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Chapter Eighteen

Emma crossed the bridge that led to Hope Eternal Ranch, her headlights carving a path through the darkness and directing her home. Driving away from Missy this time had been excruciating, because the child had cried and cried and cried.

It was hard to leave her behind in San Antonio when she was cheerful, a smile on her pretty face and her hand waving as Emma drove away. But to see and hear her sobbing into Fran’s shoulder?

So much worse.

Emma felt like someone had tied a dozen bags of rocks to her limbs, and her eyes burned with exhaustion. She had no tears left in her eyes, and they were now a barren desert—and it honestly felt like she’d rubbed sand in them.

She eased to a stop just past the fence, her tires crunching over the gravel. She cut the engine but stayed in the car. Only a soft glow came from the West Wing from a light someone had probably left on by accident. Probably Hannah, as the woman stayed up really late, and never turned off a light.

Emma had needed an extra day in San Antonio so she could talk to Fran and Matt in a rational way, while Missy was in school. They’d discussed Robert, and what Emma’s options were. There were many, and Emma didn’t dare let herself start to think about them right now, or she’d never go to sleep.

She left her bag sitting on the passenger seat and went inside the West Wing. She stopped at the fridge for something to drink and then tiptoed down the hall to her bedroom. The moment she lay down after changing into her pajamas, she fell asleep. She was just that tired.

She woke only a moment before her alarm went off, and Emma groaned as she rolled over and dismissed it. She kept taking slow, even breaths, though her need to use the restroom wouldn’t allow her to go back to sleep.

She finally got up and into the shower, realizing she’d left her toiletries out in the car. She made do with the soaps and shampoos she had in the bathroom, and started putting her façade together.

The makeup. The cute clothes. The hair.

All of it bothered her now. All of it felt like a huge amount of work for no reason whatsoever. She looked at herself in the mirror, and though she had the same pair of brown eyes looking back, and her hair really had gone into perfect waves that morning, and her eyeliner had never been more en pointe, she felt ugly.

She wasn’t herself.

The real problem was she didn’t know who she was.

Sighing, she turned away from the confrontation with herself and went outside. A glance to the Annex only revealed landscape, and she’d half-expected Ted to be waiting for her, the way he’d done several times in the past. They’d held hands on the way to the stables before, and Emma missed him keenly in that moment.

He’d called and texted several more times, but she’d been so busy, and then so preoccupied, and then so out of it, that she hadn’t returned his messages. His last text has asked her to call him so he could hear her voice, and Emma’s chest warmed. Maybe she hadn’t ruined everything with him.

“Maybe you should call him right now.” She took her phone out of her pocket and did just that.

“Emma?” he asked after only one ring.

“Hey, Teddy,” she said, her mouth automatically curving up into a smile. “I got your message about calling, but it was really late last night.”

“Yeah, I heard you pull in.”

“You did?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “Where are you?” Up ahead, she saw him step out of the stables, and Emma quickly lifted her hand in a wave. “There you are.” He started striding toward her, and Emma didn’t say anything, but she didn’t hang up either.

He finally lifted his phone away from his ear, and then pushed it into his back pocket. “Hey,” he said as he drew nearer and nearer. He swept her right into his arms, and Emma wondered if this was what it felt like to come home. Funny how within the circle of Ted Burrows’s arms had become her safe space.

“I’ve been so worried about you.” He stepped back, and now he wore displeasure in his eyes. “I don’t like it when you leave town like that.”

“I know.” Emma bristled at his tone, but she couldn’t really blame him.

“Where’d you go?”

“San Antonio,” she said, already weary of the conversation. She’d enjoyed the hug, and she’d felt his relief at seeing her. But he still had enormous expectations for her, and Emma already knew she couldn’t deliver. She stepped past him and continued toward the stables. “Thanks for feeding the babies yesterday.”

“Yeah,” he said, following her. “Is that what we’re doing?”

“Is what what we’re doing?”

“Emma.” He put his hand on her upper arm, and she stopped walking.

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