A/N: Last official chapter, my dears! The epilogue shall be on its way shortly. Likely within the next couple days. I'll save all my blabbering and thank yous for that, so go ahead and read on!
By the time Emma turns back down the driveway at the ranch, the lingering grey clouds have parted to reveal blue sky and bright sun. She grabs a late lunch and brings it out to the barn office with her so that she can focus on planning out everything she needs to accomplish over the next several days. The dogs join her, Duke lounging on the floor while Avast scrambles around the barn, chasing and pouncing on a rock most likely dug up from her mother's garden.
But even with the dogs for company, it's too quiet, so Emma switches on the radio just high enough to fill the void while she works. She puts in an order for grain and supplements at the feed store in town, arranging to pick it up tomorrow morning before noon, and then she gets to work listening to the messages that have accumulated on the answering machine.
With all the necessary calls returned and several new bookings marked down in the calendar, she looks at the clock and figures it's about time to get some of the horses in and tacked up for the first of the afternoon's two trail rides.
The first goes smoothly, but the couple she leads is more interested in making doe eyes at each other and taking selfies than listening to anything she has to say about the horses or the history of the surrounding ranch land. It's relatively boring and she finds herself wishing for Killian's company, knowing that if he were here, she'd be able to communicate her distaste for the technology obsessed couple with little more than a look.
The next trail ride more than makes up for it though. It's just two older ladies this time, guests staying in one of the cabins, but Emma remembers them well from their stay at the ranch back in early July. After all, how she could forget Joan and Linda and their attempts to push her and Killian together?
The women are waiting outside at a picnic table playing a game of cards when Emma arrives at the cabin with the horses in tow.
"Emma!" Joan calls as Emma approaches with their mounts. "So good to see you again, dear! Your mom checked us in a few days ago, told us all about the trip she had planned; I do hope they're having a fabulous time!"
Emma dismounts and is instantly in a better mood. "I imagine they are. Mom had quite the itinerary planned out. I think today's schedule had a horseback ride on the beach in the morning and snorkelling in the afternoon, followed by dinner and a show."
"Busy folks," Linda comments with a shake of her head. "Sounds lovely, but I hope she's made time for a little relaxation as well."
Emma laughs. "That'll be up to dad to enforce; mom's not great at stopping and sitting still when there are so many things to do and places to explore."
"Well, all we've done these last few days is sit around and relax," Joan tells her, rising from her seat at the table to pull Emma into a quick hug.
"And eat," Linda adds, looping an arm briefly around Emma's shoulders as well. "That Granny's take-out is dangerous if you're not young and working hard."
"I eat more of it than I probably should," Emma confesses as she moves to tighten the cinches on the other two horses before giving the women the go ahead to mount.
"Speaking of young and hard working," Joan says with a wide grin, "where's tall, dark, and Irish today?"
"We were looking forward to the eye candy," Linda chips in.
"How are things going between you two, anyhow?"
"Saddle up that bronc and take him for a spin yet?"
Emma can't fight the shit-eating grin that rises to her lips.
"She has!" Linda deduces excitedly, almost proudly, as Emma shakes her head in amusement and remounts her chestnut mare.
"Oh goodie! How was it?" Joan asks. "Details, girl, details!"
Emma takes a moment to try to put it into words as they nudge the horses forward toward the trail. "It was… it was a long time coming," she decides on.
The look Linda gives her is pointed and mischievous, accompanied by a raised eyebrow. "Oh, was it now?"
It takes Emma less than half a second to recognize the unintentional double entendre present in her words. Snorting, she closes her eyes briefly in humour. "Not what I meant and you know it. Buuuut…"
Joan claps gleefully with a bit of a screech and Emma can't help but wonder if this is what Ruby is going to be like in 30 or so years. The thought reminds Emma that she really should call her friends later and let them know about the whole 'Killian's in Ireland' situation, but it also brings her back to Joan's question about Killian's whereabouts.
"Killian would have been here today, but he got a call yesterday and had to head back to Ireland to deal with a family matter," Emma admits after a moment, trying to decide just how in depth she's actually going to get here.
"He left you all by your lonesome?" Linda surmises. "That's rough."
Emma nods. "I didn't exactly take it well yesterday, but I understand now; it's not his fault. Just shitty timing and even shittier circumstance. He wasn't overly thrilled about it either. He'll be back by the weekend though."
"Soooo, you two; it's more than just a good roll in the hay, huh?" Joan concludes sagely.
Emma finds herself nodding in confirmation again. "It took a while to get there. It's not exactly what I expected when we started out, but… it's good, really good."
The admission is followed by a beat of quiet understanding, almost seriousness, and Emma can't help but marvel at the unlikely bond she's formed with these ladies despite the substantial age difference. It's not long though, before Joan and Linda are back at it, pestering her for details regarding her sex life while interspersing the hilarity with humorous tales from when they were her age.
It's a welcome reprieve from the reminder of Killian's absence, and Emma finds herself laughing more than she'd have thought possible only hours earlier.
When the trail ride ends, Emma waves her goodbyes to the two boisterous women and agrees to take them out again tomorrow afternoon.
With the radio still playing in the barn, she un-tacks and settles the horses into their stalls before heading out to bring the rest of the herd in. The dogs trot alongside her as she works, and when everyone is fed and content for the evening, Emma glances at her phone, decides she doesn't feel like cooking, and quickly comes to the conclusion that, despite her earlier admission that she eats there far too often, Granny's is indeed in order. If she's lucky, she'll be able to catch Ruby next door before her friend leaves work for the night.
