34. Dinner Table #2
I place a hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my palm. “Silas, you know I love you,” I whisper.
His smile is gentle and sure, like the man himself. “Then I’m the luckiest man in the world,” he says, his voice barely more than a breath. “Come on, let’s see if you and Merriweather are a match. Want to go for a ride?”
I nod, unable to keep from smiling. He presses a quick kiss to my forehead before handing me Merriweather’s reins. As I lead her out to the yard, Silas lingers behind, fetching Shadow. Together, we mount, and the horses carry us toward the tree line.
The air feels alive, crisp with the approaching twilight. When the trees part and the wide pastures unfold in front of us, I gently tug Merriweather to a stop, overcome by the sight. The land stretches endlessly, the tall grasses shimmering like waves under the last rays of sunlight.
Silas notices I’ve fallen behind and reins in Shadow, bringing him beside me. His brow furrows. “What are you thinking?” he wonders.
“That this land is beautiful,” I say, my voice thick with awe. “So alive.”
His gaze follows mine, and for a moment, he’s quiet, drinking in the sight. “This land is a part of me,” he says finally, his tone filled with something reverent. He turns back to me, his eyes holding the same promise as his words. “And it’ll be a part of you one day, too. Come on.”
With that, he digs his heel into Shadow’s flank and takes off. Merriweather and I chase after him, her stride sure and smooth as she matches Shadow’s pace.
At the stream on the western edge of the property, Silas pulls up and dismounts. I follow, breathless from the ride, and watch as he rummages through his saddlebag, producing two neatly folded blankets. He lays one on the ground and places the other aside before taking a seat.
As I make my way to the blanket, my fingers brush the cool grass, searching until they close around a lone dandelion. Its delicate white fluff trembles, barely holding strong in the evening breeze.
I lower myself onto the blanket and pat the empty spot beside me. Silas grins, his charm softening the edges of his rough exterior, and slides next to me.
Holding the dandelion between us, I tilt my head, smiling. “Make a wish, Mr. Hayes.”
His lips curve softly. We close our eyes for just a second, only long enough to press silent prayers into the universe. When we open them, we blow. The tiny seeds scatter like whispers floating on the breeze, carrying our hopes into the twilight sky.
I shift to face him, curiosity tugging at my lips. “What did you wish for?”
He doesn’t answer. Not with words .
Instead, his steady hands find my waist, and in one smooth motion, he pulls me into his lap. A startled laugh escapes me as my hands land on his shoulders, anchoring myself as I straddle his legs. His touch is comforting but strained, as if he’s afraid to let me slip away.
His voice drops, rough yet teasing. “Not supposed to say your wish, that’ll jinx it.” His thumb traces slow, absent-minded circles against my hip. “And I need all the luck I can get tonight, Miss Monroe.”
I don’t need to ask again.
I think I already know his wish.
The world feels still, the rushing stream and the distant hum of insects fading into the background as I peer down at him. His hands settle on my waist, but his easy smile carries the promises of a lifetime. There’s so much about him that feels safe , so much that feels like home.
I curl my arms around his neck, my fingers slipping into the soft darkness of his hair. Slowly, I lean forward and press my lips to his, and his kiss is everything sweet and certain, a reflection of him.
Silas's thumbs trail over my cheeks, his eyes searching mine as if he’s etching this moment into his memory. “You and me forever, Caroline?”
I nod, tears brimming, and my heart swells at the conviction of his words. It’s a promise he’s made before, whispered in moments when the world felt infinite and bright. But now, with the sun setting behind him and the warmth of his voice threading between us, it feels more certain than ever.
I sway gently in his lap as he reaches to his side, fingers grasping the other blanket.
My brows knit as I watch him rummage through its folds until his hand emerges, holding a small, red velvet box.
My breath catches, my chest tightening as my gaze darts between his trembling hands and the glint of determination in his eyes.
“Silas…” I breathe, my voice faltering.
His hands, so sure in every other moment, now shake as he brings the box between us. Slowly, he flicks it open to reveal a simple gold band, crowned with a single diamond that sparkles in the fading light. My hands fly to my chest as my heart surges.
He lets me bask in the moment before he speaks. “You and me forever. This life, the next, eternity. I want you in my home, by my side. I want you to have my babies, Caroline. I want to be tied to you in every way a man can be. Say you’ll marry me.”
Tears spill freely down my cheeks as I nod, unable to form words. I gather a shaky breath and finally manage, “Of course I’ll marry you, Silas.”
