Chapter 22.
Lunch was tense with Nick and Emily saying very little and avoiding each other. Jarrod and Victoria made their best efforts to make table conversation and lighten the general mood, but their efforts proved futile. When the meal was finished, Jarrod announced he had work to do in town that afternoon. It was a lie. Victoria said she thought she would accompany him as she had some errands to do in town. That, too, was a lie. They stood, politely excused themselves from the quiet table, left the room and, moments later, the house.
Nick sat back in his chair, arms folded across his chest, and looked across the table at Emily.
Emily had spent most of the entire meal with her eyes downcast, rarely looking up to avoid making eye contact with Nick. When she heard the front door open and close, she looked up and met Nick's glare.
"If you'll excuse me," she said curtly but calmly as she stood, placing her napkin gently on the table. Nick watched her as she walked around the table, past him, and exited the room. She was heading for the piano. She wanted to pound on it. Maybe Beethoven.
Nick got up from the table when she left the room and followed her down the short hall. Taking long, fast strides, he quickly caught up with her and grabbed her by the arm which caused her to stop, turn, and face him.
"We need to talk this out, Emily. Here and now and for good," he said tensely but released her arm. She turned away and continued walking into the parlor where she stopped and turned to him again, still standing in the hallway.
"Nick, I'm telling you, I'm not ready." Her voice was breaking.
"And I'm telling you you're a coward!" he stated loudly, almost shouting.
"I am not!" She meant to sound defiant, but she was starting to cry and the statement made her sound like a petulant child.
Nick marched into the parlor and stood close enough to touch her but he didn't. Instead, he pointed at the air, and at her, and shouted, "YES! YOU ARE A COWARD! YOU'RE AFRAID OF PARTIES, AFRAID OF PEOPLE, AFRAID OF ANYTHING NEW, ANYTHING OUTSIDE OF YOUR OWN COCOON! YOU'RE AFRAID OF LIFE!"
"Nick," she pleaded, only one tear had slipped out, and she was trying very hard to maintain calm and reason. "I don't think I'm ready and I don't think you mean what you say. I think with Heath and Sarah so close to marriage, and Audra's engagement, you're – "
He interrupted her and he was still shouting.
"NO! THIS ISN'T ABOUT HEATH OR AUDRA OR ANYBODY ELSE! AND IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ANY FUTURE CHILDREN, WHOEVER THEY BELONG TO! THIS IS ABOUT YOU AND ME!" He then pointed at her and repeated, "YOU," and back at himself, "AND ME!."
Emily started towards The Billiards Room to move the shouting away from Silas and anyone else who might be able to hear.
"DON'T YOU WALK AWAY FROM ME!" He was shouting even louder now.
She stopped, turned around, and walked back into the parlor. He can shout all he wants, she thought, it won't change a thing, and I will hold firm. But she was shattered by his anger, by this argument. She really wanted to cry but she didn't; crying would undermine her position.
They stood looking at each other silently, each one hurt.
Nick walked over to the table that held the liquor decanters and she watched him intently. As he poured himself a glass of whisky, he calmly stated, "I should know better than to fall in love with a married woman." Then he drained the whisky down his throat and slammed the empty glass down on the table.
"What?" asked Emily, barely audible.
He walked over to her, standing very close, straightened himself up as tall as he could, looked down at her and stated, "You're still married to Sam Powell."
He held her gaze for a moment then walked over to the coat rack, grabbed his jacket and gun belt.
Emily continued watching him in stunned silence. She watched him as he strapped on his gun belt and put on his jacket.
When he was done, he picked up his hat and looked at her.
Calmly, he told her, "You know, I can fight a Joe Finch or any other cowpoke who catches your eye, but I can't fight a ghost."
And with that, he put on his hat, turned on his heel and walked out of the house, slamming the door shut behind him.