Page 85 of The Banker and the Blue Collar Man

With a hard sigh, he stayed where he was and looked away as if he were too irritated, or maybe preoccupied, to even contemplate speaking to me. Which made everything all right again. More normal.

Chatter in the room went down to its normal levels, too, and as I listened to Dalton ask how much butter was on those green beans, I could smile. I’d get him to eat more butter, and he’d change me in ways I wasn’t aware needed changing. That’s how life was. Always had been. Always would be.

We ate our lunch in as much peace as could be expected, given that we weren’t alone at the table beneath the window where the sun shone through the glass panes in large curtains of warm gold. No. Every seat was taken. If I so much as reached for a shaker, I got three offers of salt and one of pepper.

I was never so grateful to finish a meal in all my life.

Reaching for normalcy as I bused my place, I was glad to have Dalton near, glad to let him carry the conversation with the straggling well-wishers. Glad to step out of the staff building and into the sunlight.

Bathed in that warmth, I took a deep breath, then turned to Dalton, who had taken my hand in a firm grip.

“So,” he said, “saddle up, because this is just going to continue.”

“What?” I asked, feeling dense.

“Lucas is planning an engagement party.” He held tight to my hand like I was a newly broken horse who just might take it in my head to bolt. “There’s going to be music. A DJ or something.Line dancing in the barn. A bonfire. There will be spicy wings, nacho casserole, whatever desserts Ruth can whip up, and a pony keg or two. I tried to get him to include gin and tonic on tap, but he wasn’t listening to me. It’s like they think it’stheirparty!”

Once again, I could see an adorable pout on Dalton’s lips. A flush to his cheeks, because he was that worked up.

“Maybe it is their party,” I said. “Let them do what they want. Then you and I can get married exactly the waywewant. Or.” I shrugged, because really I had no idea how these things worked. “We’ll get married the wayyouwant. Anything you prefer is fine by me.”

“Oh.” He stopped pouting to contemplate that idea, his smile growing. “We can get married on a beach in Hawaii!”

“Uh.” I’d never been on a plane, never having had a reason, nor the inclination, to sit in a metal tube that was approximately thirty thousand feet above the surface of the earth.

“Or,” he said, chewing on his lower lip in such an adorable way that it made me want to kiss him—not that I needed much incentive to want to kiss him. “We could get married in moonlight. Or starlight. Or both.” The smile he gave me could have charmed even the meanest soul.

I thought about it. Images of us standing beneath that cottonwood tree came to me. Some officiant saying the words that would bind us together forever. Witnesses. Jesse. Lucas. Xander. Buddy, carrying bundles of wildflowers on his back. Petals fluttering in the wind. The smell of the river and river willows.

“What?” Dalton fairly danced in my arms. “I can see you have an idea. What is it?”

I hesitated. Surely he wouldn’t like my idea. It wasn’t sophisticated or fancy. People would have to go up that path,muddy in places, steep in others. Nobody would want to. Would they?

I told him anyway.

“Snowball will feel left out,” he said when I finished. “We should put pink flowers on her, and deep red ones on Buddy. Both horses should carry flowers, so neither feels left out.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell him that there weren’t that many wildflowers in the whole state of Colorado, but I did anyway.

“Sure, there are,” he said. “We’ll have them trucked in. Easy.”

Pay for flowers? I was dubious about that, but I nodded.

My hands were on his slender hips, and in my heart, as I kissed him, I was already standing beneath that green-leafed cottonwood tree with the sound of the river in my ears. Dalton’s love and affection as plain as day for anyone to see.

“But first, I need a hat.” He pointed to his own head. “Can we go into town?”

“I need to work?—”

“Fuck work,” he said. “Dear sweet Jake, you have the whole day off. You can go back to work tomorrow, and so can I.”

If Dalton didn’t have me wrapped around his little finger before then, he did now.

We got into Daybreak and snuck off—not very sneakily at all—to town. I had my hat on. The windows were rolled down. My new ring glittered on my finger on the steering wheel. Dalton’s smile outshone the sun. It was the best day of my life, and I did not doubt there would be many more like it.

We parked near the Mercantile, and Dalton followed me inside to where the hats were. His fingers splayed on the counter as he took in the offerings.

“You want straw, don’t you?” I said, thinking, suddenly, that this was as important as the rings. “Pick out one. Any one you like.”