Change of Hart (Wells Ranch, #3)(115)
A black velvet box I haven’t seen since that night in her dorm room.
“You kept it….” I stroke her milky-white upper thigh, waiting with bated breath for her to explain herself.
“Of course I did. Not just because it was your mom’s, either. Part of me hoped I’d have the chance to give it back to you one day.”
My fingers stop, and I stare at her with my heart pounding in my ears. Maybe this was all in my head, and I was chasing the same dream I had as a kid. Back when I tried to coerce her into marrying me and having my baby, all in a futile attempt at piecing together a family to replace what I’d lost. Without realizing it, that’s what I just did again with this fucking house. I put her in a place where she felt pressured to tell me what I wanted to hear.
Noticing my spiraling, she slides a hand along my jaw, bringing me back to her.
“Hey, I don’t mean it that way. I mean…will you take this ring so you can give it back to me?” She slips the box into my open palm. “Denver, I want to know if you’ll marry me.”
Everything in my body turns to Jell-O—brain included. My unsteady fingers fumble frantically with the box, desperate to pry it open and give her back the ring before she changes her mind. I lift myself up so I’m on one knee, determined to do it right and make my proposal stick this time.
But she laughs, pulling me back down to sit in front of her. “It’s weird for you to be hovering above me.”
“Baby, I’m trying to give you the proposal you deserve.”
“So quit leaving me hanging—tell me you’ll marry me.”
“Bear, I’ve wanted to marry you since I was sixteen.” I pull the delicate gold band out, and the small diamond sparkles light beams across the empty wall. It slips onto her finger with ease, and she smiles up at me with tears dotting her lower lashes.
“And I promised you I would one day.”
Blair kisses me, melting her body into the cradle of my arms. The years of feeling broken and lost disappear with the soft touch of her lips. It’s always been us. In any lifetime, any universe. We were meant to end up here.
Blair
(two months later)
Denver walks around the side of the barn leading two horses, with the autumn sun on his back and a breeze toying with the hem of his shirt.
“Are you sure it’s safe to do this with your ankle?”
I roll my eyes with a smile. I have to admit, it’s nice having someone who worries about me. “Who’s the medical professional between us? Yes. I ditched the walking boot a full week ago. I’m fine.”
Stopping to tighten a cinch, he takes a quick glance at me over the top of the saddle. “Next question—are you sure you don’t want to drive? I don’t know if I trust you on horseback.”
“I’m great at riding, for your information.”
“Oh, I know that.” He winks at me as he hands me the reins. “You’re excellent at riding…if we’re talking about something other than horses.”
“I’m great at both. Some might even say a natural, thank you very much.”
He watches intently as I mount the horse—as if he expects he’ll need to launch in my direction to catch me at any moment. And since my ankle doesn’t immediately shatter when I put weight on it to swing my other foot over, he exhales and sinks down into his own saddle.
Adjusting the dress bunched up around my hips and thighs, I smile at him. “Ready?”
“Whenever you are, Bear.”
Our horses side by side, Denver and I link fingers as often as we can. Brief touches when our horses converge and diverge repeatedly, hooves sinking into the dry dirt and rattling over rocks. And each time, we share a look. Locked eyes reflecting all the emotion and heartache that’s led to where we are now. None of it matters anymore, because I have him and he has me. Neither of us are going anywhere.
The trees lining the top hayfields are quickly losing their amber and goldenrod leaves with every passing gust. Like a rolling fire tumbling along the yellowed field, they blow ahead of us. It’s absolutely stunning—the perfect day in every possible way.
We stop to take in the scenery, when Denver sidles up next to me and leans in. I think he’s going for a kiss, but instead he removes the shiny floral clip I had keeping my hair in the pretty updo Cass spent twenty minutes on this morning.
“Hey!” I swat at him.
“Thought you’d want to feel the wind in your hair while we race across this field. You ride best with your hair down.”
“So I’ve been told.” I smirk at Denver, giving the gelding under me a little kick. “Last one there has to assemble the dresser I just ordered.”
“You’ve always been a cheater,” he shouts after me.
I give it all I’ve got, and so does the horse, tearing across the open field. A cool breeze flows down my back, and my dress billows around my legs.
“You think I’d give you a horse with a lot of giddy-up in him?” Denver cackles, quickly catching up. “You’re not winning this one, Hart.”
“That’s Wells to you now, mister.” I turn to smirk at him, my hair whipping around my face. He’s right—I needed to feel the wind in my hair again.
I win by the skin of my teeth, and Denver refuses to admit it. Grumbling his disagreement, he dismounts and ties our horses to a tree, then helps me down.