If Granny thinks Emma showing up alone is odd, the woman is wise enough not to say anything and simply sets a plate of grilled cheese and onion rings down in front of her before tilting her head toward the countertop dessert display. "Butter tarts just came out of the oven half an hour ago," she promotes with a knowing smile.
"My only weakness," Emma declares dramatically around a mouthful of onion ring. "May as well give me half a dozen to go."
Ten minutes later, with a take-out box filled with dessert and a cup of hot cocoa in hand, Emma pays the bill and steps out the door, the bell jingling just as her phone rings.
Freeing the device from her pocket to answer it involves a bit of juggling, but she manages just before the call goes to voicemail.
"Hey," Emma greets, "what's up?"
"You in town?" Belle asks. "I just noticed your bug parked on Main Street. Oh wait. Is that- are you?"
"Just stepping out of Granny's?" Emma finishes for her friend, scanning the street and lifting her hot chocolate in an awkward wave when she spots the brunette.
"Hang on," Belle laughs. "I'll come to you!"
With that, the line goes dead and Emma pockets her phone as Belle jogs across the street, agile as ever in the ridiculously high heels she insists on wearing to work.
Belle wraps her in a quick, one-armed hug before stepping back. "What are you doing in town? I would have thought you'd be back at the ranch with Killian, enjoying the privacy."
"Long story," Emma admits with a bit of a scoff. "Come on, let's go see if Ruby's done working yet; I'd rather only tell it once."
Ruby is just handing off a neatly groomed Pomeranian to its owner when they step through the entrance into her shop. Barking sounds loudly from the back, and after scheduling another appointment with the client, Ruby smiles brightly at Emma and Belle and holds up a hand. "Just give me one minute, guys, and then I'm all yours."
The feisty brunette retreats into the back, and after a moment, the barking finally subsides. Seconds later Ruby is leading a massive Great Dane (or rather, the Great Dane is leading Ruby) out while she reaches for the ringing phone. "Ruby's!" she answers cheerfully, even as the dog strains at his leash.
Taking pity on her frazzled friend, Emma hands her hot chocolate and the desserts off to Belle so that she can take hold of the excitable dog.
"Chief," Ruby mouths as she relinquishes the huge black dog into Emma's grasp, followed by "good luck," as she returns her attention to the phone call.
Settling the dog is a challenge, but a handful of treats snagged from the jar on the reception desk seems to do the trick, and thankfully the owners appear just as Ruby finishes up on the phone.
Emma returns to sit next to Belle, and they both try not to snicker childishly as Ruby makes the obviously necessary suggestion of training classes to Chief's owners. When the dog finally hightails it out the door with his owners in tow, Ruby locks it behind them and flips the sign to 'closed'.
Following Ruby into the back, Emma watches her friend contemplate the mess of fur trimmings on the floor and the grooming equipment scattered across the counters. With a shake of her head, Ruby simply runs her hand through her hair and takes a seat on one of the lower grooming tables. "Anita called in sick," she says by way of explanation. "It's been a day."
"Here," Belle offers, holding out the take-out box. "Emma bought butter tarts. I can only assume she means to share."
Ruby doesn't ask for permission, so Emma doesn't bother giving it, just digs into the box after her friends and shakes her head in silent amusement as they all devour the desserts.
"Soooo," Ruby drawls when she finishes eating, wiping her fingers on her fur-covered scrub pants, "where's Killian?"
Emma closes the box and sits it aside on what looks like a relatively clean portion of the countertop. "Right now? Probably somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean."
"WHAT?!"
"Emma!"
And suddenly, both Ruby and Belle are talking at once, a litany of questions pouring forth that Emma would be happy to answer if they'd just shut up long enough to allow it.
"Guuuuys!" Emma finally whines in frustration. "Would you stop asking questions for a minute and let me explain?"
Completely unabashed, Ruby holds out a broom to Emma. "Can you sweep and explain at the same time? I don't want to be here all night."
With a sigh, Emma takes the broom, sorely tempted to beat her friend over the head with it.
When Ruby picks up a broom as well, Emma starts talking.
It's dark by the time Emma returns to the ranch and she completes night check alone in the unnatural quiet of the barn. She lets the dogs out while she takes a long shower, but even then, she's got time to kill before Killian's first flight lands in London.
Letting the dogs in, she flips on the TV and settles down on the couch with her phone nearby, the notification volume turned way up.
Avast snuggles in next to her amongst the cushions and Duke takes up residence between the couch and the coffee table. An old NCIS episode flashes by on the television, and despite her best efforts to remain otherwise, Emma is sound asleep before the next commercial break.
She's not sure what exactly wakes her. It could be the god-awful crick in her neck from falling asleep sitting upright on the couch, or it could be the brightness of the screen that now streams nothing but obnoxious rainbow-coloured bars, signaling that the channel is off-air.
Groaning, Emma reaches for the remote and switches the television to another channel before checking her phone as she blinks the sleep from her vision and stretches her neck.
An hour far later than she expected stares up at her along with several missed messages.
At nearly 1am, it's obvious that she's missed Killian's layover in London.
Avast stirs next to her, flopping sideways to drop her head on Emma's knee, and Emma opens the app, feeling incredibly guilty for falling asleep so easily.
[Mon. 10:48pm] Killian: Just landed in London, love. Sun's not quite up here. Managed to sleep a bit on the plane but coffee is definitely in order. Going to grab one while I wait. I'll have my phone on for the next hour until I've got to board again.
