The Fifth Season Read Online Free Page A

are definitely tell-tale signs of crying.”
    “This is what’s making my face all funny,” she said, waving a large yellow onion at him. She brought it closer and shoved it beneath his nose. “I don’t waste time on emotional release, it’s too draining.”
    “I see,” he said, pushing the offending vegetable away. “I apologize for jumping to conclusions.” His eyes widened as a fresh batch of tears pooled in a sudden emerald ocean. She pursed her lower lip and turned away. “Hey, I’m sorry, okay?” he said.
    “Shut up,” she retorted, a slight waver to her voice. “I’m not crying.”
    “I can see that,” he said, although he was certain that this time she was definitely crying, especially when the tears spilled over her bottom lashes and snaked lazily down her cheek.
    “Good, I’m glad you understand my position,” she hiccupped. Waving the knife in his face, she began to say something but stopped when the blade fell off and clattered to the deck. She bent down spewing words that burned even his well-seasoned ears.
    He was trying very hard not to laugh. It would be mean to laugh, but her language tickled something he’d thought dead a long time ago. “You’d better take your onion back to the kitchen before it has you sobbing.”
    “Thank you, I’ll do just that.” Emma O’Malley turned to walk back into the kitchen. She glanced one last time over her shoulder, and Stone knew he’d better run…which is exactly what he did. Spinning on his heels, he dashed back down the deck, around the end of the house, and into the safety of the master suite.
    As soon as the glass doors were shut, he burst out laughing. He laughed so hard, his side hurt. How would his therapist define this behavior? Insanity, he figured.
    “I have no clue what you’re laughing at,” she said, stopping his heart and scaring him silly.
    “Where’d you come from?” he gasped.
    She pointed to the main entrance to his room and swept past him to the bathroom door. “I believe I left something here.”
    “Yes, you did,” he grinned and started to laugh again. He didn’t understand why this woman’s discomfort made him want to sit down and haul her onto his lap. He wiped his watering eyes and sat down on the bed.
    “Are you crying?” she asked, an innocent tone to her voice that sent warning signals zinging around his brain.
    “No, are you spying?” he said.
    She smiled slightly, a spark of amusement dancing in her eyes. “This was my room.”
    “You can have it back.”
    “I don’t want it. I want River Run.”
    “I can’t do that, I’m sorry.”
    “I understand.” Emma turned and reached behind the bathroom door. Snagging her nightgown, she wrapped it into a small ball. “I’m sorry I bothered you.”
    “I’m positive you don’t understand, Ms. O’Malley.” Stone heard the sharp tones to his voice and winced as the fragile string of friendly banter snapped. Just as well, he thought. The fear of this woman suddenly escalated from zero to ten. She was dangerous.
    She made him feel.
     
    ***
     
    Emma stalked behind her desk and sank into the worn leather chair that had seen River Run from its days of barely being able to pay the mortgage to its current status. Her fist still clutched the soft fabric of her nightgown.
    She’d been furious to find him attacking Pocahontas. The Pot Bellied pig was her last link to love and affection. Nate Connor handed her over when Emma first arrived, and she’d latched onto the squirmy, tiny piglet with all the adoration her young heart held. She’d accepted the responsibility and worked hard to make the pig happy. The pet was her lifeline back to reality and away from the horror that often invaded her sleep.
    Stone was nothing like his father. He’d never offer a kind hand to a kid in need.
    But he was right about one thing, she didn’t understand. Margaret promised to provide for her, keep her secret, and keep her safe. She’d promised.
    Her throat caught, and