Now they meant something different.
Not validation.
Love.
Rose reached for her hand.
“Thank you.”
Victoria squeezed it.
Then smirked.
“If he doesn’t propose, I’m shooting him.”
“You already shot Father.”
“I have experience.”
Rose laughed.
Ethan waited at Bell Meadow.
The old cabin had been repaired.
Wildflowers covered the field.
Rose walked toward him beneath the sunset.
He stared.
“What?”
she asked.
Ethan shook his head.
“Nothing.”
Rose smiled.
“You said that the first time.”
“I was lying then too.”
He took her hand.
They walked toward the creek.
A small table stood beneath a cottonwood.
On it sat a familiar object.
The cedar box.
Rose stopped.
“Ethan.”
“I found it after the sheriff searched Father’s old warehouse.”
“You kept it?”
“Had it repaired.”
He opened it.
Inside lay Eliza’s wedding ring.
Rose touched it.
“My mother’s.”
“Yes.”
Ethan lifted the ring.
Rose’s breath caught.
But he didn’t kneel.
Instead, he placed the ring in her palm.
“This belongs to you.”
Rose looked confused.
Then Ethan reached into his pocket.
He removed another ring.
Plain gold.
No diamond.
No ornament.
Simple.
Strong.
He knelt.
Rose covered her mouth.
“Rose Whitmore, this isn’t payment for land. It isn’t a business arrangement. It isn’t because the town expects it.”
Her eyes filled.
“I loved you when I thought you owned nothing.”
Rose laughed through tears.
Ethan continued.
“I loved you when I thought you might be my sister.”
“Please never include that in the wedding vows.”
He laughed.
“Agreed.”
Then his expression softened.
“I loved you when you stood in mud beside a frightened horse because its pain mattered more to you than your dress.”
Rose’s tears fell.
“I loved you when you faced armed men because you refused to abandon your home.”
He held up the ring.
“And I love you now, when you own more land than I do and regularly remind me that my bookkeeping is terrible.”
“It is terrible.”
“Rose.”
“Yes?”
“Will you marry me?”
She stared at him for a long moment.
Then she whispered:
“No.”
Ethan froze.
Rose smiled.
“I won’t marry you.”
His face collapsed.
“Unless—”
He narrowed his eyes.
“That’s cruel.”
“Unless you agree to one condition.”
“Anything.”
“Don’t say anything until you hear it.”
“Fine.”
Rose took his face between her hands.
“When we marry, Carter Ranch doesn’t become mine.”
Ethan frowned.
“And Whitmore land doesn’t become yours.”
“Rose—”
“We build something together.”
She looked toward the valley.
“Something that belongs equally to both of us.”
Ethan smiled.
“That’s your condition?”
“Yes.”
“Then yes.”
Rose laughed.
“And yes.”
He stood.
“Yes?”
“Yes.”
Ethan kissed her.
For once, Rose Whitmore did not care who was watching.
Which was fortunate.
Because Victoria, Sheriff Nolan, Mrs. Whitmore, half the ranch hands, and approximately thirty people from Red Hollow were hiding badly behind the tree line.
Victoria screamed first.
Everyone else followed.
Rose pulled away.
She stared at Ethan.
“You invited them?”
“No.”
Victoria shouted from the trees.
“I DID!”
Rose closed her eyes.
“I’m going to kill her.”
Ethan kissed her forehead.
“After the wedding.”
They married the following October.
Not in the Whitmore mansion.
Not in the Red Hollow church.
They married at Bell Meadow beside the restored cabin where Eliza Bell had once lived.
