Ava sprayed hairspray on her mom’s head, wanting to block out the real truth. Kyle lied to protect the people he loved, and Ava hadn’t been included. That wound split her open inside.
Her mom grabbed her hand. “Maybe Kyle never imagined he’d have to make a choice.”
“Well, he made one.” And like with her dad, Ava got hurt.
“Now you have a choice.” Her mom squeezed her fingers. “Do you keep running or do you fight?”
Ava tugged her hand free. “For what?”
“Love, of course,” her mom said. “Will you fight for love?”
“You make it sound exciting and romantic.” Ava smacked the hairspray on the counter.
“It is. It’s also painful, challenging and frustrating.” Her mom’s voice was too pleasant, as if she cherished the good and the bad.
“You’re going to tell me love is worth the risk.” Ava blinked, wanting to regain her focus. Fighting to understand her mom. “Even while you never fought for your marriage.”
“Your father and I wanted to be in love. We had two beautiful children to prove our love to ourselves and the world.” A tremor shifted across her mom’s mouth. Her gaze dimmed as if old hurts resurfaced. “We put on a good front for a while.”
“And then?” Ava pressed.
“It wasn’t enough to pretend anymore.” Her mom’s voice was muted as if her memories muffled her words.
“So, you just stopped?” Ava said. Was that how it worked? She could tell herself to stop loving Kyle and like a snap of her fingers the love disappeared? She snapped her fingers against her leg. Nothing changed.
Her mom touched her cheek. “We let each other go. Finally.”
“And you regretted it?” Ava asked. Her regret warred with her pain, each fighting for control.
“I regretted that I settled because I believed I wasn’t worth more.” Her mom twisted in her stool and slipped on a pair of jeweled flats. “I never regretted my children, who showed me how deep love really can run. I never regretted taking the risk.”
“What if I’m settling?” Her voice jammed in her dry throat.
“You’ve already been settling for a life alone.” Her mom held her hand out for Ava to help her stand. “Maybe it’s time to try something new.”
“What if I fail?” What if Kyle failed to love her like she loved him?
“What if it’s better than you ever imagined?” her mom countered.
“You’re telling me to try with Kyle.” Ava walked beside her mom into the bedroom.
“I’m telling you to listen to your heart.” Her mom picked up a wrap from her bed and adjusted it over her shoulders. She smiled at Ava, “But now, my stomach is telling me we need to leave and get to the gala. I plan to sample everything at the buffet stations, since I helped create the menu.”
Ava’s stomach flipped inside out. She’d skip trying the food at the buffet. As for trying with Kyle, she tightened the straps on her silver heels and loosened the chains around her broken heart.
* * *
AVA KEPT HER silver heels on to stall herself from running away and intercepted Kyle near the edge of the dance floor. She offered an apologetic smile to the woman beside him. “Kyle, I need to say something. I need to say it now.”
“Ava...” he said.
She held up her hand and dug her heels into the carpet to brace herself. It was now or never. She wouldn’t regret taking the leap. She wouldn’t regret trying. “We can add another first to our list.”
He tipped his head and studied her. The ballroom lights dimmed over the dance floor, shadowing his blue eyes. For a breath, she was certain she saw hope and need in his gaze.
“Our first fight.” Ava smiled at the surprise widening his eyes. “I’m mad you lied. We have to promise to be honest with each other or this is never going to work.”
He opened his mouth.
She stepped forward and rushed on, “I wanted to ask if we could press the reset button and start all over like two people that just met. But I can’t do that. I love you too much to pretend I don’t. I have an incredibly long list of firsts I want to do. And I want to share them all with you. I want to cross off more on the list. Here, tonight. Please tell me you want that, too.” Please don’t let me walk away.
Kyle’s chin dipped, and his gaze dropped to the floor.
Ava held her breath, trying to keep her stomach from dropping out as if she free fell. She watched his chest rise and fall. Swayed in her heels. This couldn’t be the end. Not like this.
Kyle locked his gaze on her. “I loved you when I walked inside this ballroom. I love you more now.”
Air rushed through Ava. He loved her. But his voice was too serious, his expression too intense. Love was supposed to be enough.
Kyle motioned to the woman beside him. “I was going to introduce you to Verna Neal from Simply Med-Tech and leave.”
Leave. He couldn’t walk away. Not now. That free fall continued.
“I’ve reconsidered that plan.” Kyle took both of her hands and caught her.
Ava held on until her world steadied.
“I don’t deserve you, Ava. But I’m going to show you how much I love you every single day.” He lifted their joined hands and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Starting now, if it’s okay with you.”
A chill raced over Ava’s skin from the promise in his gaze. Her mom had been right. This could be better than she’d ever imagined.
