Dylan was in the stable late the following afternoon when he heard a car motor. He walked out to see Andrew waving goodbye to his mom. “You’re not scheduled to work today.”
The teen walked slowly toward him, hands thrust in the pockets of his jeans. “I thought you might need some help with the mustangs. Emily not being here and all…”
As if Dylan needed reminding about that.
In the past twenty-two hours, all he’d done was think about her and wish things had been different. But they weren’t…and he needed to remember that.
He motioned for Andrew to follow him. “How is Emily?”
Andrew plucked the leather work gloves from his back pocket and hurried to catch up. “She’s real busy.”
Dylan had tried to stay focused on other things, too. For once, concentrating on the needs of the horses in his care did nothing to stanch the overwhelming emotions welling up inside him. He stalked into the barn and picked up a fresh bale of hay, handed another off to Andrew. “I saw a Closed sign on the café when I drove into town today.”
“She’s taking the whole week off.”
Another sign that things weren’t right with her, either, although in her case her actions could all be financially motivated. “How come?” Dylan stopped to get a pair of clippers to cut the twine.
They both carried the hay into the stable and set it down in the center aisleway. “Well, today, anyway, she’s busy meeting with the three guys her brothers brought in to talk to her. And then about five others are coming in, too.”
Dylan felt a surge of possessiveness that was no longer justifiable. Telling himself his interest was only cursory, that if she were selling shares in her business or looking for outside investors he might be interested, too, Dylan asked casually, “All at the same time?”
Andrew helped break the two bales into equal flakes. “No. One after the other. Emily’s real serious about it. She says the meetings all have to be private.”
Okay, that could mean anything….
Andrew and Dylan stuffed the hay nets with feed. “Emily says she has to concentrate on her future now more than ever—and she wants to get things taken care of as soon as possible. That’s all I know.”
Dylan weighed the nets on a spring balance, to ensure the proper level of feed for each horse. Then he and Andrew brought them to the individual stalls and secured them at eye level on the wall.
Andrew grabbed a broom to clean up any leftover bits of hay that had fallen to the floor. Dylan studied the lingering concern on the boy’s face.
“Is that the only reason you came out here?” Dylan asked as they walked out of the stable. “To tell me that?”
Andrew drifted toward the pasture fence. He looked toward the far corner, where Ginger, Salt and Pepper congregated in a corner, basking in the late-afternoon sun and the gentle spring breeze.
Andrew hooked his arms over the fence rail. He kept his gaze trained forward. “Actually, I wanted to ask you about the stuff Xavier Shillingsworth said about you being from a not-so-nice family.”
Dylan knew how difficult it was for the fifteen-year-old to let anyone know what was really on his mind. “I imagine a lot of people want to ask me about that,” he replied with as much candor as he could muster.
Andrew gulped and turned to Dylan. “Did it make you feel bad having him say all those things?” He squinted and turned his gaze to the horizon again. His hands gripped the rail in front of him. “’Cause it always makes me feel bad when people talk about my dad being arrested and being sent to jail.”
Dylan started to say the expected—that it didn’t matter what others thought and therefore he refused to let it bother him. But he knew that wasn’t true.
“It hurts,” he said finally, deciding to go outside his comfort zone and give the troubled teen the uncensored honesty he deserved. “It makes me feel I’m being blamed for something outside my control.”
Andrew shifted again and braced his body against the rail. “Does it make you mad?”
“It used to—now I just find it kind of sad and discouraging. And, of course, unfair.”
Andrew clenched his jaw. “Some parents think because my dad did bad things, and I have his blood, that I’ll do bad things. So they don’t want me being friends with their kids or asking their daughters out on dates.”
Dylan hadn’t known that was happening. He was pretty sure Simone and Emily hadn’t, either.
Andrew hastened to add, “Most of the kids are okay—they’d like to hang out with me but they’re just not allowed to. Only the kids who have parents who don’t care what their kids do—”
“Kids who are already in trouble of some sort,” Dylan interjected, guessing the rest.
Andrew nodded. “Those kids are always allowed to go places with me. No problem.”
Which explained, Dylan thought, Andrew’s entry into a bad crowd shortly after moving to Laramie. It wasn’t because he had wanted to be part of that group; he hadn’t felt he had any other options. “Did you ever tell your mom this?”
