I took his hand.
“Look at me.”
He did.
The fear in his face was so tender it nearly undid me.
“I don’t remember our first promise,” I said. “So I’m making one that belongs to me.”
His fingers tightened around mine.
“Reid Callahan, will you marry me?”
For one heartbeat, he did not move.
Then every restraint in him broke.
He made a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob and caught my face in both hands.
“Yes.”
The word came against my mouth.
“Yes.”
He kissed me.
I felt his tears.
Mine.
The ring trapped between our hands.
When the kiss ended, he rested his forehead against mine.
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
He pulled back.
I smiled.
“I’m sure I want to marry you. I’m not sure about dates, crowds, legal forms, or whether I can survive a ceremony without sleeping through dinner.”
Relief and laughter transformed his face.
“We do not need a date.”
“I don’t want a large wedding.”
“Good.”
“I might want Leah, the girls, Caleb, Owen, Marian, Elias, Miriam.”
“That is already large.”
“And Dr. Whitcomb so she can object to the cake.”
