She’d kept her secret locked away these last ten years, opening her heart for no one. And having revealed her deepest regret left her feeling vulnerable in a whole new way.
Ember shivered, tugging the quilts back up over her shoulders. It was time to refocus her priorities. When the sun rose, she would see how close she could get to Harper Creek and see what was out there. She might be hoping for proof that wouldn’t even exist anymore, but at least she’d be able to see it all firsthand. She had to get moving on this—or she’d lose herself here.
And she fell back into a fitful slumber.
That morning, Ember awoke feeling less than rested. It had been a rough night, and the thought of helping with the infants this morning was too much to face. She could fall in love with those baby boys a little too easily.
When she ambled into the kitchen that morning, Mr. Vern had just come back in from his early chores. He poured himself a mug of coffee, and another for Ember.
“So how much of the ranch have you managed to see?” Mr. Vern asked as they sipped their brew together.
“I’ve seen a few fields, both barns, some silos—” Ember swallowed a scalding sip. “What I really want to see is Milk River, though.”
“It’s a ways out,” Mr. Vern said. “You mind if I ask why seeing it is so important?”
“My great-great-grandmother’s journal mentioned the names of some creeks off the river in the area of their homestead. Those old names don’t exist anymore, but there is a Harper Creek. My family name is Harper. I’m wondering if it’s possible that my family settled by that creek. I know it’s a long shot.”
“How would you even know if you did find the right land?” Mr. Vern asked.
“My great-great-great-grandfather brought a single red brick from New York State when they came out to settle here in Montana. He built it into the front of their fireplace as a reminder of where they came from. I don’t know if anything would even remain of an original structure, but if it did...”
“You’re right. It’s a very long shot. And I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but there is also this...” Mr. Vern rose from the table and sauntered out of the room. He came back a moment later with a map that he unfolded and stretched over the tabletop.
“This is an older map,” Mr. Vern said, “and you’ll see Harper Creek isn’t on it. That creek was renamed for a mayor in the seventies.”
Ember sighed. Another dead end. Except she still wanted to see it...get close enough. Who knew? Maybe she’d recognize something there on a heart level. That was crazy, and she knew it, but when her mother used to tell her those family stories, she used to think that if she could just stand on the soil that her family had homesteaded, she’d feel them there...their memories, the family connection. She was a grown woman now and wasn’t the superstitious type, but still...
“—but if you want to see Milk River, get an idea of the area,” Mr. Vern went on, “there’s a service road that will take you all the way up there. It brings you a little east of this area you were looking at on the map, but it’s something.”
“Really?” Ember looked at the older man in interest. “How far is the drive?”
“An hour, maybe less,” Mr. Vern said, leaning back over the map. “There—this road here. You follow it up past the cow barn, and it circles east, so it’s not quite in the same direction you’re wanting to go, but it does bring you right close to Milk River here—” he jabbed a finger at the map “—and you can get a good look. That’s as close as you get without going on horseback.”
“That sounds doable!” Ember grinned. She wasn’t sure what she hoped to see...or feel. But she needed to at least lay her eyes on the river, get close enough to touch it.
“I can’t take you today, myself. I’m going back to the nursing home to see my wife. They’re saying that she needs to be transferred to a different facility that can give her more services.” He sighed. “I could get Casey to give you a ride.”
Casey—no, he was turning out to be a little too comforting lately.
“No, no.” Ember shook her head quickly. “Casey’s a busy man, and I don’t need him to chauffeur me everywhere. If it’s just a matter of following a service road, I’m perfectly capable of doing that.”
“Your GPS won’t work on those service roads,” Mr. Vern warned.
“Understood.”
“And there’s no cell service out there.”
Ember shot him a grin. “I’ll survive. It’s just a road. Would you be able to lend me a vehicle so I could drive up there and take a look?”
“Can you drive stick?” Mr. Vern asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Sure can.”
“Then you can take the red truck.” He went to a wooden board covered in hooks and key rings, and pulled down a set of keys. “You sure you don’t want that chauffeur? Casey would be happy to take you up there, I’m certain.”
“I’d rather do it alone,” she said.
“Suit yourself. Don’t wander too far from your vehicle, and keep a sharp eye out. The wolves are hungry this time of year. They tend to leave people alone, but I’d still keep pretty close to the truck, regardless.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said with a smile. “I appreciate this, Mr. Vern. I want to get closer to the river. I don’t know what I expect to see, but—”
“Understood. Drive safe. I won’t be here this morning, so when you get back, if you could just put the keys on top of the sun visor, I’d be much obliged.” Mr. Vern gave her a nod, and Ember felt a weight lift off her shoulders.
Freedom, at last.
