Ransom pushed off from the tree, his grin widening as he sauntered toward us. "Guess that means he said yes?" he asked, though the answer was obvious from the ring now glinting on my finger in the fading light.
"He said yes," Harlow announced, his voice ringing with joy as he hugged me tightly against his side. "He said I was his home."
The simple repetition of my words made my throat tighten with emotion. Harlow had heard me—truly heard me—and those words had clearly meant as much to him as they did to me.
Knox nodded approvingly, his usually stern expression softened by genuine happiness. "Deputy Dan McKenzie," he said, testing the sound of it. "Got a good ring to it."
The casual way he'd added his family name to mine sent a wave of belonging washing over me so powerful I had to blink back tears. From the very beginning, Knox had been the most accepting of the brothers, but this was more than acceptance. This was claiming me as one of them.
Pa stepped forward, his weathered face creased in what might have been a smile or a grimace—it was hard to tell with Jebediah McKenzie. "Just so we're clear," he said, his gruff voice carrying across the clearing, "my moonshine recipe doesn't become yours just because you're marrying in. Some things stay McKenzie by blood only."
The unexpected joke from the normally serious patriarch startled a laugh from all of us, breaking any remaining tension.Even Ma chuckled, wiping discreetly at her eyes with the corner of her apron.
"Come on, then," Pa continued, turning back toward the path that led to the main house. "Dinner's getting cold, and I'm not listening to your ma complain about ruined potatoes just because you two decided to get engaged at sunset."
The casual way he referenced our engagement, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, warmed me from the inside out. The McKenzies moved as a unit, turning to head back to the farmhouse, clearly expecting us to follow. Harlow squeezed my hand, and we fell in step behind them, the ring a new and welcome weight on my finger.
As we walked, I marveled at how completely I'd been embraced by this once-intimidating family. Just months ago, I'd been the outsider—the new deputy from the city who didn't understand their ways. Now I was being welcomed not just as Harlow's partner, but as a future McKenzie.
The farmhouse glowed with warm light as we approached, smoke curling from the chimney into the darkening sky. The scent of Ma's cooking wafted through the open windows—roast chicken and fresh bread, comforting and homey. As we reached the porch steps, Ma hung back, letting the others file inside ahead of us.
She stopped me with a gentle hand on my arm, her eyes searching my face with an intensity that made me stand a little straighter. "Take care of my boy," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. The words were simple, but her eyes communicated so much more—gratitude for saving her husband from the fire, blessing for the commitment I'd just made, and trust that I would never hurt her son.
"With everything I am," I promised, meaning it more than any oath I'd ever taken—including my deputy's pledge. This was the woman who had raised Harlow, who had protected him(sometimes too much) his entire life. Her entrusting him to me was a gift beyond measure.
She nodded once, seemingly satisfied, then turned to follow the others inside.
The dining room was chaotic in the way only large family gatherings can be—everyone talking over each other, dishes being passed, chairs scraping against the floor. Harlow led me to two empty seats near the middle of the table, his hand never leaving mine. When we sat down, he deliberately placed our joined hands on the tabletop, the ring visible to everyone.
"About time you made an honest man of our brother," Bodean called from across the table, raising his water glass in a mock toast. "He's been mooning over you since you first gave him a ticket for that broken taillight."
"I never gave him a ticket," I protested automatically, then caught the teasing glint in Bodean's eye. "I just warned him."
"And then followed him halfway across town to 'make sure he got home safe,'" Ransom added, making exaggerated air quotes. "Real professional, Deputy."
The table erupted in laughter, and even I couldn't help but join in. Harlow's ears turned pink, but his smile never dimmed as he squeezed my hand beneath the table.
Throughout dinner, I noticed small, but significant changes in how various family members interacted with me. Burnell, who had once watched me with suspicious eyes, asked my opinion on a town council matter. Cyrus, who had barely spoken three words to me before, offered to show me the best fishing spots on the property "now that you'll be around permanent." Georgia insisted I take seconds, then thirds, treating me with the same fussing attention she gave her nephews.
Most surprising was Hetty, who had once been my greatest obstacle. Now she moved around the table, refilling glasses and adding food to plates, treating me exactly the same as she didher sons. When she reached me, her hand briefly rested on my shoulder in a touch that held both approval and welcome.
I caught Harlow watching his family's interactions with wonder in his eyes, as if he couldn't quite believe how seamlessly I'd been woven into the McKenzie tapestry. I knew exactly how he felt. This belonging, this acceptance, was something neither of us had dared hope for just months ago.
Under the table, I twisted the new ring on my finger, already growing accustomed to its presence. Deputy Dan McKenzie. It did have a nice ring to it.
Dinner at the McKenzie house always lasted hours, with stories and laughter flowing as freely as the coffee and pie that followed the meal. By the time Harlow and I finally said our goodbyes, night had fully claimed the valley.
We walked hand in hand down the path toward our cabin, the only sounds our footsteps on the packed earth and the symphony of night creatures that called the forest home.
Above us, the stars spread across the sky like diamonds scattered on black velvet, more brilliant than I'd ever seen them in the city lights of my past life.
Harlow's hand was warm and solid around mine, his thumb occasionally brushing over the gold band that now encircled my finger. The metal caught the silvery moonlight when we passed through clearings in the trees, winking like it had its own small star tucked within it. I couldn't stop stealing glances at it, this physical symbol of the commitment we'd made to each other.
"Your mother didn't seem surprised," I said, breaking the comfortable silence between us. "About the proposal."
Harlow's low chuckle rumbled through the darkness. "She gave me the ring this morning. Told me not to chicken out."
"Chicken out?" I laughed, squeezing his hand. "You've run into burning buildings. You took down armed men twice yoursize. You rebuilt an entire barn with your bare hands. I don't think anyone would ever accuse you of being chicken."
