“They’ve decided they’re not ready to be parents.”
Wyoming let out a strangled sound. “That’s not something you get to decide after you’ve had a baby!”
But it was exactly what her mother had decided, wasn’t it? And her father had barely done much better. Wye felt sick. Only Emerson’s hand clasping hers under the table kept her steady.
“They’re prepared to do it legally, so it’s binding,” the General said. “I told them they owed you that much.” He turned to Emerson. “They’re prepared to let you both adopt Elise.”
Wye turned to Emerson in time to see his eyes widen—his hesitation.
Her world turned upside down all over again. What if he said—?
“Of course,” Emerson said firmly. “If that’s what Wye wants.”
She could barely swallow for the lump in her throat. If Emerson was willing to adopt Elise, that must mean he was in this for the long haul. His fingers tightened around hers for a moment, a squeeze meant to say everything he wasn’t putting into words in front of the others.
Everyone waited to hear what she would say, but she didn’t need to think it over. Of course she’d raise Elise.
Wye nodded. “I want that,” she managed to say, although her head was reeling.
“Your brother is asking a lot of you,” Cass said gently. “No one would think ill of you if it was more than you were willing to take on, Wye.”
“I want to. I love Elise. And she needs me. I won’t let her have the childhood I had.” Her words were coming out in gasps, and Wye knew she was barely making sense. She needed to see Elise. To let the little girl know she’d have a mother who’d never leave her now.
As if she’d heard a summons, Jo came back with Elise, slipped her into Wye’s waiting arms and touched the back of Wye’s hand.
“Love,” she said in satisfaction. “Pure love—the kind that lasts forever.”
Wyoming let out a surprised breath. She’d forgotten Jo’s kind of magic—the ability to feel what someone else was feeling when she touched them.
Jo had nailed it. Love filled her heart—for Elise, for Emerson and for everyone who lived here, even if sorrow warred within it for all the people who didn’t seem capable of that kind of love.
“Thank you,” she said to the General. “I’m not even your daughter, and you’ve helped bring me the life I always wanted.”
“You’re welcome.” The General’s voice was rough. “You are my daughter now, even if it’s an honorary designation, which means this little mite”—he touched Elise’s cheek with a finger—“is my first grandchild. We’ll make a fine horsewoman out of her. A real rancher.”
Wye snuck a look at Cass to see how she’d take the news that she’d been beaten to the punch, but Cass was beaming with happiness. That was her friend in a nutshell: always the most content when someone she loved was getting what she wanted.
Jo leaned in to hug Wye. “Guess you’re a Reed girl now, just like you wanted.”
“I guess so.” She smiled at Emerson. “For twenty-four hours, anyway. This time tomorrow, I’ll be a Myers.”
“So the wedding is on?” Brian asked.
“It better be, considering how hard we worked to get things ready,” Logan said. Lena shoved him. “I mean, I hope you two worked things out.”
“We did,” Wyoming assured him, but she kept her gaze on Emerson, needing him to hear what was in her heart. “I can’t wait for my wedding day.”
Emerson woke the next morning with a sense of anticipation he couldn’t remember feeling since he’d been a child at Christmastime, and for one moment, he had the uncanny impression that his parents were nearby.
What would they think of how he’d turned out? Would they like Wyoming?
He was sure they would. In all his memories, they were happy, dependable people. She’d fit right in.
He wished they could be sitting in the first row when he made his vows to Wyoming, and he promised himself that if and when Elise chose to marry—or any other child they might have—he’d move heaven and earth to witness it. His parents weren’t to blame for their absence, of course, but he wished the rest of his family could have found more room in their hearts for him. He’d never understand why they hadn’t been able to do so. Love wasn’t diminished by sharing it.
He knew he should try to sleep more, but there was no way he could now that he was awake. This was his wedding day, and his life was about to change forever.
He got up, pulled on some clothes and padded downstairs, needing a cup of coffee. He was surprised to see light shining out from under the door of the General’s room. He knocked softly and got an immediate answer.
“Come in.”
The General was sitting at his desk, his hair rumpled from sleep, a robe thrown over the pajamas he wore.
“Something wrong, General? Can’t sleep?”
“I found this.” The General pointed to a large envelope in front of him on the desk. “Woke up as if someone had called me. Turned on the light and saw this tucked behind the bookcase over there.” He waved at a floor-to-ceiling bookcase that stood near his bed. “Must have been there for years. Couldn’t see it from any other angle in the room. It’s for you.”
“Me?” Emerson stepped back. “That doesn’t make sense—unless it’s recent.”
“Or unless it’s from my wife.”
Confused, Emerson opened the envelope.
Dear Emerson, the note inside read.
I owe you many thanks for taking care of my husband when I can’t be there to care for him. He may not tell you, but the General is thankful for all you do, too.
It makes me happier than I can say to know that you will find love at Two Willows and remain there, keeping watch over Augustus as well as raising your family.
And it makes me happy to know that in marrying Wyoming Smith—who I know as a darling little girl with
