Chapter Two

      Casey looked over at the woman beside him in the passenger seat as he bumped over that familiar gravel road. She looked relaxed enough, unless he noticed her hands—white knuckled in her lap. Was it him? Was she nervous about driving down some isolated ranch road with a guy she didn’t know? He didn’t like the idea of anyone being truly afraid of him. She was the competition—here to slap down more money than he had any access to—but she was also a woman out of her element and alone, and that made him soften toward her a little bit.

      “You okay?” he asked.

      “Of course.”

      “Because you’re white knuckling it there.” He shot her a half smile.

      “Oh...” She breathed out an uncomfortable laugh. “Sorry.”

      She released her grip, stretched her fingers out and laid her hands flat against the tops of her legs.

      This drive back down the road wasn’t quite the celebration the drive up to the house had been. Was this it, then? Mr. Vern would sell to this city slicker, and Casey’s dreams of owning a ranch would have to be put on hold yet again? Yes, there was always the chance that another property would land on the market, but would the timing ever be right again? Those babies were going to cost money to raise, and he’d be chipping into that down payment he’d squirreled away in no time. Plus, he knew he couldn’t do this alone indefinitely. His aunt would come help full-time for a while, but she’d never take the place of a real mom. He hoped to get married and bring his wife back to his own land...not another man’s.

      “So how much have you researched about this ranch so far?” Casey asked.

      “The maps I could find online and in local records were limited,” she replied. “But my great-great-grandmother wrote a journal where she talked about some specific landmarks. If I could find the actual site of the old house, there’s something I know to look for. My great-great-great grandfather put a single red brick in the front of the fireplace. It was something they brought from across the country—a touchstone of sorts. I don’t know if I’ll be able to find it, though. Plus, I’m waiting to hear back from some local historical societies.”

      Casey glanced toward her again. “And if you don’t find the landmarks?”

      “I don’t have unlimited resources, so this purchase has to be the right one. If this isn’t the land I think it is, then I’m not buying it. There are cheaper ways to open therapy centers.”

      Hope surged up inside of Casey’s chest. Maybe Ember Reed was just a temporary inconvenience on the Vern ranch. Maybe this wasn’t the spot her family had settled after all, she’d go on her way and he could buy this land fair and square. He had plans for raising a family here, too—an honest, hardworking family who would raise cattle and ranch like the generations of Courtrights before him. Casey knew this ranch like the back of his hand. It wasn’t a huge operation, but he’d been running it well, and the chance to be a landowner once more...it was enough to make him hope in that dangerous way that meant his heart was already set on it.

      He had an attachment to this land already, too. He’d imagined himself living up in the big house, hiring another manager and being the owner who called the shots...and in his mind, that felt really good! He’d be able to bring his dad back to live with him, and his old man could live his last years on Courtright land.

      So, yeah—if it didn’t make things harder on Mr. Vern and his sick wife, Casey would like to see this land come to him. He was praying that God would provide for them all.

      “That’s my place ahead,” Casey said as he turned into the drive that led up to the ranch manager’s house. It was within sight of the ranch hands’ bunkhouse just down another gravel road. The ranch manager’s house was a small one-bedroom bungalow, and as he parked and pushed open the truck door, he could already hear the babies’ plaintive wails, and he felt that wave of anxiety he always did at the sound of their cries.

      Ember hopped out, too, and she followed him around the truck toward the side door of the house. Casey pulled open the door and held it for Ember, letting her step inside ahead of him. Bert stood in the kitchen with Wyatt in his arms, a bottle in one hand and a panicked look on his face.

      “They woke up at the same time, boss,” Bert said.

      “I’ll get Will,” Casey said, heading through to the sitting room, and he scooped up the baby, settling him into the crook of his arm. The baby kept up his wailing, and Casey headed back to the kitchen, turning on the hot tap on his way past the sink.

      “Ember, would you grab the bottle in the fridge?” he said.

      Ember did as he’d asked and handed it over. Casey stuck it under the hot tap until the count of twenty, then shook it up and tested it against his hand. Warm. Perfect. He popped the nipple into Will’s mouth, and there was blessed silence as both babies slurped back the milk.

      “I’m Bert,” the old ranch hand said, nodding to Ember.

      “This is Ember Reed,” Casey said. “She’s—” how much to say? “—she’s a special guest of Mr. Vern’s. I’m showing her around.”

      “Pleasure.” Bert smiled. “But I’ve got to head out. I still have work to do out there. Mind if I just pass this little guy over?”

      Ember’s eyes widened, and she was about to answer when Bert deftly eased the baby into her arms. Bert stood there, still holding the bottle until Ember had the baby in a comfortable position and took the bottle from his hands.

      “Thanks,