“I’m not a child,” Emerson growled.
“No one said you were. Plenty of other grown-ups are accepting help.” Hunter pointed, and Emerson lifted his head. Hunter was right; there were several families and groups of friends supporting grown men and women who obviously didn’t know how to skate yet.
“I know how to skate. It’s just my ankle.”
“Which is why I’m here. Lean on me for a minute, and when you don’t need me anymore, I’ll disappear.”
Emerson knew he was being a jackass for refusing help. “Fine.” He bit off the word, took Hunter’s arm, pushed off and was pleased when his hurt ankle didn’t buckle. The exercises he’d been doing daily had helped a lot, and he felt a lot stronger lately. He took a few more experimental glides on his skates.
“Not bad,” Hunter said.
“Ankle’s improved more than I thought.”
“Five minutes. Ten at the most, this first time,” Hunter warned him. “Don’t screw up things for future Emerson by pushing today Emerson too hard.”
“Words to live by,” Wye said.
“See you around.” Hunter skated off and left them.
“You’re steady?” Wye asked.
“Feels good,” Emerson confirmed. “This was a good idea,” he admitted a few minutes later after they’d made it around the rink twice.
“It was, wasn’t it? I’d forgotten how much I like winter sports,” Wye said. “I’ve been a real stick in the mud these past few years.”
“When your life gets turned upside down, it’s hard not to want to dig in and make conservative choices.”
“Is that what you’ve been doing?” she asked.
He thought about it. “It’s what I wanted to do, but instead I guess I’m taking some leaps of faith. Sometimes…” He watched Jack whizz by, executing perfect crossovers as he wove in between the other skaters. “Sometimes it’s hard to feel I stack up with the other guys here.”
“You do, though. You know that, right?” Wye kept going, though he thought she wanted to stop and face him. He had a feeling she was afraid if they stopped, he wouldn’t be able to get going again.
“No,” he said honestly. “I’ll do whatever I can to strengthen my ankle, and I’ll be almost as good as new someday, but I won’t be like I was—or like Jack and the other men here still are.”
“Your ankle has nothing to do with who you are,” Wye said. “Who you are is in your heart, in your words and your actions. You are more man than just about anyone I’ve ever met, Emerson.”
He was the one who stopped. Tugged her to the side of the rink so they wouldn’t block anyone. “Don’t feel you have to—”
Wye put a hand on his chest.
“Emerson Myers, shut up and listen. I wouldn’t hitch my wagon to a lesser man. I deserve the best, and as far as I’ve seen, the best is you. Own it, already.” She went up on tiptoe to kiss him, and Emerson bent to meet her automatically.
The best?
“Are you saying I’m wrong?” she asked when she noticed he wasn’t convinced.
“No, but—”
“I know quality when I see it, and you, mister, are quality. In fact, you rock my world. I’ve been dreaming about getting home and slipping into your bed all day. I try not to think about you so much, but I can’t stop. You’re on my mind all the time.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“You know I’ll give it my all when it comes to you and me—to our family,” he told her.
“I know. That’s what I’m saying. I know exactly what I’ve got in you, Emerson.”
“Then why aren’t you wearing my ring?”
“Because it’s too early. I want to savor this part a little, don’t you? You’re going to be the last man I date, you know.”
The breath whooshed out of him. The last man she dated? Did that mean…?
“Kiss me,” she demanded.
And he did.
Emerson was still flying high from their talk several days later when he arrived in Billings for reserve training with the General. The center was busy today, with a load of new equipment arriving, including new desks, filing cabinets and shelving units for additional offices that had been built recently. Several officers he recognized were guiding the delivery truck into a cramped space close to the entrance of the building to make unloading easier, calling out to each other and the truck driver cheerfully as they went about their business.
The sun was out, although it was bitterly cold. Emerson hustled the General inside, then returned to collect their things from his truck.
“That’s it. Let’s open her up!” he heard Scott Delaney call as he pushed through the door into the parking lot. A popular young officer, he was always dashing around getting things done.
Showing him up, Emerson thought, biting back a sigh as he watched Scott leap onto the tail of the big cargo truck parked just feet away and pull up its rolling back door. The other men waiting to unload it had moved around the side of the vehicle to talk and joke with the driver, who’d shut off the engine and climbed out.
Scott hopped down again, calling out to them, and Emerson was the only one who caught sight of a large metal bookcase at the back of the truck as it began to tip.
“Watch out!” He leaped toward Scott, pain spiking through his ankle, and his momentum carried them both forward to safety as the metal shelves crashed to the ground behind them. Scott lost his balance and went down, Emerson on top of him, the air knocked out of him as they fell together.
“What the hell?” Scott cried, but a moment later he’d regained his footing and stood staring at the heavy metal bookcase laid out on the pavement. The rest of the men gathered around, muttering in shock. Emerson tried to get up, too, but his ankle wouldn’t take any weight.
He bit back a curse word. Hearing him, Scott turned and offered his hand. “You okay?”
Emerson wasn’t sure. He swayed on his one good foot when