Andrew hung his head. “I didn’t see the point. She feels bad enough about the stuff my dad did, and the trouble it caused for us back in Houston. We had to pack up and start over someplace else. I didn’t want to make it worse for her. But at the same time,” Andrew continued in a rusty-sounding voice, “it can get really lonely, when you don’t have any other kids to go places with who aren’t going to get you in trouble again.”
“Yes,” Dylan said, knowing from his own experiences that was the case. “It can. But it doesn’t have to stay that way, Andrew. Now that we know what the situation is, I can vouch for you with other parents.” He put a reassuring hand on Andrew’s shoulder. “So if you need a reference, you have them call me. I’ll assure the other parents that you are a good influence for their kids.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“I gave you a community-service job on the ranch, didn’t I? I’m teaching you how to care for horses. Of course I’ll do that for you.”
Andrew grinned his relief. “I didn’t think anyone would understand. But then, I guess you know all about this kind of stuff. Because your background isn’t considered great, either. Since you were disowned at birth and several times since.” Dylan winced. Gee, when you put it like that…
Andrew’s brows drew together. “Is that why you and Emily broke up?” he blurted out, perplexed. “Because she found out that you don’t have the kind of family she does and now she doesn’t want to go out with you anymore? Are you being discriminated against, too?”
Dylan held up a staying hand. “Emily’s not like that.”
She was the kind of woman who made him believe in happily-ever-after, who made him want the fairy tale for himself.
Andrew frowned, still not getting it. “Then why did you leave the party like that last night, without saying goodbye to anyone?” he demanded.
Easy, Dylan thought. Because she’s a wonderful woman who deserves to see all her dreams come true. And those dreams included being with a man who understood how to be part of a big, happy family, a man who knew instinctively what to do and say and belong. Instead of someone who was always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Fighting the turbulent emotions, Dylan cleared his throat. He looked at Andrew, man to man. “I didn’t come back to the ranch house last night as I figured Emily had been embarrassed enough. I couldn’t see doing it to her over and over again in the future. Because all of that will come up.”
“My background will come up, too. But you’re willing to be my friend and vouch for me.”
“That’s different,” Dylan retorted.
“How?” the teen persisted.
“It’s complicated,” he said finally.
Andrew scoffed. “When adults say that it usually means they’re in love or something.”
“Or something being the operative words in this case,” Dylan said.
Had he and Emily not promised to keep it casual, to never change, to part amicably before things got convoluted and messy?
“Yeah, well,” Andrew grumbled, as the trio of mustangs saw them and started their way, “as long as we’re talking straight to each other… I gotta say, I think you humiliated Emily more by leaving the party that way, without even saying good night to anybody or anything.”
Guilt wound its way into his heart. And stayed. He’d figured he had been helping, by exiting quietly and unobtrusively, instead of staying and being the elephant in the room. “Did she say that?” he demanded, his mouth dry.
Or was this Andrew misinterpreting?
Andrew looked at Dylan as if he was an idiot. “Emily didn’t have to complain about it. My mom and I could both see she was really hurt.” Andrew stopped and shook his head. “You really ought to go to her and apologize. Try and do something to make it right.”
EMILY HAD just shut off the café coffeemaker and was getting ready to clean up, when her mother walked in. Emily knew she was concerned and that she’d show up eventually to talk to her.
“Full calendar today, hmm?” Greta started sympathetically. She opened up the bag she’d brought with her. Inside were two pints of premium ice cream—Godiva chocolate for Emily, coconut-pecan for her mother.
Emily accepted the gift with a thank you and found two spoons. “I decided to finally start tackling the café’s problems head-on. I actually got a lot of offers of help, some very interesting.”
As comfortable in a commercial kitchen as she was in her own home, Greta pulled up a stool to the central worktable. “Are there any you are going to accept?”
Emily brought two glasses of ice water over to the table. “Yes. I’ve already set up time to meet with five of them again.”
Greta smiled. “That’s great.”
Emily savored her first bite of dark-chocolate ice cream. “But that’s not why you came over to talk to me.”
“Your father and I are both concerned about Dylan.”
Pushing aside the memory of the sexy rancher, and all he had once meant to her, Emily savored another bite. Like it or not, she had to move on in this regard, too. “I can’t help you.”
Greta studied her carefully. “You’re no longer friends?”
