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“Miles…” His name came out in whisper.
“I can buy more land. Rich and I can start over. We’ve been down on our luck worse than this before, and we survived. We can do it again.”
“That farm has been in your family for generations, Miles.”
“Not my family. Rich and Lana’s.”
Shaking my head, I walked over and sat down next to him. “Did he sign anything that said he’d take the offer?”
Miles shrugged. “I’m not sure. Dalton said Peter came back with this offer in writing.”
Smiling, I took Miles hand and pulled him up. “We need to get back to Hunt.”
“Why?” Miles asked.
Glancing over my shoulder, I replied, “Because we have a wedding to plan and only eleven days to plan it.”
My father and mother sat across from me and Miles, stunned looks on their faces.
“Married? In eleven days?” my mother asked as she looked between me and Miles.
“And you’re not pregnant?” Daddy asked.
“No, Daddy, I’m not pregnant. It’s exactly how we told it. “I’m not willing to let Miles walk away from something he and his family have worked so hard to make successful simply because Peter wants to be a vindictive ass.” My parents had to understand the reasons why I couldn’t let him do this. He’d already sacrificed so much for me and his family and I wouldn’t budge on this.
“Marriage is such a big move, Kynslee,” my mother said.
I reached for Miles’s hand. “I know, Mom. And I know we said we were going to take things slow, but I need to do this for Miles, even though he is against it, just like y’all.”
Miles nodded. “I think I can find another way, I just need to find it quickly.”
My father looked at Miles. “Do you love my daughter?”
With a smile as big as the sun, Miles answered him. “Yes, sir. I love her very much. I have for as long as I can remember.”
Daddy faced me. “Do you love Miles?”
“Yes. Very much so.”
My father and mother exchanged looks, then faced us. “Then we have a wedding to plan.”
I jumped up and hugged them both.
“Wait, I still think—”
“Do you not want to marry my daughter?” Daddy asked Miles.
“Yes! I mean, I’ll marry her right here, even with the damn rooster as my best man.”
Placing his hand on Miles’s shoulder, my father said, “Then you have our blessings. Now, I have no earthly idea what Rowdy has to do with this, but I’m pretty sure Rich will stand in as your best man.”
I smiled as I fought back tears. I was getting married. Holy shit.
“I need to call Heather and Patty. I don’t even know where to start,” I said.
“Well, for starters, where do the two of you want to get married?”
Miles and I exchanged a look. “I know where I want the wedding to be,” he said with a wink.
“The barn?” I asked with a chuckle.
“The barn.”
“Well, I’m glad we had it remodeled,” Daddy said, clapping his hands. “Let’s get the planning going.”
“There’s one more thing I need to do,” Miles said. We all turned and looked at him. He dropped down onto one knee and pulled the same worn-out, blue velvet pouch out of his pocket. I gasped when he took the ring out.
“Kynslee, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife? I truly love you with all my heart and want nothing more than to be your husband. To be yours forever.”
Tears streamed down my face as I held out my shaking hand for Miles to put the ring on.
“Yes,” I said, my voice barely audible through my sobs.
Miles slipped on the ring and stood, wrapping his arms around my waist to hug me.
“I’ve been carrying that ring around with me for four years. I was so afraid I was going to lose it.”
I buried my face into his neck and laughed.
I loved this man more than life itself, and there was nothing I wouldn’t do for him.
Miles
TEN DAYS UNTIL the wedding.
I sat in the lawyer’s office, Dalton on one side, my mother on the other. Across from me sat my dick ass father, or as I now lovingly called him, Peter, the pecker head eater. Childish, I know, but I didn’t give two shits. This man was trying to fuck with my family and the woman I loved.
The judge sat at the other end of the table, clearly not happy we had interrupted whatever he had planned.
He looked over the paperwork, sighed a number of times as he read countless statements from local folks that my father had left when I was a sophomore in high school. He looked over my mother’s bank account, the deposits made by me, the checks I had written as payments on the mortgage. He looked at it all. The entire time, Peter sat there, glaring at me and my mother.
