“Yeah,” I say. “I did.” I think of the boots and the ring, wondering if he’ll ever dare propose again.
He closes the space between us, his hands settling on my waist. “Move in with me. Let’s do what we need to do while we’re here to get you moved. If you want to keep your apartment until you’re sure, I’ll pay for it, but come home with me. Be home with me. I want—”
“Me, too. Yes. Yes. I don’t care about the apartment. I just want to be back home with you.”
He smiles, this brilliant smile that lights me up inside, and then he kisses me. “Home it is, then.” He brushes my hair behind my ear, an intimate and familiar move that I missed beyond words. “What do you need here? Can I just have someone pack you up?”
“I can get a few more things now and do the rest later. I need to focus on the festival.”
“You can let a mover do the rest. Call me impatient, but I want our lives back together fully.”
“I do, too.”
He cups my head and rests his forehead against mine. “We adopt.” He pulls back to look at me. “Or we just get more horses.”
“You have a lot of horses.”
“We have a lot of horses.”
I smile. “We. We sounds good.”
“Let’s go eat with Jason and Jessica, and after, we’ll swing by your apartment.”
“Actually, I need to buy a car. A rental isn’t cost-effective.”
“Do you know what you want?”
“I have no idea.”
“We have an extra vehicle. You want to drive it while you decide?”
We. I will never get tired of that word. “Yes. That sounds perfect.”
He laces the fingers of one of my hands with his and kisses my knuckles. “Then, that’s what we’ll do.”
We share a smile, and a few minutes later, when we walk into the restaurant downstairs hand in hand to a table filled with Jessica, Jason, Ruth, and Martha, they stand up and clap, and I blush, but it’s one heck of a happy blush.
…
Roarke…
Breakfast wraps up, and Jason motions for me to join him in the hotel lobby. We walk underneath the winding stairs leading to the second level and claim two chairs against the wall. “The party was good. You two okay?”
“Better when I get this family stuff out.” I scrub my jaw. “You’re sure we can make this happen? Because I’m not waiting to tell her to have it blow up in my face.”
“How can buying the property from the government and returning it to her family blow up in your face?”
Here is a man who gave up his baseball career when his parents died to take over his family’s struggling ranch and to protect the families depending on it, rather than filing for bankruptcy. He barely blinked when I told him that his father was willing to sell it off and put them all out on the street and our horses with them. Instead of dwelling on his father’s part in the family feud, he was all about “How do we fix this for you and Hannah?”
“Seriously, man,” he says. “This is going to work out.”
“I’ve tried to buy that property for Hannah. For years.”
“And now you’ve told me, and I’m in the unique position of knowing a lot of powerful people. The team owner is on this. He’ll make it happen.”
“Have you told Jessica about this? Does she think waiting to tell Hannah when I can hand her the property deed is the right move?”
“I haven’t told her, but talk to her when we get back. If she disagrees with our plan, then weigh your own feelings, and do what’s right.”
“What I want is to put a ring on Hannah’s finger and marry her before this explodes in my face, but that’s selfish and wrong. I need to open this wound and throw medicine on it, and this feels like the way, but she brought up me not going after her again. It’s killing me not to explain why.” I shake my head. “Maybe I just won’t tell her that her parents sent the video.”
“It will always be there between you and her if you don’t. I think she needs to know. Not only that, but one of the reasons you didn’t go after her was because you knew how it would affect her with her parents.”
“Which is why I still don’t want to say more than I have to,” I argue.
He leans in closer. “Why didn’t you go after her? How do you make that right?”
I don’t try to explain to him how betrayed I felt in the days after what happened. I don’t try to explain that right when I would have gone after her, this shit with our parents exploded. When I did call, when I got drunk enough to say screw our parents, her number was already changed. But I have to say it all to Jessica.
“Hell,” Jason adds. “I think you need a female’s opinion. Talk to Jessica.”
“And propose before or after I give her the property?”
“Oh yeah.” He slaps his knees. “You need Jessica. In the meantime, I’m going to get that property.” He pats my shoulder, and we stand up, walking together back to the lobby, where we find Jessica and Hannah standing together. The two fast friends are in deep conversation, but I only see one of them. The beautiful brunette I want to be my wife. She must feel my attention because her gaze lifts and turns, colliding with mine.
She smiles this stunning smile and rushes toward me, pushing to her toes to kiss me. “The hotel’s delivering the flowers to the children’s hospital. See? You did something special twice with those flowers.”
I cup her head and kiss her firmly on the mouth before I say, “You’re something special. I’m not letting you get away.”
“Stop saying that. It makes it seem like I’m trying to leave again. I’m not going anywhere.”
No. She’s not. I’m going to find a way to heal our families. I’m going to be the damn Sweetwater Whisperer if it kills me. Because I have to. I love her too damn much to accept any other answer.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Hannah…
Roarke and I arrive at my little apartment, and I stop him before we head inside. “This place isn’t fancy, but I’m launching a business. I got a lump sum payout from my boss when he let me go, and I’m investing that in my business, not a place to live.” His hands come down on my shoulders, and he pulls me to him. “I know you were successful in L.A. I followed your photographer to follow you.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, Han, I did. I told you. I never got over you.”
