I watch her face. “Briar,” I say, voice rougher than I want it to be. “There’s somethin’ I need to ask you before I call Mama Rue.”
Her eyes widen.
My own heart starts to pound.
I ease my hands from her slowly, like I’m afraid the air itself might bruise her if I move too fast. Briar stays close, eyes fixed on my face.
“I… um…,” I stutter.
I can see the question in her even before she gives it shape with her body. Fear flickers first because it always does. Then trust steps in front of it.
I step back one pace.
Then I go down on one knee.
Briar freezes, and the whole cabin goes still with her. Fire snapping low in the stove. Wind brushing the wall outside. My own pulse hits hard enough to jar the words loose before I’m ready for them.
I take her hand if she’ll let me. She gives it to me without hesitation.
“Sweetheart.” My thumb strokes her knuckles once. “I ain’t got a ring. You know that. But I’ve got these mountains. This cabin. My life. And every piece of me I know how to give.”
Her eyes go wider. Wet now. Bright enough to gut me.
“I love you,” I tell her, plain as woodsmoke. “I love the way you fight. I love the way you listen. I love the way you came back here with me when you had every reason not to.” My voice roughens, but I keep going. “I want to wake up with you. Sleep beside you. Build whatever future you’ll let me build. I want you as my wife, Briar. I want you as mine in every way that matters.”
Her fingers twitch in mine.
I look up at her and let the whole truth sit there between us. No flourish. No pretty speech. Just the thing itself.
“Will you marry me?”
She stares at me like I struck the world open.
Her lips part. Nothing comes at first. Her hand tightens around mine so hard it almost hurts. Then her chest jerks, and her mouth moves again.
“Yes.”
It comes out cracked. Barely there. More air than voice. Tearing through her like it had to fight to exist.
But it is a word.
I stop breathing.
Briar’s free hand flies to her throat. Her eyes go round as moons. She looks as stunned as I feel.
Then she says it again.
“Yes.”
Stronger this time. Still rough. Still fragile. Still enough to knock me clean apart.
A laugh breaks out of me before I can stop it. Half wrecked, half wild with joy.
Briar is crying now. Smiling too. She says it one more time like she can’t believe her own mouth belongs to her.
“Yes.”
She’s claiming the word as much as she’s giving it.