[Mon. 11:24pm] Killian: You must be sleeping. I'm glad. Though admittedly I wish I was there with you. The seats here are lacking in a certain degree of comfort. I've made a friend though; lovely old fellow named Ernest. He's spent much of the last half hour regaling me with tales from his childhood.
[Mon. 11:31pm] Killian: I showed him a picture of you. He said, and I quote, "don't let that one get away." I don't intend to. ;)
[Mon. 11:37pm] Killian: Did you know that the sum of all the numbers on a roulette wheel is 666? This man is a veritable treasure chest of rather useless yet entirely entertaining facts.
[Mon. 11:43pm] Killian: Boarding now, darling. I hope you sleep well. I shall check my phone again when I land, but if you're still asleep, don't fret. I love you.
Emma smiles as she rises from the couch, glad that Killian seems to be in good spirits. His flight is scheduled to land within the next 20 or so minutes, so she taps out a quick message.
[Tues. 12:49am] Emma: Hey. Sorry I missed your messages. Ended up passing out on the couch. I'm gonna blame it on Ruby; she made me help with clean up at the shop. I'm awake now though. Let me know when you land. I love you too.
It's tempting to curl up in bed while she waits, but Emma's reasonably sure if she does that, she'll wind up missing yet another round of messages. Instead, she moves into the kitchen to prep the coffee maker, knowing she's going to want it in less than 6 hours from now when she has to wake up again.
Resting her head heavily on her hands, she leans over the counter with her elbows on the granite and stares at her phone in a bit of a daze. A yawn cracks her jaw and she huffs quietly at the disaster that has become her sleep schedule over the last few days.
At least she's not dealing with a 7 hour time change.
Emma looks at the clock: 1:01am. Just after 8am in Dublin. She understands the logic and necessity of time zones, but still, and maybe it's just a matter of exhaustion, at the moment the whole concept seems pretty damned hard to wrap her head around.
Cleaning up the few dishes littering the kitchen counter and sink seems like as good an idea as any while she waits, and when her phone finally rings, she nearly breaks a plate in her haste to dry her hands and answer the call. "Hey there, stranger."
"Hello, love." Killian's voice is warm; she can practically hear the smile in it. "Just waiting for my bag now. Why must everyone possess such monochromatic luggage? I'm starting to think your mother might be onto something with those obnoxiously coloured ribbons she insists upon tying to her belongings."
"Neon yellow ribbon curls or neon yellow luggage; pick your poison," Emma offers, laughing. "How was your flight?"
"Long." He sounds tired now. "I hope Aiden's got a fresh pot of coffee on when I get there." A grunt and clattering sounds in the background. "There we go, luggage acquired. I'm not sure how I feel about neon yellow. Perhaps a cheerful red? Might be the lesser of two evils."
"You could just slap a giant Canadian flag on it," Emma suggests. "That should stand out."
"A thought for the distant future," Killian finally declares. "Once I return home, I've no plans to travel again for a while."
Home. The word makes Emma smile. "Good." She traces her finger mindlessly over the dark flecks in the countertop and fights to conceal another yawn. "What time do you meet with Aiden?"
"Assuming I can grab a taxi without much of a wait, I aim to be there around 9am," Killian tells her over background chatter. "Hold on one second, love." His voice is muffled for a moment, but he returns quickly. "Apologies. Decided I couldn't wait for a caffeine fix."
"You're getting as bad as I am," Emma teases. "I half considered putting on a pot ten minutes ago but figured that if I actually wanted to sleep again tonight, that'd be a terrible idea."
She hears Killian presumably blowing on hot coffee as he juggles the phone. "Are you in bed, darling?" Killian asks, and though it's obviously intended as an innocent question, his accent has the tendency to make it sound far less so.
"I'm standing in the kitchen right now. I was afraid if I curled up in bed, I'd fall asleep and miss your call."
"Why don't you get cozied up. I can talk for a few more minutes while I wait for a taxi. Then I'll be out of Wi-Fi range until I get to Abi's later."
"M'kay," she says through a yawn, switching off lights and the TV before calling the dogs over. "Duke and Avast are stealing your side of the bed for the next few nights," Emma says as she drops her sweatpants to the floor. "You'll have to fight them for it when you come home."
"Gladly," Killian chuckles.
"One sec," Emma says, sitting the phone down so that she can pull the sweater over her head and settle beneath the blankets. "There, I'm in bed," she announces.
"You've no idea how bloody jealous I am right now, love." She hears him take a sip of coffee and then his voice grows darker. "What are you wearing, Emma?"
Rolling her eyes, she laughs. "I don't think so, mister. Save that thought for another time."
"Aye," he agrees. "Probably for the best. Taxi just pulled up, love. I'd best be going."
"I'll talk to you later?"
"Count on it. I'll send you a message when I'm back at Abigail's this evening. I imagine she'd like to say hello as well."
Avast snuggles in against Emma's chest while Duke rests his head on her feet, and it's almost, almost, as good as having Killian here with her. She thinks, at least, as she yawns again, that it'll be enough for her to fall asleep quickly.
"I love you," she hums, her eyes already closing.
"I love you, too. Sweetest dreams."
In the morning, Emma wakes to find that Avast has somehow managed to wiggle her way under the covers. The pup's head rests on the other pillow, and Emma snaps a quick picture to send to Killian before rolling out of bed.
Fifteen short minutes later, she's out in the barn, nursing her second cup of coffee while divvying up the morning grain. There's no immediate response from Killian, but she's not surprised; he's probably still busy with Aiden.
By 10 o'clock, Emma's three quarters of the way through mucking the stalls and is just returning from refilling her coffee mug when she catches sight of Joan and Linda ambling down the driveway.