Kyle shifted and tipped his head toward the woman waiting beside them. Her soft smile eased up into her bright eyes. Kyle said, “Ava Andrews, I would like you to meet Verna Neal from Simply Med-Tech.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” Ava would’ve reached out to shake Verna’s hand, but Kyle kept her hands firmly gripped inside his, as if he worried she might run. The only place she wanted to run was into Kyle’s arms.
“It’s my pleasure. I came to offer you a contract for your Virtual Vital Buddy invention.” Verna smiled. “Instead, we’re going to deal with business matters on Monday.”
A contract. Simply Med-Tech had been one of Ava’s meetings that Barbra had arranged. Ava squeezed Kyle’s hands. Understood he held on to steady her. He held on to keep her grounded. He held on until she understood how much he loved her. How sorry he was. Ava cleared her throat. “We can talk now.”
“We could, but I’m going to browse the silent auction and catch up with my good friend Barbra.” Verna waved toward the silent auction tables and grinned. “I think this might be your chance for that first dance. Unless you two have already crossed that off your list.”
Ava’s joy burst through her. “It’s our first dance.”
“Then make a memory.” Verna nodded and walked away to join Barbra.
Kyle guided Ava onto the dance floor and pulled her into his embrace. “Did you want to bid on the silent auction?”
Ava curved her arms around Kyle and she pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’m good right here.”
After all, she’d already won the best prize.
EPILOGUE
Thanksgiving Day
Florida Keys
KYLE BURIED HIS feet in the white sand on the beach. His feet were warm, but not from the sand. He was full, but not from the Thanksgiving meal that he’d just shared with his family at the hotel. What filled Kyle was something more valuable than he’d ever known.
He took Ava’s hand, pulled her into him and kissed her. “I don’t have cold feet.”
Ava linked her arms around his neck and laughed. “I’d hope not. We’re standing on one of the most beautiful beaches in Florida at sunset.”
His kissed her again, softer, but no less significant. “I meant Barbra was wrong. I don’t have cold feet.”
He took her arms from around his neck, held on to her hands and dropped to one knee.
Ava’s g
rip tightened in his. Her gaze was glossy. He heard his name cross her lips, but the ocean breeze blew away her voice.
“I never intended to get married because I never believed I’d find my soul mate.” Kyle released her hands and reached into his pocket. “But Ava Andrews, you changed everything. You made me believe in soul mates and true love. You made me realize I don’t want to be alone. I found my home with you.”
Kyle opened the ring box. Ava grasped her hands together and pressed them against her mouth. Her smile wobbled. Tears spilled down her cheeks.
“Ava, I love you more than you could ever know. Marry me and together we can invent our own dreams.”
The ocean breeze couldn’t blow away Ava’s enthusiastic cry of yes or her declaration of how much she loved him. She lunged into his arms and together they fell onto the beach.
On the hotel veranda, Iris handed out Kleenex to her little sister and parents. She shifted the laptop screen to face her. “In case it wasn’t clear, Ava said yes.”
The cheers from their family and friends in San Francisco echoed over the video link and drifted across the beach. Love filled the air from coast to coast.
* * * * *
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A Cowboy's Christmas Proposal
by Cathy McDavid
CHAPTER ONE
HEARING WHAT SOUNDED like a hammer banging against metal, Molly O’Malley tossed the covers aside and sat bolt upright. Her sister had beaten her to the shower. Again. Now she’d be late getting downstairs—the last thing she wanted today of all days. After endless planning, preparation and backbreaking labor, Sweetheart Ranch was finally opening for business.
Molly pushed herself out of bed, excitement and nervousness replacing the fog of sleep. Grabbing her flannel robe hanging from the bedpost, she padded to the closet, every third floorboard creaking in angry protest. A single tug on the antique glass knob and the closet door glided open. Thank goodness. It just as often stuck and refused to budge.
Like the faulty water pressure in the pipes and the creaking floorboards, no amount of tinkering had remedied the finicky closet door. Molly’s grandmother, Emily, claimed the many quirks only added to the old house’s charm.
Molly did agree the house possessed a certain appeal. People raved over the quaint and rustic decor inspired by local history, nearby cattle ranches and the herd of wild mustangs that had once roamed the valley. At least, those were the comments Molly had received from guests who’d viewed their website and booked a wedding, or a honeymoon stay in one of the six cabins.
Five weddings were scheduled these last four days of November and a dozen so far in December. Understandably, the holidays were a popular time to get married. What better than to combine two joyous occasions?
Only 50 percent of the ranch’s cabins, however, had been booked. As head of guest relations, Molly worried. Grandma Em, their resident wedding coordinator, had assured her the situation was temporary. Lately, she’d issued the statement with a twinkle in her eye.
