16. Luca
Luca
Ford brings Buck to a stop outside the barn before swinging out of the saddle. I follow a second later, my boots hitting the ground as Jasper lowers his head, already searching for the patches of grass growing along the fence line.
Sarah slides from Daisy’s back and loops the reins over her arm while Ford starts leading Buck inside. The three of us untack the horses together, hanging bridles on their hooks and carrying saddles back into the tack room.
When the last saddle is back on its rack, Ford looks over at Sarah.
“Sweet Girl.”
She turns toward him.
“Go see if your mama needs a hand with lunch.”
She glances between the two of us.
“You sure?”
He nods once.
“I’ve got things here.”
Sarah walks over to me, slipping her hand into mine for a second.
“Good luck,” she whispers.
I let out a quiet breath.
“Thanks.”
She smiles before looking over at her dad.
“Okay, Daddy.”
“Don’t keep your mama waiting.”
“I won’t.”
She gives me one last look over her shoulder before disappearing through the barn doors. The silence settles in behind her.
Ford picks up a comb from the hook beside Buck’s stall and begins working it over the horse’s shoulder. He doesn’t look at me right away, and I don’t rush him. I stand a few feet away with one hand in my jacket pocket, my fingers resting against the velvet ring box.
For a while, the only sound between us is the steady scrape of the comb.
“You treat my daughter well.”
It’s a statement, not a question.
“I do my best.”
He nods once.
“I’ve watched the two of you since you got here.” He brushes another slow circle across Buck’s shoulder. “She smiles more than she used to.”
I glance toward the open barn door where Sarah disappeared a few minutes ago.
“She makes me smile, too.”
“I can see that.”
He sets the comb aside and reaches for a stiff brush.
“Sarah’s always had a big heart. Sometimes bigger than her own good.” He runs the brush down Buck’s neck. “When she loves somebody, she doesn’t do it halfway.”
“I know.”
His eyes lift to mine for the first time.
“So I need to ask you something.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What are your intentions with my daughter?”
My fingers tighten around the ring box in my pocket, and I draw a slow breath.
“I was hoping you’d ask me that.”
I pull my hand from my pocket, the small velvet box resting in my palm.
“I’d like your blessing to ask Sarah to marry me.”
He doesn’t say anything right away. He rests both hands on the saddle and studies me.
“How long have you two been together?”
“Four months.”
One of his eyebrows lifts.
“Four months.”
“Yes, sir.”
He looks back at the horse.
“That’s not very long.”
“No, sir.”
“So what makes you think you’re ready to marry my daughter?”
Because every answer running through my head sounds too simple. Because she’s home. Because I can’t imagine waking up beside anyone else. Because I knew before she did.
Instead, I tell him the truth.
“I’ve never been more certain of anything.”
He nods once.
“I appreciate you asking.”
Before he can say anything else, I take a slow breath.
“Before you answer, there’s something you need to know about me.”
He waits.
“The life most people think I live isn’t my life.”
His eyes stay on mine.
“I wasn’t hired to drive people around.”
I pause.
“I was raised in organized crime, and it’s all I’ve ever known.
I hold his gaze.
“I’ve spent my adult life protecting my family. I’ve done things I’m not proud of. I’ve taken lives when I believed it was necessary. And before you ask, yes. Sarah knows.”
He doesn’t look at me. Instead, he reaches for the comb hanging from the stall door and starts working it through Daisy’s coat with slow, even strokes. Dust lifts into the afternoon light before drifting back to the ground. The mare flicks an ear but doesn’t move. Neither of us says a word.
He brushes her for another minute, setting the comb aside before running a hand down her neck. His palm lingers there for a moment as he lets out a slow breath. Only then does he turn to look at me.
“You expect me to hand my daughter over to a man who kills for a living?”
“I expect you to hand her over to a man who knows every part of her.”
Silence.
“Sir, she told me.”
He doesn’t answer. He runs his hand along Daisy’s back. Only then does he look at me.
“Did she?”
“Yes, sir.”
His eyes don’t leave mine.
“So you know what happened to my little girl.”
“I do.”
“And now you’ve come here asking for my blessing.”
“I have.”
The silence that follows stretches long enough for the horses to become the only sound in the barn. One shifts its weight. Another flicks its tail against the wooden stall. He finally turns toward me.
“My daughter spent eight years believing no man would ever love every part of her if they knew what happened that morning.”
My chest tightens.
“And now she finally found one.”
He takes a slow step closer.
“The problem is.” He studies me for another moment. “The man she found just told me he belongs to the Mafia.”
I don’t look away.
“Yes, sir.”
“You told me you’ve killed people.”
“I have.”
“You told me you’d do it again if it meant protecting your family.”
“I would.”
“So explain something to me. Why should I hand the most important person in my life over to a man who’s spent his entire adult life surrounded by violence?”
The question hangs between us.
“When I tucked Sarah into bed after she was born, I made myself a promise.” His voice stays calm, but somehow that’s worse. “I’d spend the rest of my life protecting her.”
His jaw tightens.
“I failed once.”
Then he looks me dead in the eye.
“I don’t intend to fail her again.”
“You won’t.”
His eyebrows lift slightly.
“Because if you give me your blessing…” I swallow. “She won’t just have you protecting her anymore.”
He watches me for a long moment without saying a word. Then he asks the question I’ve been expecting since I stepped into this barn.
“And what happens,” he says quietly, “when the life you’ve chosen comes looking for her?”
“You spent twenty-five years protecting Sarah.” I meet his eyes. “I’m not asking you to stop. I’m asking you to let me stand beside you.”
He doesn’t answer. The silence stretches before his gaze drifts past me toward the open barn doors.
“When Sarah was five,” he says, “she decided she was ready to ride by herself.”
He looks out towards the house.
“Her mama wanted me to keep a lead rope on her.”
One corner of his mouth twitches.
“Sarah wouldn’t have it.”
He shakes his head once.
“She looked at me and said, ‘Daddy, if you don’t let go, I’ll never learn.’”
His eyes find mine again.
“I hated letting go.”
Another pause.
“But I did.”
He walks over and picks up his hat from the fence post, settling it on his head before turning back toward me.
“If she wants to spend the rest of her life with you…”
He holds my gaze.
“…I’m not going to be the man who stands in her way.”
He closes the distance between us, stopping in front of me before holding out his hand.
“You have my blessing.”