She nodded, her eyes steady. “You’re doing the right thing.”
I swallowed, my chest aching.
“Mom said it’s up to us to find them. She never did, because of the pain, the betrayal. But I want to know them, Portia. I want to know if Dad gave them what he gave us. I can’t explain it.”
Her hand tightened, her voice soft. “He gave you strength. Loyalty. Love. If they’re his, they’ll have it, too.”
I looked at her, her words sinking in, grounding me. “I hope so.”
She smiled, her fire sparking, and I knew it was time. I stepped closer, my hands still in my pockets.
“Portia,” I said, my voice low, “there’s something else.”
She tilted her head, her smile teasing. “What, you planning another secret mission?”
I laughed, the sound rough, nervous.
“Not exactly. I was wondering … if there’s room for one more wedding.”
She laughed, her eyes bright, thinking I was joking.
“Silas, don’t mess with me. I’ve got six ceremonies to nail in less than a week.”
I pulled out the velvet box from my pocket, opened it, the ring glinting in the sunlight—a simple band, a single diamond, chosen because it reminded me of her fire, her strength. Her laugh died, her eyes wide, her breath catching. “Silas …”
“I’m serious,” I said, my voice steady, my heart bare. “Marry me, Portia. Be my family, my home. But there’s one condition—you invite yours. Your sisters, your brothers, your parents. Let them see who you’ve become.”
Her eyes filled, her hand trembling as she touched the ring.
“You mean it?”
“I’ve never meant anything more,” I said, my voice rough. “I love you. I want you, all of you—the planner, the fighter, the girl from Arkansas who built herself from nothing. I want forever, Portia.”
She laughed, a soft, broken sound, tears spilling.
“Yes,” she said, her voice fierce. “Yes, of course. But no crazy stunts for our wedding, okay?”
I grinned, pulling her close, my lips brushing her forehead.
“Deal.”
She pulled back, her smile wicked.
“Unless I want to add them.”
I laughed, the sound free, lighter than I’d ever felt, and kissed her, deep and slow, her fire burning through me.
The dossier, my half-brothers, my mother’s death—they were weights I’d carry, but with Portia, they were bearable.
My brothers would find our Montana kin, test them, maybe make them family.
The weddings would go off, Portia’s magic making them perfect. And after, we’d build our own life, rooted in love, in truth, in the family we’d both chosen.
I held her, the ring on her finger, her hand in mine, and for the first time, I wasn’t The Ghost. I was Silas Dane, a man who’d found his home.
33
PORTIA
