Fiona came into the kitchen at that moment with Wyatt in her arms. She looked less stressed than her husband, and she held Wyatt close to her cheek, making a soft shushing sound next to him that didn’t seem to be helping much.
“Thanks for standing in,” Casey said, taking Will from Bert’s arms. “Much appreciated.”
Fiona handed Wyatt over, and the older couple exchanged a look of unmitigated relief.
“I’m glad you’re back,” Fiona said, putting a gentle hand on Ember’s shoulder as she tried to adjust the wailing infant in her arms. “Too much change, I’ll warrant. They just need a quiet evening with their daddy. Will’s settling down already.”
And he was—Will’s cries had softened into whimpers, and as Casey swung the baby from side to side, he seemed to be winding down.
“Thanks again,” Casey said, raising his voice over the babies’ sobs. “I’m really grateful. My aunt will be here to help me out middle of next week, so there’s an end in sight for you, Bert.”
“It’s not a problem,” Bert said with a grin, but all the same, he put a hand in the center of his wife’s back and propelled her forward toward the door. “Have a good night!”
When Bert and Fiona had left, Ember’s attention turned to Wyatt, who hadn’t calmed in the least. She jiggled him a couple of times, her heart filling with misgiving.
“Just rock him,” Casey said, still swinging Will in that perfect arc that seemed to be working for the baby.
“I am!” Ember jiggled Wyatt a few more times, then started rocking back and forth, but Wyatt wasn’t having it. And in Ember’s heart, she saw a tiny calf without a mother, and deeper down still was the memory of her own tiny boy, who had cried for her so desperately as another woman took him away.
“He wants his mother—that isn’t me,” she said, tears rising up inside her.
“Well, she isn’t an option anymore, is she?” Casey shot back. “She’s gone! So hold that baby like you mean it!”
Like she meant it. She’d been holding herself back whenever she cradled either baby, and she’d been repressing all those instincts on purpose. She was trying to stem the flood of memories of her own little boy, and the harder she tried, the more vivid he was in her heart.
She’d never named him, had let his adoptive parents have the honor—that was supposed to make it easier. But it hadn’t been. They hadn’t let her be a part of anything...and nothing of her had gone with her son to his new home, nothing but his memories that would have faded eventually, and she couldn’t help but wonder if a part deep inside him would always be wounded, wondering why his mother gave him up.
“No—” Ember’s voice quivered as she swallowed back tears, but Casey’s arms were already full, and she couldn’t very well just put the sobbing baby into the cradle and walk away. He needed something, and she wasn’t enough—she couldn’t be.
“Ember, just—” Casey didn’t seem to know how to put it into words, but Ember knew what it would take to quiet this child—it would take her whole heart.
So with a prayer for strength, she pulled Wyatt in close against her cheek, shut her eyes to the room around her and rocked him with all the love that had lain dormant in her heart this long, long decade. She rocked him the way she wished she could have rocked her own little boy, soothing away that anguished cry as they’d walked away with him, cooing over him as if his tiny heart hadn’t been searching for her in that swarm of strangers.
And as she rocked, her tears flowed, and Wyatt calmed. He sucked in a few ragged breaths and snuggled against her neck. That was what he’d needed—for her to open herself up, empty herself out.
“Ember...” Casey’s voice was low and concerned, and she opened her eyes to find him looking into her face. He put a hand out and touched her cheek with the back of one finger.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “It’s—” She swallowed.
“What happened to you?” he whispered. “And don’t tell me it’s nothing, because I’m no fool.”
Ember had never told anyone else about her son. He’d been her heavy secret, and giving him up had been her deepest heartbreak. She looked down at Wyatt, now stilled and soothed in her arms, then back up at Casey.
Casey stepped closer still and pushed her hair away from her face, wiping a tear off her cheekbone with the same movement. Those brown eyes were locked on hers, and she sucked in a ragged breath.
“I gave up a baby boy for adoption ten years ago, and it’s been hard lately,” she admitted softly. It sounded so...ordinary.
“So that’s why...” He nodded a couple of times. Had she not hidden her pain as successfully as she thought?
“I’ve been trying to just set it aside for now,” she said, wiping a tear from her cheek with the flat of her palm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to do this. I knew I’d have to deal with it, but I wanted to wait until I was back home...and alone. So... I’m sorry. I’m not supposed to be melting down here—”
“Hey, it’s okay.” He met her gaze tenderly. “You weren’t ready to give him up, were you?”
“I thought I was.” Ember licked her lips and looked down at little Wyatt, whose eyes had drooped shut. Her arms were already feeling tired, and she looked up at Casey helplessly.
“Come sit,” Casey said. “It’ll be more comfortable.”
Ember followed Casey into the living room, and they sank down into the couch, side by side. For a few beats they sat in silence, and then Casey said quietly, “So what happened?”
“You don’t have to do this,” she said, her voice raspy with unshed tears.
“I’m asking as...I don’t know...a friend, I guess.”
Ember looked over
