She nods once against my forehead.
"But before I go into it, I need you to know somethin' that's been true since the night I stood on your porch in the dark watchin' your cabin and decided I was gonna have you."
My voice goes rough on the last sentence and I don't try to make it not.
"I'm yours, baby. Been yours longer than I knew I was."
She makes a small sound at the back of her throat.
Not a word. Just the sound a woman makes when she's holding back the thing she's about to do.
"I want to come home to you when this is done. I want Nash to call me Dad one day. I want to fill this cabin up with kids and dogs and the kind of noise that's been in this house since you all have been staying with me. I want to wake up next to you every mornin' until one of us is too old to make it through the night."
Her eyes are wet now. Both her hands are on my chest.
I step back just enough to get my hand into my pocket. The button on the pocket flap catches once and I work it open with my thumb.
The ring is warm when it comes out.
I go down on one knee on the kitchen floor in front of her.
I hold the ring up between us. The diamond catches the morning light and the green stones flank it like my mother said they would on the right woman's hand.
"This was my mother's. She wore it for thirty-two years. She gave it to me the week before she died and told me to put it on a woman who deserved it. She told me I'd know when it happened, even if she wasn't here to see it."
My voice goes tight. "I know, Hadley. I know now."
She makes a sound that's half a sob and half a laugh.
"Marry me, baby. Be my wife. Carry my name. Let me carry yours."
She doesn't make me wait. "Yes." She nods through it. "Yes. Silas, yes."
I slide the ring onto her finger.
It fits perfectly—my mother was right, the woman who deserved this ring was going to have hands the right size for it.
The gold band settles against her skin like it has been waiting there for years to find its place.
I stand up.
I pull her against my chest hard.
She comes up onto her toes and gets her arms around my neck and presses her face against my throat.
The sob comes out of her muffled into my t-shirt.
I put my hand against the back of her head and hold her there.
My own face is in her hair so she can't see it.
She knows anyway.
Her arms tighten around my neck.
We stand in the middle of the kitchen with the eggs and our coffee going cold.
* * *
