Chapter 37
FOR REAL THIS TIME
The living room smells like buttered popcorn and fresh coffee, the big couch crowded with bodies in a way that feels both chaotic and exactly right.
The credits for The Comeback Rider are still rolling across the portable screen, Quinn’s name prominent as writer and producer.
The house buzzes with the kind of warm, slightly teary laughter that only comes after a really good story hits you square in the chest. My wife did that, and I grow more and more proud and awestruck by the day.
Quinn sits on the end of the couch with Sadie tucked against her side, her small hand clutching the remote.
My arm is draped around Quinn, who leans into me, cheeks still flushed from the applause her family gave the film.
Across from us, Diane sits with her hands clasped in her lap, eyes shining as she dabs at them with a tissue.
Next to her, Lane, is grinning from ear to ear, legs curled under her on the oversized ottoman.
“I still can’t believe you wrote that,” Diane says, voice thick with pride. She reaches out, leaning to squeeze Quinn’s knee. “My baby. That ending… My word, it got me.”
Lane nods vigorously, her honey hair bouncing. “The way the entire town wanted this win—” She turns those bright eyes on my little girl, adding, “And you were so good in it, Sadie. The best part, honestly.”
Sadie beams, pressing closer to Quinn. “Daddy said I’m a natural.”
“You are,” I confirm, voice low and steady, the pride in it impossible to miss. I ruffle Sadie’s hair gently. “Couldn’t have asked for a better little cowgirl onscreen.”
Diane laughs softly, her gaze shifting to me with open warmth.
She was nervous when they first arrived earlier this afternoon—both she and Lane flew in too late for the official screening but were determined to make up for it here, in our home.
But the moment they met Sadie, something clicked.
Sadie showed them her room, her horse drawings, her collection of toy cowboys, and both women melted on the spot.
Diane had already promised to teach her how to crochet pot holders, and Lane spent half an hour on the floor playing “rodeo” with her using Sadie’s stuffed animals.
I clear my throat, reaching down beside the couch for the small gift bag I’d stashed there earlier. Leaning forward, I hand it to Diane with a sheepish grin.
“Before I forget—and before you try making any more of those pot holders that melt in the oven—here. The right yarn. Heat-resistant, the lady at the craft store swore by it. No more scorched fingers or ruined projects.”
Quinn's eyes cut to mine, shiny with emotion. I bet she is surprised I remembered she told me that fact about her mom, but I've remembered every word she's spoken to me. Cherished them, even.
Diane’s eyes widen as she pulls out the skeins of sturdy, specially-labeled yarn, a delighted laugh escaping her. “Landry, you remembered? Oh, honey, you didn’t have to do that.”
“Course I did,” I reply simply, shrugging my shoulders. “Can’t have my mother-in-law burning the house down trying to make us pot holders.”
Lane snorts, elbowing her mother. “He’s already saving us from yarn-related disasters.”
Diane swats at her daughter playfully, but her smile is soft when she looks back at me. “Thank you. Truly. It means more than you know.”
The room settles into a comfortable quiet again, the TV now showing the menu screen. Sadie yawns wide, fighting sleep like the stubborn little thing she is, and Quinn presses a kiss to the top of her head.
The weight of the moment settles into my chest—the good kind. These women flew out to meet me and Sadie, to celebrate Quinn’s success, to fold themselves into this new version of family we are all building. I've already asked Quinn once, in the heat of everything, but now feels like the right time.
I glance at Quinn, catching her eye, and she gives me the smallest nod, encouragement shining. I turn to Diane.
“Diane,” I start, voice dropping into that low, serious timbre that comes out when something matters.
I rub a hand over my jaw, suddenly a little nervous despite the fact I know I shouldn't be. “I know we didn’t exactly do this the traditional way. Life got ahead of us, and I asked Quinn once already in a moment that was… well, intense. But I want to do it right. Here, with you and Lane, with Sadie listening in like she’s part of every important thing. ”
I reach over and take Quinn’s hand in mine, thumb brushing over her knuckles.
“I love your daughter more than I’ve got words for.
She’s made me a better man, given me a family I didn’t know I needed this bad.
Sadie adores her and I want to build the rest of my life with her.
So I’m asking you, for real this time… for your blessing. For Quinn’s hand in marriage.”
The room goes still. Sadie’s eyes go wide, a sleepy grin spreading across her face as she whispers, “Daddy’s asking for real?”
Diane’s hand flies to her mouth, tears spilling over, the happy kind. She looks from me to Quinn, then back, her expression full of fierce maternal pride and something deeper. Trust.
“Oh, Landry,” she says, voice trembling with emotion. She reaches out and covers my hands with her own. “You’ve already got it. You had it the minute I saw how you looked at my girl, and how you are with that precious child of yours. Welcome to the family, son. For real.”
Lane lets out a whoop, wiping her own eyes. “You two are disgusting levels of perfection together.”
Sadie giggles, climbing half into my lap. “Does this mean we get another wedding? With horses?”
We chuckle, the tension easing out of my shoulders as I pull both of my girls close, meeting Diane’s gaze with gratitude that runs bone deep. “Horses and everything, baby girl. Long as your grandma and aunt are there to help us celebrate.”
Diane nods, emotional from her new and sudden title, still holding my hands. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
And just like that, in the glow of the portable TV screen and the warmth of a house full of new beginnings, the family feels a little bigger, a little more complete. I press a kiss to Quinn’s temple, whispering against her skin, “Told you I’d do it right.”
She smiles, eyes bright. “You always do, cowboy.”
The last thing this moment calls for is the ring Bert and I have been working on for a few weeks. This is the surprise even Quinn isn’t aware of. Sadie, either.
I get up, sliding Sadie into a free cushion on the couch, and pluck my hat from my head, resting it atop my daughter’s. I wink. “Hang on to this for a minute, will you, sugar?”
She nods, and I fall to one knee between the two couches, and the room falls silent.
From my pocket, I produce the navy blue box and flip it open, Quinn’s eyes already intense on mine.
I don’t have a big preamble planned. I just say what I feel.
“I love you. I’m honored to be loved by you.
I love the way you love Sadie. I love everything about you.
Be Mrs. Vaughn, make me the happiest man alive. Please.”
I take the ring from the box as tears coat her cheeks, her chest growing flush as she sniffles. “Landry,” she whimpers as I slide the ring onto her finger. She beams down at the diamond, pure and beautiful, just like her, tucked perfectly into a solid gold band.
“It’s gorgeous, Landry.” She blinks down at it, eyes teary, with Diane and Lane banding around her to check it out.
They coo and aww, and I watch the women in my life enjoy the beauty of this moment, knowing there will now be luckily so many more beautiful moments.
And I have Quinn to thank for that. For everything, really.
“Landry, you did great. This is so beautiful,” Diane compliments.
“Damn, dude, this is huge,” Lane says, eyes wide as she traces the stone with the tip of her pointed finger.
“Wow!” Sadie says, holding Quinn’s hand, analyzing it like she’s never seen a diamond before.
Then again, maybe she hasn’t.
“Bert made a beautiful ring for a beautiful woman.”
We spend the rest of the afternoon touring the Vaughn Ranch property on the four-wheeler.
Lane gets out and wants to mount Daisy, and I help her, and Quinn laughs when she falls off.
We feed the chickens and introduce everyone to Big Bertha, then let Diane and Lane brush out Hector.
At the end of the day, we ride out to the wishing well, where Sadie distributes pennies for everyone to toss in and make a wish.
I do it, but I have nothing left to wish for.
I already have everything I’ve ever needed, thanks to Quinn.