“I don’t dislike it,” Wye said after a moment’s hesitation.
That wasn’t saying much. He leaned back. “You wouldn’t mind the commute?”
“I hadn’t intended to commute,” she said softly. When Emerson didn’t answer that, she met his gaze.
“You make me wonder if I’ve made myself clear,” he said softly. “I’m looking for a lifetime with you, Wyoming. I’d like to share my future with you. I’m happy to share running the Park with you. I’m happy to support you if you want to work in Billings or Bozeman, although I’ll worry about you driving that commute in winter.” He flashed her a smile. “I know the General is trying to box you in, trying to sort things out too fast for you. You don’t have to make up your mind yet, although I’d hoped you already had.” He reached out, took her hand and stroked a thumb over her palm. “I’ve been in love with you since the moment I saw you. I know that’s the oldest line in the book, but there it is: it’s true. How about we give living at Two Willows and being a part of it a try? You help me with the rentals, and I’ll help you with Elise, and we’ll see what happens.”
“Cass said we should keep a percentage of the rent we earn and pay the rest into the general operations account for the ranch. The others would like to help us with renovations one day a week. You provide the list of what needs to be done, and they’ll provide the labor.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I do want to try,” Wye admitted. “I just… don’t want to fail.”
“Honey.” He wanted to draw her into his arms, but that would have to wait for later. Instead he squeezed her hand. “Maybe we don’t have to fail.”
She nodded.
“Wye. Look at me.” He waited until she did so. “How about we decide to succeed?”
After a moment, she nodded again.
Emerson was still thinking about their conversation when he drove the General into Billings the following day. Wyoming had shared his bed last night—but for only part of the night, slipping back to her own room after they’d been together.
“I’m not ready to share our status with everyone else,” she’d said.
Emerson doubted anyone was unaware of what they were doing, but he’d held his tongue. Wyoming valued her independence, and if he pushed her, he might not like the consequences. He couldn’t blame her for being wary of trusting him or the General and his family all that much; he knew her own family had let her down. Her concerns plucked at his own. He might talk a good game about trusting the General, but he knew how quickly someone’s patronage could slip away.
“Looking forward to this?” he asked the General as they neared the reserve station.
The General grunted, but Emerson knew he was. The man needed to be useful. He sat ramrod straight in the passenger seat, alert and ready.
While most of their time at the reserve station had been spent on preparation and paperwork so far, today was the beginning of the unit’s once-a-month training weekend. The General took his duties seriously, and as usual, Emerson functioned as his right-hand man, making sure he had everything he needed, being his legs when something was out of his reach, transmitting information to the other officers who headed up the active training sessions.
The work gave the General a renewed sense of purpose, and Emerson liked it, too, even if his injuries sidelined him from serving in a more active way. He could almost forget his bum ankle as he hustled around, and when the reservists learned that he’d been overseas when he was injured, most of them treated him with a kind of deference that soothed something bitter in him he hadn’t realized he was harboring.
So when he exited the General’s on-site office at the end of the weekend, tired and happy from the experience, it was a blow to overhear some of the trainees as they prepared to return to their homes.
“I can see why they hired the General. The man’s a legend. I don’t care if he’s injured; he knows stuff worth listening to. But Sergeant Myers? What’s his deal? There’s plenty of men around who can do the General’s errands for him.”
“I heard he’s never even been in the field,” another man said. “Spent his whole time at USSOCOM in Florida. Pretty cushy, if you ask me.”
“He got that limp overseas, you idiot,” a third man said.
“His first time overseas.”
Emerson pulled back into the General’s office and closed the door, figuring he’d wait to leave until they were gone. Confronting them would make him feel like a fool. They’d back right down, of course. They couldn’t insult him to his face when he worked for the General. He’d prefer knowing how they really felt.
“Why are you malingering there?” the General said when he’d packed his briefcase. “Thought you were going to load our bags into the truck.”
“Yes, sir,” Emerson said. He opened the door again. The reserve men had scattered, and he exited the building, all his satisfaction in the weekend gone. This was just one more place he’d never really belong.
“Isn’t this the cutest thing you ever saw?” Cass held up a pale-green baby onesie dotted with tiny dinosaurs.
“Everything in this store is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Wyoming told her truthfully. They’d driven to Bozeman to go shopping, and Wye was discovering that baby clothes were like candy—absolutely delicious and hard on your wallet.
“Look at these!” Cass pounced on a pair of soft baby slippers made to look like cowboy boots.
“Should we just grab one of everything in the shop?”
“I wish we could.”
Wye had to admit Cass was showing remarkable restraint, all in all. She had several bags of purchases, but she’d picked up and put down hundreds of items that were just as darling as the ones she’d bought.
“I’m so glad you’ll be at Two Willows when the baby is born.”
Wye made a noncommittal sound. That was several months away, after all, and despite her conversation with Emerson the night before, who knew what might happen in the meantime.
“Wye? You will be at Two Willows in March, won’t you?”
“I… hope so.”
“What does that mean?” Cass put down the baby boots.
“I’d like to be. And things are going well with Emerson. But—”
“But what?” She sorted through items on the display table but kept her gaze on Wye.
“Honestly? I don’t entirely understand why you’d want me to be.” Wye hadn’t meant to say that—especially not here—but the truth slipped out before she could stop it. “I mean, we’re friends, and it’s been fun to have a long visit. I get that. But you’ve got a husband, a baby coming. All your sisters, their husbands and your father live on the ranch. Why on earth would you want me there permanently, too?”
Cass let the sweater she was holding fall on top of the others, and Wye’s heart contracted as her friend’s eyes filled with tears.
“Cass,” Wye said.
“I forget sometimes how short a time you’ve known me,” Cass said finally, blinking back the dampness in her eyes. “It feels like we’ve shared so much, but we really haven’t.”