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Trey’s surprise darted through him for at least the fifth time that night. “Beth,” he said. “Listen to what you’re saying.”
She searched his face, but Trey looked down at his hands in his lap. “Teenagers, Beth?” TJ was almost a decade from being a teenager. She’d asked him for five months. Did she want more?
She sucked in a breath, and that brought Trey’s gaze back to her face. A beautiful flush colored her cheeks, and those pretty eyes were wide with fear. “I—”
“Tell me what you want,” he said, hoping it sounded like a request and not a demand.
Beth took a deep breath and sat up even straighter, tucking her legs under her body. “I’ll start at the very beginning,” she said.
“Sounds like a good place to start.” Trey stifled a yawn, because he wanted to be here. He wanted to hear what Beth Dixon wanted from beginning to end. He already knew if he could give her what she wanted—even part of it—he would.
“I want to keep my farm,” she said. “It’s all I’ve been focused on since Danny died. Things are getting better, but it’s very slow, and every time I feel like I’ve taken a step ahead, something happens to set me back two or three paces.”
“Like cutting your hand,” he said.
“I’ve used all of the meager savings I’d managed to build to pay people to come do what I can’t,” she said, her misery heavy in her voice. “My dad has been supporting me and TJ for years. Clothes. Food.”
Trey reached over and took her hand, hoping to lend support.
“That’s why I wanted to enter the Sweetheart Classic,” she said. “It’s a lot of money, and I could pay off the debts, stop using my dad, and take some real leaps forward.”
Trey thought about the money in his bank account. He could fund the Sweetheart Classic for a century and not even miss the prize money. He said nothing, though, because Beth already knew about the size of his bank account. Not the exact number, but enough.
“I want to be a good mom,” she said. “I want to raise TJ right. I want a partner as I do it. There’s a reason men and women have children together. It’s so when he won’t listen to me, he’ll listen to his dad. And when his dad can’t get through to him, I can.”
Trey had never thought about his parents that way, but as Beth spoke, he could see the way they’d tag-teamed their kids as they raised them. Daddy was the softer parent. The one Trey felt comfortable going to when he had a problem.
He’d taught Trey to be honest, no matter what. He’d taught Trey to work hard. He’d taught Trey to say what needed to be said.
His mother had been the harder parent. The one always nagging the boys to do their chores, finish their homework, and get ready for church. She handled every little detail around the house and with the family, as well as all the charitable organizations the ranch was involved in. She didn’t have time for back-talk, or disrespect, and she’d never tolerated either.
As a result, Trey had never done anything but agree with her. There were no discussions. It was Mom’s way or no way.
“I want a loving marriage,” Beth said, and Trey turned to look at her. She gazed right back at him. “I want to have more children. I want to eat fried chicken on Friday nights, and spend time with my family on the Sabbath.” She smiled, but it wobbled a little. Her voice pitched up and shook when she said, “I kind of want it all, Trey.”
“You should have it then,” he said, his throat tight and his pulse pounding through his body.
“What do you want?” she asked.
He swallowed, his mind whirring. In the end, he simply said, “Everything you just said.”
She turned her whole body toward him and rested her elbow along the top of the couch. “Everything?” She pushed her hand through her hair and rested her head in her palm, watching him with eagerness in her eyes.
“Sure.” He cleared his throat. “I want a wife, a family, a good piece of land to work.” He swallowed, trying to find the precise things he wanted.
TJ.
Beth.
This farmhouse.
This land?
The first three were absolutes.
“I want to be happy,” he said. “With all of those things.” He wasn’t sure how much he could say. If he said he wanted to be TJ’s father, that blew the fake part of their upcoming marriage right out of the water. It exposed everything he’d been harboring for Beth for the past few months.
He felt like he was standing on the tallest mountain in the world, looking down into a valley thousands of feet below. If he jumped, and spilled everything, would she catch him? Or had he misread her signals for the past couple of months?