That, too, worried Molly. Grandma Em had poured almost her entire savings into the ranch, converting her country home on ten acres into what would hopefully be the most popular, and most unique, wedding venue and bed-and-breakfast in Arizona. She should be fretting and pacing and biting her nails to the quick. Or, like Molly, racing around in a constant state of agitation. She certainly shouldn’t be dismissing valid concerns with a casual shrug.
Molly contemplated the three O’Malley women as she chose an outfit. They were a study in contrast, each of them dealing with stress differently. While Molly planned for every conceivable catastrophe, her older sister, Bridget, stayed up late testing recipes and developing menus. Grandma Em, perhaps the smartest of them, took things in stride.
Both sisters had worked in the hospitality industry since graduating college—Bridget as a pastry chef and Molly in hotel administration. When their grandmother had called last summer and invited them to share in her long-held dream of owning and operating a Western-themed wedding ranch, they’d jumped at the chance—for entirely different reasons.
Hurrying down the hall, Molly stopped at the bathroom door and knocked loudly.
“You almost done?”
“Give me two minutes,” Bridget hollered above another pipe-banging symphony.
Molly groaned in frustration, more annoyed with herself for oversleeping than at her sister for dawdling. She’d stayed up late last night, too, envisioning every detail of their grand opening and mentally reviewing her lengthy to-do list.
While she waited, her glance traveled the hall to Grandma Em’s bedroom. She’d apparently risen some time ago, for the door sat ajar and not a single peep came from inside the room.
Likely, she was downstairs, making coffee and toasting homemade bagels for breakfast. Molly was straining her ears for any hint of activity when Bridget flung open the bathroom door and emerged from behind a cloud of steam.
“Thanks for hogging the entire hot water supply.”
“Get up earlier next time.”
Molly huffed as she shouldered past her sister. Being adults didn’t stop them from squabbling like they had when they were young.
“Whatever.” Bridget darted to her room, tucking in the tail of the bath towel she wore on her head like a turban. Several red tendrils had escaped and lay plastered against her neck, forming a row of inverted question marks. Molly’s own wavy hair would look the same when she stepped from the shower.
It was one of many similarities between them. They shared freckled cheeks, a cleft in their chins, a love of sweets and an unwavering determination to marry a man just like their late father.
They also had their differences. Big ones. While Bridget was an open book, messy to a fault, and tended to easily trust people, Molly kept her thoughts and feelings to herself, preferred her surroundings and every aspect of her life to be neat and tidy, and exercised caution in all situations.
She had good reason. Her twice-wounded heart needed protecting. Grandma Em’s invitation, issued on the heels of Molly’s latest breakup, had provided the perfect opportunity. She’d packed her car and bid Southern California goodbye without a single regret.
Molly showered in record time before the hot water really did run out—anoth
er quirk of the old house—then returned to her room. After throwing on her clothes, she ran a brush through her wet hair. She’d style it and apply makeup later, before the open house started at noon. There was simply too much to accomplish before then.
Of course Bridget had beaten her downstairs. Molly made straight for the kitchen, expecting to be assaulted by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and toasting bagels. Instead, Bridget stood at the counter, dropping clumps of thick, chocolatey batter onto a cookie sheet. The coffeepot sat untouched.
“Where’s Grandma?” Molly asked, mildly irritated. She desperately needed to fuel up on caffeine.
“I haven’t seen her yet.”
How odd. Maybe she was on an emergency run to the market for some last-minute item. Though, on second thought, the town’s one small grocery store didn’t open until nine.
“Did you call her?” Molly asked.
“Been too busy.”
Fishing her cell phone from her jeans pocket, she dialed Grandma Em. The call went straight to voice mail.
“She must have forgotten to charge her phone.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Bridget slid the cookie sheet into the oven.
Ignoring the twinge of anxiety winding through her, Molly set down her phone and filled the coffeepot with water. They did have a brand-new individual cup brewing system in the dining room, but that was reserved for guests.
“Do you think we were wrong to plan our grand opening in the middle of the holiday season?” she asked. “It’s still technically Thanksgiving weekend. People are going to be out shopping or putting up Christmas decorations.”
“We can’t afford to wait.”
“True.” Expenses were mounting while revenues wouldn’t pick up until after they officially opened. Molly knew that for a fact as she handled the ranch books.
It was then she spotted the small piece of notepaper taped to the refrigerator. Grandma Em’s familiar handwriting jumped out at her.
“What’s this?” With her free hand, Molly tore off the note and started reading. The next instant, her fingers went slack, and she nearly dropped the pot. “I don’t believe it!”
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