No longer friends with temporary benefits, that was for sure, Emily thought miserably, wondering how something that had felt so right could go so wrong so fast.
“Our reasons for seeing each other are over.” Knowing she had to unburden herself to someone, she said, “I know we put on a good show from time to time, Mom, but it was all just pretend.”
A twinkle appeared in Greta’s eyes. “Really.”
Now was not the time for her mother to get overly romantic in her outlook. “Really,” she reiterated.
Greta sipped her ice water. “What about the feelings in your heart? Are those pretend, too?”
Emily flushed. “It doesn’t matter. Dylan’s right…he’s never going to be the guy I need.”
I need someone who wants me, for now, for always. Someone who is willing to negotiate and adapt, grow old with me…
“Because he’s not ethical.”
Where had her mother gotten that idea? “He’s ethical!”
Greta’s elegant eyebrows furrowed. “Not strong willed enough to take you on, then?”
Emily choked in exasperation. “Have you met the man?”
Greta savored another bite. “I guess, then, he’s lacking a tender side.”
This, Emily thought, was beginning to get annoying. “Have you forgotten he’s a horse whisperer? Honestly, Mom, Dylan is the most gentle, intuitive man I have ever met in my entire life.” He knew how to kiss her and touch her and hold her. When to talk, and when to just let her be…
Greta wrinkled her nose, thinking. “Then it’s his background.”
There was no doubt about it—most of his family life had been heartbreakingly sad. “He can’t get over the cruelness of the rejection. And to have it happen again, last night, through Xavier, in front of everyone in our family.” It had been a nightmare, and not for just him.
“It is a lot to have to accept,” Greta remarked quietly. “Especially when he is so deserving.”
Emily set down her spoon. “You know what the worst part of it was?” Her mom shook her head, listening. “The fact that I couldn’t help him and be the kind of life partner he needed when it actually happened. I wanted to help him. I wanted to do or say something to make it all better for him, but in that moment, I didn’t have a clue.”
“You stood up for him. You made the first move to send Xavier on his way.”
“That was easy, Mom. I’m a McCabe—I know how to stand up for family. But I didn’t know how to handle the rest of it or what to say to him that would have made it all okay. Instead, when put to the test, I faltered, and he…left.”
“That doesn’t mean the two of you have to break off your whatever it is you’ve been having.”
What had they been having? An affair? Or something a heck of a lot more?
“Unless you’re angry with him.”
“I’m disappointed,” Emily admitted miserably.
“Why?”
“Because I kind of feel he lumped me in with everyone else who has let him down. He didn’t give me a chance to grow and learn and do better. And be what he needs. I’m not like that. Instead, it was like, ‘well…obviously this isn’t going to work.’” Angry tears sprang to her eyes. “Like he expected that at any minute I would turn my back on him, because of his horribly callous relatives…so he called up this agreement we had made to end it at the first sign of trouble and dumped me first!”
Greta struggled to follow the logic. “So, if you had dumped him first it would have been okay?”
“No! The point is, I wouldn’t have dumped him at all!”
“Isn’t that what you’re doing now?”
Emily fell abruptly silent.
She struggled to explain how something that had started out so simply—as a reckless and ill-thought-out ruse to avoid some matchmaking—had evolved into something so passionate and meaningful—and ultimately devastating, as well. “We had an agreement—” Emily struggled not to cry “—that we wouldn’t try to change each other. The way I always tried to change the guys I dated. Dylan didn’t want to be another fixer-upper for me.
“But did that also mean we shouldn’t try on our own to change for the better?” She wondered fervently. “Because I thought that’s what people in love did! I thought just being together made them better people. And that implies change, doesn’t it?”
“Usually, unless the two people involved are absolutely perfect individuals to begin with,” her mother replied. “And personally, I can’t think of a single instance where that has happened.”
“So he is being unreasonable!” Emily crowed, more hurt and angry than ever.
Greta released a gusty breath. “Look, Emily, I know you and your brothers are all grown. And I really do try and stay out of your love lives as much as possible.”
Emily couldn’t help it—she laughed out loud. “Really?” she echoed, reacting to the audacity. “Because, several weeks ago I heard you were trying to set me up with some mystery guy that you thought would be just perfect for me.”
Greta looked chagrined they were suddenly back to that. “Your brothers told you,” she murmured, actually blushing.
