Epilogue
Sunny
Six months later
Twin Oaks is already humming at noon, and the day's only getting started.
The dining table has been extended to its full length, with ten places set and enough wildflower bouquets to stock a roadside stand.
Through the kitchen windows, I watch Chef Delany pull a brisket from the smoker, turning it with both hands and frowning at the crust as if it personally insulted him.
The smell of mesquite smoke drifts in, layered with roasted corn and something buttery from the oven.
My mother arrived first thing this morning.
Now, she and Gran are shoulder to shoulder over a cutting board, Gran's pearl-handled knife making quick work of a peach while my mother demonstrates a julienne technique that has Gran leaning in and nodding.
Three hours ago they hugged a greeting in the front hall.
Within thirty minutes, Gran had extracted my mother's entire personal history, as well as her secret recipe for the perfect peach cobbler.
My mother, who guards her recipes the way Fort Knox guards gold, handed it over without a fight.
"I should have come sooner." My mother sets her knife down and presses her palm flat against the countertop. "I kept putting it off because of the restaurant schedule, and I am sorry for that. Six months of excuses is too many."
"Nonsense." Gran waves a hand. "You're here now, and that's what matters."
My mother's smile reaches her eyes, and she catches my gaze across the room and mouths I love this woman. I turn back to the napkins, steadying myself against the unexpected swell of happiness.
The front door bangs open, and Evie Freeman's booming voice cuts through the house.
"Uncle Charlie! We're here!" she singsongs.
I round the corner just in time to catch Charlie taking the last three stairs in one stride, his dark hair still damp from the shower and a clean shirt half-tucked at his waist. Charlie sweeps Evie up before she's made it two steps, tucking her against his side while she shrieks with delight, her dark curls, pinned up and already escaping on one side, bouncing against her cheek.
"Hey there, Button." He plants a kiss on her plump cheek.
I move in beside them and point at Evie's feet. "Look at those purple boots. They're so pretty," I comment, and she beams at me. "Are they new?"
She bobs her head, sending the curls into a frenzy.
Mason comes through the door next with the infant car seat, Rachel at his shoulder with the diaper bag. Cody follows carrying a casserole dish, and Burt and Alice, Mason’s parents, bring up the rear.
"Well, there you are," Gran says, her voice warm as she takes them all in, her gaze lingering on Rachel before it drops to the carrier. "Come in, come in."
"Now, let me see my new great-grandson." Gran reaches for the car seat before Mason has fully set it down. She peers inside and lets out a soft "there he is," her fingertip going straight to his cheek.
Levi Theodore Freeman is one month old, his sweet little face pink and peaceful, eyes closed, hands open and relaxed against the blanket. Rachel lifts him from the seat and settles him against her shoulder.
"He looks just like Mason," Gran announces with a chuckle.
"Poor kid," Charlie mutters, and Mason levels a look at him from across the room.
Evie taps my shoulder, her chocolate-brown eyes enormous. "Sunny, can we go see the ducks? Kevin misses me."
"Kevin is a psychopath, Button," Charlie interjects. "He doesn't miss anyone."
"He loves me, Uncle Charlie." Evie squeezes his face between her plump little hands.
"Of course we can, honey," I answer, holding my arms out to her. "Come on. Let's go see them now before dinner time."
I set her down and she takes off like a shot through the front door. "Wait for me, Evie," I call out, following her.
The duck enclosure has expanded since the landscaper's last visit, with a second shelter added near the far fence and a proper gravel path leading from the yard to the gate.
Gerald spots us from the bridge and launches himself off the railing, grunting his excitement as he waddles toward us.
Evie drops to her knees the instant we are through the gate and opens her arms. Gerald walks straight into them. Karen follows, then Biscuit and Dolly, and within seconds Evie is surrounded by four ducks narrating their lives in exhaustive, noisy detail.
"Gerald has been sad because Wadsworth won't share the pond." She scratches his head with a gentleness that belies her volume. "And Kevin has been mean to the ranch cat again."
"How do you know all this?"
"Uncle Charlie sends me videos every morning." She says this as though it is the most obvious thing in the world.
I sit in the grass beside her and let the ducks investigate my boots. Kevin approaches from the far bank, making the low warbling sound he reserves for people he's deemed acceptable. He settles beside my knee and tucks his bill against his feathers.
"He likes you," Evie says.
"Kevin and I have an understanding."
"What's an understanding?" she asks, her cute nose wrinkling.
"It means we have a deal. If I don't try to pick him up, he won't bite my fingers off."
Evie giggles. "Kevin's silly."
We stay with the ducks until Evie's attention shifts to a butterfly crossing the enclosure, and then she announces that she's hungry and ready to go inside. I latch the gate behind us, brush the grass from my jeans, and we trudge across the yard.
Evie bursts through the front door ahead of me, already hollering for Rachel, her purple boots clattering toward the kitchen. I follow her in and turn toward the living room and come to a screeching halt.
Charlie's standing near the fireplace with Levi propped against his shoulder, one broad palm spanning the baby's entire back.
