Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Easton Emmerson gripped the steering wheel with one hand and tapped the brake as the wrought-iron gate of Rawhide Ranch came into view. The sun was low, just beginning its descent behind the Sapphire Mountain peaks, casting long shadows across the winding drive.
The drive had taken him longer than expected.
He pulled to a stop beside the guard shack and rolled down his window. The scent of horses, dust, and pine hit him like an old song he hadn’t realized he still remembered the words to.
Admit it, man, you’re depressed.
The guard on duty wasn’t Jacob Andrews as usual but a young man in a Rawhide logo hoodie. The kid peered into the car. “Afternoon, sir. Name?”
“Easton Emmerson,” he replied, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.
The guard scanned a list on the clipboard. “Right, Dr. Emmerson. You’re expected. Someone will meet you at the front entrance.”
The gate creaked open, and Easton gave a brief nod of thanks before easing the car forward. The road curved gently, flanked by grazing pastures, scattered trees, and the wide-open sky that made Montana feel holy.
Despite his impatience to have the journey over, he eased off the gas pedal and let the quiet of the place settle over him. It was the quiet before the storm, because soon he would be surrounded by mischievous Littles here, there, and everywhere.
And maybe he’d find a way to enjoy life once more.
It had been almost six years since he’d last visited. A few weekends here and there over the years, but his life had been far too scheduled with operating rooms and trauma centers and a calendar that looked more like a punishment than a plan.
This visit was different.
He wasn’t here for play or a conference or to drop by Wilbert’s favorite boot shop.
He was here because he realized he needed some therapy, and there was nowhere else he wanted to be.
He parked in front of the main lodge and turned off the engine. The silence pressed in. Not the sterile quiet of a hospital corridor, but the heavy kind that gave your thoughts too much room.
He pushed open the car door.
A tall man stepped out from the lodge, moving with an ease that came from owning a place like this in every sense that mattered.
Derek Hawkins was still broad-shouldered and flannel-clad, with streaks of gray in his beard and kindness tucked behind the stern set of his jaw.
Sadie stood beside Derek, bundled in a fuzzy pink parka and snowflake-patterned leggings.
A knitted scarf with little hearts was looped around her neck, and her mittens peeked out from oversized sleeves as she bounced on the balls of her sheepskin boots, practically vibrating with excitement.
She looked every bit like an iced and sprinkled-topped cupcake come to life with all the charm of a sugar-high bunny in boots.
“Easton!” Accommodating to his wife’s shorter steps, Derek came forward. “Damn good to see you.”
Easton smiled, stepped out of the car, and suppressed a shiver when a cold wind ruffled the hair at the base of his neck. “Derek. It’s been too long.”
Sadie let go of her husband and trotted forward with her arms outstretched. “Dr. Easton!” she squealed and bounced like the bunny he just mentally called her.
Easton braced himself as she flung her arms around his waist. He gave her a gentle squeeze.
“It’s good to see you, Sadie.” He looped the end of her scarf back over her shoulder where it had slipped. “You’ve grown.”
She stuck out her tongue. “I’m not a weed, you know.”
Derek chuckled and pulled her back with a possessive arm around her waist. “He means you’re matured. Somewhat.”
“Rude,” Sadie huffed, though her grin only widened.
Easton’s smile drooped as he looked between the two of them. There was something about Derek’s hand resting so naturally on his Little’s hip, the ease with which Sadie curled into his side. It was enviable.
“Come in.” Derek tilted his head toward the doors. “Erika has a hot drink waiting. I’ve got a meeting so you’ve got time to settle in, but I’d love to chat before dinner if you’re up for it.”
Easton followed them inside. The lobby was as grand as he’d remembered.
As Sadie skipped past them and took a place behind the desk, plastering on an adorable “I’m a professional” expression on her face, his gaze swept over the fireplace and the seating arrangement.
This would be his home and workplace for the next six months.
A temporary contract but a deliberate step away from the hospital halls and the empty apartment he’d grown to resent.
He and Derek followed the exuberant Little at a more leisurely pace. The room practically sparkled in her wake. The vaulted ceiling gave the place space to breathe, but the stone fireplace and leather chairs made it feel like stepping into someone’s home.
It had changed some.
But not enough to feel unfamiliar.
Easton leaned against the edge of the desk, watching Erika work. She moved like someone who took pride in the space being hers too.
“Here we go.” She handed him a keycard nestled in a folder featuring the main building. “Welcome back, Dr. Easton Emmerson, Rawhide Daddy-in-Residence.”
