Chapter Twenty-Four
Twenty-Four
“S trange way to head to the ranch,” Willow murmured, more to herself than to Eli, as they drove home. She was still reeling from his having told her he was quitting the ranch to become a coach for young bull riders, but she saw the sparkle in his eyes. The choice was the right one.
“Thought we’d take the scenic route today,” Eli replied. He flashed a quick, enigmatic smile.
Willow shifted her attention back outside, her curiosity gnawing at her. Before they had left the shelter, she’d caught Eli in a hushed conversation over the phone.
“Does this have something to do with the phone call before we left?” she asked casually, though the question felt anything but casual in her chest.
“You’ll see,” Eli said with a laugh.
“Okay,” she conceded.
Silence settled once more, but it was a living thing, pulsing with the heartbeat of questions left unanswered. Willow searched the passing scenery, looking for clues, for signs, for anything that might reveal where he was going.
Until the truck slowed. Her breath hitched as they approached the wrought iron gates of the Timber Falls Cemetery.
The truck’s engine hushed to a low purr as Eli shifted into Park, the silence of the cemetery wrapping around her. Willow’s gaze was drawn to the lone figure of the woman. “Betty?”
“I asked her to meet us here.” Eli’s door creaked open and shut with a soft thud.
She followed him out of the truck, her heart catching as he circled to the truck’s bed and withdrew something large and obscured by a tarp. With careful hands, he unveiled the object—a bench of rich cedar, its surface sanded to a satiny finish.
Willow put two and two together. “Did you make that for Betty?” she managed, emotions lodged in her throat.
A nod. “When I didn’t have you,” he said softly.
“Betty doesn’t know...” Willow asked.
Eli shook his head. “Not yet.”
“Oh, Eli,” Willow said, dropping a kiss on his lips. “You’re a good man.”
As expected, he dodged the compliment with a small smile. Together, they lifted the bench and approached Betty, the silence of the cemetery wrapping around them like a thick winter shawl.
Eli cleared his throat as they neared. “Betty,” he called gently.
She turned, her eyes widening at the sight of the bench cradled between them. “Hi, dears.”
“Got something for you,” Eli said, and there was a tenderness in his voice that made Willow’s chest tighten.
They set the bench down with care at the foot of Henry’s grave, the cedar wood glowing warmly against the cold gray stones. Betty’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.
“I made this for you,” Eli said, stepping back but keeping his gaze locked on Betty’s face. “A place to sit...to spend time with Henry.”
Willow watched on, her heart swelling as the words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. She saw the way Betty’s shoulders shook, the tremble of her hands as she reached out to touch the smooth wood, tracing the lines.
“Thank you, Eli,” she whispered. “This is so very wonderful.”
Eli nodded, his own eyes betraying a rare vulnerability. “You’re welcome, Betty. I just wanted to make sure you had a place here with him.”
“I have never seen anything more beautiful.” Betty took him in a long affectionate hug. The sight of the grizzled cowboy showing such tenderness warmed Willow from head to too.
When Betty leaned away from Eli, she enveloped Willow, and Willow hugged her back tight. She couldn’t help but feel grateful for Betty’s presence in her life and the Christmas magic she sprinkled over Eli and Willow.
Betty sat a moment on the bench, stared at Henry’s tombstone. “How lovely is this. It’s just perfect.” She sat a moment longer and then rose. “While I would love to enjoy it longer, we do have a party to get to. I’ll meet you there.” She squeezed Eli’s hand. “Thank you again, dear, this is a special gift.”
“You are so welcome, Betty.” Eli smiled.
As they walked back to the truck and Betty headed for her car, Eli slid his hand in Willow’s before tugging a little, stopping her. She followed his gaze and spotted two gravestones that clenched her heart.
There were a million things she could say, but she figured to start at the beginning. “Hi, Marianne and Miranda, I’m Willow, Eli’s girlfriend,” she said with a little wave. “It’s nice to meet you. We’ll be seeing a lot of each other. Merry Christmas.”
Eli turned to her with a chuckle. “God, you’re cute.” He pulled her in close, kissed her forehead and chuckled as he led her away. “And they would have loved you.”
Willow smiled in return, wishing she’d had the chance to meet them.
They were back on the road in no time, and twenty minutes later, the Timber Falls Ranch sprawled before them. Its rustic charm magnified by the twinkling Christmas lights that wound around porch rails and draped over the shingled roof. Willow had been hearing about Jaxon’s legendary Christmas Eve party for a while now, and she realized no one was downplaying it. He went all out.
Some of the ranches’ cowboys were laughing over some unknown joke by the crackling fire pit, drinking beers. The children, bundled up in colorful winter gear were engrossed in their own world—lassoing fake bulls and missing most times, while others, cheeks rosy from the cold, rolled hefty snowballs to build a snowman.
“City kids are cute, but country kids are seriously adorable,” Willow pointed out. She paused to watch a little girl tug on a makeshift lasso, her tiny hands determined and sure.
Eli followed Willow’s gaze and smiled. “She’s a natural,” he commented. “Her father is one of the best ropers I know.”
A snowball whizzed past, narrowly missing them, and they turned to see a boy with a sheepish grin wave apologetically. Willow couldn’t help but laugh.