Emily threw up her hands in exasperation. “They’re my sibs! Of course they warned me!” She aimed a censuring finger her mother’s way. “The only one who didn’t tell me about The Guy Who Might Be The One For Me was you. You backed off before ever uttering his name!”
Greta replaced the top on her ice cream. “There was a reason for that,” she said, rising to her feet.
“And it was?” Emily stood, too.
The self-conscious pink in her mother’s cheeks deepened. She cleared her throat as if making a grand announcement. “You were already kissing him at the time.” Greta paused to let the weight of her words sink in. “Frankly, your father and I concluded we didn’t need to do anything else to get you to give the guy a second look.”
Emily’s mouth dropped open. “You really wanted me to be with Dylan?”
Her mother was firm. “We really did.”
Wow. And Wow again. “And now?” Emily ventured at last.
Greta grabbed her purse. “Honey, that’s up to you. We’ll back you in whatever you decide.” She resacked her halffinished pint and headed for the door.
A still-reeling Emily followed close behind, aware for the first time in hours her heart held a smidgen of hope. “But…”
Her mother turned before going out the door. “Nope. No more advice,” she reiterated firmly, looking Emily straight in the eye. The air reverberated with maternal and familial love. “Because the wisdom you need—” Greta took Emily’s hand and placed it over her daughter’s heart “—is already right in here.”
EMILY TOOK her mother’s advice and spent the next week searching her soul for the answers. Her chance to put her feelings to the test came a few days after that, when she met Dylan at a private mustang preserve 130 miles from the Last Chance Ranch.
By the time she arrived, ready to witness the wild horses’ first big test, he was already there, unloading the three mustangs and his own gelding from the four-horse trailer. The youngest two were outfitted with reins and lead lines; the older two horses were saddled up.
Emily got out of the Circle M pickup truck she had borrowed from her father and walked over to join the group. In the distance, they could see the resident herd of mustangs, grazing sedately in the 100-acre preserve.
But it was the man next to her that held her heart captive.
It had only been a week and a half, yet as Emily looked into those familiar golden-brown eyes, it felt so much longer. Too long.
She swallowed, trying not to notice how handsome he looked, with his hat tugged low over his brow, a new haircut and a fresh shave. Or how good he smelled, like sandalwood and leather and soap.
“Tell me again how this is going to work,” Emily said.
His eyes were alight with kindness and another emotion she couldn’t identify. “We’re going to lead the horses a little closer, and then dismount and let the mustangs go.” He flexed his broad shoulders lazily. “See what they do, given the choice.”
“Well, of course they’re going to race off to be with the other mustangs,” Emily said in frustration. Horses were herd animals, after all. Unlike humans, they always chose to be with their kind over being alone.
He gave her a brief, officious look. “I reckon that’s so.”
Emily’s anxiety rose. “It doesn’t bother you?”
Dylan adjusted the stirrups on Ginger’s saddle. “If they’ve bonded, the way we think they have, and become part of the Last Chance Ranch family, they won’t stay away from us for very long,” he explained.
“And if they haven’t?”
Dylan offered Emily a hand up into Ginger’s saddle. As soon as she was situated, he climbed onto Hercules’s back. “Then they’ll likely never make reliable domesticated riding horses.” He frowned. “They’ll always be looking to run off, first chance they get, and they wouldn’t be suitable for the boys ranch.”
He reined in Salt and Pepper, and they headed off at an easy canter. They stopped again, atop the hill overlooking the pasture. Ginger was already prancing around in excitement. Salt and Pepper followed suit. Only Hercules, Dylan’s welltrained gelding, remained calm and almost uninterested.
Dylan climbed down and tied his horse to a tree.
Emily dismounted, too. Together, they removed Ginger’s saddle, all three mustangs’ bridles and bits and stepped away.
The moment Ginger realized she was free, she turned back, gave them one last look, then reared around and took off. Salt and Pepper followed her, both going at top speed, too.
Emily stood, boots planted firmly in the grass, arms folded in front of her, watching. Would they stay or come back? she wondered, her heart pounding.
Within her, there was so much sadness and disappointment. She knew now it was foolish, but she wished Dylan had given her the slightest sign. She’d really thought she and Dylan were going to be the ones riding off into the sunset together, that they’d spend the rest of their lives training and caring for mustangs in need of a good home.
