinking.”
Silas gently rolled her over onto her stomach and kissed the still healing rib. When Emmie closed her eyes she remembered the way it felt as Steven took her down to the ground, feeling isolated in the cabin, the sight of Mr. Thomas lying on the ground in a pool of blood.
“Emmie, look at me,” Silas said, staring down at her. He cupped her cheek with his large hand. “You are here, with me.”
Her eyes came into focus and she saw him above her. Shadows from the firelight licked up his back and arms. Emmie nodded and swallowed hard as the panicked feeling left her. She relaxed and released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding then shook her head.
“I’m fine. Sorry, I just,” she said, trailing off, “I don’t know why but when I hit the ground my mind flashed . . .”
“Shh,” he frowned down at her, “don’t. Don’t
talk about it. I don’t want you to think about it. I am so sorry.”
She gave him a reassuring smile, “No, I’m fine. It’s fine.”
He adjusted his body so he lay at her side and rested his forehead against her cheek. “It’s not fine. I shouldn’t have . . .” he started but trailed off. He wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence. A moment of silence passed in the comment’s wake.
“Silas, why are we lying on the floor?” she asked.
“I believe you are the one who took this party to the floor,” he said without humor.
She laughed. “I didn’t mean for it to be a party.”
“This is likely our only night together for a while. I’m not spending it away from you,” he said, looking at her.
His eyes were shining a beautiful blue-green tonight. A shadow of a beard darkened his jaw. Emmie thought of Gabe’s reaction when Silas had told him they would be staying at his apartment until morning. All of them.
“I don’t think Gabe is happy that I’m staying here tonight.” Emmie worried with her bottom lip then she spoke, “I hate to upset him. He seems to have so much pressure on him lately.”
“Gabe needs to keep his nose in his own business,” Silas answered, annoyed.
She leaned forward and kissed him. “He’s just trying to figure out how to be my family. Be patient with him. This is probably more awkward for him than it is for me.”
“Patience has never been a virtue I excelled at,” he whispered, kissing her neck.
She smiled. “No? Which one did you excel at?”
“Diligence,” he said as if he had expected the question.
“Oh yeah?” she asked.
He pushed up to his knees and picked her up off the floor. Catching his balance, he stood and smiled at her. “And I diligently believe we are getting back in this bed because it is freezing on the floor.”
He tucked the covers tightly around her body and kissed her forehead. Emmie lay there in silence for a moment waiting for him to do something. One minute, two minutes, ten minutes. He never moved.
“Silas?” she whispered.
“Umm . . .” he mumbled.
“If we aren’t going to be together for a while . . .” she turned around to face him.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Well, I just thought maybe . . .” She paused and waited to see what he would say. He didn’t utter a word. “I mean . . . you seemed to be pretty intent with Gabe and Trick that we were staying here tonight because we’d be apart for a while,” she sputtered and stumbled over every word, “but . . . you’ve barely done more than kiss me.”
His eyes were wide and he grinned. He was enjoying watching her squirm with this conversation. “I do declare,” he said in a horrible southern drawl, “are you trying to take advantage of me, Miss Emmie?”
Her mouth fell open and her face reddened, “Oh, Silas,” she smacked his chest, “you cannot bring me up here, make such a big deal about things, and not expect me to think . . .” She frowned. “You said I deserved better last time. A better place and time when we were alone. I mean,” Emmie looked around the room, “your place is a nice place and,” she swallowed hard, looking at him, “we couldn’t be more alone, Silas.”
He grinned so wide she thought his face might split in two.
“Just never mind.” Spinning around, she pulled the covers over her ears. “Clearly you left out one of the other virtues you excel at,” she whisper-shouted.
“What’s that?” he asked curiously.
“Chastity,” she said annoyed.
Silas spooned in behind her, laughing quietly.
“Actually, I’m trying to save that one for you. I’ve already failed at it,” he mumbled.
“Dry it up, Silas. Now you’re just making me angry,” she said.
“Such hateful language, Emmie,” he said in mock distaste.
“Don’t act like an ass and I won’t treat you like one,” she argued.
He laughed louder. She could feel his chest moving against her back with each laugh. Finally he composed himself and kissed the back of her head. She tried to pull away from him and winced at the moment.
“I felt that,” he said, putting his hand softly on her ribs.
“Felt what?” she asked.
“You winced. You are crazy if you think I don’t want to touch you. I want to touch you here,” he grabbed her thigh, “here,” he slid his hand up her body, “and here . . . and here . . .”
She smacked his hand and readjusted her blanket. Her body warmed with embarrassment. She could feel the crimson creeping up her neck and ears. He laughed and trailed the blush with his fingers.
