Page 45 of The Pumpkin Patch Promise

Sam put down his pencil.

“Hi.”

She stood just inside the room, looking around.

“So this is it?”

“This is it.”

She smiled. “It's perfect.”

Sam laughed. “You’re being very generous. It’s tiny. But it will do for now. I have to start somewhere and it’s a great location.”

He gestured toward a chair near the window. "It's good to see you," he said softly, keeping his voice calm and unhurried. "I'm just finishing up these structural notes for the town archives."

Prue smiled, shaking her head gently as she stayed standing beside the drafting table. "I don't need a seat," she said, her voice confident. "I came down here because I've got something to tell you, and I wanted to say it face to face."

Sam leaned back slightly against the edge of his drafting table, folding his hands loosely.

Prue looked directly at him. She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out the smooth carved wooden ornament she'd won at the Fall Festival. She set the small wooden pumpkin on the corner of the drafting table between them. "I spent the last few weeks telling myself that our six-date rule was the only way I could keep my life safe," she said, looking straight into his eyes. "I believed that setting a strict limit was the only proof that I was in control of my own choices."

Sam looked down at the carved ornament, then back up at her face. "It served us well," he said gently, keeping his tone entirely supportive. "It gave you the room you needed."

"It did," Prue agreed. "It gave me the safety I needed while I learned how to stand on my own feet. But the moment I watched you walk away yesterday, I realized something important. Holding onto something out of habit after the storm has passed isn't freedom. It's just staying behind a barrier because it's familiar."

Sam listened intently, not one hundred percent sure where she was going with this, but still feeling hopeful.

"When I ended our agreement last night in the cider barn, you accepted my decision without a single argument," Prue continued. "You didn't try to guilt me, and you didn't demand explanations. You proved that you respect my autonomy as naturally as you breathe. And that was when I realized the truth."

She moved a small, deliberate distance closer to the edge of the drafting table. "Honoring my choices includes allowing myself to make a new one when my heart is ready. And I know with absolute certainty that my heart is ready."

Sam couldn’t help the bright smile that spread across his face. "And what choice are you making?" he asked softly, keeping his hands resting on the table.

"I'm choosing you," Prue declared, the words carrying absolute clarity and peace. "Not because I need someone to fix my problems, and not because I'm looking for a rescue. I'm choosing you because I want a real, committed relationship with you. I’m choosing you because I love you, Sam."

Sam

For a second, Sam forgot how to breathe.

I love you, Sam.

The words landed with a force he hadn't been prepared for, even though some part of him had been hoping to hear them for weeks. He'd imagined this moment often enough, but none of those imagined versions came close to the reality of standing in his little office on Main Street with Prue looking straight at him, saying it without hesitation.

She wasn't asking him to save her. She wasn't handing him responsibility for her happiness. She was choosing him.

He stood and crossed the small space between them and took her face in his hands.

“I love you too,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended. “I've loved you for longer than I probably had any business admitting to myself.”

Prue laughed at his honesty, and gripped his hands.

“I'll never ask you to surrender a single piece of your independence, your home, or your work,” Sam said, his voice rich with sincere emotion. “I want to build a life beside you as an equal partner who honors who you are every single day."

Prue closed the remaining distance between them. Their lips met, soft at first, then with more certainty as Sam's arms slipped around her waist. She leaned into him, one hand curling lightly into the front of his shirt as he deepened the kiss. This was heaven. For a while, neither of them seemed inclined to pull away and Sam was not complaining. He could hold her in his arms forever.

When Sam finally lifted his head, their faces remained close, his forehead resting against hers. Prue smiled.

“Worth coming all the way to Main Street for?” Sam asked with a grin.