“No, but—”
“I know quality when I see it, and you, mister, are quality. In fact, you rock my world. I’ve been dreaming about getting home and slipping into your bed all day. I try not to think about you so much, but I can’t stop. You’re on my mind all the time.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“You know I’ll give it my all when it comes to you and me—to our family,” he told her.
“I know. That’s what I’m saying. I know exactly what I’ve got in you, Emerson.”
“Then why aren’t you wearing my ring?”
“Because it’s too early. I want to savor this part a little, don’t you? You’re going to be the last man I date, you know.”
The breath whooshed out of him. The last man she dated? Did that mean…?
“Kiss me,” she demanded.
And he did.
Emerson was still flying high from their talk several days later when he arrived in Billings for reserve training with the General. The center was busy today, with a load of new equipment arriving, including new desks, filing cabinets and shelving units for additional offices that had been built recently. Several officers he recognized were guiding the delivery truck into a cramped space close to the entrance of the building to make unloading easier, calling out to each other and the truck driver cheerfully as they went about their business.
The sun was out, although it was bitterly cold. Emerson hustled the General inside, then returned to collect their things from his truck.
“That’s it. Let’s open her up!” he heard Scott Delaney call as he pushed through the door into the parking lot. A popular young officer, he was always dashing around getting things done.
Showing him up, Emerson thought, biting back a sigh as he watched Scott leap onto the tail of the big cargo truck parked just feet away and pull up its rolling back door. The other men waiting to unload it had moved around the side of the vehicle to talk and joke with the driver, who’d shut off the engine and climbed out.
Scott hopped down again, calling out to them, and Emerson was the only one who caught sight of a large metal bookcase at the back of the truck as it began to tip.
“Watch out!” He leaped toward Scott, pain spiking through his ankle, and his momentum carried them both forward to safety as the metal shelves crashed to the ground behind them. Scott lost his balance and went down, Emerson on top of him, the air knocked out of him as they fell together.
“What the hell?” Scott cried, but a moment later he’d regained his footing and stood staring at the heavy metal bookcase laid out on the pavement. The rest of the men gathered around, muttering in shock. Emerson tried to get up, too, but his ankle wouldn’t take any weight.
He bit back a curse word. Hearing him, Scott turned and offered his hand. “You okay?”
Emerson wasn’t sure. He swayed on his one good foot when he was upright again, trying not to think how badly he might have damaged his ankle.
“What happened? What’s going on?” The General hobbled out of the building as fast as his cane would let him.
“Emerson just saved Scott’s life,” Gregory Chant spoke up. “The load must have shifted as you drove, Melton.”
“If that bookcase had hit you wrong…” Paul Hunt let his sentence trail off. The heavy metal bookcase was full of sharp edges and pointy corners, and as it fell from the height of the bed of the truck, it had picked up speed. Paul and Gregory were right—the accident could have been fatal.
Don Melton, the driver, had gone pale. “Hell, I thought I had everything in there tight. If something had happened—”
“Well, all’s well that end’s well, but that load should have been restrained,” the General said. “You men, get that furniture sorted. Delaney, take a minute and make sure you aren’t hurt. Myers? You okay?”
Emerson wanted to say yes, but the truth was, he wasn’t.
“Think I’d better get this checked out.” He gestured to his ankle. He wasn’t sure how to get to his truck, however. He could drive with his good foot, but walking wasn’t going to be easy.
“Here, lean on me,” Paul said. “I’ll drive you to the hospital. You’ll want to get that looked at quickly so it heals right.”
Relief flooded Emerson. His shock was wearing off, and the pain in his ankle was increasing. “I’d appreciate that.”
“Hope they get you fixed up,” Don said.
“Yeah,” Gregory chimed in.
“I’ll be back soon as I can,” Emerson assured the General.
“Don’t worry about me. Take care of yourself,” the General said.
It was several hours before Paul dropped Emerson back at the base. The General was waiting for him in his office.
“What’s the prognosis?” he asked, sliding his glasses down his nose and peering over them. Judging by the paperwork spread out around him, the General had put his time to good work while Emerson was gone.
“Just twisted it—didn’t do any further damage,” Emerson told him.
“Good. You’ll need to take it easy for a day or two.”
“It’s wrapped up tight. What do you say we head out?”
“You can drive?”
Emerson nodded. “Didn’t hurt my good foot at all.”
“Glad to hear it, because I’m ready to be home at Two Willows.”
“You and me both.”
Celebrating the holidays with a big, happy family was an entirely new experience for Wye. Cass had invited her over the year before, but Wye hadn’t wanted to intrude and she’d declined. Instead, she’d stopped by for a quick visit on Christmas Eve before heading to church on her own, and in the morning, she’d had a Christmas brunch with her brother and Mindy, as usual.
This year was different. In the days leading up to the twenty-fourth, she found herself working with Cass to get the whole house in order and to bake dozens of cookies to share, as if she truly were Cass’s sister. She joked with the other women and teased the men when they came to steal treats from the kitchen. Emerson had taken it easy for a day or two, but then he’d gotten right back to work on the trailers. Wye was grateful he hadn’t damaged his ankle further. She knew how frustrated Emerson had been with it already.
When Ward dropped off Elise on the morning of Christmas Eve, he hesitated in the doorway. “You sure you’re okay with taking her today?”
“Just get back as soon as you can. You’ll join us for dinner, right?”
“Sure.” He was trying not to let his true feelings show, but Wye knew Mindy’s continued absence was dragging his spirits down. She felt like he’d gotten into a rhythm with work, chores and taking care of Elise, but he hadn’t come all the way to terms with the fact that Mindy wasn’t coming back, and he was often distracted. She never saw him these days without his phone in his hand, and she was afraid he’d become addicted to being online instead of being in the present moment.
“It’ll be fun, you’ll see,” she assured him. “We’ll have a good meal and attend the candlelight service. You won’t have time to be sad.”
“I’m not sad.” He seemed to recall himself, clearing his throat before he went on. “I’m fine, Wye. Don’t fuss. I’d better get to work.”