So why wasn’t she feeling happier about that? It was hard to feel the full impact of that joy because she’d be both putting a good number of men out of work, and moving forward in her goals without Casey Courtright in her life, and until a week ago, that would have meant nothing to her.
He shouldn’t matter! But he did. He’d proved himself to be invaluable—he’d saved her life! He’d shown her the very spot where her family had built their homestead... He’d been her answer to prayer. He’d caught her when she was injured, carried her when she was weak and kissed her so tenderly that she’d melted under his touch. And yet he couldn’t be her answer to every prayer.
Sure, just tell her heart that—it hadn’t caught up.
This was a goodbye service for the current pastor—his last sermon to be preached in this church. Another pastor would come and lead this country parish, and the sentiment of goodbyes seemed appropriate this week.
The pastor’s sermon wound up, and he sat down. The pianist went to her place at the old piano and began the prelude to the last hymn. The service was over.
“You okay?” Casey whispered as he picked up the worn hymnal and flipped it open.
Ember nodded. “I’ll have to be.”
“Do you want to head out early?” He leaned down to keep his words private.
Ember’s heart was too full to stand there listening to those sweet old hymns and still be able to keep her emotions under control. She glanced around—the other parishioners had risen to their feet and the first swell of singing began.
“Let’s go,” she agreed softly, and Casey dropped her hand. Casey waited for Ember in the aisle, and then they slipped out the back door, leaving the service behind them as they headed for the freedom of sunshine.
Ember’s ankle was still sore, but much better than before. They paused in the rosy wash of lowering sun and Casey got the car seats out of the truck.
“It might be easier if we can put them down,” he said.
They got the babies settled into their seats, and then Casey nodded toward the fence line that cut off church property from a neighboring field.
“Let’s go over there,” he said.
Ember nodded. The babies were still fast asleep, and they ambled across the grass together. Casey put the car seats down on the grass by the fence, angling them so that the boys’ faces stayed shaded. Across the grass, the piano could still be heard, the chords seeping out of the church and into nature. Toward the west, pink and red washed over the sky, the sun large on the horizon.
“You haven’t put your offer in on the ranch yet,” Casey said, breaking the quiet.
“Not yet,” she admitted.
“Are you going to?” he asked.
Ember nodded. “Yes, I am. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it yesterday. I don’t know why...”
“It’ll change this,” he said, his voice low and hollow. “Us. It’ll end whatever we’re doing here.”
“And what are we doing?” she asked, turning toward him. “We’ve crossed all professional lines, you know.”
Casey looked down at her, then shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve been falling for you something fierce.”
Tears misted Ember’s eyes and she shook her head. “We can’t do this—”
“I think it’s already done.”
Ember put her hand on the rough wooden fence, and he slid a warm palm on top of hers. He was so confident, so comforting, and she tipped her head over onto his shoulder and heaved a sigh.
“Why won’t you work for me, Casey?” she pleaded softly.
“I can’t do it.” His voice was low and filled with pain.
“And why not?” She lifted her head and looked up at him. “Are you just that stubborn?”
“I have a couple of good reasons,” he said, still not looking at her. He was staring out into the rippling field of young, green wheat. “The first is that I’m a rancher, not some city-slicker babysitter.”
“That’s harsh, but fine,” she said. “And the second reason?”
“I fell in love with you.” He finally looked over at her, those dark eyes drilling into hers, and he sighed. “Against all my better judgment, might I add.”
“You...” she breathed. “You love me?”
“I didn’t say it was logical or right,” he replied with a shake of his head. “But yes.”
And it suddenly all fell into place for her. She could see it come together, and this missing piece explained it all—her misery, her inability to embrace the blessings she had because they didn’t include the tall, protective cowboy in the picture.
“I love you, too,” she said, the words catching in her throat, and Casey turned and pulled her into his arms, his lips covering hers with a kiss of longing and anguish. He kissed her long and slow, and when he pulled back, she saw tears glistening in his eyes.
“Isn’t there some way we could make this work?” he pleaded. “Some loophole here that will let us live happily together in spite of it all?”
She wished that there were... If she had a couple in therapy facing the challenges they were facing, would she see a solution that they were missing out on? But no—not every relationship was salvageable. Not every couple who loved each other could make it last for a lifetime. There were heartbreaking times when love just wasn’t enough.
Ember shook her head and put a hand in the center of his chest, pushing herself back out of his arms.
“No,” she whispered. “There isn’t.”
Casey put a hand over her fingers in the center of his chest, but she tugged them free, and his heart ached as she stepped back. She licked her lips and looked down at her feet, then limped another step back. Ember Reed was so stubborn, yet so vulnerable. He longed to hold her again, but she didn’t want his touch, and he let his hand fall to his side.
“What makes you so