“But you dated. You had to have someone—”
“No one who mattered, but there were times when I wanted to find someone. I wanted you to stop controlling my life, but there was no chance of that happening. What about you?”
“Same. Exactly the same.”
“No hot model or Hollywood star sweeping you off your feet?”
“I never got over you, and how can anyone compare to the Horse Wrangler?”
“Don’t do that. Don’t put me up on some pedestal, Han. I’m right here with you, and I’m no one without you.”
“I know that. I was young, too young maybe. I hadn’t found my own footing, my own confidence. Now, we’re the same but different. I think that’s good.”
“Then why are we standing out here? The apartment doesn’t matter.”
“No,” I say, smiling. “It doesn’t.” I push to my toes and kiss him. “I love you, Horse Wrangler, and yes, I’m calling you that. It’s very sexy.”
He arches a dark brow. “Is that right?”
“Yes. It is.” I twist in his arms and decide I know the perfect way to say goodbye to this apartment. I unlock the door, grab his belt, and tug. “Come inside, Horse Wrangler.”
…
After spending a few hours at my apartment, Roarke and I finally pack up everything we can fit in the car, and I run back inside for my favorite camera. I’m just walking down the stairs when a kid runs up them, smacks into me, and sends my camera flying.
I cry out for my baby and dive for it, but it’s too late. It crashes to the ground. Roarke rounds the steps, obviously responding to my cry out. I glance over my shoulder, and the kid is gone.
“What happened?” he asks, picking up the camera pack for me.
“A kid knocked it out of my hands. I don’t even want to know if it’s damaged right now. Let’s just get out of here before I cry.”
He wraps his arm around my shoulders, and we start down the stairs. “We’ll buy a new one if it’s broken.”
“It’s six grand, Roarke. It was my first big purchase when my career took off.”
“We have money, Hannah.” We pause at the bottom of the steps, and he kisses me. “We’ll get another camera if you need it.”
The funny thing about Roarke is that I know he wants to take care of me, but I don’t feel owned or controlled. He’s never been that way. He’s just so damn perfect. Money doesn’t matter to him, and therefore, he’s generous with what he has, which I know because I’ve seen it firsthand. Those retired horses cost money to support, lots of money. So it’s not the offer of a camera that makes me love him all the more right now; it’s the reminder of his generosity and the way he’s already made us one.
…
I call Linda once we’re on the road. “What’s happening?” she asks. “You’re moving in with Roarke? What about Cindy? Wait. Is he right there with you?”
“Yes,” I say tightly.
“Okay, I’ll talk. Did he do it?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?” she presses. “Really sure?”
“Yes and yes.” We talk a few more minutes and disconnect. I glance at Roarke. “How much did you hear?”
“All of it.”
Of course he did. “And?” I prod. “Say what you’re thinking.”
“I hope you really are sure.”
“I am, or I wouldn’t be moving in with you.”
“Good.” He glances over at me. “Because I love you, Han.”
“I love you, too, so stop talking about this. Let’s talk about the festival.”
And so we do. We talk about the festival and horses and my photography. We talk about everything and anything, and it feels good and right. We talk so much that there isn’t a moment of silence the entire ride back to Sweetwater, and when we arrive there, the town feels like home. Our path leads us right past my old family property when I spy that deer again. “Stop, Roarke.”
He halts the truck, and I point to the deer. “I saw it the other day when I stopped by and then again at your house.” I glance over at him. “She felt like a sign of hope. It feels special that she’s here now, while we drive home together.” Two baby deer dart out of the bushes, and I suck in air.
Roarke turns to me and catches my arms. “We have babies. A bunch of them waiting a mile up the road for you to sing to them.”
“I know.” I touch the strong line of his jaw. “You’d make beautiful babies.”
“We’d make beautiful babies. We’ll get a surrogate if we need to, Han. We’ll do what we need to do if that’s what we decide is right for us.”
“I never thought of that idea.”
“That’s why we figure these things out together, baby. We’re better together.” He kisses my hand. “Let’s go home.”
We settle back into our seats, and a few minutes later, we’ve just gotten the suitcases and boxes in the house when Javier rushes up the steps and meets us on the porch. “We have an emergency horse being flown in now. This one is in your wheelhouse. I was about to call you.”
“How far out?” Roarke asks.
“Twenty minutes.”
“We’ll meet you at the hospital,” Roarke replies.
He nods and then gives me a mock salute before he heads down the stairs while Roarke turns to me. “We got back at just the right time. Thank God.”
His response isn’t, oh God, we just got home, but good timing. “Yes,” I agree. “Good timing.”
“Let me get your things upstairs, and then we can head over there.”