He chuckled under his breath. “That’s a mouthful.”
“Wait till you see your name on the whiteboard,” she said as she grinned. “Sadie used glitter.”
Derek groaned from the side. “She’s not kidding.”
“You’re in one of the employee studios,” Erika said, flipping through the clipboard. “West building, second floor. You’ve got a decent view of the pastures and no neighbors for now. Staff lounge is just down the hall, and there’s a tunnel entrance if the weather turns sour.”
“Perfect.” Easton slipped the key into his coat pocket, already imagining the quiet. “And my bags?”
“Moses will bring them.” She flashed him a smile. “Probably already beat you to it.”
Easton let out a low chuckle. “Wouldn’t put it past him.”
Derek glanced at his watch, then pulled out his phone. “My meeting starts in ten. Jayne mentioned she wanted to catch up. She said she hasn’t had a proper grown-up conversation all week. I’ll let her know you’ve landed.”
“Tell her I’m not afraid of cocoa and questions.”
“Bold.” Derek tapped out the message and clapped Easton on his shoulder. “Good to have you back. I hope we can catch up soon.”
“Will do.”
Jayne emerged moments later, scarf tucked neatly around her neck and an unmistakable sparkle of curiosity in her eyes. She wasn’t holding cocoa but the familiar warmth of her presence made the lobby feel even cozier.
“I take it this is Derek’s idea of multitasking?” she glanced from one man to the other.
Easton stepped forward. “It’s good to see you, Jayne.”
She clasped his hand firmly. “Always a pleasure, Easton. Come walk with me? I’ve got a few quiet minutes before chaos finds me again.”
He gave a small nod. “Lead the way.”
They stepped into the corridor that led to the staff tunnel, and he adjusted his stride to match hers.
“It’s strange,” Easton observed. “Some things have changed.”
Nanny J hummed. “We added some things here and there.” She paused, then tapped a finger lightly against her temple.
“But the spirit’s still the same. This place was never about fancy equipment or matching sheets.
It’s about found family. A safe place for people who feel like us.
” She smiled sideways, and her intelligent eyes sparkled behind her thick-rimmed glasses. “That hasn’t changed.”
He nodded slowly, gaze forward again. “It’s why I came back.”
A moment passed before Nanny J said gently, “Taking a sabbatical wasn’t an easy call for you.”
He shook his head, exhaling through his nose. “No. I’ve always been the fix-it type. My hands—” He flexed them unconsciously. “They know what to do. In the OR, there’s a rhythm. You fall into it and everything else disappears. But after Wilbert…”
He trailed off, staring ahead into the tunnel. Nanny J waited.
“I couldn’t make the rhythm come back,” he said finally. “He was my friend. And my patient. And for all my degrees and sterile technique, I couldn’t save him.”
She reached out and tugged lightly on the hem of his coat. They walked a few more steps in silence, the corridor gently sloping downward.
She tugged lightly on the hem of his coat again, slowing him to a pause. She turned to face him more directly, and she scanned his features.
“You look tired.” She pursed her lips. “Worn thin.”
He offered a weak smile. “You’re good for my ego.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re still gorgeous and you know it. But your eye bags have eye bags, your color’s off, and I’d bet my next manicure you’ve skipped more meals than you’ve had this week.”
His mouth twitched—almost a laugh, almost a grimace. “That obvious?”
“To me?” She tapped her temple. “Very.”
Then she continued, lighter but no less sincere. “No sense beating around the bush. Moses would say something profound like grief’s like wildfire. If you don’t let it burn where it needs to, it’ll smolder and ruin everything anyway.”
Easton huffed a laugh. “I may have… deprioritized a few things.”
“Mm. And now you’re taking six months here to recharge?”
“Something like that. Six months as a Daddy-in-Residence. A working sabbatical, if you will.”
Her smile widened. “Good. The Littles will eat you alive.”
He shook his head and chuckled. They wouldn’t be that bad.
Walking in silence again, the air shifted as the corridor leveled out and light streamed in from a side window, catching the gleam of frost outside.
As they almost reached the end of the tunnel, Nanny J remarked, like she was mentioning the weather. “Funny timing, though.”
“Hm?”
“You show up the day after Wilbert’s boy checked in.”
Easton stopped cold.
“Danny?” he asked, his voice low.
She nodded. “He’s here for a month. Butterflies program.”
For a moment, the air between them thickened with memory.
“What are the odds,” he murmured.
Nanny J didn’t answer. Just slipped her arm through his and walked the rest of the way beside him in silence.