He exhales, the tension in his shoulders melting as relief washes over him. I hold out my trembling hand, and he slides the ring onto my finger with surprising tenderness, as though the moment itself might break if he moves too quickly.
“I thank God for you every day, Caroline. You’re my everything,” he says, his voice rough with the emotion he’s trying to hold back.
I smile through my tears. “I can’t wait to be your wife, Mr. Hayes.”
His lips find mine, slow and subdued, as if savoring every second. His arms wrap tightly around me, his strength rooting me in this moment. Shifting slowly, he lowers me onto the blanket beneath us, the sky above turning hues of pink and gold.
I draw back slightly, cupping his cheek, my fingers brushing against the faint stubble on his jaw. “Silas?”
His hooded eyes meet mine, filled with happiness and a flicker of need. “Yeah, love?”
I lean up, lips barely brushing his ear as I whisper, “I’m ready.”
His eyes widen as he lifts himself, bracing on his forearms. “But you said you want to wait until we’re married.”
I shrug, a playful smile curving my lips. “We’re halfway there. I have your ring on my finger, don’t I?”
A low growl rumbles from his chest. “Goddammit, Caroline, don’t tease me.”
My hands glide up to the straps of my top, my fingers hooking beneath them. I slide them down, agonizingly slow, baring my shoulders before exposing myself fully. His gaze darkens, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard, the hunger in his eyes igniting something electric in me.
Reaching for him, I begin to unbutton his shirt, my fingers brushing against the warm skin beneath as I slide the fabric from his shoulders and toss it aside.
“I want you, Silas,” I whisper, my voice trembling with need but steady with persuasion.
He hesitates for only a moment, his hands hovering over me. “Are you sure, Caroline?”
“I couldn’t be more sure of anything,” I confess, never feeling so certain of anything before.
He lowers himself onto me, his body solid against mine. For a moment, we’re both still, breaths mingling as the world narrows to just us. Then, in one fluid motion, he scoops me up, flipping me so he’s on his back, my legs draped across his waist.
The surprise sends a laugh bubbling from my lips, my hips bucking against him instinctively.
I lean down, pressing one more kiss to his lips, unable to stop smiling. “You’re like a bronco, Mr. Hayes.”
He grins, his hands gripping my hips as he presses me closer. “Then you better hold on tight, Miss Monroe.”
“Answer me!” His harsh words break me from my memories.
“It’s…it’s a strong, wild horse,” I manage quietly, cautious not to let the tremble reveal the depth of my nerves.
Before I can say more, Silas moves with startling speed. His arms drop, and he steps into my space. Before I can react, he snatches the plate and hurls it against the stable wall. The shattering crash echoes, startling me back a step.
“Do you remember last night?” His jaw ticks, his words biting, edged with frustration.
“Y-yes,” I stammer, feeling the walls close in as he inches closer .
His hands catch my wrists, rough fingers pressing into the tender skin still raw from the rope. A striking jolt of heat flares where he touches me. “Do you remember the words you said after I laid you in your bed?” His grip tightens.
My breath falters, my mind scrambling for clarity. The last clear memory is the rhythm of his steps as he carried me up the stairs. “No,” I admit shakily. “I was asleep.”
The corner of his mouth twitches, a bitter, humorless expression cutting through his features. Without warning, he pushes me against the doorframe, pinning my hands above my head. The cold wood presses against my back as his breath fans across my cheek, hot and sharp.
“How the fuck do you know the name Bronco , Helena?” His voice shakes with restrained fury, each word more pointed than the last. His eyes burn into mine, wild, searching.
“I—did I say it?” I stammer, my voice cracking under the ferocity of his demand. “I don’t?—”
“ Do. Not. Fucking. Lie. To. Me. ” The force of his growl rattles through me, and I freeze beneath his grasp, my heart pounding in my ears.
“Silas, I?—”
“How do you know that name, Helena?” His voice breaks, raw with something far deeper than anger. “Of all the fucking perfumes in the world, why do you wear hers? Why the fuck did I see you and her in the same place last night?”
My thoughts race, grappling with his words.
He’s at a breaking point, anger boiling just beneath the surface, but it’s something more.
It’s a crack in his reality. He’s asking the questions I’ve been avoiding, and now the moment of truth is crashing down around me.
I need to buy some time. He isn’t ready to learn the full truth of my identity.
Silas is a delicate thread unraveling before my eyes.
I need to calm him, distract him from all of these questions.
“There’s something you need to see, Silas.”