“To remind you that I love you.”
She shifted, a fresh, hot flood of tears blurring her vision while she still held out her closed fist with the ring inside, waiting for him to take it. Finally, he opened his palm under hers and although she was careful, his fingers brushed over her wrist, her pulse jumping. Stupid, he doesn’t want you. He wants the ranch.
“Can I sign off? Let you take the ranch without any of the crazy stipulations Jack concocted?” And erase the last month, if she could.
“Would that mean we could move forward together without any of this hanging over our heads?” His tone told her he already knew the answer, he was just trying to make her see herself as unreasonable.
“No.”
“Suit yourself,” Lane sighed, wiping a hand over his face. This wasn’t the same hurt, hot-headed 22 year old she’d turned down before, but it was definitely a hurt Lane.
“I’ll go see Larry Morgan in the morning. Goodbye, Lane.”
—FIFTEEN—
Lane was irritated as hell. He’d hardly gotten a wink of sleep, the day was already scorching hot, and he had to see his lawyer. The nightmares had come back full force and even Kit was hard pressed to wake him before he got to the worst parts. Sometimes he tried to avoid sleep altogether, but it always found him. Probably something with the fresh air and the little bit of ranch work he was doing catching up with him. That, and the six pack he finished every night in an attempt to push off the dreams.
He guided his truck through town, mentally preparing himself for the meeting with Morgan. Miranda had mentioned turning the ranch over to him, but he hadn’t heard anything yet, and he’d decided he wasn’t about to do that anyway. Not with her so close. And he wouldn’t ask her to give up her family home so he could be comfortable on Lone Oak, either. If he stayed, they’d both be miserable. This wasn’t the end result his grandfather had imagined—that much he was sure of. The old coot had been so confident he’d get his way from beyond the grave; it seemed he hadn’t thought about the alternatives.
Morgan’s only other client that morning had canceled, his receptionist told Lane, so he was fast tracked into the inner office. He was beginning to understand why people hated lawyers, and this one had only been a mouthpiece of his granddad’s last wishes. Though he was almost too agitated to sit down, he did, bouncing his knees anxiously. He couldn’t wait to get out of here and out of Three Rivers.
“What can I do for you, Lane?”
“I think you know.”
The lawyer blinked at him.
“I’d like to relinquish any claim of ownership to Lone Oak.”
Raising a brow, Larry Morgan shifted in his chair, pulling a couple of papers out of desk drawer.
“You can’t do that.”
“I can do whatever the hell I want.”
“Ms. Davenport was already in to see me, requesting to do the same thing.”
He pressed his lips together. “Of course she was.”
“Which makes you the sole, legal owner. And you can’t just abandon a property.”
Lane’s agitation grew with each second.
“Well, I don’t want it. Sell it. Burn it. Hell, bury it.”
Larry let a breath out of his nose and shifted, leaning forward with his elbows on the desk, almost the same way he had when he’d showed the three documents to Lane the first time he’d come in.
“Lane, I’m speaking to you not as your lawyer, but as a friend of your grandfather. I think you know, and I know for sure that this isn’t how he intended for this to happen when he set it up.”
A terse laugh shot out of Lane before he could stop it.
“I sure as hell would like to know what he did intend to happen when he tried to matchmake two people who couldn’t get their shit together ten years ago, and then add the pressure of the family ranch being on the line.”
“Listen, Jack came from a simpler time. When two people who love each other just did that. And didn’t let all the…pardon the expression, bullshit, get in the way. Everybody in town knows you and Miranda Davenport are supposed to be together.”
“Except Miranda and I, apparently,” Lane shook his head. Was it really that simple? Two people who loved each other just loving each other? Could life ever be just that simple? Maybe…if he removed all the complications. He knew how to do that—it was as simple as assimilating into the SEAL life had been. Cut the excess, focus on what’s directly in front of you. Miranda.
“I think the both of you do know that, deep down.” Morgan finally sat back in his chair. “Listen, Lane, if you want to sell the ranch, legally speaking, there’s nothing I can do to stop you. But I’d suggest you give yourself some time to cool down, consider your options, and then decide how to proceed. Based on what Ms. Davenport said when she was here, you need some time to process.”
Maybe he did, but he’d probably never say that much out loud. He had messed everything up by being untruthful from the beginning, but had it really been about wanting to keep the ranch? Did it mean more than Miranda herself did?
“So you won’t let me sign the papers to sell today?”
“I’d need a week to draw up the paperwork, so no, you can’t sign today. But why don’t we schedule you in for this same time next week and go from there? If you still feel the need to sell, I’ll start the process for you without complaint.”
It wasn’t ideal, but it would do. Lane got up from his seat, extending a hand to the lawyer. He might have come in here as pissed as he’d been the first time he’d left this office, but he was coming around.
“Thank you, Larry. I appreciate your time.”
