God was the God of second chances. But Ember didn’t see motherhood as something in the past—it was very much in the present. She would always be a mother, even if she couldn’t raise her son. But having more children felt like a betrayal to the son she gave away. What made them worthier of her time than he was? No, she’d had a child and she was a mother. But that was enough. The rest of her life would be spent in the service of other families—helping them stay together. With great mistakes came great penance.
The church was a half-hour drive from the ranch, and it sat on the crest of a hill in a pool of golden morning sunlight. The church property was squeezed between two fields, young green wheat rippling in the breeze on either side. It was beautiful, and from their vantage point, she could see the pickup trucks turning into the church property and parallel parking along the fence.
“I have to say,” Casey observed. “You have a gift for reassuring people. One conversation with you, and I felt a whole lot better.”
“That’s about as close as I’m going to get to you telling me you approve of my profession, isn’t it?” she asked with a low laugh.
“Yup.” But he shot her a grin. “You’re a good woman, Ember. I’m glad I’ve gotten to know you a bit...properly.”
They turned into the parking area in front of the church. Casey parallel parked next to another truck and turned off the engine. He sucked in a deep breath, then glanced over his shoulder at the babies.
“Am I crazy to think I can do this, Ember?” Casey asked softly.
“No, you’re daring,” she replied. “And there’s a difference.”
Casey smiled, then nodded. “All right, then. Here’s the plan. We each carry a baby, I’ll take the diaper bag and we see how we all fare through church.”
The next few minutes were spent getting the babies out of the truck and wrapped in blankets against the chilly morning air. People stopped to say hi and peek into the blankets to get a better look at the babies, so their progress to the church was relatively slow. When they finally got inside and got seated, Ember adjusted Will in her arms, then glanced over at Casey.
“I think you’ll be okay,” she said. “There are several women who would be more than happy to hold babies for you.”
“Yeah... I hadn’t thought of that, exactly,” he said.
“Mr. Vern said you’ve got a village,” she noted. “I’m inclined to agree.”
“It might take a village,” Casey said, and for a moment his gaze warmed and enveloped her. “But we three guys here need more than a village. We need a mom in the family.”
Her heart clenched in her chest, and for just a moment, she had an image in her mind of what it might be like to be that mom. A handsome husband, two adorable boys, living out in the Montana wilds... But she pushed it back. No, that wasn’t for her—he hadn’t even hinted at that! He needed a wife and a mom for these boys, and he’d find a woman worthy of them all.
To save her from answering, a lady at the front began to play the first chords of a hymn, and everyone started to settle and put their attention into the service that was about to begin. A family... That thought tugged at a part of her that she’d thought was dormant. She didn’t want to be the mother to other children. She didn’t deserve it...so why was she feeling that yearning when she looked over at Casey and the babies?
Lord, provide Casey with the wife he wants so badly, she prayed silently. And don’t let me want what isn’t for me...
It couldn’t be her, but that didn’t mean he didn’t deserve someone really wonderful. So did Will and Wyatt. They all deserved a woman far less broken than she was.
The service went smoothly enough. The babies slept through most of it, waking up for bottles once. Sitting in that pew next to Ember was an oddly endearing experience. She was petite next to him. Her personality made her seem bigger than she was, and looking down at her, watching her smooth one ivory hand over Will’s downy head, he’d felt his heart swell. She was beautiful and gentle, and while she seemed to try to hold herself back somehow with the babies, there were moments like that one in church when he could see the tenderness in her gentle touch. But she’d made it clear that she didn’t want to be a mom.
What should that little detail even matter? She was a Reed come to buy the ranch out from under him, but in a little country church with babies in their arms, those facts felt cloudy and distant. He’d convinced himself that his trip to church would be more of his promised tour of the area, not a quiet moment as the sermon washed over them, her shoulder pressed warmly up against his as the babies slumbered in their arms.
The pastor spoke about new beginnings. He and his wife were moving on to a new church shortly, and there would be a proper farewell service midweek. Today, however, they’d have a big potluck in the church basement, and everyone would have a chance to say how much they appreciated this pastoral family.
Except when the service ended and Casey turned his phone back on, there was a text waiting for him from Bert. There was a new calf to be bottle-fed that had been rejected by its mother. Casey would have to go over to make the final call on whether or not the calf would need a vet. A ranch didn’t stop running on Sundays, and Casey couldn’t leave all the work to the remaining workers. Bert said his wife had a respite worker with her elderly mother at
