"You were breathtaking. And tenacious. Your arms were shaking from the effort to loosen those lug nuts, and you would have stood on that shoulder all night and the whole next day before you asked for help." I press my lips to her hair, smelling the fresh scent of rose. "I took one look at you and thought, there she is."
She props up on an elbow, her eyes serious. "There she is?" she repeats, testing the words. "You thought that?"
"From the very first second."
She kisses me, slow and tender, and the memory of this moment is something I know I will carry for the rest of my life. When she draws back, her eyes search mine, and whatever she finds there makes her expression soften.
I think about that ring in my jeans pocket and wonder how long I can wait.
"I love you, Charlie Hayden."
"I love you, Sunny Reese. Always will."
She tucks against me, her breathing settling into the deep, even rhythm that tells me sleep is dragging her under. I click off the lamp, and the room fills with the silver light of a full moon pouring through the windows.
I hold the woman I love in the dark, listening to the night sounds of the ranch that has become my home. I think about that dusty highway shoulder, the fiercely independent woman, and the fierce blue stare that changed everything.
Some things are absolutely worth the wait.
Epilogue
Sunny
Six months later
Twin Oaks is already humming at noon, and the day's only getting started.
The dining table has been extended to its full length, with ten places set and enough wildflower bouquets to stock a roadside stand. Through the kitchen windows, I watch Chef Delany pull a brisket from the smoker, turning it with both hands and frowning at the crust as if it personally insulted him. The smell of mesquite smoke drifts in, layered with roasted corn and something buttery from the oven.
My mother arrived first thing this morning.
Now, she and Gran are shoulder to shoulder over a cutting board, Gran's pearl-handled knife making quick work of a peach while my mother demonstrates a julienne technique that has Gran leaning in and nodding. Three hours ago they hugged a greeting in the front hall. Within thirty minutes, Gran had extracted my mother's entire personal history, as well as her secret recipe for the perfect peach cobbler. My mother, who guards her recipes the way Fort Knox guards gold, handed it over without a fight.
"I should have come sooner." My mother sets her knife down and presses her palm flat against the countertop. "I kept putting it off because of the restaurant schedule, and I am sorry for that. Six months of excuses is too many."
"Nonsense." Gran waves a hand. "You're here now, and that's what matters."
My mother's smile reaches her eyes, and she catches my gaze across the room and mouthsI love this woman. I turn back to the napkins, steadying myself against the unexpected swell of happiness.
The front door bangs open, and Evie Freeman's booming voice cuts through the house.
"Uncle Charlie! We're here!" she singsongs.
I round the corner just in time to catch Charlie taking the last three stairs in one stride, his dark hair still damp from the shower and a clean shirt half-tucked at his waist. Charlie sweeps Evie up before she's made it two steps, tucking her against his side while she shrieks with delight, her dark curls, pinned up and already escaping on one side, bouncing against her cheek.
"Hey there, Button." He plants a kiss on her plump cheek.
I move in beside them and point at Evie's feet. "Look at those purple boots. They're so pretty," I comment, and she beams at me. "Are they new?"
She bobs her head, sending the curls into a frenzy.
Mason comes through the door next with the infant car seat, Rachel at his shoulder with the diaper bag. Cody follows carrying a casserole dish, and Burt and Alice, Mason’s parents, bring up the rear.
"Well, there you are," Gran says, her voice warm as she takes them all in, her gaze lingering on Rachel before it drops to the carrier. "Come in, come in."
"Now, let me see my new great-grandson." Gran reaches for the car seat before Mason has fully set it down. She peers insideand lets out a soft "there he is," her fingertip going straight to his cheek.
Levi Theodore Freeman is one month old, his sweet little face pink and peaceful, eyes closed, hands open and relaxed against the blanket. Rachel lifts him from the seat and settles him against her shoulder.