“I’ll get everything out of the doorway. You go get ready for surgery, get up to speed on the case. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
His eyes warm with my understanding of where he needs to be focused right now. He grabs me, kisses me, and starts a jog toward the hospital. I get both our overnight bags upstairs and unpacked so that if this surgery runs late, Roarke can just pass out and rest. I’m just about to head back downstairs when I spy the boots on the chair. The boots that hold my ring. I walk over to the chair and pick them up, resolutely carrying them back to the bed, kneeling beside it where I stick the boots back underneath. That’s where they belong until Roarke pulls them out. We were meant to find each other again, and we did. We found each other. The rest will work out this time. Nothing is going to tear us apart. I truly believe that.
Chapter Forty
Roarke…
It’s a few nights after our return to Sweetwater, and Hannah and I are at Jason’s. The women are all inspecting brochures for the festival and making plans. Jason is in the mix of it all with them, so I head out onto the porch. The door opens behind me, and Jessica steps outside, joining me at the railing, shivering due to a chilly breeze, which is a hint of our version of a mild winter.
“I hear you might want to talk to me.”
I turn to face her, and she does the same to me. “What do you know?”
“Pretty much everything. I can’t believe her parents did all that they did. It’s going to hurt her. She talks about them a lot. She’s trying to get them here for the festival.”
“Should I tell her now?”
“I think handing her the deed to the land gives her something positive to focus on in the middle of the negative you’re going to share with her. And Jason says he really thinks he can make that happen for you.”
“But it’s weeks out,” I say. “It’s killing me not to just tell her. It’s killing me not to just propose, but I feel like I need to deal with this first.”
“Are you ready to propose?”
“I never wanted her to take the ring off. Hell yes, I’m ready. I was thinking Thanksgiving, though, just to give her time to feel how damn much I love her.”
“That’s perfect. You should have the deed by then, or at least, that’s how Jason makes it sound, but honestly, I think you should propose before you tell her, and hear me out. The family rivalry will take away from what should be untarnished and special. Give her a chance to enjoy that moment with nothing to tear it apart.”
“I have to tell her about this. It’s eating me alive.”
“Propose and then let her enjoy the success of the festival, the one she’s worked hard to make perfect. Then, tell her well before Christmas, so it doesn’t screw up Christmas.”
I take in her suggestions, and they sit well. “It’s a good plan. I’ll propose on Thanksgiving.”
“Do you have a ring?”
“Her old ring, but I took it in yesterday to have it turned into a necklace. I picked a new ring. A new us. A new ring.”
“Is it bigger than the last one?” She holds up her hands. “Not that it matters.”
I laugh. “Yes. It’s bigger.”
“Can I see it when you pick it up?” she prods.
“You can see it when Hannah puts it on her finger,” I say, vowing to keep this one on her finger.
Chapter Forty-One
Hannah…
In the month following me moving in with Roarke, we grow closer than I’d ever imagined possible, and I’d thought we were close the first go-around. But this time, it’s as if we value us all the more because we know how easily we could lose each other.
Easily, as if it’s natural, I start doing what I’ve always loved doing: photographing nature and the animals, in particular the horses and even the Horse
Wrangler himself. Secretly, at first, I submit my shots to magazines, contests, and my agent, who is glad to see me active again. After seeing my recent shots, she coordinates a gallery showing for me in Dallas in January, and this news not only has me excited, it earns me more lilies from Roarke, who shares in my joy. He knows what this means to me, I feel that in him, and that’s easy to do, considering we spend every moment possible together and without interruption thus far. That is, until the weekend before Thanksgiving, when we wake to an emergency call for Roarke that will take him to Tennessee.
“I can’t go,” I say as he throws the blankets off our bed. “The festival is only a week away.”
“I know, baby,” he says, meeting me at the end of the bed. “You can’t always be with me, no matter how much I wish you could. You take care of the festival.” He strokes my hair and kisses me, before setting me aside to hurry to the shower.
I pull on leggings and a tank top and rush downstairs, fighting a wave of weird queasiness as I make him coffee and then fill a thermos with it blended just the way he likes it. It’s not long before we’re at the chopper pickup site with me behind the wheel of the Jeep I’ve been driving and loving for the past few weeks. “After this festival,” he says, “I want you to come with me on these trips. You can bring your camera.”
“I’d love that,” I say, because as much as I’ve enjoyed planning the festival, my camera is loving my new direction, and it’s given new life to my photography.
I watch as he rushes away and the helicopter lifts off, disappearing into the horizon. Once I’m back at the house, I hurry upstairs to shower and change when I have a sudden realization. I haven’t started my period. I grab the bathroom sink, stunned. I can’t get pregnant. Or I can, but it’s like a five percent chance. That basically means I can’t get pregnant. And if I did, by some odd, freak chance, have that happen, we aren’t ready for that. Roarke hasn’t said a word about marriage. Not a word. Not that it matters. We’re happy. We are, but we’re still new to this second chance we’re giving ourselves. I press my hands to my face. I have so many feelings right now. I drop my hands. I need to take a test, but I can’t get one in this town without word getting out.
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