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“Tell me what?” Now I’m getting annoyed. If they redesigned the website after all the time I put in, I’m going to blow my top.

“The website keeps crashing,” Hazel says.

Okay, correction. Now, I’m going to blow my top. But Hazel stops me. “We’ve had a million hits to our videos almost overnight. And so much traffic and inquiries that the website can’t handle it.”

I press my fingers against my temples. “What videos?” I’ve only made slideshows. There shouldn’t be any videos on our socials.

Dylan pulls up the Loveland social media account and shows me the first one. It’s definitely not a slideshow.

When the Stetson tips up to show the face of the guy wearing it, I nearly fall off the cliff.

It’s Luke. Looking so damned good that my heart nearly breaks in two. I’m not sure I can handle seeing his face, and I start to rise from the bench, but Dylan holds me down.

“Just watch.”

The video pans from Luke’s face to one of Willow Springs's most incredible views. I immediately recognize it as the lake where we skipped rocks, and I suck in a breath, resigning myself to the ache that’s never leaving my chest.

A voice-over begins as Luke narrates, the scenery changing. “I never thought I was the marrying type. Give me a warm saddle on a beautiful horse, and I have everything I need. I’m happy to run free.

“But you once said that if you know it’s right, you fight for it with everything you have. You and I are too good for me to let you go without a fight.”

The video has thousands of comments, but most say something to the effect of, “If there are men like him, sign me up for a cowgirl vacation.” Or “Loveland Ranch or bust.”

I notice there are a half dozen more videos all posted in the last day or so, and I don’t stop until I’ve seen them all.

There’s that same cowboy on one knee holding an engagement ring in a box. In the background, rolling acres of farmland dotted by cows make it look like paradise.

Luke’s voice narrates this one too.

“Maybe you look at yourself and see someone who doesn’t follow through. Someone who bolts when she gets bored. Maybe that was how you used to be, but that’s not the person I see. I see someone who genuinely wants to learn about ‘ranch stuff’ and who puts in the time. Someone with so many talents that it’s probably hard to single out just one to do all the time. Someone who loves my son. Someone who may even love me.

“I also see someone who’s used to other people’s needs taking up all the space. So I get why you like to stay in motion and keep things new and fresh. But maybe that’s not the only solution.

“I thought I was doing the right thing by letting you take care of yourself and respecting your choice to leave. It took me about a minute to realize that letting you walk away was the worst decision I’ve made in my life, and I’ve made some bad decisions.

“The last thing I want is for you to lose even a shred of yourself by committing to me.”“All I know is that I’m happy when I’m with you. I can’t stop thinking about you when I’m not. Spend your life with me, darlin’, will you?”

My stomach turns over. These may seem like promotional videos for our ranch resort, but I know the truth. Luke is speaking only to me.

I don’t realize I’m laughing until I catch my sisters looking at me like I’ve lost my marbles. “What’s funny?” Hazel asks.

“This is so us.” I point at the phone. “Fake proposals, fake rings, video proposals? It’s just…kinda perfect.”

Now, instead of my heart twisting in my chest with the uncomfortable ache I’ve carried around for days, I feel something new. Hope.

He heard everything I said about myself, yet somehow he’s able to see something in me I never saw until now.

The next video shows him standing under a trellis of hanging wisteria. I know its exact location off the back of his porch. It’s where I hung up Scout’s artwork the first time I babysat, being careful not to damage any of the purple blooms.

Luke is in jeans and a short-sleeved black tee that hugs him like sin. His hair is rakishly tousled, and with the sun setting in the distance and the birds singing in the trees, it feels like the most romantic setting anyone could ask for.

“A little gift from me to you.” He holds up an envelope. “An open-ended airline ticket, destination Paris. Your insurance policy against feeling trapped if you give us a chance. Maybe just having it will feel like enough, or maybe you’ll need to use it. The point is I don’t want you to feel trapped.

“But please, darlin’. This is important. Don’t agree to anything unless you mean it. Don’t be anyone other than who you are.

“She’s the woman I love. She’s who I want.”

He looks directly at me, er, the camera.