—SIXTEEN—
Miranda was deep into a bowl of Rocky Road ice cream and some bad reality show about a famous family when an urgent knock sounded at the door. Because she wasn’t expecting anyone, she frowned, and then waited. Maybe whoever it was would go away. She was just starting to get her brain right after the blowout with Lane. If this had been a normal week, she’d have a kid to cart to riding lessons or something else that would distract her, but all she had for company was herself. She’d even contemplated going out to find a puppy to adopt, just to have a friend in the house. The knocker knocked again and with a big sigh, she unfolded herself from the couch and set her ice cream on the coffee table.
Maybe it was Myrna with an emergency placement—though she usually called ahead. Pulling the door open, Miranda prepared her ‘No, I’m Not Interested In Buying’ spiel only to find Lane on the other side of the door. It took everything she had not to shut the door in his face. She’d done everything she was supposed to—she’d gone to Larry Morgan’s office and relinquished any claim of ownership to Lone Oak—ownership that had really only been in her grasp for a day—and for now, she was giving her brain a break from trying to figure out how she was going to live with Lane Sutton, her twice-failed lover, living right around the corner.
Her resolve wavered, and she stepped back to close the door but Lane put his hand out, stopping her.
“Wait.”
“Lane…haven’t we hurt each other enough for one lifetime?”
“No.”
Miranda raised her brows, incredulous.
“Is that what you came here for? To argue that we should keep cutting one another until there’s nothing left?”
“No.” He shifted, and even though her heart had given up on the idea of Lane Sutton, her body responded to the subtle movement of muscles under his tight t-shirt, the casual way he moved. She knew what that felt like under her hands, and that was going to be a hard sensation to forget. Maybe she could turn her heart off, but her body wasn’t so willing. Living next door to him would be tough. “I came here to tell you I’m selling Lone Oak, Miranda.”
Her heart caught in her throat. That hadn’t been her motive this whole time. While she may have wanted Lone Oak for her own, and it had near broken her heart to know it was within her grasp, she had always known in her heart that the ranch belonged to Lane. More than
anyone else.
“Lane, you can’t.”
“I can, and I will. Because I want a future with you in it, Miranda, and what Granddad did made that ranch a point of contention between us.”
“There isn’t an us anymore, Lane.”
“I’m willing to do whatever it takes to ensure there is. And I think stripping down all the extras that complicate our lives is a good place to start. I can’t promise I won’t hurt you again, Miranda. But I can promise I’ll do my best to quit making stupid mistakes. And that starts with this.”
Before she knew what he was doing, Lane had dropped to one knee on her doorstep. Miranda’s heart went down just as quickly as he did. From his pocket, he pulled a velvet box. No, no, no, no.
“Lane, no—”
“Wait,” he repeated, opening the box to show her a ring that wasn’t what she expected. Instead of the ring she’d worn for the last couple of weeks, a white gold band with a princess cut diamond nestled in the silk interior of the box. “We had a great time together when we were kids. But we’re different people now than we were then. Just as compatible. My mistake was thinking this was a rekindling of something old, when this is something completely new. With some history, but still new. And it deserves something new, something fresh.
“I loved the girl that you were ten years ago, Miranda. But I also love the woman you’ve become. It didn’t take me long to see you’re so much more than the girl I knew. Amazing, with a beautiful, kind heart. A heart I hope still has some room in it for me.”
Miranda swallowed, drawing a quick breath through her nose. Her heartbeat whooshed in her ears. There was nothing at stake now except their hearts. And hers was hurting badly without him.
“So say you’ll be my wife. Someday. No time limits, no silly will, nothing at stake but us. We’ll start fresh somewhere else, and you’ll have your camp—here in Three Rivers if you want, or somewhere else, but not at Lone Oak. All I know is that wherever I am, I want to be there with you.”
She could scarcely believe he would be willing to give the ranch up just to be with her, but here he was, down on his knee, watching her expectantly for some sign of life.
Maybe turning her heart off wasn’t that easy, after all. If Lane was willing to give up Lone Oak just to be with her that had to mean something. Maybe she wasn’t as broken as she thought. Maybe she had something worth salvaging. There was just one more thing.
“I can’t have your babies,” she reminded him.
Lane shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t make me love you any less.”
She pressed her lips together. He’d say that now, but would things change in a few years?
“You’ve got lots of kids like Tessa to help. And all those camp kids. And maybe we’ll adopt or maybe we won’t. It doesn’t matter to me, ‘Randa, as long as I have you.”
Miranda smiled, letting out a long breath and then drawing it back in. She reached out to touch Lane’s jaw, and drew him back up to his feet. There was an earnest sincerity in his eyes she couldn’t have replicated if she’d tried. He was telling the truth. He wanted every part of her—even the broken ones—and she could take a chance on that.
“Then yes. Yes, I’ll be your wife.”
—EPILOGUE—
“You’ve sure done a good job,” Finn Baylor said, tucking his gloves in his back pocket.