The ladies come bearing fresh-baked carrot muffins and are an excellent source of company that makes the last hour of barn chores fly by in what feels like minutes.
At shortly after 11, Emma parts ways with the women so that she can head into town to pick up the order from the feed store. Opting to take her father's truck, she piles the dogs into the front seat and makes the drive into town with the windows down, enjoying what she suspects will be the last of a limited number of summer-like days.
With the feed loaded and paid for, Emma winds up grabbing Granny's for lunch.
Taking the dogs to the park to play in the water, she enjoys her sandwich with her bare feet dangling from the dock. The time is spent exchanging a few short messages with Killian, and they decide that an actual video chat will have to wait until later when she's finished with the afternoon's trail rides.
It's 4 o'clock by the time that happens, 11 at night over in Ireland, and Emma can already tell that this time difference is quickly going to become a pain in the ass.
They don't end up talking for long; Abi says a quick hello before heading to bed, and Killian begins yawning not long after that. He tells her that all the paperwork is in order regarding the house, which means that bright and early tomorrow morning he'll be heading out there with Aiden to get the keys and begin the process of sifting through whatever mysteries the old farm house contains.
Emma jokes about Joan and Linda, informs him that the women were disappointed by his absence, and tells him that he'd better be home Friday because the women leave Saturday, and won't, in Linda's words, be too pleased if they don't get a peek at that fine ass before they depart.
Another yawn interrupts Killian's rich laughter, and as much as Emma would prefer to keep talking, the man really should get some sleep. Besides, she needs to bring the horses in and then think about actually eating something other than take-out for dinner.
The process of exchanging goodnights and I love yous and hanging up should be simple, but somehow another 15 minutes pass before Emma finally disconnects the call. She stares glumly at the computer screen for several long seconds and then finally closes the laptop, standing in an attempt to shake herself out of the funk that threatens to descend in the too-quiet apartment.
With the horses in and fed, a quick meal of pasta eaten, and everything taken care of in the office by shortly after 6 o'clock, Emma stands there with the entire evening ahead of her and very little to occupy her mind.
She could go inside, watch TV or read a book, but it's far too nice out for that, so instead she ends up pulling the appaloosa mare that they bought at auction all those months ago from her stall.
After much deliberation, they'd decided to name the mare Nala, befitting her pale golden coat and fearless personality. Emma hasn't had much time to work on breaking the mare to ride over the last couple months, and now seems as good a time as any to make some headway.
The evening is spent working in the round pen, re-familiarizing the mare with voice commands and building trust before saddling and bridling her without issue. Emma leads Nala around and uses her hands to press weight into each stirrup before calling it a day. She doubts there would be any issue if she attempted to mount, but for safety's sake, she'll save that for another time when someone is around to supervise.
After un-tacking the mare and praising her repeatedly, Emma hand walks her out to a patch of grass in the yard and allows her to graze as the sun says its last farewells to the day. A sense of accomplishment and pride overrides her earlier melancholy, and Emma can only hope that in the days to come, Killian finds a similar sense of peace.
Wednesday drags past in a never-ending of supply of activity, the usual chores combined with a visit from the farrier and coaching David's lesson kids, eating up most of Emma's free time.
It's not ideal, but it helps that Killian is clearly busy as well. The few messages that they manage to exchange are short and replies are far from immediate. She tells herself that it's only two more days, but that doesn't settle the restlessness in her limbs or the ache in her heart when she remembers for the tenth time in as many hours that tomorrow is the anniversary of Liam's death.
One of the girls in the last lesson falls off and winds up with a nasty concussion requiring a trip to the hospital, and it's not until nearly 10 o'clock that Emma is finally able to call it a night and retreat to the apartment.
As a coach she did absolutely nothing to contribute to the mishap. The horse simply spooked at a rabbit as it darted across the driveway. Accidents happen; such is the nature of the sport, but still, she can't help but feel as if the whole ordeal has put a damper on what has already been a trying day.
Flopping back on the bed and staring up at the ceiling, she groans and digs her phone out of her pocket. The screen stares back at her, black as the night sky outside, and she curses shitty battery life while reaching for the charger.
When the phone finally blinks to life, Emma opens the messaging app and taps out an apology.
[Wed. 9:57pm] Emma: Hey. Sorry I've been so busy today. I really wanted to talk to you earlier but time got away from me and then Jessica fell off in her lesson and I ended up taking her to the hospital to get her head checked out. She'll be okay; it's just a mild concussion and a nasty scratch.
[Wed. 9:58pm] Emma: I miss you. I know it's only been a couple days, but still, I miss you.
[Wed. 10:01pm] Emma: I guess it's probably too much to hope that you're awake right now, huh?
Of course it is, she chides herself, feeling stupid. It's 5am in Ireland. He's probably sleeping.
Tossing the phone carelessly onto the closest bedside table, Emma rolls over onto her stomach and reaches for Killian's pillow. Inhaling his scent, she briefly wonders how long it'll be until it fades beyond recognition. Hopefully she can get a couple more quality nights out of it until he returns.
Convincing herself to rise and brush her teeth is a feat she's not sure she's up to, and she's just lounging there, weighing the risks of tooth decay, when her phone rattles loudly, almost skittering its way off the edge of the table to the floor.
"You're awake?" she says in greeting, surprise lacing her words as she struggles and fails to contain a smile.
"Aye. I attempted to go to bed hours ago, but only managed a few hours of interrupted sleep. I'm standing outside on the back porch now. Didn't want to wake Abi or Colin with my restlessness," Killian tells her, sounding drained.
