Compassion when troubled.
Inspiration when discouraged.
And acceptance, always.
There was sweetness in every day of his existence, and his wife was the sweetest of all.
Nadine picked up her phone with shaking hands. Wes answered on the first ring.
“Hello,” she said, feeling giddy. “This is Nadine Barbault from theHerald. I’d like to chat about this obit you sent through.”
“Thanks for the quick reply,” said Wes. “Is there an issue?”
“A small one I’d like to discuss,” she said. “Do you have time to talk?”
“You know, this might be better to discuss in person. Are you available at the moment?” His voice sounded a bit faint.
“I am, yes.” She tried to get the smile off her face and keep her voice professional. “Where would you like to meet?”
“I believe there’s a small park near your office.”
Nadine had never run out of the office faster. She was down the stairs and across the street in less than a minute. Shielding her eyes against the sun, she scanned the parkette until she saw Wes standing under a tree and waving to her. He looked gorgeous as always, with his black shirt tucked into his black pants, the sleeves rolled up, and his hair a little messy.
As if he’d been running his hand through it.
As if he’d been nervous.
“Hello, Nadine.”
She stopped right in front of him, smiling so hard she could barely speak. “Hello, Wes.”
“So,” he said, and she could see the sweat beading his forehead. “You said there was something wrong with the obit?”
“There was. A slight inaccuracy, and theHeraldprides itself on its quality journalism.”
“Oh?” He tried to look surprised, and she saw his pulse flutter in the throat she’d kissed so many times. “What part?”
“The part where it said you had a wife. Can we edit that line to make it correct?” It was like there was a spotlight blotting out everything but him.
“We might not have to.” He opened his hand. “Nadine Barbault. My joint and favorite competitor in this game of life. Will you marry me?”
She gazed at the ring sitting in his shaking palm. It was white gold, with an opal and tiny diamonds. Small flags were engraved on the inside. It looked familiar. “Is that Dot’s?” she asked.
He went red. “I asked Brent if I could buy it from her estate. You admired it one day, and she told you it was the ring she bought with her first royalty check fromThirty Pieces.”
“Wes.” She could barely speak. “I love it. Thank you.”
“So is that a yes?” he asked a bit impatiently. “You’re kind of leaving me hanging here.”
Tempting though it was to keep teasing him, Nadine threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Yes.”
He kissed her back, then touched their foreheads together. “Thank God,” he said. “Caleb got me worried when he told me this was too morbid for a proposal.”
“It’s not for everyone,” she said.
“That’s all right. It only has to be for you.” He kissed her again, then covered her face with kisses until she laughed. “I was thinking we could get married at Dot’s estate. You know the museum group that bought it from Brent when his buyer fell through?”
“Yes.” Sales of Dot’s books had skyrocketed in light of Wilson’s unmasking, so Brent decided to take the lower offer from the museum, which had kept the house as it was and dedicated it to Dot and her works.