Miranda smiled, surveying the new buildings that had populated Lone Oak over the last few months, from the porch of Lane’s cabin. After the courthouse wedding, things had gone quickly—getting the camp set up was Lane’s top priority. They were still a long ways away, but Finn had just delivered four Quarter Horse mares; old hands with good brains, the foundation of their therapy program, he’d promised, along with a vow to be beside them every step of the way into this adventure. It probably had everything to do with Tessa and Lily, but she was grateful nonetheless. Neither she nor Lane had the breadth of knowledge when it came to horses Finn had.
“Well, it’s a work in progress.”
But the warm feeling of pride that blossomed in her chest as she thought about the fact they’d eventually open their doors to more children like Tessa helped her forget about the magnitude of the work that remained to be done before they could open. She was finally going to get her dream—a place for forgotten children to feel safe and welcome, to build confidence and life skills—and she got to do it with Lane by her side, a dream she’d long ago abandoned.
“Well if you need anything, just holler,” Finn said, climbing into his truck.
Miranda lifted her hand to wave goodbye and watched him go, only to see Kit cutting through the dust as she bounded toward the house. While she still begrudged giving up the girlfriend seat, the dog had warmed to Miranda’s constant presence in the house immensely. She leaped up the stairs and ran into Miranda’s legs, nearly knocking her off balance. Laughing, Miranda bent to rub Kit’s ears, looking up when she heard a wolf whistle cut across the yard.
Watching Lane’s long-legged stride as he approached still took Miranda’s breath away. She’d loved him once before but that was different, paling in comparison to what she felt for him now. That mature, different Lane he’d become was better in so many ways—ways she might not have gotten to witness if they hadn’t parted when they did.
“Come here, wife,” Lane growled low, coming up the stairs two at a time. The words ‘husband’ and ‘wife’ were nearly a half year old at this point, but they still felt foreign and exciting. He swept her into his arms and dipped her back. Shrieking with laughter, she grasped his shoulders to balance herself, with his face hovering just inches away from hers. She took a second to drink him in; the laugh lines, the eyes that seemed somehow less troubled than they’d been when he first rolled into town, and the little bit of scruff on his jaw—a testament, she thought, to the fact that he was embracing this new life here, with her.
“I love you,” she said, just barely above a whisper. And her heart tightened, that warmth of pride she’d felt earlier growing blossoming into something stronger. For the last ten years, it had felt like her life was at a standstill and they’d seen more action and change in the last few months than she could recall in the last few years. Things she’d never imagined would be possible were blossoming into fruition in front of her very eyes.
Lane covered her mouth with a kiss so tender and gentle it took her breath away, and then helped her straighten, sliding his hand along her abdomen until it came to rest on the bump that was just barely beginning to protrude. He couldn’t feel anything yet—she was just beginning to experience the tiny bubbling of movement she still wasn’t sure half the time was actually a baby—but he touched and spoke to her stomach so often, Miranda sometimes thought Lane believed she was pregnant more than she did. Every day, she had to convince herself it wasn’t her imagination, but at every doctor’s appointment, they heard a strong, steady heartbeat and Doctor Fields assured them everything was fine. Better than fine, even.
“I love you,” he said, then bent, pressing his lips just above her belly button. “And you, too, little Jack.”
“Or Jackie,” Miranda reminded him, cupping her own hand over her stomach just in time for their little jellybean to do a kickflip. She chuckled. “I think they like their name, whatever they are.”
Lane laughed, turning to open the screen door of the cabin. They’d talked about building a bigger home but it was going to end just being an expansion because neither of them could bring themselves to move out of the home Jack had picked for them. And all of it, including the camp buildings, were made possible by the money the lawyer had surprised them with after their nuptials. Everything Jack had made when he sold off all his stock had been carefully invested, and set aside for their life after marriage; he had been that sure about his plan.
“A miracle, that’s what they are. Just like their mother. Just like us.”
—END—
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HEARTS OF THREE RIVERS
THE BAYLORS
Runaway Heart (Dane & Ren)
Homecoming Heart (Noah & Emma)
Secondhand Heart (Finn & Lily)
THE MONTGOMERYS
Secret Heart (Nate & Layla)
Lawful Heart (Banks & Norah)
Guarded Heart (COMING 2019)
HEARTS OF HEROES
A Cowboy SEAL’s Bride (Lane & Miranda)
—ABOUT AMITY—
I live in New Brunswick, Canada, on a multi-generational hobby farm with my parents, my husband, and my young son, as well as a flock of sheep, a herd of goats, too many herding dogs, several barn cats, and my three horses.
I've loved telling stories my whole life and could even be found telling them into a tape recorder in my grandmother's basement before I could write them. They always included kissing!
I strive to write real, sincere characters that exemplify the small-town sense of community and family I grew up in.
I am deeply inspired by the magic of Peter S. Beagle's writings (The Last Unicorn changed my life) and had the privilege of meeting him in May 2014. He was impossibly charming and delightful and left a lasting impression on me.
I love critters, cowboys, and coffee (the order of which depends on the day you ask me), and I still believe in unicorns. I hope you enjoy my books!
You can visit my site @ amitylassiter.com.
xoxo,
Amity
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