Cass smiled. “I think all of us have holes in our hearts that seem impossible to fill.”
Wye thought that over, touching a soft baby towel set. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe that’s my problem. I have a hole the size of an entire family in my heart.”
“I’m surprised you’re not more excited to live with us, then,” Cass said seriously. “We’re a big family!”
“The problem is trust,” Wye told her. “What if I let you all in and then you decide you don’t want me? I’d be better off not setting myself up to get hurt like that, don’t you think?”
Cass touched the tiny sweater again, picked it up and folded it. “I can see why you’d think so, but I don’t agree. I think you need to fling yourself at every opportunity for love. Some might not work out, but others will.”
Flinging herself at love sounded terrifying.
Cass laughed. “You should see your face. Come on, Wye. I love you like another sister, but like a better one because you didn’t spend years trying to buck all my attempts to parent you, like Alice, Lena, Jo and Sadie did.”
“It’s hard to penetrate that inner circle. You and your sisters.” Wye felt her face heat, and she turned away to admire a display of plush toys.
“I guess I can see that,” Cass said slowly. “We spent so much time together growing up.”
“And I had no one.” Hell, she hadn’t meant to say that, either.
“Ward wasn’t much of a brother to you when your mom left, was he?”
Wye shook his head. “He stayed as far away from home as he could manage during those years. Joined every sports team he could. Hung out at friends’ houses. Slept over as often as he could manage it, which was a lot. I can’t blame him; it was no fun at home.”
“But you got stuck dealing with your dad.”
“Someone had to. Anyway, that’s ancient history.”
“I’m sorry,” Cass said.
“For what?” Wye turned back.
“For not being there.”
Wye blinked—and blinked again, tears stinging her eyes. She could have used a friend like Cass back then. “You barely knew me,” she said reasonably. “You can’t be sorry for that.”
“I am, though. I should have known you. I should have invited you to Two Willows. You would have made a good addition to our little guerilla army.”
“I would have,” Wye agreed.
“Which is why I want you to join us now. Not many people truly understand my past, Wye, but you do. You get me in a way few people do. And you’re funny and smart. You make any day better when you’re around. You’re my best friend. You’re family. True family. That’s not going to change.”
Wye crossed to hug her, which was something, because on the whole she wasn’t a demonstrative person. Cass blinked at her, surprised but pleased. “I wish I was your sister,” Wye said. “I wish I was magic like you all are.”
“You are magic,” Cass insisted. “And from now on you are one of us.” She hugged her back fiercely. “Deal?”
“Deal,” Wye said.
“You’re awfully quiet, Sergeant,” the General said halfway through their drive to Two Willows.
If the General had noticed his mood, he wasn’t doing too well hiding it, Emerson thought. “Keeping my eyes on the road,” he said.
“Something eating at you?”
Emerson shook his head. No way was he repeating the conversation he’d overheard at the reserve center. The General would wave away his concerns. He’d found nothing to fault in Emerson’s service, so no one else should, either, but those men were right; he hadn’t seen much of combat. Wherever the General went, he was protected as an asset the US government didn’t want to lose, which meant Emerson had been protected, too. That didn’t mean his service with the General hadn’t placed him in dangerous situations. Exhibit A: his ankle.
It wasn’t the first time his service had been derided. He knew rumors had swirled at USSOCOM about his real role in the General’s life. Some people thought he must be a relative of the General’s, given a cushy position based on his connection. Others thought he was little better than a servant. Still others whispered maybe he shared the General’s bed.
He’d never let any of that bother him. Despite what those reservists thought, he’d traveled the world with the General, and he knew his attention to the small details left the man’s mind free to hone in on the big ones—the ones that had affected the lives of thousands of soldiers over the years. He hadn’t required understanding from the general public—or praise from the General. The job was truly its own reward, to his way of thinking. Knowing that by keeping him safe and happy he was helping to keep all the troops who served under the man safe and happy, too, gave him satisfaction.
Making himself useful. Wasn’t that what a man was supposed to do?
“I’ve got a houseful of sons-in-law now,” the General said, cutting through his thoughts.
Emerson glanced his way. The General kept his eyes forward.
“I hope in time I feel about them as I might have felt about sons of my own. I always thought I’d have sons, you know, but Amelia knew we’d have daughters.”
Emerson slowed down to negotiate a turn, then accelerated again.
“She told me about them the day we bought her engagement ring. It was as if she could see them. Guess she could,” he added gruffly. “That woman saw everything.”
Emerson knew Amelia was what one might call fey. Second sight. The ability to see the future. Amelia had passed some of that magic to her daughters.
“I love my daughters,” the General asserted suddenly, and Emerson had to grip the wheel to keep from swerving off the road. He knew the General loved his daughters, of course, but he didn’t think he’d ever heard him say so out loud.
Had he?
“I guess I thought I might have an easier time relating to a boy.”
Emerson kept quiet. It wasn’t often the
