“Hey, what are you two doing back so early?” Emerson approached and touched Elise’s nose with a sudsy finger. Elise shrieked happily.
“Wye? What’s going on?” Cass appeared in the doorway. “Emerson, what are you doing with my dishes?”
“Cleaning them.” He returned to the sink and got busy again.
“That’s not your job. I was just switching a load of laundry into the dryer. I was coming right back.”
“I’m happy to help,” Emerson said, setting another plate on the drying rack. “I’ve always liked getting things back in their places.”
“Do you even know where their places are?” Cass asked, fluttering around behind him as if angling to get to her accustomed position at the sink. “You haven’t been here that long.”
“I’ve been here for weeks.” Emerson faced her, clearly taken aback. “It’s no big deal, Cass. Like I said, I’m happy to help.”
“Which is very nice of him,” Wyoming added pointedly. “I don’t know about you, Cass, but I appreciate it when someone gives me a break from chores.”
Cass bit her lip. “You’re right,” she admitted wryly. “Thank you, Emerson,” she added. “It just feels wrong to me when a guest does housework. But Wyoming is right; I have plenty of other things I can do, including hanging out with my husband. But first, why don’t I get Elise down for her nap and you two can talk.”
“Thanks.” Wye gave Elise a kiss and a snuggle and handed Cass the baby and her bag. When she was gone, Emerson braced his hands on the counter and sighed.
“She didn’t mean that,” Wye hurried to assure him, knowing instinctively which part of the conversation with Cass was bothering him. “She didn’t even realize what she said.”
“But that’s how everyone sees me. As a guest.”
“That’s how they see me, too, despite what Cass says. But what can we expect?”
“The General assured me there’s a place for me—and you—on the ranch. I’m not ready to give that up yet, but if push comes to shove, I’ll work as hard as I can to make us a home somewhere else. I want you to know that.”
Wye wasn’t sure what to say. On the one hand, his assurance that she wanted him to make her a home was galling. On the other hand, it was… She didn’t know what it was, but it was something. Something that tugged at a place in her that wasn’t rational.
The handsome soldier washing Cass’s dishes wanted to make a home for her.
Who else had ever wanted to do that?
“Let’s worry about one thing at a time,” she said. “I need to sort things out with my brother. You need to help the General—and fix those trailers.”
Emerson perked up. “How about tomorrow we can go out there, and I’ll show you what I’m planning. We could bring Elise.” He cocked his head, fishing another dish out of the soapy water and washing it. “Did things go well with Ward?”
“No, not at all. He drank so much last night he couldn’t get out of bed this morning. I finally gave up,” she admitted, hoping Emerson didn’t notice how worried she was.
“He did get some pretty bad news.”
Wye was pretty sure Emerson wouldn’t get drunk in similar circumstances, but all she could do was shrug. “I’ll call him later. He’s got to get up sometime. Tell me about what you’re doing at the Park.” She fetched a towel from one of the drawers and started drying the stack of clean dishes.
“I picked one of the trailers to start with.” Emerson seemed to understand she wanted to talk about something different. “I’ll swap out the siding, take the interior down to the studs and rebuild it. It won’t look like a trailer at all by the time I’m finished with it.”
“That sounds like an interesting project. What will happen to it when you’re done?”
He gave her a funny look. “I’m hoping you’ll move into it with me,” he said.
Suddenly the events of the morning and her frazzled emotions caught up with her, and Wye set the dish she’d been drying down on the counter with a thump. “Too soon,” she told him. “I’ve got too much on my plate to talk about things like that right now.”
Emerson gave her a long look, but in the end he only nodded. “Guess you’re right. But it’d help to know your opinion on the matter. Could you be happy in a refurbished trailer? Or do you need something nicer?”
How on earth was she supposed to know what would make her happy? Her whole world had turned upside down in the last month and a half. She’d lost her job, given up her apartment, was living as a guest at her friend’s house and entertaining thoughts of marriage to a man she didn’t even know, just because her friend’s father had decreed it. Her brother’s wife had run away, and Ward seemed to view her as a stand-in for Mindy. She wasn’t ready for any of it.
“I have no problem with living in a trailer that’s made to look like a cabin,” she said carefully, “but I do have a problem, a big problem, with being pushed into a situation for which I’m not ready. Do you understand that?”
Emerson set the last dish on the drying rack and dried his hands. “Yeah, I got it,” he said and walked out of the room.
“I make a pretty mean cup of coffee, you know,” Cass said early the following morning.
Emerson lifted the tray he had just assembled and turned to face her. “I’m sure you do, but the General is very particular. I’ve been making his morning coffee for years.”
“It just seems silly to make coffee twice in one morning,” she pointed out. She leaned against the counter in a warm, quilted robe, fuzzy slippers on her
