Maybe taking on this chore that no one else wanted was a start.
He was pleased that his ankle was only minimally sore after the walk. For once he’d managed not to step wrong, or maybe those exercises were finally paying off. He let himself into the newest trailer first, a white one, and was almost disappointed to see that inside it was nearly spotless. It had little charm, however, and what Emerson really wanted was a project that showcased his skills. He’d always felt that people missed a trick when they built trailer homes. He understood they were supposed to be a frugal alternative to buying a single-family house, but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t be cozy or elegant.
He envisioned taking a trailer, cladding it in wood outside and installing his own cabinetry and flooring inside. Maybe this wasn’t the one for him to start with. He went down the row, letting himself into each trailer in turn, until he found one he thought could work. It was one of the older ones, striped with broad bands of blue and white. Probably built in the 80s, its carpeting was worn and ragged, as was the upholstery on the built-in banquette. The cupboards looked like the ones in his grandmother’s kitchen, and the Formica countertops were chipped and burned in several places.
He could gut this trailer without guilt, rebuild it from the floor to the ceiling and truly make it his own. He couldn’t wait to get started. Fixing the siding might need to wait until spring, but that was okay. He could take his time with the interior and meanwhile fix up the interiors of the rest of the trailers, as well. He could reach out to Buck and offer him the white one that was already habitable.
He drew out the pad and pen and began to make a list of supplies he’d need to renovate the one he wanted for himself, adding little sketches to remind himself at the store what he had in mind. When he caught himself whistling, he chuckled. For the first time since the blast that had changed his world, Emerson felt truly happy. He had a project, he had a woman to woo. Maybe things would work out after all.
Wyoming couldn’t believe she hadn’t found the note before.
During the past few days, in between playing with Elise, feeding her and changing her diapers, and taking her outside on errands or short walks in the frigid weather, she had cleaned most of Ward’s house from top to bottom. After that first day when she’d whipped the kitchen into shape and got on top of the laundry situation, she had tackled each room in turn, getting into corners, whisking away cobwebs, vacuuming under beds and sofas, scrubbing everything in sight.
Today she tackled their tiny dining room, and in the process of getting into all the corners with a vacuum cleaner, she’d gotten down practically on her belly to vacuum under the big hutch that stood along one wall—which was when she discovered the envelope lying beneath it.
Even before she pulled it out, her stomach sank. Once she was back to standing again and saw Ward’s name written in Mindy’s handwriting on the envelope, she knew what it had to be. Mindy must have propped the letter on the hutch, assuming Ward would see it on his way through the house to the kitchen the day she left, and somehow it had fallen down and slid under the hutch where no one had noticed it until now.
The flap of the envelope was tucked in but not fastened. Wyoming battled with her conscience, knowing the contents were for her brother’s eyes only but wanting desperately to know what Mindy had said.
She wasn’t proud of herself for opening the letter, but she didn’t want to get Ward excited about the discovery if this was only an old birthday card or something like that.
Mindy’s note was short and simple. She was unhappy. She didn’t want to be a mother, didn’t want to live in a boring backwater town like Chance Creek all her life, so she was heading to California to start over. She would be in touch through her lawyer when she was ready.
She’d written no words of apology for abandoning Ward or their daughter, or any explanation for what had gone wrong, outside of the fact that she felt hemmed in.
Wyoming’s hands shook as she slid the note carefully back into the envelope and considered her next move. Although she tried not to overreact, hot anger welled up inside her at her sister-in-law’s callousness. Didn’t she know how much it hurt to be abandoned like that? Was she so unfeeling she could walk away from her husband and child without a second look?
She needed to call Ward, but Wye found herself hesitating. When she did, she’d kill any hope he had that Mindy was coming home, and he’d have to face a life as a single parent. Was it fair to call him in the middle of his workday? Or should she withhold the information until he came home?
No matter what she did, Ward would be crushed. She wasn’t the only one who knew what abandonment felt like. Maybe her brother didn’t talk about it, but she knew their mother’s leaving hurt him as much as it had hurt her.
Wyoming didn’t realize what she was doing until her phone was in her hand and she’d tapped out a message to Emerson.
You there?
A moment later her phone trilled. She answered it.
“What’s wrong?” Emerson asked. “Do you want me to come over?”
His instant offer of help and companionship warmed her. “It’s Mindy. She did leave a note, and I just found it. I know I shouldn’t have read it, but I couldn’t help myself.”
“Of course you couldn’t. What did