"What time do you head back to the house?" she asks as she peels off her socks and tosses them in the direction of the laundry hamper.
"Around 9," Killian hums, "I think. Abi is going to accompany me this time but she's got to see Colin off to daycare first."
"How'd it go yesterday? Find anything interesting?"
Killian scoffs and Emma can picture him rubbing at his eyes, a tight-lipped frown on his face. "An abundance of dust and empty liquor bottles – neither of which quite qualify as interesting... or even remotely surprising. Most of the house was relatively empty. Cleaned off and loaded the bulk of the furniture and kitchen supplies into a van to be donated to a local charity, and made a number of trips to waste and recycling stations to get rid of the rest. The attic is filled with boxes, but I only made it halfway through those and am convinced that most of them must have belonged to whoever owned the house before my father."
"What was in them?" Emma asks, curious as to how he could so easily determine ownership.
"Some contained woman's clothing that looked as if it could date back to the early 1930s, and a number of others were filled with childhood keepsakes that obviously belonged to a family with girls. I'm having Aiden see if he can track down the previous owners, or at least their extended family; all of this might mean something to someone."
Killian sighs and Emma can only assume that he's wishing his father had been similarly sentimental.
"I don't even know if I'm going to find anything meaningful here, Emma," he admits after a moment, his voice sounding rough and a little bit unsteady. "What if this whole bloody trip was just a waste of time? Nothing more than an ill-timed reminder that my father was a pathetic drunk who clearly didn't give a shit about his sons."
Killian sniffs, sounding torn between anger and anguish, and Emma closes her eyes tightly against threatening tears while silently cursing the universe for preventing her from being there with him.
"It's almost a year since Liam died," he continues, "and it's all I can do not to count down to the very minute it happened. I never should have come here. This has been pointless. I should still be at home with you."
Emma sighs and wipes at her eyes with her free hand. "You know that's not true. Even if you don't find anything worthwhile in that house, you're spending time with Abi and Colin, right? That's got to count for something."
A huff of acknowledgement is the only answer Emma receives, and god, she's never felt quite this helpless before. She's used to comforting with touch, not words. She's used to him being the strong one in this sort of upheaval of a situation. And she doesn't know what's worse, saying nothing, or trying to say something and blundering her way through some awkward speech about hope.
She needs to say something though, so she opts for the potentially pathetic hope speech. At the very least maybe he'll get a chuckle out of it.
"At the risk of sounding far too much like my mother, or possibly just sounding ridiculous because we both know this isn't exactly my strong suit, I'm gonna tell you to keep your chin up until you finish looking through those boxes. You never know what you might find and I refuse to believe that you flew across most of Canada and an entire ocean just to come back home empty handed, okay?"
Killian snorts. "Yes, dear."
Rolling her eyes, Emma laughs. "Good. Now, unfortunately I can't hug you because you're thousands of miles away, but I can try to distract you until Abi and Colin wake up."
"Love," Killian protests predictably, "you don't have to. You should be sleeping."
"So should you," Emma counters firmly, "but since that's clearly not happening, let me be here for you in the only I can right now, okay? Are you sitting somewhere comfortable?"
There's rustling as Killian seems to settle. "Relatively; I found and old lawn chair."
"All right then, I've got a funny story to tell you," Emma informs him as she stretches out with his pillow clutched to her chest. "You'll never guess what Leroy did to the poor farrier today."
The majority of Thursday somehow manages to pass with unexpected haste, almost as if the hands on the clock share Emma's desire for the day to just be over with already.
Killian's mood is understandably subdued when she talks to him that afternoon, but he reassures her that despite the circumstances, he's doing all right. Hours of digging through boxes finally proved fruitful, yielding an old family photo album, Liam's childhood baseball glove, and a much smaller box filled with a number of items that admittedly had him and Abigail in tears for the better part of the afternoon.
Emma just barely resists the urge to say 'I told you so.'
He tells her that after packing away the last of the house and handing the keys over to Aiden, they had picked Colin up from daycare, enjoyed a quiet dinner, and then watched the sun set at the cemetery overlooking Liam's grave.
Emma shares the relative monotony that has been her day thus far, and after that, they talk for a while longer, sorting out the details of Killian's flight home. He insists that he can take a cab from the airport, but Emma just calls him stupid and lets him know in no uncertain terms that she'll be there at shortly after 6pm to pick him up.
The conversation eventually wraps up with Killian yawning, obviously exhausted, and it's just in time for Emma to head outside and greet Ruby in the driveway.
"You said something about needing a spotter while breaking a horse?" Ruby asks as she climbs out of her little red Camaro to stand silhouetted in the early evening sun.
Emma nods. "You know; all that safety first shit? Just in case I fall on my head and need someone to call 911 for me."
Ruby laughs and links arms with Emma, dragging her toward the barn. "Should I have brought Victor and his doctor-ly skills along? Planning on landing on your ass?"
"Not planning on it, no. I've been working with Nala a lot the last few days and I think she's ready to be ridden. I just know that mom and dad and Killian would find a way to kill me again if I got myself killed because I was too stupid or too impatient to have someone around to supervise."
They walk arm in arm into the barn with the dogs following closely behind, and Emma ends up brushing the mare while Ruby leans against the wall in the sun slanting through the open doors.
