“I don’t think so.” He tried to be nonchalant. “My ankle probably won’t support me.”
Wye’s face fell. “Of course. We can find something else to do.”
“You can still come and look at the stars,” Cass urged them. “There will be telescopes set up, too. The Night Sky Party is an annual fundraiser. It’s for a good cause.”
“What do you think?” Wye asked.
“Sure.” But Emerson already dreaded it. What were the chances someone wouldn’t suggest he give skating a try—just to see if he could do it after all?
The following night, his prediction came true. He might have known it would be Lena who issued him the challenge. When he and Wye joined everyone at the Night Sky festival, they all took their turns at the telescopes to look at the moon, the Milky Way and a planet. But as soon as they were through, Lena shouted, “Last one on the ice is a rotten egg! Come on!”
Most of the family hurried after her—even Cass. She’d declared that she was perfectly capable of skating calmly around the edge of the rink with Brian to shield her from anyone who lost control.
Wye stuck with Emerson. “Let’s check out the bonfire,” she suggested.
But just then Lena turned back to see if there were any stragglers. “Wye, come on!”
“You go ahead,” Emerson told her. “I’ll watch.” He hoped she didn’t know how much it pained him to hold back. He’d always loved to skate. Had played endless rounds of hockey on the frozen pond with all his cousins, an activity his aunt and uncle accepted if all their other chores were done.
“Are you sure? I can stay with you if you like. Or maybe you could give it a try? We could stick to the edge of the rink, like Cass is. You could lean on me.”
He bit back a sharp retort, knowing Wye didn’t deserve it. He couldn’t help feel a stab of betrayal, though. She was with him constantly. She knew he was injured.
“You don’t have to,” she said quickly. “I’ve just noticed that when you’re not thinking about your ankle, you seem to do pretty well getting around.”
“I can walk okay,” he told her. “That doesn’t mean I can skate.”
“You don’t have to,” she said again, but Lena was still waiting.
“Come on, Myers. You’ve been walking all over the ranch,” she called. “If you can walk, you can skate.”
Hell. Was that a challenge? Or did Lena simply want to see him fall on his ass? He had a feeling that though she was trying her best to overlook it, she still resented his closeness to her father.
“Fine,” he said to Wye. “Let’s try. But if I fall, you’ll have to drag me off,” he warned her. Humiliation was good for the soul, right? People would keep on pushing him until they saw for themselves the extent of the damage to his ankle.
“I will,” she promised him. “Come on.”
It took time to rent their skates and get them on, but all too soon, Emerson was limping toward the ice, leaning more heavily than he’d have liked on Wye’s shoulder. His gut was tight with discomfort. For all his bravado, he hated the idea of everyone seeing his weakness.
“This isn’t going to work,” he said.
“Maybe not. I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
Easy for her to sound so chipper about it. She wasn’t the one who’d be crashing on the hard ice in another minute.
Wye stepped onto the little rink first, got her bearings and then extended a hand to him. “You’ve skated before, haven’t you?”
“Plenty.” He stepped gingerly onto the ice with his good foot.
“That will make it easier.” Wye supported him as he stepped forward with his injured ankle. He winced as he tried to put weight on it, feeling how weak it was, balanced on the thin blade.
“Easy does it.” Hunter appeared on his other side and offered an arm.
“I’m fine.” Emerson waved him away. It was bad enough having to lean on Wye.
“Let’s make sure of that. Don’t want to set back your recovery, right?”
“I’m not a child,” Emerson growled.
“No one said you were. Plenty of other grown-ups are accepting help.” Hunter pointed, and Emerson lifted his head. Hunter was right; there were several families and groups of friends supporting grown men and women who obviously didn’t know how to skate yet.
“I know how to skate. It’s just my ankle.”
“Which is why I’m here. Lean on me for a minute, and when you don’t need me anymore, I’ll disappear.”
Emerson knew he was being a jackass for refusing help. “Fine.” He bit off the word, took Hunter’s arm, pushed off and was pleased when his hurt ankle didn’t buckle. The exercises he’d been doing daily had helped a lot, and he felt a lot stronger lately. He took a few more experimental glides on his skates.
“Not bad,” Hunter said.
“Ankle’s improved more than I thought.”
“Five minutes. Ten at the most, this first time,” Hunter warned him. “Don’t screw up things for future Emerson by pushing today Emerson too hard.”
“Words to live by,” Wye said.
“See you around.” Hunter skated off and left them.
“You’re steady?” Wye asked.
“Feels good,” Emerson confirmed. “This was a good idea,” he admitted a few minutes later after they’d made it around the rink twice.
“It was, wasn’t it? I’d forgotten how much I like winter sports,” Wye said. “I’ve been a real stick in the mud these past few years.”
“When your life gets turned upside down, it’s hard not to want to dig in and make conservative choices.”
“Is that what you’ve been doing?” she asked.
He thought about it. “It’s what I wanted to do, but instead I guess I’m taking some leaps of faith. Sometimes…” He watched Jack whizz by, executing perfect crossovers as he wove in between the other skaters. “Sometimes it’s hard to feel I stack up with the other guys here.”
“You do, though. You know that, right?” Wye kept going, though he thought she wanted to stop and face him. He had a feeling she was afraid if they stopped, he wouldn’t be able to get going again.
“No,” he said honestly. “I’ll do whatever I can to strengthen my ankle, and I’ll be almost as good as new someday, but I won’t be like I was—or like Jack and the other men here still are.”
“Your ankle has nothing to do with who you are,” Wye said. “Who you are is in your heart, in your words and your actions. You are more man than just about anyone I’ve ever met, Emerson.”
He was the one who stopped. Tugged her to the side of the rink so they wouldn’t block anyone. “Don’t feel you have to—”
Wye put a hand on his chest.
“Emerson Myers, shut up and listen. I wouldn’t hitch my wagon to a lesser man. I deserve the best, and as far as I’ve seen, the best is you. Own it, already.” She went up on tiptoe to kiss him, and Emerson bent to meet her automatically.
The best?
“Are you saying I’m wrong?” she asked when she noticed he wasn’t convinced.