I Swear
Unmoving on top of the horse, the rider stared at the white-washed house that rose before his eyes. The yard was silent and deserted, and Sam wondered where the Pony Express riders were. He had been told that Emma's place was a bustling beehive of activity now that it was a waystation, but there could not be more stillness than at this moment. There were no animals in the corrals, no sounds coming from the magnificent stables, and not even did the scarce trees sway in the gentle breeze blowing.
Better this way, Sam thought. He was not in the mood to explain his presence to anybody, especially to a bunch of boys. His nerves were on edge, and he was questioning whether to take the last step, or turn his horse and go back to Sweetwater. Yesterday Emma had said she'd think about it, that is, about him and her. Sam did not have the patience to wait, and wanted an answer, a lifesaving answer, and that was why he was now at the station. He wanted her answer... here and now.
Very slowly Sam eased off his horse, and tied it to the empty corral before heading for the dainty white-washed house. His steps slowed down and stopped when he found himself before the door. A couple of times he lifted his fist to knock on its wooden surface, but both times he paused and lowered it defeated. Come on, Sam, he encouraged himself, and the third time without thinking about twice he rapped his knuckles on the door energetically. His breath got caught in his throat while we waited for a noise from inside. After a few seconds the door opened, and Emma stood before him. "Sam?" the woman croaked in palpable surprise.
The marshal quickly took off his hat and held it against his chest. "Emma," he politely said, tilting his head. "I was wondering... wondering... wondering..."
"Would you like to come in?" the station mistress asked, saving him from further awkwardness.
Emma made coffee. They sat around the table, making small talk and sipping from their cups. Emma told him about the riders, the routine at the station, and the new responsibilities she now had to shoulder while Sam spoke about his obligations in town, and how hard maintaining peace was at times. After they had run out of safe topics, Emma boldly asked, "When are you gonna tell me why you're here?"
Sam shifted in his seat, poured himself another cup of coffee, and had a swig, realizing that the liquid was already too cold. His mind went back to Emma's words in town. "You got bored." Maybe there was some truth in there. Emma was the first woman he had come closer to since his late wife's death, and when he had realized her presence in his life made him vulnerable, he just broke their ties.
Sam cleared his throat before he spoke up. "Remember what you told me in town yesterday?"
"I told you I'd think about it," she reminded him.
"And?"
"Please, Sam!" Emma exclaimed, slightly irritated. "I ain't one of your deputies... not even one of the criminals you lock in your cells! Stop being so pushy! I need room to breathe and think!"
The marshal remained silent, feeling tortured by her words. In a bold motion he slid his hand across the table and grabbed her hand. His thumb caressed her work-marked fingers as he exclaimed, "Oh Emma..."
The station mistress did not try to move her hand from his hold. His touch was soothing but at the same time it stirred too many forgotten sensations in her soul. It would be so easy to give in, because this man woke up so powerful feelings within her that she thought she would never be able to experience again. Yet, his indifference not too long ago had hurt and disappointed her too much, and she did not want to fall in the same vicious circle again. "What, Sam?"
Sam took a deep breath, readying himself to put aside his impenetrable defense and come out with the truth. "I didn't realize what you meant to me until the day I lost you..."
"You walked out on me," Emma reminded him.
Sam nodded sadly before continuing. "That was when I knew how much I loved you, but it was too late... too late."
Emma shivered at his words. Sam had never once said he loved her. She had always thought she had been a distraction, a failed attempt to fill his voids, a meaningless episode. Was she willing to believe him? Her body was quivering, and not wanting him to feel her tremble, the woman removed her hand from his hold, and folded her arms against her chest protectively. Her serious eyes looked at him, in a silent request for him to carry on.
"I feel you ain't the same woman I used to know, Emma," Sam continued in a tiny voice. "Your eyes don't look at me in the same way."
"You wonder why?"
Sam shook his head wryly. "If something's to blame here, it's me," he muttered. "I didn't know it'd hurt so much. These long months haven't been easy, seeing you come and go, smiling, laughing, with others..."
"Excuse me?" Emma cut in in an annoyed voice. "What others?"