"I just don't get it," Ruby says, starting in on what Emma suspects will be a long rant about work. "Some people apparently think it's okay to just not brush their long haired dog. Like ever. I mean what do they think is going to happen when they come in 6 weeks overdue for a grooming appointment with a dog that looks like an unloved 70s shag carpet? Do they expect me to just wiggle my nose and poof! Presto! Use my mind to will the mats away? Boom? Flawless coat again? You should have seen him, Emma, it took me two hours to shave this poor dog."
Having been on the listening end of one of Ruby's pet-care related rants many times before, Emma knows that her friend doesn't actually expect an answer to any of the many questions she asks. It's enough just to stand there and listen to the seemingly never-ending diatribe.
Sometimes Emma feels bad for thinking it, but she's pretty sure the mouthy brunette could carry on a conversation with a brick wall if need be.
It's nice to have something else to think about though, something to keep her mind off the 24 or so hours that stand between her and seeing Killian again, so Emma actually puts half an effort into nodding and furthering the conversation when appropriate.
It's not until Emma leads the mare out of the barn and into the round pen, though, that Ruby finally quiets.
Emma spends several minutes free-lunging the mare in each direction before slowly and successfully tacking her up. Grabbing the helmet from the fence, Emma puts it on and signals for Ruby to enter the pen.
"You ready?" Ruby asks, reaching out to pet the mare's neck as Emma double checks the tightness of the cinch.
"As I'll ever be," Emma answers, pressing her weight into the left stirrup with the palms of her hand. The mare appears entirely unfazed as usual so Emma nods. "Hold her for me? I'm just going to lean across her back to start."
Shoving her foot into the stirrup, Emma talks soothingly to the horse as she slowly pulls her weight up into the saddle to lean on her stomach across the mare's back. Nala stands perfectly still, attentive, her ears flickering back, but otherwise calm as can be. Emma shifts her weight several times, and when the mare snorts in apparent boredom, Emma chuckles and carefully lifts up to swing her other leg over the back of the saddle.
Seated tall on the horse, Emma strokes the mare's golden neck and grins down at Ruby. "Walk her forward?"
Ruby leads them at a walk around the pen several times in each direction before Emma gathers up the reins and nods. "I think we're good on our own now, thanks."
The next several minutes are spent at a walk, turning and halting and moving forward again as the mare gets used to responding to her leg, easily following her voice commands.
"Are you sure she isn't already broke to ride?" Ruby finally asks from her spot in the center of the pen. "She looks like I could set off my car alarm and she'd probably just sleep right through it."
"I don't know," Emma says with a shrug, "there was nothing in her history at the auction that suggested otherwise. Maybe she's just one of the good ones?"
"Try trotting her?" Ruby suggests.
Nala's ears flick forward at the word and Emma cautiously nudges the mare forward into the faster gait.
Twice around in each direction with a smooth halt at the end of it, and Emma's left sitting there and grinning like a fool. "Do I know how to pick em, or what?"
"Your dad's going to be impressed," Ruby comments, stepping forward to feed the mare a mint. "You'll have her out galloping across the fields in no time. Hell, from what I've seen here, you could probably give it a try within the week."
Feeling light and undeniably happy, Emma dismounts and loosens the girth, praising the mare as she and Ruby make their way back into the barn, discussing plans for a trail ride the following weekend.
Ruby sticks around to help with night check, and afterwards, they end up watching bad reality TV in the apartment until the hour grows late and Ruby decides that she'd better head out.
All seems to be quiet on the messaging front regarding Killian, and Emma can only hope that means he's actually getting a good night's rest before flying out. His flight is scheduled to leave at 3:30am her time and she very much doubts that she'll manage to catch him in the morning, so before crawling into bed for the night, she taps out a quick message.
[Thurs. 10:42pm] Emma: Have a safe flight and give Abi and Colin hugs for me. I love you and I imagine that I'll spend most of tomorrow impatiently waiting for 6 o'clock to roll around. Any idea what you want for dinner?
Her prediction of impatience is spot on, and when she's already finished with the morning chores at 10am, she wants to kick herself for working so fast. In an effort to kill some time, she ends up working with Nala again, and later, after completing the scheduled trail rides, she rushes back to the barn to bring the horses in and feed so that she can leave for the airport around 4 o'clock.
There'd been a message from Killian in the morning requesting that they stop at Granny's on the way home for dinner, and Emma's already got their usual order called in to be ready for pick up between 7:45 and 8. She'd rather be in and out quickly than risk running into a friend in town and being delayed. Call her selfish, but she wants Killian all to herself this evening.
A quick shower and a change of clothes find her set to hit the road at moments after 4 and she spends most of the drive reminding herself to obey the speed limit because she sure as hell doesn't need a ticket, and getting there too early would just mean more waiting around.
Despite her best efforts to drive slowly, traffic is surprisingly good for a Friday evening and she still ends up arriving at the airport early. Killian's flight has already landed, but she knows from experience that making it through customs will take a while.
Driving around seems like a waste of gas and Killian had insisted that she not pay for parking, so she stops at the nearest coffee shop instead, figuring that Killian won't say no to caffeine after spending most of the day on a plane.
Pulling out her phone, she shoots him a quick text.
[Fri. 6:05pm] Emma: I'm here early, going to stop at Tim Hortons while I wait. Any requests?
She parks in the lot at the Tim Hortons on the outskirts of the airport and watches one plane land and another take off while she waits for his reply. It finally comes several minutes later whiles she's drumming her fingers against the wheel in impatience.
[Fri. 6:13pm] Killian: God, yes. Something disgustingly large and sweet, please. I should be through customs in another 20 or so. See you shortly, darling.
[Fri. 6:14pm] Killian: What car should I look for?
