“But it’s still mine,” she reminded herself. “Or it will be...”
Feelings passed. They didn’t last forever. Eventually, she would be able to put this all behind her. Harper women carried on, even when it hurt.
So Ember went out into the kitchen, where Mr. Vern had just returned from his morning inspection of his land, and she handed him her official offer. Mr. Vern took the papers from her hand, scanned them and then shook her hand with enthusiasm.
“I’m thrilled, I have to say!” Mr. Vern enthused. “I wasn’t sure you’d find what you were looking for on this land.”
“Casey was the one who found the ruins of my family’s homestead,” Ember said. “So we have him to thank.”
“Really now?” Mr. Vern nodded slowly. “And what about hiring him on as your manager?”
“He’s been very clear about that,” she admitted. “I’d love to have him work for me, but he’s not interested.”
“Ah.” The smile slipped from his lined face, and then he shook his head. “All the same, I’m very happy to be selling this ranch to you, Miss Reed. These acres have been good to me, and I wish you only the best in your future endeavors here.” The older man tapped the sheaf of papers he held in his hands. “I suppose we’ll leave it up to the lawyers now, but I anticipate this being smooth and uncomplicated.”
“I’m sure it will be.” She forced a smile. There were no issues financially, at least. “I got a text yesterday saying that my car is fixed. I was wondering if you’d be willing to give me a ride into town to pick it up? I’ll stay at a hotel tonight, and I’ll be back in the morning to sign any more papers the lawyers send us.”
“You wouldn’t rather Casey give you that ride?” Mr. Vern asked. “You two seemed to have a special friendship.”
“No.” She swallowed quickly and dropped her gaze. “He’s busy, and I’d rather not bother him.”
“Ah.” Mr. Vern looked at her a little more closely. “He’s a good man, you know. Honest, stable, reliable.”
“I know.” Ember looked up sadly. “He’s a very good man. But still, sir, I’d rather just go get my car this morning, if it’s all the same to you. But if you’re busy, I’m sure I can get a taxi from Victory to come out here—”
“No, no!” Mr. Vern said with a shake of his head. “A taxi... Of course I will drive you myself. I only thought—which doesn’t matter. Obviously, I thought wrong. Let’s get going now. I’ll drop you off on the way to see my lawyer.”
Ember smiled. “That sounds perfect. I do appreciate your hospitality, Mr. Vern. You’ve been very kind to host me the last week and a half.”
“It was my pleasure, ma’am,” Mr. Vern said, and he gave her a nod, his eyes sparkling.
Mr. Vern drove Ember into Victory. It was a forty-minute drive, and when they reached the auto shop, Ember thanked Mr. Vern for the ride, then went into the mechanic’s office to pay her bill and pick up her car. It would feel good to be self-sufficient again with her own vehicle, and as she paid with her credit card, the realization that she was about to own all four hundred and two acres of the Vern ranch was just settling into her mind.
It wouldn’t be the Vern ranch anymore. It would be the Harper Family Therapy Center. She’d already decided on the name when her dream for the place took root—professional enough to make the purpose for her therapy center evident, but with the personal addition of her mother’s last name, too. The Harper women were strong—they were survivors. And that was the spirit she hoped to instill in the guests at her new, rural practice. She might have her father’s last name, but she’d been raised by a single mother. Her mother’s spirit was what guided her in her ambitions and hopes, not the Reed money.
Ember was hungry, and she decided to stop and get some breakfast at a diner before she went to find a hotel.
The streets of Victory were narrow, and there only appeared to be two or three stoplights in the entire town. Main Street was lined by clapboard-fronted buildings, and the parking spots in front of stores were all filled with dusty pickup trucks. Her car felt tiny compared to all the other vehicles. Over that last week she’d started to enjoy riding around in a pickup, high above the road. She just might take Mr. Vern’s advice and get a shiny new Ford—not that it would stay shiny for long on these roads.
Pop’s Diner was on the corner, and Ember pulled into a parking spot between a pickup truck and a U-Haul truck. She got out of her car and headed into the diner.
There weren’t many patrons this morning—a scattering of men in blue jeans and trucker hats, and a family over by the window. The mother was facing in Ember’s direction; the father and a boy were sitting with their backs to her. There was something about that family that drew her attention more than the others—the mother’s face. She wasn’t just gentle and laughing at something with a sparkle in her eyes... She was familiar. Ember knew her.
“You can just take a seat anywhere,” the waitress said with a smile on her way past with a pot of coffee in each hand. “I’ll take your order in a minute, hon.”
“Sure. Thanks,” Ember said distantly, and it was then that the woman lifted her gaze and saw Ember. She froze, the laughter slipping from her face. Ember watched the emotions clamber over the other woman’s features—shock, fear, uncertainty. No, seeing Ember was not good news—not to Sue Mitchell.
Sue looked toward her husband, murmured something, and then both husband and son turned and looked at her. The boy—he was the one who had Ember’s attention. He had a rumple of curly brown hair and big dark