Instead, here they were, acting as if they’d never been anything more than the most casual of friends. Acting as if their lovemaking…the long intimate talks…the joy they’d felt when together…hadn’t mattered.
Here they were, about to say a final goodbye to each other, too, as they watched the three mustangs join the herd—without a thought as to the possibilities they were leaving behind. Tears blurring her eyes, unable to stand seeing any more, she turned and began walking away.
“Emily,” Dylan rasped.
Emily could hear him behind her, gaining ground.
She rushed on, feeling as if her heart was breaking. What had made her think she could handle any of this, she wondered, as she dabbed at the moisture flooding her eyes.
She wasn’t strong enough to love and let go.
She didn’t want to forge on alone.
Yet that was the only choice she had.
“Emily!” Dylan caught her by the shoulders and spun her around to face him.
Fifty yards away, Hercules chewed grass sedately. As if all was right with the world…
“What?” Emily snapped.
Dylan looked just as impatient. “Why are you crying?”
Emily sniffed. She’d never thought Dylan insensitive—until now. “Why aren’t you?”
He seemed puzzled. “We don’t know yet what they’re going to do.”
Emily cast a look at the mustangs they’d just let go—now romping with the herd of wild horses. “I think it’s pretty clear.” They were leaving her, just as Dylan had left her.
He frowned, nowhere near ready to give up. “They’re exploring their options.”
Emily harrumphed. That sounded like a line and a half!
Dylan surprised her by saying, “Kind of like you and that long line of guys you were interviewing at the café the other day?”
Was the rough note in his voice possessiveness? Emily tensed and folded her arms in front of her. “How did you know about that?”
Dylan’s eyes darkened. “Andrew might have mentioned it.”
The silence strung out between them.
“So I guess you’re back to dating,” he said deferentially.
Emily adopted his businesslike attitude. “I’m back to saving my café. I’ve decided to respond to customer demand and expand.”
His face relaxed and he moved closer still. “The tables outside aren’t enough?”
Emily basked in his nearness. “No.” She pressed her lips together. “And as we’ve already proved, they aren’t available in inclement weather, either. I’ve applied for permits to put in an elevator and make my apartment over the shop into a second dining area and a separate party room.” She smiled in triumph. “It looks like I’m going to get it, too.”
He stroked his jaw. “So the guys…”
“Were all volunteering to help me in one way or another. Construction will start right away. I’m going to pay them in meal vouchers.”
“That’s a great idea.”
“Thanks,” she said.
He sobered, every inch of him resolute male. “Where are you going to live in the meantime?”
Finally, a problem she hadn’t had time to solve. Emily bit her lip. “I don’t know yet. Everyone in the family has offered to put me up for the duration, until I can afford another place, but…”
“Too much interference?” he guessed.
“Too many questions I don’t want to answer.” Don’t know how to answer.
He took her hand in his and squeezed it tightly. “If you’re looking for a roommate—” he looked her right in the eye “—I volunteer my place.”
THIS WAS WHAT she wanted, Emily thought. And yet… She put up a palm to keep him from coming any nearer. “I can’t go back to that, Dylan. To thinking only about the moment we’re in, never knowing what tomorrow is going to bring.” She cleared her throat. “Freedom is important, but…”
He came closer anyway, wrapping an arm about her waist. When she would have drawn away, he held fast. “You want more than that.” His voice was a sexy rumble in his chest.
Emily drew a stabilizing breath and forced herself to be completely honest. “I need more than that, Dylan. I need to belong with someone, not just for right now, but for the rest of our lives.” Trying not to notice how warm and solid and right he felt, she splayed her hands across his chest. Her voice trembled as she admitted, “I need permanence and security and family.”
“Suppose I could give you that happily-ever-after?” he propositioned huskily.
She blinked back a mist of emotion, and reminded him, “You don’t do family drama, remember?”
“I didn’t used to—until I hooked up with you.”
Ignoring the sudden wobbliness of her knees, Emily tried to figure out where this was going. “What are you talking about?” she asked, acknowledging the sudden reckless beat of her heart.
He tightened his grip on her, and said thoughtfully, “I had a talk with your dad.”
“I know. You turned down his offer to go into business together.”
“Not that conversation.” His lips curved into a sexy smile. “Another one,” he told her softly, gazing into her eyes. “I spoke to him yesterday and asked his permission.”