He's rocking slightly, an unconscious motion, and his other palm pats the blue blanket in a rhythm so gentle it looks instinctive.
The baby's face is turned toward Charlie's neck, and a tiny fist has closed around the collar of his shirt.
My breath freezes.
I've seen Charlie handle horses. He's lifted me from a saddle, carried me across a room, and pinned a grown man to cobblestones.
But this, his jaw tipped down, his lips near the baby's dark hair, his entire body gentle in a way that turns all that size and strength into something careful and reverent, this undoes me.
The image forms before I can stop it: Charlie holding a baby with my eyes, as he rocks with our child pressed against his neck.
He glances up and catches me staring. The grin he gives me is the easy one, unbothered, as if holding his nephew is the most natural thing in the world.
"He spit up on my good shirt," Charlie says, still swaying. "Twice."
"It suits you." My voice drops lower than I intend, and his grin falters. His eyes narrow, searching my face, reading whatever he finds there the way he reads a horse, missing nothing. The air between us pulls taut.
Rachel appears and reclaims Levi with a practiced scoop. "Quit hogging my baby, Charlie."
"He likes me better."
"He's four weeks old. He likes whoever is warmest." Rachel settles the baby against her shoulder and turns to me. "Sunny, you look shell-shocked. You okay?"
"I'm great." I straighten and release the doorframe. "He's beautiful, Rachel."
"He screams from midnight to four every single night, and Mason and I haven't slept since he was born, but yes." Rachel presses her lips to the fuzzy top of Levi's head. "He is beautiful."
Dinner is loud and wonderful. Oscar and the staff circulate with platters while we talk over each other the way families do when everyone has something to say and nobody wants to wait.
My mother sits between Gran and Alice, and the three of them lean into each other like co-conspirators, Gran whispering something that makes Alice slap the table and my mother cover her mouth with her napkin.
Burt tells a story about a bull that escaped a corral and ended up in someone's swimming pool, and Mason laughs so hard he has to set his fork down.
"Hey, Sunny," Cody says, talking around a mouthful of brisket, "how's the cave thing going?"
"Construction is nearly complete. Two more months if we're lucky," I answer. "You should come over and watch them work sometime. It's really fascinating."
"Cool. I will," he says, and he means it.
Mason leans back in his seat and drapes an arm over Rachel's chair. "I heard something interesting the other day," he mentions casually. "Beau Hartman's father passed away last week, and apparently there were a few boulder-sized curveballs in the will that he's not so happy about."
"What's going on?" Charlie asks.
"Nobody seems to know." Mason shrugs and reaches for his wine. "But whatever it is, it's got Beau all worked up."
The conversation moves on, and dessert arrives, and my mother compliments Chef Delany's apple crisp with enough industry jargon that the man's ears turn red.
Charlie has been quiet through most of dessert.
He normally holds court at these gatherings, trading barbs with Mason and Rachel, but today his gaze keeps drifting to me and then away, a beat too late.
He turns his water glass on the tablecloth.
His knee bounces under the table. Twice I catch him shoving his fingers into the front pocket of his jeans and then pulling his hand back.
I'm about to ask if he's okay, when he clears his throat and pushes back from the table. The scrape of wood against the floor sounds louder than it should. He stands, his hands flexing at his sides and his Adam's apple bobbing twice before he speaks. The room quiets and all eyes shoot to him.
"I had a fancy speech planned for this, wrote it out on a napkin in the barn this morning and everything. Wade told me it was terrible, and he was right. So, I’ve decided to just wing it and speak from the heart instead."
He lowers himself to one knee in front of me and the breath leaves my body in a big whoosh.
"You are the bravest, sharpest, most beautiful woman I have ever known, and every day I spend with you makes me want a thousand more.
" His voice is rough, stripped of every layer of humor and charm. He opens his palm, and the ring catches the candlelight and throws green fire across the white tablecloth. It’s an antique gold band, set with a brilliant emerald flanked by two diamonds.
"This was my great-great-grandmother's ring." His voice catches. He swallows and pushes through the emotion. "Gran wore it for her entire marriage and gave it to me not long after she met you." His hazel eyes are bright, and a muscle jumps in his jaw. "Marry me, Sunshine."
The candle flames flicker in the silence. Not even Evie moves as he awaits my answer.
I stare at this man kneeling at my feet, stunned. His earnest face is the most handsome I’ve ever seen.
"Yes, Charlie." The word comes out clear despite the tears of happiness welling in my eyes. "Absolutely yes."
The room erupts. Gran clasps her hands together, her eyes spilling over. My mother presses both palms to her mouth, her shoulders shaking.
"Uncle Charlie, what's happening?" Evie shouts, and Cody grins from his end of the table.
"I'm giving you an aunt, Button," Charlie comments as he slides the ring onto my finger, and the gold is warm from his palm. The emerald glows against my skin, deep and alive. He stands and pulls me into his arms, and when his mouth finds mine, the kiss tastes like the beginning of everything.
"Took you long enough, Hayden," I whisper against his lips.
"Some things are worth the wait, Sunshine."