“Oh, so now you’re shy. Because I thought just a few minutes ago—” he teased.
“That ship has sailed buddy,” she said, cutting him off.
“The ship is out of commission,” he said.
Emmie frowned.
“Emmie, you are wrong,” he whispered shaking his head. “This is still not what you deserve. We may be alone but the time isn’t right.” Silas leaned over her and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. She tried not to notice how she still tingled at his touch. Tried and failed. So she sighed, loudly.
“You deserve better. Your body is still broken, Emmie. You have a healing rib. There is no way. It would hurt you . . . hell, it might even re-break the thing,” he said touching her side again.
“Oh,” she said like that hadn’t occurred to her. “I just thought there might be a way.”
“Nope. Even if there was, I’m not testing it. The ship is out of commission. But it’s pretty great that you are being such a bully about it,” he mused.
“Dry it up, Silas,” she said with a laugh this time.
The last thing she heard before sleep found her was his quiet laughter in her ear.
*
Bang, Bang, Bang.
Emmie jumped up grabbing her side as she did so. The bedroom door looked like it was about to fall right off the hinges. Which was saying something since it was about ten feet tall and made of thick dark wood. Silas was at the door before she even made it to the edge of the bed.
“Rise and shine, Silas,” Gabe shouted at them through the door.
Silas popped it open and stood there in nothing but his underclothes. He clearly didn’t care. Emmie grabbed her robe and tied it tightly around her waist.
“Gabe . . .” Silas started and looked at Emmie, swallowing hard.
“No. I gave in to you. You had your few hours here. But you told them our train was coming in at eight and it’s seven o’clock. So, get your things together,” Gabe said, turning and walking back into the hall.
Silas stepped out after him, his jaw clenched. Emmie padded over to him quickly and grabbed his forearm. He snapped around and looked down at her.
“Let it go. He’s right. Patience,” she reminded him softly.
Silas growled, turned around, and slammed the bedroom door. “My patience is for you. Not for him.”
She grabbed his forearm again; he turned to look at her annoyed. “Thanks for bringing me here, Mo Chuisle.”
She’d used his words all on her own. Before she’d only repeated them after he’d said them. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
She nodded. “I know. So give my brother some time.”
“I’m trying,” he said.
Chapter Two
Silas didn’t speak while he got ready. He made his way to the closet in the far corner of the room and pulled out some clothes. Emmie realized he rarely went anywhere that he wasn’t dressed in a suit. She opened her suitcase slowly. The old thing looked so out of place. Its corners were beat up; the lining on the inside was starting to rip. She pulled out fresh underclothes, wool stockings, and the nicest dress she had. It was the blue sailor Ava had given her. Silas and the others had seen her wear it many times over. She touched the thin fabric. It wasn’t going to do much against the cold but the wool stockings
would help. Emmie looked at her heels next to the bed where she’d left them last night. At least those were nice. Her old shoes had been lost on the side of the road when she was running from Steve and Smith. She shivered and squeezed her eyes shut against the memory before she could brush it out of her mind. She slipped on the new navy heels she’d borrowed from Ava. From the looks of them, they hadn’t been worn more than a time or two. The leather felt soft against her feet as she strapped them on.
Emmie looked at Silas as he buttoned his vest and smiled. He always looked handsome. She stretched her dress out on the bed and brushed it, trying to free the wrinkles that had settled into it as they’d traveled. It wasn’t working. She picked up the garment and flapped it like a sheet in the air.
“You got something against that dress?” he asked from across the room.
“Just trying to get some of the wrinkles out. Have you got an iron?” she asked.
“Yeah but we don’t really have time,” he said, looking at the dress. “It’ll be fine.”
“No, you look so nice. I cannot show up looking like a ragamuffin.” She laughed nervously.
Silas frowned. “You are beautiful. Hell, you really want to impress them just show up in your slip. It’s how I met you and it worked for me.”
Emmie grinned and her face reddened when she thought of their meeting at the pool. “I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”
Silas nodded. “Probably not. The dress will be fine. Besides they think you’ve just stepped off a train. They’d be suspicious if there were no wrinkles.”
Emmie nodded. It made sense. “Sorry . . . all this lying is new to me,” she teased.
Silas snorted, “If you say so.”
“What?” she asked.
“Sure, you never lie, Miss Gingham-Wrapped-Apple-Pie-Moonshine.”
She laughed as she pulled the garment over her head and smoothed it against her body. Her fingers stopped at the bandages on her ribs. She spun on her heel and looked at Silas. “The wrap doesn’t show through or anything, right?”
He walked over and ran his hand along her abdomen. His face looked morose for a moment. “No, Mo Chuisle. No one will know if you don’t want them to.”