“Careful, you’ll start a war you can’t finish, kiddo!” Eli called back with a wink, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Maybe later,” Willow teased, bumping her shoulder against his playfully. “For now, let’s get inside.”
The warmth of the ranch house enveloped Willow as she stepped over the threshold. Inside the house, laughter and shouts echoed through the expansive living room, where a group of cowboys huddled with their children and better halves. They were engaged in an intense Christmas scavenger hunt.
“Got it!” a little girl squealed, triumphantly holding up a shiny red deer ornament, her father’s pride evident as he lifted her into the air amidst encouraging cheers.
“Willow, honey, you made it!” The familiar voice cut through the loud voices, drawing her gaze.
There, amid the crowd of festive sweaters and happy faces, stood her parents, their eyes crinkling with delight. Her mother’s arms wrapped around her in a hug.
“Hi,” Willow breathed out, allowing herself to be folded into the embrace.
“We’ve gotten into Jaxon’s fine whiskey,” her father said, grinning blissfully from ear to ear as he joined in the hug.
Willow laughed, glancing to Jaxon who shrugged apologetically. “I wouldn’t have expected otherwise,” she said turning to her parents again. “It is Christmas Eve after all.” And her parents loved fine whiskey.
Her mother gave Eli a big hug and then asked, “Did everything go well at the shelter?” Willow had told her parents the truth about Eli, the fake relationship and all of it, when she got home last night. They were happy for her, even though she knew Eli would have to prove himself worthy to them. As her parents, they’d been through lot, but Willow knew Eli would win them over soon enough.
Willow’s attention was drawn toward Aubrey and Charly who were busy constructing gingerbread houses. “Everything went wonderful,” Willow said, focusing back on her parents.
Eli agreed with a nod. “It’s an amazing place.”
“We should donate some money there,” Diane said, spinning around to Cliff. “Don’t you think so, honey?”
“Hmm,” Cliff said. “Sounds like a wonderful cause.” To Willow, he said, “You just let us know when we should donate.”
“Thanks,” Willow said. “I’m sure the shelter will appreciate that.”
Her father finished the remainder of his drink. “Oops, looks like I need more.”
Her mother rolled her eyes and said to Eli, “I might need some help getting him home later.”
“That’s not a problem,” Eli said, laughing as her mother chased after her husband.
Willow snorted a laugh. “I love how she talks like soon she won’t also need help getting home herself.”
Eli gathered Willow in his arms, holding her tight. “They’re having fun. Nothing wrong with that.”
Willow just smiled. Everyone she loved was there, and for all that had gone wrong, it felt like life was just how it should be. As if all the bad that had happened had to, so she could find this new journey.
The laughter and competitive cheers that had been fueling the room’s energy dipped into silence as Jaxon stepped forward, his presence commanding the space like a gentle but unyielding force.
Standing by the fire blazing in the fireplace, he cleared his throat, his gaze flitting across the crowd before coming to rest on Charly, who stood with a half-built gingerbread house in her hands, her brow furrowed in concentration.
“Could I have everyone’s attention, please?” he called.
The cowboys and their families turned, curiosity alight in their eyes.
Jaxon offered a nervous smile, so out of character for the man known for his charming, cocky ways. “Charly,” he began, his voice rich with emotion, “you came into my life like a storm—unexpected and powerful—and you changed everything.”
With every eye in the room trained on the unfolding scene, Jaxon took a deliberate step closer to Charly, and Willow could barely breath. She took a quick look at Aubrey, whose eyes were wide, showing the whites, her hands covering her mouth.
The gingerbread house forgotten, Charly watched him, her heart in her eyes. Then, to the collective gasp of the crowd, he dropped to one knee before her, his gaze never leaving hers.
“I love you. I want forever with you,” he said, opening a little black box revealing an oval diamond ring inside. “Charly Henwood, will you marry me?”
In the span of a heartbeat, the air seemed to still, as if the world itself was holding its breath. Charly began crying, the surprise etching itself into every delicate feature of her face. For a moment, no one moved; even the crackling fire in the hearth seemed to pause in anticipation.
Then, as though released from a spell, Charly’s lips parted, a sob that was part laughter, part disbelief escaped her.
“Yes,” she whispered beneath her hands. “Yes, Jaxon, I will marry you.”
The room erupted—the sound of applause and cheers. Cowboys whistled, children clapped their hands and the women dabbed at their eyes, caught up in the magic of the moment.
Willow felt a surge of happiness so potent it nearly took her breath away... again . When Jaxon finally moved away, she rushed forward, as did Aubrey, throwing their arms around Charly before taking a better look at the ring.
As the last echoes of celebration and congratulations faded, Eli’s gaze found Willow. The radiant joy for their friends still danced in his eyes, but there was something else too—a depth that seemed to pull at her very core.
She moved to him, drawn by the magic between them. He gathered her in his arms, holding her close.
“Someday, when you’re ready... I’ll be the one down on one knee for you.”
His declaration, soft and fierce, sent a shiver up her spine. She searched his face, finding more love than she ever could have dreamed of. “And someday, I’ll say yes.”