No answer.
She moved to the kitchen, settled Elise in her high chair, gave her a toy to distract her and started pulling out the makings for a big breakfast for Ward. Surely the smell of bacon would rouse him.
Thirty minutes later and still no sign of her brother, Wye was losing patience. She called Steve.
“Morning,” he answered cheerfully. He wasn’t any worse for wear after a hard night’s drinking, Wye thought.
“Steve, it’s Wye. I’m worried about Ward. He won’t get up.”
“He really tied one on last night. Better let him sleep it off.”
“Did you talk to him? Did he say what he’s going to do?”
“Honey, the last thing your brother wanted to do last night was talk. We watched the game.”
While she took care of Elise and worried about him? She bit back a caustic reply. “He isn’t going to work.”
“Won’t need that fancy house without Mindy to have to impress,” Steve remarked.
Wye looked around her. This was a fancy house in Steve’s opinion?
“He’s still got a daughter to raise. She needs a roof over her head and food on the table.”
For the first time, Steve seemed uneasy. “Yeah, I know. Don’t think Ward’s in a mindset to do much fathering. You might need to pitch in a little.”
That was obvious. “I guess I’ll take her back to Two Willows.”
“That’s a great idea. I’ll stop by after work to see Ward.”
She wasn’t sure if she should be comforted or worried. “Don’t let him drink. He needs to go to work, and he needs to hire a sitter.”
“Sure. No drinking.” Steve chuckled.
Wye hung up and shook her head at Ward’s breakfast getting cold on the table and the dirty dishes she’d made.
He could deal with the aftermath of the meal, she decided, if and when he ever decided to get up.
“Come on, Elise. We came all this way to town. Might as well get some errands done.”
She took her time, stopping in at the bank, the post office and the library. It seemed everyone she met wanted to greet Elise and coo over her, and once she got over her irritation with Ward, she began to enjoy herself. She stopped in at Fila’s Familia restaurant for lunch, and both Fila Matheson and Camila Whitfield came out of the kitchen to greet her and play with the baby. Fila warmed Elise’s bottle, then went back to cooking while Camila insisted on feeding Elise her baby food while Wye enjoyed a plate of fajitas.
It was early afternoon—time for Elise’s nap—when she reached Two Willows. To her surprise Cass was nowhere in sight when she came in the back door, but Emerson was elbows deep in sudsy water, cleaning up from the midday meal.
“Hey, what are you two doing back so early?” Emerson approached and touched Elise’s nose with a sudsy finger. Elise shrieked happily.
“Wye? What’s going on?” Cass appeared in the doorway. “Emerson, what are you doing with my dishes?”
“Cleaning them.” He returned to the sink and got busy again.
“That’s not your job. I was just switching a load of laundry into the dryer. I was coming right back.”
“I’m happy to help,” Emerson said, setting another plate on the drying rack. “I’ve always liked getting things back in their places.”
“Do you even know where their places are?” Cass asked, fluttering around behind him as if angling to get to her accustomed position at the sink. “You haven’t been here that long.”
“I’ve been here for weeks.” Emerson faced her, clearly taken aback. “It’s no big deal, Cass. Like I said, I’m happy to help.”
“Which is very nice of him,” Wyoming added pointedly. “I don’t know about you, Cass, but I appreciate it when someone gives me a break from chores.”
Cass bit her lip. “You’re right,” she admitted wryly. “Thank you, Emerson,” she added. “It just feels wrong to me when a guest does housework. But Wyoming is right; I have plenty of other things I can do, including hanging out with my husband. But first, why don’t I get Elise down for her nap and you two can talk.”
“Thanks.” Wye gave Elise a kiss and a snuggle and handed Cass the baby and her bag. When she was gone, Emerson braced his hands on the counter and sighed.
“She didn’t mean that,” Wye hurried to assure him, knowing instinctively which part of the conversation with Cass was bothering him. “She didn’t even realize what she said.”
“But that’s how everyone sees me. As a guest.”
“That’s how they see me, too, despite what Cass says. But what can we expect?”
“The General assured me there’s a place for me—and you—on the ranch. I’m not ready to give that up yet, but if push comes to shove, I’ll work as hard as I can to make us a home somewhere else. I want you to know that.”
Wye wasn’t sure what to say. On the one hand, his assurance that she wanted him to make her a home was galling. On the other hand, it was… She didn’t know what it was, but it was something. Something that tugged at a place in her that wasn’t rational.
The handsome soldier washing Cass’s dishes wanted to make a home for her.
Who else had ever wanted to do that?
“Let’s worry about one thing at a time,” she said. “I need to sort things out with my brother. You need to help the General—and fix those trailers.”
Emerson perked up. “How about tomorrow we can go out there, and I’ll show you what I’m planning. We could bring Elise.” He cocked his head, fishing another dish out of the soapy water and washing it. “Did things go well with Ward?”
“No, not at all. He drank so much last night he couldn’t get out of bed this morning. I finally gave up,” she admitted, hoping Emerson didn’t notice how worried she was.
“He did get some pretty bad news.”
Wye was pretty sure Emerson wouldn’t get drunk in similar circumstances, but all she could do was shrug. “I’ll call him later. He’s got to get up sometime. Tell me about what you’re doing at the Park.” She fetched a towel from one of the drawers and started drying the stack of clean dishes.
“I picked one of the trailers to start with.” Emerson seemed to understand she wanted to talk about something different. “I’ll swap out the siding, take the interior down to the studs and rebuild it. It won’t look like a trailer at all by the time I’m finished with it.”
“That sounds like an interesting project. What will happen to it when you’re done?”
He gave her a funny look. “I’m hoping you’ll move into it with me,” he said.
Suddenly the events of the morning and her frazzled emotions caught up with her, and Wye set the dish she’d been drying down on the counter with a thump. “Too soon,” she told him. “I’ve got too much on my plate to talk about things like that right now.”
Emerson gave her a long look, but in the end he only nodded. “Guess you’re right. But it’d help to know your opinion on the matter. Could you be happy in a refurbished trailer? Or do you need something nicer?”