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I realized that the warmth I felt wasn’t just from her. It emanated from the busy kitchen, from the laughter and sardonicism and even the air in this room, filled with these people. I sat quietly and enjoyed the feeling, marking every moment as best I could, in case I didn’t get more of them. Why I wouldn’t, I didn’t know. But I didn’t get to keep all the things I loved, especially not things so good as Daisy. So I vowed to soak up what I had while I had it, enjoying moments that made me feel like this, that foreign, weightless freedom of not carrying a burden alone. Here, I didn’t have to make sure everyone else was cared for. When Daisy was by my side, the yoke lightened, and I could be something I hadn’t been in a long time.

I could be me. I didn’t need to be any more than that.

Dinner was a rowdy affair, thick with revelry. Dottie mothered us and doted on Sophie, my brothers and the Blums ribbing each other like siblings. We ate until we were stuffed, then ate some more when the massive slab of chocolate cake found its way to the table. By the end of the night, Sophie was half asleep in Cole’s lap, and the lot of us were full and happy, satisfied heart and soul.

The night was crisp, but we were warm under blankets on the front porch, listening to the crickets and telling stories. But it had gotten late, so Cole scooped up Sophie and stood.

“I’d better get this one in bed.”

“I’m not tired,” she said in such a way that no one believed.

We said our goodbyes, and Cole carried Sophie to the truck with my brothers in tow, the lot of them heading out with the rest of us waving from the porch. Before the Blum crew sat back down, they took a look at Daisy and I on the big porch swing. Poppy made a show out of yawning, Dottie gathered up empty drinks before Grant took from her, and Jo shooed everyone into the house, leaving us alone.

For a little while, we sat contentedly, listening to the sounds of the woods as I rocked us gently. Life, for once, felt easy, and it wasn’t just tonight. Every day I woke up happy, slipping through my day without resistance. I wanted this life, wanted it with every cell in my body. I wanted her.

I wondered if I could have her.

I wondered if I could keep her.

She was tucked into my side, her feet pulled up next to her on the bench, but I wanted her in my arms. I shifted, guided her to lay cradled in my arms so I could see her face in the moonlight. My big, clumsy fingers stroked her cheek, thumbed her lip.

“Keaton,” she said softly. I didn’t know if it was a question or a call. Or perhaps she only wanted to hear my name, wanted to feel the shape of it in her mouth.

I didn’t answer, not with words. I held her face with one hand and kissed her with a tender desire I only felt for her.

And I prayed to God I wouldn’t lose her.

20

SLAYER OF DRAGONS

KEATON

The lights in the dance hall were low, the music slow, Daisy Blum was in my arms, right where I wanted her to be.

Everything was right in the world.

Our bodies were flush as we circled the dance floor, her head tucked under my chin and her hand warm in mine. It was Daisy’s first break from playing with her family, and I’d taken full advantage, grabbing her by the waist before anybody could stop us. Which they would—the town was entirely too invested in our love life after so many years of pity. Our happy union had given us the Lindenbach equivalent of celebrity status. If our town had a gossip magazine, we’d be on the cover for two straight weeks

Every time we were in public together, be it the grocery store or at the one stoplight in town, we were greeted with smiles and waves and congratulations. Claps on the shoulders when I was within reach and kisses on Daisy’s cheek from ladies in town. You’d think royalty had wed for all the attention we got. Attention I would have been loath to endure, if not for Daisy. Truth was, I wanted everybody to see me with her, know me with her.

Of course, not everybody was thrilled. The Jenkins twins, for instance, were absolutely crushed for five minutes before deciding to pour all their efforts into Poppy. The mayor’s wife, my former mother-in-law, had plenty to say at Lindenbach’s only country club, her opinions having made their way around town, as I was sure she intended. Who knew what Mitchell thought. But I very much doubted it was good.

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