Chase shook his head. “I doubt you’d ever get Peggy Sue to agree to that.”

Emily could hardly fault Peggy Sue for not wanting to leave the ranch and the protection it offered. Until finding that letter from her uncle, Emily had believed the ranch safe too. She now knew what a mistake that had been.

“How are your other students doing?” he asked, sounding genuinely interested.

“Better than I’d hoped. I don’t think they notice Ginny’s blindness anymore, and she likes having them around.”

“That’s good,” he said. “I’m glad it’s all workin’ out.”

Surprised by how much his approval meant to her, Emily chewed on her bottom lip and wished to God she’d never found that letter from her uncle’s company.

Chase held her gaze for a long moment. “Last week…” he began, and something in his voice made her heart squeeze in her chest. “You called me husband.”

She drew in her breath. The word had rolled off her tongue with such ease that she’d hardly noticed. “Was…was that a problem?”

“No, no problem. It’s just…” She heard his intake of breath. “For a moment, it sounded like we were really married.”

She frowned. “But we are married.”

“I don’t mean just legally. I mean…it sounded like we were together for real.”

With a shock, she realized how much she wanted that, wanted them to be husband and wife in the way the good Lord intended. But the damage her uncle had done to the town, to the ranch, made that an impossible dream.

When she failed to respond, Chase let out an audible sigh. “I know you’re not fond of cattle. Or the ranch.” His voice rang with disappointment. “But I thought—”

“I’m glad I could help you keep the ranch,” she said abruptly, her cool manner belying her misery. At first, she had hated the isolation of the ranch. But that was before. Before she’d met Cookie and the rest of the ranch family. Before she had experienced the joy of horseback riding. Before she had gotten to know and, yes, maybe even love the stranger she had married…

He’d turned his head away before she could read his expression. Even so, she sensed—felt—his withdrawal. But it couldn’t be helped. If she gave in to her feelings now, it would only make things more difficult, more painful, more unbearable when it came time to leave.

From the distance came a chorus of yipping animals. The sound was a grim reminder that the life she’d escaped could be slowly closing in on her, and she shuddered.

As if he’d sensed something, Chase’s head snapped back in her direction. “Cold?” he asked.

“No. It’s just…the wolves.”

“Coyotes,” he said. He guided his horse away from the fence. “Don’t worry,” he called over his shoulder. “They sound closer than they are.”

“Not worried,” she said, urging her horse to follow. It wasn’t the coyotes that concerned her. It was the feeling she was more deeply involved in the ranch, its residents, and its owner than she’d ever intended, and certainly more deeply than was wise.