Eli touched his glass to Char’s and waited until Damien’s made a faint clinking sound, too. “To the completed circle.”
Damien kept the moment from turning utterly maudlin. “Yeah, yeah. I’m starving. Somebody cut the meat.”
Eli did the honors with practiced skill and finesse. The smell of roasted meat made her mouth water, but seeing her two favorite men in the world sharing a meal was even more delicious.
Char sampled the wine before filling her plate. “Good wine,” she said, passing the green bean casserole her son’s way.
“Libby recommended it. I called her to see which kind you like,” Eli said.
He made that thoughtful gesture sound like nothing, but she was so touched she could barely swallow her second sip.
“Did Dad tell you I met Cooper at the hospital?” Damien asked, handing her the roasted yams. “He’s funny. His two friends were pretty cool, too. William said I might be able to fly their jet someday if I get my license. Right, Dad?”
Dad. She tried not to be envious, but it was hard to control her reaction. Damien must have sensed something because he said, “It’s sorta confusing having two mothers. Like, do I call my California mom Mom One and you Mom Two? Or do I keep it simple and call you Char?”
She relaxed. “The latter, thank you.” She took a bite of meat swirled in a dab of spicy cranberries. Her taste buds erupted as she chewed. “Oh, my…good meat.”
Damien chewed a bite three times as big as hers then swallowed loudly. “Eli, on the other hand, is Dad because I only have one of those. Plus, he gets this grumpy look on his face when I call him Eli.” Under his breath, he added, “Probably because E.J.’s being such a jerk.”
Char was sorry to hear that. She had a lot of questions but decided they could wait. She didn’t want to ruin this pleasant interlude by bringing up harsh reality.
To her surprise, Eli said, “For the record, my divorce will be final in March. Our house is on the market. The girls have forgiven me and are dying to show off Damien to their friends.”
Damien whinnied as if he were a prize stud.
“Bobbi and Robert are back together. After her near-death experience, Robert’s wife, Sue, came to her senses and decided she was better off without him.”
“Wow,” Char exclaimed. “Things have been popping since you got back.”
He took a gulp of wine for courage then pushed his plate aside. “That’s true. And after careful consideration we’ve decided that Damien would be happier in a college prep high school with a more urban flavor—relatively speaking—so we’re checking out what Rapid has to offer on Monday. I have résumés with a couple of small PDs and the Highway Patrol. Once I tie up the last of those pesky loose ends, I plan to ask you to marry me.”
Damien, eyes wide with mock horror, groaned. “Eli. Dad. No. That was the suckiest proposal ever, man. What were you thinking?”
Eli shook his head stubbornly. “What did you expect? Me down on one knee? That’s not our way.”
“Our way? You mean Lakota? But it’s not like you brought her a string of ponies, man.”
Char fought to keep from laughing. They seemed so serious. She reached out and squeezed Damien’s arm, touched that he was fighting for her honor. “It’s okay. He brought venison. And my favorite wine. Besides, where would I put a string of ponies? Do you have any idea how much work they’d be? I’m going back to college. I don’t have time for ponies.”
Eli jumped to his feet. He knew he was going to lose the moment if he didn’t do something to regain control. He needed a grand gesture. And Damien was right, the ambience of dirty dishes was definitely lacking. But where…?
You know where, chickadee. What are you waiting for?
The voice. He no longer feared he was losing his mind. He was grateful for the help.
“You win, Damien. Get the doors. I’ll bring your mother.” He winked at his son as he walked to where Char was sitting, then he bent down and scooped her into his arms.
“Field trip,” Damien chortled, bouncing up with far less cool than he usually purported.
They were all in high spirits, joking and laughing, by the time they reached the teepee. Damien quickly fired up the patio heaters William had left. Within seconds, the chill had receded. The natural light that penetrated the heavy canvas embraced them like a comfortable cloak.
Char’s heart was thudding in her chest as if she’d run the entire way, instead of being carried. She wasn’t afraid, but she knew something momentous was happening and she didn’t want to miss a single image to record in her journal.
Eli stopped purposefully, at the exact center of the teepee. Blue sky and brilliant white clouds winked at them through the open cross timbers. He lowered her feet to the floor but kept her close, so when she breathed in she could feel his chest against hers.
“I love you, Charlene Jones,” he said, his gaze never leaving hers. “I love the odd, impetuous girl you were when we first met and the strong, self-reliant woman you’ve become. I would be honored and grateful if you’d love me back, from now until our children’s children whisper our story as if it were a myth. Will you marry me as soon as humanly and legally possible? Please?”
“The ring, Dad,” Damien prompted.
Eli patted his pocket and a second later pulled out a small velvet box. When he flicked it open, she couldn’t contain her gasp. She recognized the artist, Miriam Flies-With-Hawk’s, unique style. Finely pounded strands of yellow gold were woven together to create a delicate bird’s nest for two beautifully cut stones of onyx and white topaz.
“You’re the jewelry specialist,” he told her. “You can pick out our wedding bands, but when I saw this, I knew it was you.”
She slipped on the ring, which fit perfectly, then touched his cheek with her open hand. “I loved this face in secret from the first moment I saw you. Tall and proud—even a bit cocky,” she added, glancing at Damien. “I wish I’d been brave enough to tell you that.”
She brushed a tear from the corner of her eye. She’d probably always regret the years they missed out on—both together and with their son—but nothing could be gained by looking back at what was lost. They had a whole future ahead of them.
“I love you, Eli Robideaux. Always have. Always will. And, yes, of course I’ll marry you. The sooner, the better. We don’t want to be a bad influence on our son.”
They kissed. What felt like a second or two to Char must have seemed an eternity for their audience, who politely coughed. Char pressed her cheek against Eli’s shoulder and looked at the boy standing a foot or so away. Waiting.
“Come here, chickadee,” she said, motioning for him to join them. “You’re a part of this family, too.”
He did.
The circle was complete at last.
And caught up as they were in their newfound sense of hope and possibility, none noticed their observer. Sitting on the rim of the teepee above them, a small black and white bird watched the humans for several seconds then cocked its shiny head to one side, as if acknowledging its work here was done, and flew away.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-3861-0
FINDING THEIR SON
Copyright © 2009 by Debra K. Salonen.
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*Texas Hold ’Em
**Spotlight on Sentinel Pass
**Spotlight on Sentinel Pass
**Spotlight on Sentinel Pass
**Spotlight on Sentinel Pass
Finding Their Son Page 21