I lowered myself to one knee. The porch boards creaked beneath me, the same boards my grandfather had nailed down sixty years ago, the same porch where Gran had said yes on a night just like this one.
“This was my grandmother’s ring. She wore it for fifty-three years. She told me to give it to the woman who chooses this life with me.” My voice was steady. Certain. “You chose me, Riley. You chose this ranch and this life and a man who comes with too much baggage and not enough sleep. You chose Mia. You chose us.”
I took her hand. She was shaking. Or maybe I was.
“A week ago, I thought I’d lost you. And standing there, watching them load you into that ambulance, I realized how much time I’d wasted being afraid. Afraid to want too much.Afraid to hope. Afraid if I asked for everything, I’d end up with nothing.”
I looked up at her. Tears streamed down her face, catching the starlight.
“I’m not scared anymore. I’m asking for everything.” I squeezed her hand. “Riley Santos, will you marry me? For real this time. Not because we have to. Because I love you. Because I want to spend the rest of my life waking up next to you. Because I can’t imagine this ranch or this life or any of it without you in it.”
She was crying. Laughing. Both at once, the way she did when emotions got too big for one response.
“You’re an idiot.”
She was already pulling me up by the front of my jacket, shaking her head with something between laughter and tears.
“We’re already married.”
I searched her face anyway, like I needed confirmation written somewhere I could hold onto.
“Is that a yes?”
She didn’t answer.
She kissed me instead—hard and unguarded, the kind of kiss that doesn’t negotiate. It tasted like tears and cold night air, her arms locking around my neck as I dragged her closer, hands sliding into her hair like I was afraid she might disappear if I let go.
When she finally pulled back, she was grinning, breathless, eyes bright.
“Yes.”
The word came soft but certain.
“Yes, I’ll marry you. Again. Properly. With a dress and flowers and Mia throwing petals everywhere.”
My hands were shaking when I slid the ring onto her finger. It settled beside the plain gold band I’d bought in a rush eight months ago—the one that had started everything. The two rings fit together like they’d been waiting for each other. Like this had always been the plan.
I didn’t look away from her when the words came out.
“I love you.”
Her fingers tightened around mine.
“I love you too.” She lifted her hand, turning it slightly, watching the moonlight catch the stone. “Your grandmother had good taste.”
“She would have loved you.”
Her eyes flicked back to mine.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. She always said I needed someone stubborn enough to stick around.”
Riley laughed and leaned into me, resting her head against my chest like it belonged there. We stood that way for a moment, looking out over the land my family had built—the pastures washed silver under the stars, the mountains dark and steady against the horizon.
She tipped her head back just enough to look up at me.
“So. When’s the wedding?”