[Fri. 6:16pm] Emma: You'll know it when you see it. I'm in the drive thru for coffee now. Any chance you can jump ahead in line? I'm tired of waiting.
[Fri. 6:18pm] Killian: Patience, love. I'll be there before you know it.
With two large café mochas in the cup holders, Emma returns to the airport to wait in almost the exact same spot they did months ago when picking up Abi and Colin. Looking at the time, she shifts the bug into park and pulls out her phone. There's a missed message from her mom detailing the day's tropical adventures, and Emma replies to it while keeping a close eye on the automatic doors.
Her mother answers almost immediately, telling her that she's taking advantage of the lobby's Wi-Fi to upload some pictures to the Facebook. Emma promises that she'll take a look at them later, and when her mother asks what she and Killian are up to, Emma realizes that at some point (not now, tomorrow maybe), she'll actually have to tell her mom about everything that happened this week. For now she just stretches the truth slightly and messages back a quick "gotta run, about to eat dinner" as she finally catches sight of Killian dragging his luggage through the exit.
Not really giving a shit about the 'no parking' signs, she kills the ignition and climbs out of the car to wave him over. He looks tired, a little worse for wear; his scruff is longer than she's used to seeing it and his hair is sticking up in all directions, but he smiles brightly when he sees her.
As soon as he reaches her side, he releases his hold on his luggage and wraps her in a massive hug, nearly knocking her over. The car at her back steadies them and she closes her eyes in satisfaction at the feel of having him in her arms again. With his face pressed against her neck, hidden behind the curtain of her hair, she feels him inhale deeply and then sag heavily against her. "Bloody hell, Emma, it's good to see you."
A ridiculous laugh bubbles up in her chest and she squeezes him tightly, not quite ready to let him go. The driver of the van behind her honks his horn though, and it's enough to have Killian pulling back out of the embrace. Running her hand down his arm to squeeze his hand, Emma nods toward the passenger seat and opens the trunk. "Go, sit. Chocolaty caffeinated goodness awaits. I'll get your bags."
When Killian nods off holding her hand less than half an hour into the drive, Emma doesn't take offense; she's just happy to have him next to her again. The sun sets as she drives and it's impossible to stop herself from glancing over at him every so often. The golden light sets his beard aflame, shadows contouring the curves of his cheeks and the soft lines around his eyes, and Emma briefly wonders if it would be considered creepy to stay up half the night watching him sleep.
He doesn't wake until she comes to a stop in front of Granny's. At nearly 8 o'clock, twilight has settled over the town. Brushing an unruly lock of hair from his forehead, Emma meets him halfway across the console for a sleepy kiss.
"The order's all set, I just have to run in and grab it," she tells him as she scratches her nails against the scruff covering his jaw. "You can wait here if you want."
Killian shakes his head though. "I'll come with, love. I've been seated on my arse most of the day; I need to stretch."
The trip into Granny's is thankfully brief, and other than a short exchange with one of Mary Margaret's coworkers, no one approaches them with the intent of starting up a conversation.
The short nap and coffee seem to have helped, because Killian remains awake for the drive home, and after they eat, devouring the food as if they've been starved, he insists on joining her out in the barn for night check.
It's good to see him back in his element, tossing hay and whispering quietly to one of his favourite geldings as he pauses to scratches the horse's neck. Avast and Duke follow him around, practically glued to his heels, and Emma can't help but laugh when the pup almost trips him for the third time in less than a minute.
When they finally convince the dogs to go outside and get out of their way, Emma sweeps, playfully swatting at Killian with the broom when he blocks her path, and as she passes Nala's stall, the mare nudges at her shoulder with a gentle nicker. "I'll ride you tomorrow," Emma promises the appaloosa. "It's too dark out now."
Killian lifts an eyebrow and crosses the aisle to stand next to her. "You've ridden her?"
Emma nods and moves willingly toward him when he hooks a finger through a belt loop on her jeans and tugs. "Just a walk and a bit of trot in the round pen the last two days, but she's been amazing."
Looping an arm around her waist, Killian pulls her in for another hug. "You're amazing," he whispers against her forehead. "You know that, right?"
With a goofy grin, Emma leans back to catch his eyes. "Yeah, I know." She pokes at his chest and goes in for a quick kiss. "But feel free to remind me as often as you want."
One kiss turns into two and before she knows it, they've lost almost 15 minutes just standing there in each other's arms. The horses munch happily on their hay, and outside, crickets chirp in a tempered chorus, the cooler weather of approaching autumn decreasing the tempo of the insect's song.
Eventually Killian yawns though, and it's at that point that Emma turns him around and pushes him toward the door of the barn. "You should go to bed."
"I should shower," he says through another yawn.
"Go," she tells him with another gentle push. "I'll finish in here and be up soon." And it's a testament to how tired he must be that he doesn't even argue.
She waits until he's crossed the driveway and disappeared into the garage to pick up the broom and finish sweeping. After that, filling water buckets doesn't take long, and she double checks the latches on the stall doors before switching off the lights and calling out "g'night, ponies!" to the herd.
The dogs come running when she calls, and in an effort not to trip, fall down the stairs, or break a leg, she sends them scrambling up in front of her. She enters the apartment to find Killian standing there, freshly showered and dressed in nothing but a pair of boxers. He appears to be considering pyjama pants. That or he's just staring into space while facing the open drawer of the dresser. Whatever the case, she'd prefer that he remain in his current state of undress.
"Into bed with you," she declares, kicking off her boots by the door.
