She let out a shuddering sigh.
“You were right. You made the right decision.I saw her happiness,” he said with some heat, not at her but at himself. “Witnessed her having fun. I was justsoangry that I refused….” He shook his head. “If you had asked me before Jewel’s birth if I was a stubborn man—” he let out an ironic chuckle “—I would have told you absolutelynot. I’m the most amiable of men. But then came Jewel, and I became very, very stubborn.”
She lifted a hand to cup his face. “Youstillare the most amiable of men. With Jewel, you’re veryprotective. But what’s important is that when it really matters, you can change your opinion. You can apologize. Which is more than I can say for many men, including my father.”
Her touch undid him. He covered her hand with his, pressing her palm against his cheek, and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, Ivy was watching him with an expression so tender, so unguarded, that the last of his defenses crumbledlike a wall that had stood too long. “You haven’t answered my question,” he said quietly.
“You haven’t given me a chance to.” A smile trembled at the corners of her mouth.
He reached into his pocket and drew out the ring. The sunlight filtering through the young cedars played over the emerald, the small diamonds winking around it like a constellation.
Ivy’s breath caught.
“This was my Great-Aunt Ruth’s. Uncle Ned gave it to me after Jewel was born. He told me to save it for a woman worthy of the ring.” He turned the band so the light sparkled on the stone. “Ruth smelled of roses. When I first noticed your scent, found the fragrance to familiar, though I didn't understand why the memory moved me so.” He met her soft gaze. “I understand now.”
Her fingers curled against his cheek, and her eyes glistened.
“I love you, Ivy. I love you for your patience and your courage and your stubbornness, which is at least the equal of mine. I love you for how you fought for my daughter when I was too afraid to fight for her myself.” His voice roughened. “Will you marry me and be Jewel’s mama and come home?” He packed all his longing into the proposal—for the house by the lake, for the meadow and the swans, for the three of them living there together and perhaps more children in the future.
“Yes.” She answered simply, the way she did everything that mattered—without flourish, without hesitation. “Yes, I love you, Torin. I will marry you.”
His hands shook as he slid the ring onto her finger, where it fit as though made for her hand, and he sent a small prayer of thanks to Ned and Ruth in heaven.Please may we as happy in our marriage as you were.
“Well,” she breathed out the word, turning her hand to watch the emerald catch the light. “Aunt Ruth had lovely taste.”
A laugh broke from him—a real laugh, full and startled and free. He cupped her face in both hands and kissed her, gentle, almost reverent, as if he were afraid she might vanish. But when she leaned into him and placed both hands on his chest, all the weeks of longing and silence and stubborn, aching restraint poured into the press of his lips against hers.
When they finally drew apart, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright. She rested her forehead against his.
“Jewel will be beside herself,” she whispered.
“Jewel won’t be the only one.” He kissed her forehead, so grateful to have the woman he loved in his arms. “I suspect Mr. Bellaire knew exactly what he was doing, lending us this buggy.”
“I suspecteveryoneknew exactly what they were doing.” She laughed softly. “We've been thoroughlychoreographed.”
He took her hand—the one wearing his great-aunt’s ring—and pressed his lips to her knuckles. Then he tucked her arm through his and turned them back toward the little buggy and the patient Falabellas, who'd been nibbling contentedly at the grass edging the path.
As he handed her up and settled in beside her, their shoulders touching in that inevitable, welcome way, Torin looked out at the young park with its slender trees and freshly turned beds and the bones of a library rising in the distance. He thought of Mr. Bellaire imagining what this place would look like in a hundred years.
He flicked the reins, and the little horses started forward.
I don't need a hundred years. I just need tomorrow. And all the tomorrows after that, with Ivy and Jewel.
For the first time in longer than he could remember, the future didn't frighten him.
