“Sounds rough,” Emerson said before he took the General his coffee. He came right back, since the General liked to start his morning in peace and quiet. He dumped out the coffee grounds, quickly washed the pot and filter, set them in the drying rack and accepted the plate Cass offered, heaped with bacon, eggs and toast. “You don’t have to cook for me, you know.” He took a bite of a piece of bacon as he sat down at the table. Cass made quick work of drying the coffeepot and getting a new batch started.
“I know.” Cass smiled at him. “But I’d cook breakfast for an army if it meant I didn’t have to muck out horse stalls.” Her smile broadened. “Are you and the General off to Billings today?”
“Not today,” Emerson said. “I’ll see if the General needs any help this morning, but if you all don’t mind, after that I’d like to take a ride.” He’d hoped to ask Wyoming to come along, but that would have to wait for another time. Meanwhile, he couldn’t help wanting to see the lay of the land, now that there was a chance some of it might belong to him someday. He wanted to see how it felt in the saddle, too. On the one hand, up on a horse he wasn’t putting weight on his ankle. On the other hand, on past excursions, holding his feet in the stirrups had made his ankle ache after a while. He hoped today would be different.
“We don’t mind at all,” Cass said. “Just ask one of the guys if you need somebody to point you in the right direction. Take any horse except Atlas. Lena isn’t one for sharing.”
Emerson had gathered that much during his time here, but he didn’t mind. He liked the frank way Lena talked and behaved. You always knew where you stood with her.
He wished he could read Wyoming as well.
After breakfast he spoke to the General and helped him with one or two work details before heading out to the stables. The General had let him know the night before that he wanted some time to himself today. He was going through some old paperwork he’d found in his office and didn’t want to be disturbed.
“Make yourself scarce,” he’d said when Emerson asked if he was sure he could spare him.
On his way to the stable, he met up with Brian. “Take Button,” Brian said. “He’s steady, and he could use the exercise.”
Fifteen minutes later, Emerson rode south, his heart rising as the vista spread out before him. Keeping the far-off mountains in front of him, he went cross country for a while before picking up a trail and winding into the higher elevations of the ranch. For the next several hours he let the spare beauty of the place soak in, appreciating its size. Over the last couple of weeks, he’d spent most of his time close to home, closeted with the General, helping him with day-to-day tasks and trying to get him to do his physical therapy exercises. The General’s health was improving, and he could make his way around the house without much help, but he’d be doing a lot better if he’d buckle down to those exercises.
When his stomach began to growl, Emerson turned, lunch on his mind, but on the way back he stopped at the Park, a flat stretch of ground about a quarter mile from the barns and outbuildings where a half-dozen trailers stood. Until recently they had housed hired hands, but Cass and her sisters had driven out those men months ago when they discovered they were trying to use the property as a distribution center for drugs.
Now the trailers sat empty, which was a shame. While some of them were older, most looked in good repair and should be put to use, to his way of thinking. They each sat a little distance apart, bushes and small trees between them adding to the sense of separation.
Emerson considered them from Button’s back, flexing his foot to lessen the ache in his ankle, which had increased steadily during the last ten minutes. If he stayed, could he make his home in one of these? He could fix it up. Change out the tacky siding for something more attractive. Redo the interior.
Would the General appreciate his get up and go if he mentioned the idea? Or would he think he was already treating the place like his own?
Only one way to find out, he decided, and picked up his pace. The General knew him better than anyone else—he’d understand where Emerson was coming from.
Back at the house, he found everyone gathered for lunch. Still energized by his morning in the saddle, even if his limp was more pronounced after his ride, Emerson washed his hands and slid into the only empty seat at the table, catching a sharp look from the General.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said. The General had a thing about punctuality, and he hadn’t relaxed many of his military habits since he’d come home. Emerson looked around the table, noting that Wyoming still wasn’t present.
“I don’t think Wyoming will be back until dinnertime at least,” Cass said, catching his eye.
“Have you set the date yet?” the General asked.
“What date?” Jo asked, swiping mayonnaise onto two pieces of bread before passing the jar to Hunter.
“His wedding date,” the General told her. “I told him to fix things up with that little friend of yours, Cass, so she’ll stay close. Figured you’d like that. Offered Emerson a share in the ranch if he marries her.”
Cass’s mouth dropped open in surprise, and Emerson saw the looks exchanged around the table.
Hell, the General obviously hadn’t explained his intentions to any of them before offering Emerson part of the ranch. Would they think he’d begged for it?
“I… didn’t know you’d done that,” Cass said to the General.
Lena opened her mouth as if to say something, shut it again and huffed out a sigh. “Would’ve been nice to be asked if we want to share the ranch, at least.”
“This is still my spread,” the General said. “If I want to hand out a hundred shares in it, I can.”
Emerson’s gut tightened. The General was going about this all wrong, riling up the very people he should be soothing. “I don’t need the handout,” he hurried to say. “I’ll marry Wyoming regardless and make a home for her somewhere else.”
“No, you won’t!” the General snapped. “You’ll live here, or you won’t marry her at all!”
The man was building into one of his towering rages. It was rare he really lost his temper, but when he did, heads rolled. Emerson knew he needed to stop this—now.
“Let’s have our lunch,” Emerson said. “We’re all hungry, and the dinner table isn’t the place to discuss business matters—or personal ones.”
Sadie snorted. “That doesn’t leave much for us to talk about.”
“Emerson is right,” Cass said. “Let’s discuss this another time. We like having you here,” she added, reaching across the table to touch Emerson’s hand. “It’s just we’re still working out the logistics for how we can all live here, work together and share the ranch.”
“If we’re basing our futures on this ranch, we need some say in what happens here.” Lena didn’t seem ready to give up the argument.
“Seems fair to me.” Emerson tried once more to diffuse the situation.
“Seems like a load of hogwash to me,” the General said. “Emerson is a good man, and he’s served by my side through thick and thin. He’s injured because of me. Lost his career in the Army because I was targeted. I’ll give him the whole damn ranch if I want to.” He slammed his hand on the table hard enough to make the silverware bounce.