"I mean... that came out wrong. Jealousy drives me crazy when I see you at the social, dancing with all those men."
"You have no right to feel jealous, Sam Cain. I ain't nothing yours... you made that crystal clear to me," Emma retorted.
Unable to endure the look of his eyes and the sound of his voice, the woman rose to her feet, and walked away from him. Yet, Sam jumped after her, and in a bold motion he wrapped his arms around her from behind, and pressed his lips on her nape, kissing her sensitive skin. "Oh Emma..." he whimpered, brushing his mouth against her neck, and after a second's pause, he tried to say what he had been rehearsing before coming over, "I know you think I'm just a cold, stony lawman, but this is what I am like underneath the protective layer of my badge."
His touch was affecting her more than she was ready to admit. Her body was on fire, and covered in goosebumps. She had to flee, step away, and she tried to set herself free. "Please Sam!" she said, pushing him away. Yet, as she fought his touch, the marshal turned her around towards him, and before she knew what was happening, his lips were on hers, demanding, passionate, intruding. Emma was taken aback by his ardour, and felt as if she was falling down a ravine and there was nothing she could do, but close her eyes and let her body fly. Her lips parted, letting him deepen the kiss as she responded, moaning in pleasure. Her breathing was ragged, and breathlessly they finally pulled away. Panting, Emma stared at Sam, who had a loopsided satisfactory smile. His smirk upset her strict conscience, and contradicting her own response to his kisses, she gave her a push while exclaimed, "What has gotten into you, Sam Cain?"
"I love you, Emma Shannon," the marshal blurted out shamelessly. "I swear there's nobody for me but you. Try me if you want. I'd do anything for you. You want me to count the sand under the ocean? I'd do it. You want me to kill? I'd do it. You want me to fly to the moon? I'd do it."
"I just want you to leave me alone," Emma replied in a stern tone.
Once again the woman tried to walk away, but Sam fell onto his knees in front of her, hugging her legs and pressing his face into her stomach. "Sam, please..."
"I need you, Emma," the marshal implored in a voice and grandiloquence the woman did not recognize. "Please love me however way you can. I'll take anything. Do anything with me. Take me to the highest mountain and push me in the abyss. Tie me and drag me through every street in this damn town. Kick me, spit me, hit me, burn me... just kill me. But please love me... love me."
Emma looked down at his miserable figure. Her hand reached and grabbing his chin, she tilted his pained face to him. She had no idea what respected Marshal Sam Cain hid inside him, and at the moment she realized she knew nothing about this man, who she once dreamed about... or maybe she still dreamed about. "Sam, I said I'd think about it."
The marshal nodded his head, and rose to his feet slowly. "I better go now then," he muttered, looking around to find his hat in an attempt not to face her eyes. He had lay his heart for her, and she had not taken it. What else did he need? He got the answer he had come to find. "See you around, Emma," he said in a weak voice.
Whether she said anything, Sam did not hear. With a somber countenance he walked out of the house, across the yard where he had left his horse. After the humilition he had put himself through, he needed to run, to flee, and not look back. His right foot went to the stirrup, and before he rose onto teh saddle, a voice calling his name stopped him. Turning his head, he saw Emma standing at her door. A question in his eyes, and with a smile the station mistress said, "Why don't you stay for dinner? I'm making lemon cake, and if I don't remember wrong, it was your favorite."
"And your riders?"
"Sam Cain, I don't have to ask anybody's permission to have whoever I want over dinner. Besides, they better get used to seeing you around the station." Sam stared at her in the distance, wondering if she was making fun of him, or if she was actually serious. His hesitancy and stunned expression made Emma giggle as she asked, "So what's gonna be? You staying or not?"
A beaming smile lit up the marshal's features, and without another word he walked back to her... rather ran back to her, and when he stood, hovering over her figure, he added, "So you've already thought about it?"
"I'm still thinking about it," Emma replied playfully. "But since you are about to start an odyssey on my behalf, I better feed you... it's the least I can do, ain't it, Marshal?"
Sam let out a raucous howl of laughter after her words. Emma, witty Emma. I swear one day...
The End
Based on the song 'Te lo juro yo' by Rafael de León