Turning slowly to give her a sleepy smile, he flips the covers back and flops rather inelegantly to the mattress. He pats the spot next to him. "C'mon, love, don't make a man sleep alone."
Giggling at the absurdity of the statement – as if she'd actually make him sleep alone – she makes a quick trip to the bathroom to brush her teeth before shedding all but her underwear and tank top. Switching off the lights, she shoos the dogs from the bed and then crawls in next to him. He's still damp from his shower, spicy-scented and smells like heaven.
"Tomorrow I'll show you what I found at my father's," he promises, his voice already sleep-slurred. Tugging her closer, he tangles their legs together and wraps her up in the heat of his solid embrace. A whiskered kiss falls against the curve of her jaw. "I'm glad I'm home."
She couldn't agree more.
Saturday morning finds them slipping easily back into their usual routine; steady banter sounding in the barn as they muck stalls across from each other. They work slowly, easily distracted by each other whenever their paths cross while dumping wheelbarrows, and it's almost noon by the time they hang up the pitchforks and finally sweep out the barn.
Killian is appalled by her eating habits in his absence ("you've eaten at Granny's how many times already this week?") and it doesn't take much convincing before she relents and allows him to whip up something healthy for lunch.
Grilled veggies and salmon come off the barbeque to be heaped next to a spinach and strawberry salad, and as much as Emma might like to make a face at the very idea of a salad consisting primarily of spinach, she trusts Killian's culinary skills enough to know that if she complained, she'd likely just end up eating her words the minute she took a bite.
The sun is high and warm in the sky, and with a small fire burning, it's still more than warm enough to eat outside despite the northwest wind blowing down from the mountains.
Just as they're about to sit down to eat, Killian stands and jogs back to the apartment. When he returns a minute later, it's with a faded old photo album and a wooden box. "You've probably been dying of curiosity, so I figured we could look through these while we eat."
Taking a bite of salmon speared with spinach, she sits her plate on the bench beside her and reaches for the photo album. "Please tell me there are embarrassing childhood photos in here?"
It turns out there are. Her favourite being of a chubby 3 year old Killian dressed in nothing but underwear; underwear in their rightful place around his hips, but also as a hat on his head, his unruly hair and elfish ears sticking out through the leg holes of the bright blue undergarment.
She gets a good laugh out of that at his expense, insisting that it be shared with her parents, and a further look through the album showcases several pictures of both his mother and father. Emma finds herself tearing up while studying an absolutely beautiful photograph of the vibrant redhead, and she notes that though Killian clearly gets his blue eyes from his mother, he otherwise bears striking resemblance to his father.
The box contains even more clues as to Killian's childhood. There's a colourful collection of sea glass that he'd thought long lost, and she holds his hand, a pale-green marble of sea glass clasped between their palms as he shares the memory of the day he picked it up while walking the beach with an 11 year old Liam and his dying mother.
There are a couple pieces of childhood art; an awkward looking horse drawn by a young Killian and a rather impressive ship depicted in stunning detail by a much older Liam. There's a faded blue t-shirt sporting both Killian and Liam's child-sized handprints in bright red paint, and finally, a Polaroid of a 6 year old Liam holding a newborn Killian.
When they've finished looking at it and Killian reverently packs up the items, Emma says a silent thank you to the universe, glad that for all his father's shortcomings, the man wasn't entirely heartless.
The early afternoon involves a fair amount of tongue-in-cheek conversation while attempting to send Joan and Linda on their way in a timely manner, and after that, it's trail rides and chores running right up until the dinner hour. Leftover salmon and peppers from lunch get mixed with pasta for a quick supper, and afterwards, Emma insists on trying Nala out on a leisurely sunset trail ride.
They stick to the fenced-in portions of the ranch, Killian leading the way through each gated section of field, and Emma is beyond impressed by the relatively untrained mare's willingness to follow along without issue.
All goes well until they come across a neighbouring field of cattle that are mostly hidden by the tall grass. One of the grazing Herefords lifts its head and moos loudly, and Nala, apparently never having come across a cow before, jumps nearly 10 feet sideways. Emma lands on her ass in the soft grass, no worse for the wear, laughing as the mare snorts suspiciously at what she probably thinks are a herd of really strange looking horses.
From her relatively comfortable landing spot on the ground, Emma watches as the curious appaloosa mare slowly inches toward the fence. It takes a moment, but the mare touches noses with one of the more interested cattle, snorts in acceptance, and then lowers her head, as if nothing happened, to casually take a bite of the tall grass.
Killian simply looks from her, to the horse, and back again before breaking out in laughter.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" she accuses, doing her best to look disgruntled as she pulls a clump of burs from the end of her ponytail and removes her helmet.
"Aye, love, I certainly am," he admits as he dismounts and steps towards her. "You all right?"
Emma nods and he offers his hand. "Nowhere else I'd rather be," she tells him as she grabs his hand, hooks his ankle with her boot, and pulls him down, unsuspecting, to lie in the grass next to her. "How about you?" she asks cheekily when he rolls onto his side to face her.
With a smile on his face, he shifts closer, intently focused on her lips. When he's close enough that she can feel the warmth of his breath – can practically taste him – he looks up and meets her eyes. "By your side is where I'll always long to be, Emma. You should know that by now. But if you really want me to say it, I'll gladly admit that there truly is nowhere else I'd rather be." And then, because occasionally he still prides himself on being an insufferable pain in her ass, he points out, "though, we are about to miss the sunset."
"You know what?" Emma groans, rolling her eyes as she grabs a fistful of his shirt and pulls him in for a kiss. "I think I'm okay with the view right here."