Emerson nodded. They seemed to be alike in that—wanting family around. “You think Cass, Brian and the rest of them know how lucky they are?”
“Yes—and no,” Wye said after a moment. “I don’t think you can know unless you’ve done without.”
Emerson agreed with her.
“I’m pretty tired,” Wye said when she’d settled Elise into her crib. “I think I’ll hang out with her until she’s asleep, then hit the hay myself.”
“Good night, then.” Emerson leaned in and kissed her cheek, not even thinking about what he was doing until he’d done it. He didn’t apologize, though; it felt right.
“Night,” Wye said softly.
The next morning the General surprised Emerson when he asked to come along to the Park. Wyoming was long gone. She’d gone to Ward’s house to talk with him about what he planned to do next. Emerson would have liked to sit in on that meeting, but then Wye would have to explain who he was, and that would open another can of worms. One crisis was enough for now, he supposed.
Although the trailers were only a quarter mile away, he drove the General in the pickup truck he’d leased after arriving at Chance Creek. The General was footing the bill, but he wouldn’t be able to drive himself until his hip healed. When they arrived at the Park, Emerson kept close when the General got out of the truck and hobbled over the uneven, snowy ground, leaning heavily on his cane. He was afraid the man might trip and hurt himself all over again.
“This is the one.” Emerson gestured at the blue-and-white-striped trailer he had chosen to work on first.
“Ugly son of a gun, isn’t it?” the General said, looking it over.
“That’s what makes it perfect,” Emerson told him. “That one down at the end is too new to tear apart. I figure it’s perfect to rent to Buck.”
“If it’s new, why don’t you want to live in that one?” the General asked.
“It doesn’t have any soul. This one I can make my own—if I stay.”
“You’re staying,” the General asserted.
“I will if you talk about it with the others and they all agree to have me, sir.” Emerson wasn’t going to back down on that point.
“You’ve picked well,” the General said, ignoring him. “You start with something perfect, and it will never be truly yours. If you pick something a little rough around the edges, you can buff it up just the way you like it.”
Emerson wondered if that was how the General saw him. Maybe it was the way he saw all the men he had handpicked and sent home to marry his daughters. Every one of them flawed, every one of them able to be buffed up into something better. He hoped the General liked the way he was turning out.
Hoped everyone else would in the end, too.
“I’m pretty sure Buck will want that first one,” he said. “I’ll find a contract online, and you can tell me what you want for rent.”
“You’ll need to take a percentage as a management fee,” the General said.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. There’s no reason you should be paying me to do the job when any of the other men could do it just as easily and save you the fee.”
“The others have enough ranch work to keep them busy,” the General countered. “A man needs an income, especially a man who’s looking for a wife. How’s that going, by the way?”
“Fine. Or it would be, if I ever got to spend any time with Wyoming.”
“Cass told me about her brother’s wife. Sloppy work there,” he added disgustedly. “A man ought to keep watch on his woman, make sure she doesn’t wander away.”
Emerson turned to hide the smile he couldn’t quite suppress. “I’m not sure Ward was expecting his wife to wander away, sir.”
“Vigilance. That’s the trick,” the General said. He looked the trailers over again. “I see what you mean about this one, and I have no doubt you could make something special out of it, but I don’t like the idea of you and Wyoming living all the way down here. Jo and Hunter are building a house close to the main one. I wouldn’t be surprised if another house or two gets built, as well. That’s where you should build, too—close to the others.”
“Wyoming and I will do just fine down here. If we marry. And if we stay.” And it would keep Lena happier, Emerson thought privately. Maybe she’d even agree to giving them a share in the ranch.
“Do I stink or something?” The General turned on him testily. “Need to keep your distance?”
“You know it’s nothing like that, sir.”
“Well, whatever it is, I don’t like it.”
The man knew exactly what it was. Emerson decided not to argue with him. He’d get nowhere when the General was in this kind of mood. “You don’t want me to fix up the trailer?” he asked instead.
The General glowered at him. “Never said that. Go ahead. Just don’t get too attached to it. You and Wyoming need a real house. You talk to her, figure out how many kids you are going to have, how many bedrooms you’ll need. We’ll get it sorted out.”
Children? Emerson wanted kids, of course, but they were getting a little ahead of themselves. First he needed some time alone with Wyoming. Then he needed to convince her to actually marry him. Then Cass, Brian and the others needed to buy in to the idea of them staying.
How was he supposed to know ahead of time how many kids he wanted, anyway?
“Just ask her,” the General said as if he’d read Emerson’s mind. “Get a ballpark figure. Five? Ten?” He shrugged.
This time Emerson didn’t hide a smile. “Ten? That seems excessive.”
“Especially if you’re going to live in a trailer,” the General said.
Wyoming shifted Elise to her other arm and knocked on Ward’s door again. When he still didn’t answer, she fished her keys out of her purse and let herself in, figuring he must be in the shower. It had probably been a long night. Had he and Steve stayed up late talking?
The minute she stepped into the house, she wrinkled her nose. It smelled like a bar in here. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she noticed the bottles on the coffee table in Ward’s small living room. She moved from window to window, raising the shades, set Elise down on a blanket on the floor and began to collect the empties.
She hoped the number of them meant some more of Ward’s friends came over to console him. She set the bottles on the kitchen counter to rinse later and hurried back to check on Elise. The little girl was mobile enough to get into trouble at a moment’s notice.
“Ward?” she called. “You here?”
There was no answer. With a sigh, she picked up Elise again, settled her on her hip and headed down the short hall to the bedrooms. Ward slept in the largest at the end of the hall. The door was firmly shut, so Wye rapped loudly on it with her knuckles.
An indeterminate noise emanated from the bedroom.
“Ward? I’m here with Elise. We’d better talk about schedules, don’t you think? Aren’t you going to work?”
Ward groaned again. She thought he said something about being sick.
“We need to talk,” she said again. She understood Mindy’s desertion must be hard to process, but Elise hadn’t seen either parent in days. “I’ve got Elise with me,” she added again for good measure.