Chapter 19
“Did anyone else hear the latest weather update?” Emily asked, one hand rubbing her lower back as she shifted in her chair. “They upgraded it to seventy-mile-per-hour gusts.”
Across the table, Evan looked up from his untouched slice of Christina’s homemade apple pie. “Maybe we should move this upstairs to the garage apartment. These old windows...” He gestured at the cottage’s original casements, which were already rattling in their frames.
“We just got everything set up down here,” Christina said, her voice sharp with frustration. “And I’m not hauling all this food upstairs just because it’s windy.”
“It’s not just windy. Seventy-mile-per-hour gusts can take down trees, power lines—”
“I know what wind can do,” she snapped back. “I’m not five years old.”
Will watched the familiar tension build between the siblings.
Evan’s protectiveness since Christina’s pregnancy announcement had been ramping up, and Christina’s hormones weren’t helping her patience level.
The kid was scared for his sister. Will understood that, but his hovering was driving Christina over the edge.
“How are you feeling tonight?” Tara asked Christina gently, using the tone she’d perfected for defusing family bombs. “You seemed tired when you joined us.”
“I’m fine. Just the usual.” Christina’s hand went instinctively to her still-flat stomach. “The nausea comes and goes.”
“At eight at night?” Evan barely hid his skepticism.
“It’s called pregnancy. It doesn’t follow a schedule.” Christina’s voice rose slightly. “Maybe if you’d bothered to read any of the books I gave you, instead of treating me like I’m made of glass—”
“I don’t treat you like—”
“You do.” The words came out flat, final. “Ever since I told you about the baby, you’ve looked at me like I’m some disaster waiting to happen.”
A particularly violent gust hit the cottage, making everyone freeze as the whole structure creaked.
Through the kitchen window, Will could see tree branches whipping back and forth at dangerous angles.
The old oak near Ally’s main greenhouse was swaying more than he liked, its massive trunk bending in ways that made his stomach clench after all the rain they’d had.
“Okay,” Tara said, standing and moving to the window. “That settles it. Nobody’s going anywhere tonight.”
From her spot near the fireplace, Ally suddenly stood. “I need to check the greenhouse. If those winds get any stronger—”
The lights flickered once, twice, then went out completely, plunging the cottage into darkness broken only by the glow from the fireplace Will had built earlier.
“Well,” Tara said with forced cheer, “that answers that question.”
Ryan’s voice came from somewhere in the darkness: “This is either going to be really romantic or really awkward.”
“Definitely awkward,” Sam muttered from the couch where she’d been sitting with Mrs. Collier. “I’ll get the flashlights from the kitchen drawer.”
Before Sam had taken two steps, a tremendous crack split the air outside, followed by a crash that shook the ground beneath their feet and rattled every dish in the cottage.
Through the kitchen window, they saw the ancient oak tree, its massive trunk crashing through Ally’s largest greenhouse in an explosion of glass and twisted metal as it toppled over.
The silence that followed was deafening.
“No,” Ally said, her voice breaking. “No, no, no.” She pressed against the window, her breath fogging the glass. “My orchids. All my orchids.”
Will moved to her side, seeing the devastation that represented months of careful work and significant investment.
The climate-controlled environment she’d been so proud of.
The specialized orchids she’d been nurturing since she started the business.
The expansion that was supposed to take her flower operation to the next level.
“I have to—” Ally started toward the door, but Will caught her arm.
“You can’t go out there. Not in this wind, and not with all that glass scattered around.”
“But some of them might still be—they could still be saved if I—” Her voice cracked completely.
“Are not worth risking your life over.” His voice was firm, the tone he used when safety wasn’t negotiable. “We’ll deal with it when the storm passes.”
Christina appeared on Ally’s other side, tears in her own eyes. “Oh, Ally. I’m so sorry. All that work...”
“Months,” Ally whispered. “Months of getting those orchids established. Some of them were finally starting to bloom.” She turned away from the window, swiping at her eyes. “I can’t look at it anymore.”
Another violent gust slammed into the cottage, and everyone instinctively moved away from the windows.
The storm was intensifying, not lessening, and Will realized they weren’t just dealing with a power outage anymore, they were riding out what was shaping up to be a genuine weather event instead of the usual weather forecaster dramatics.
“All right,” Tara said, her voice taking on the practical tone that emerged during crises. “Everyone away from the windows. We should all camp upstairs where it’s safer.”
“Sam and Mrs. Collier, you can take my room,” Christina said quickly. “Evan and Emily, you can have the pull-out sofa.”
“Mom, you can bunk with Ally in my room,” Ryan added, then grinned despite the circumstances. “The animals and I will make a fort under the kitchen table.”
Christina smiled. “And I’ll sleep in the recliner. It’s really comfortable.”
As everyone began discussing sleeping arrangements and whether they had enough blankets, Will caught Tara’s arm. “Stay here a minute?”
She nodded, following him to the kitchen while everyone gathered up their things.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded, but her hands were shaking slightly. “I’m glad you’re here. I don’t know how we would have managed this without you.”
Will pulled the ring box from his pocket, his decision suddenly crystal clear. Who cared if a storm was raging?
“What are you doing?” Tara asked, noticing the small velvet box.
He caught her hands, stilling them. “I had this whole speech planned. Candlelight, champagne, the perfect romantic moment to ask you to marry me.”
Tara’s eyes went wide, her hand flying to her heart.
“But tonight reminded me that life doesn’t wait for perfect moments. Storms come, trees fall, plans change. What matters is who you want to weather those storms with.”
He dropped to one knee right there in the kitchen, aware of her family probably listening from the living room but focused entirely on her face. “You’ve taken my quiet life and turned it upside down in the best possible way. Will you marry me?”
The ring caught the kitchen light as he opened the box. A vintage-style diamond solitaire he’d chosen during their trip to Asheville last month, when Tara had admired a similar ring in a jewelry store specializing in vintage pieces.
“Yes,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face. “Yes, of course, yes.”
The kitchen erupted in cheers from the hallway, where the entire family had been shamelessly eavesdropping. Even Evan was grinning as Will slipped the ring onto Tara’s finger, and Christina was crying happy tears.
“Did you all just listen to the entire thing?” Tara asked, laughing through her tears.
“Are you kidding?” Ryan called out. “We weren’t missing that for anything.”