A shiver swept through her. Aware how close she was to breathlessly surrendering to Dylan on any terms, she drew back and regarded him sternly. “This isn’t funny.”
“It’s not supposed to be.” He continued to search her face. “It’s supposed to be romantic.” He let the words sink in, then flashed the impish grin she loved so much. “And by the way?” he explained. “Your dad said okay.” Her parents had always wanted her to be happy. “You seem surprised by that,” she noted, coming closer once again.
Sorrow mingled with joy on his handsome face. “I wasn’t sure your family would think I was good enough for you.” He swallowed, then began to relax. “Apparently, I am.”
And suddenly, Emily and Dylan were right back where they had started. With her family calling the shots—or trying to—where her love life was concerned.
Tears of exasperation blurred her vision. She knew that if she and Dylan were ever to be happy, there were a few things they had to clear up first.
She stepped back, throwing up her hands in aggravation. “What is it with me that I keep getting these half measures?”
Dylan blinked. Apparently, she thought temperamentally, this hadn’t been in his plan. “What’s half measure about me asking your father for your hand in marriage?” he demanded right back.
No longer sure who was taming who, or even who should be taming who, she retorted, “Gee, Dylan, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that I kind of like to make those types of great big life-altering decisions for myself?”
Dylan narrowed his eyes. “You want me to ask you first?”
“For heaven’s sake! Yes, I want you to ask me and not anyone else!” Emily blurted out her feelings before she could stop herself.
With a grin as wide as Texas, and a sparkle in his eyes, Dylan got down on his knees. He swept off his hat, set it against his chest and tilted his face up to hers. He was, at that moment, the epitome of masculine sexiness.
A few days ago, Emily would have happily succumbed. She would have thrust herself into his arms and kissed him wildly and let him kiss her back, and then let that lead where they both knew it would—to a hot session in bed.
Not anymore.
Not with all there was at stake.
She glared at him, waiting to see just how deep and real his commitment to her truly was. Because without that…
“Emily.” His smile broadened all the more. “Will you marry me?”
She tugged on his hands and pulled him upright so they were squaring off—cowgirl to cowboy—once again.
“Why?” she demanded, aware the wrong rationale would not only break her heart, it would destroy them forever.
But this once, Dylan let down his guard and didn’t disappoint. He wrapped his arms about her waist and regarded her with all the tenderness and affection she had always wished for.
“Because I love you, Emily,” he said softly, looking deep into her eyes, with a tenderness that took her breath away.
“I love you the way I never thought I could love anyone. The way I’ll never love anyone again.” His voice caught. He forged on, the words coming from deep in his soul. “And because you’re a part of my heart now, and I’ll never be happy without you.”
Emily’s lower lip trembled. “I’ll never be happy without you, either. And I love you, too, Dylan, so very much.”
Relieved to finally be able to admit what was in her heart, Emily went up on tiptoe and kissed Dylan with every bit of the passion and love she felt. She kissed him until the moment became real, the romantic aura around them stunning in its power and intensity. And then she kissed him some more and let him kiss her back. Knowing what had started out as a temporary liaison wasn’t temporary at all.
Finally, Dylan unlocked their lips and drew back just far enough to ask, “So…about my proposal?”
Emily cuddled close, still free-thinking and independent enough to insist, “It’s yes to the roommate, no to the marriage.”
He arched his eyebrow.
Practically, she explained, “I want us to live together first.”
It was Dylan’s turn to be wary. “That’s not very traditional.”
“So?”
“Your family isn’t going to like that,” he warned.
“It’s not my family’s decision—it’s ours. And I want us to work things out in our own time and our own way, without anyone in my family pushing us to the altar.” She met his eyes. “So what do you say? You…me…and the freedom to pursue everything and anything we’ve ever wanted?”
Emily felt a whisper of breath behind her. A very hot, gusty breath.
She turned, came face-to-face with a stealthily moving Ginger. Salt and Pepper were coming up right beside the mare.
Joy flowed through her as Ginger hooked her face over Emily’s shoulder, in the equine version of a horse-to-human hug, then reached over and affectionately nosed Dylan’s face and shoulder, too.
Emily laughed. “Well, what do you know, cowboy. I think our family’s back.”
Dylan chuckled, too. “And just in time,” he stated, his eyes twinkling with happiness. “Because my answer to your proposal is yes!”