Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
Shane tried to keep his hand from trembling. He watched April’s expression go from confused to wide-eyed, her lips parting, mouth opening, her gaze riveted on the velvet box—the most important possession he’d ever owned. He thought back to the beginning of its creation ten days ago.
The early-summer heat had settled into Colorado like it meant to stay.
Shane stepped out of his SUV and studied the big Victorian Ben had meticulously renovated.
Bear usually got the credit for being the handyman—and he deserved it—but Ben?
Ben was an artisan. Always had been, even when they were kids.
That’s why Shane was here. He needed Ben’s artistry.
He’d called ahead. Ben told him to come around back to the forge—said he’d be in the middle of something for the Renaissance Festival west of Castle Rock.
Shane took the gravel path around the side of the house and through the garden As he got closer to the backyard, he heard it.
The steady rhythm of hammer on metal. Not the wild clang of a novice, but measured, patient strikes—each one landing with precision, ringing like iron bells.
The river behind the property ran high with snowmelt, loud and fast and silver in the June light.
Cottonwood fluff drifted through the yard like someone had opened a down pillow and shaken it out.
The smithy windows were thrown open, the doors too—heat shimmered at the threshold.
Working a forge in the summer was no joke.
It was a test of endurance, precision, and brute strength in equal measure.
Shane stepped inside.
The scent hit him first: cedar, smoke, and hot metal. Coals glowed in the arched brick oven he’d made, kicking out waves of dry heat. The anvil sat in the center of the room like an altar, the floor swept but still stained with years of blood, sweat, and ash.
Ben stood with his back to the door, a mountain in motion.
He was shirtless, skin sheened with sweat, muscles working with every swing of the hammer.
His dark hair was tied back with a leather cord at the nape, grown long for his summer run at the Ren Faire.
He wore a black utility kilt, boots, and a leather apron folded down at the waist, revealing the full flex of his shoulders and back as he turned a glowing piece of steel with his tongs. He struck again.
Ben looked over his shoulder. “Heard you coming. You stomp like a guilty man.”
Shane huffed. “I don’t stomp. You just hear like a moose with PTSD.”
Ben grinned. “I prefer hyper-vigilant artisan.” He adjusted the steel on the anvil, gave it one more clean strike, then set the hammer aside.
The piece went into the quench tank with a hiss, steam rising in a white cloud.
Only then did he face Shane, sweat rolling down his chest in lazy trails, arms streaked with soot.
He nodded toward the house. “Got cold beers in the fridge. Go in. Help yourself. Give me a second to clean up.”
Shane opened the screen door to a sunroom at the back of the house, built off the kitchen.
Fans spun fast over outdoor chairs, tables, and a couch.
He went inside, grabbed two beers from the fridge, and came back out.
Ben had taken off his blacksmith’s apron and put on a shirt.
They sat down across from each other, a coffee table between them, and sipped their beers while Ben cooled off.
Finally Ben said, “So. Tell me why you’re here.” He rubbed the cold bottle along the back of his neck.
Shane exhaled slowly. “It’s time. I want you to make our rings.”
Ben didn’t react big — he just blinked once, steady. “Okay,” he said, like Shane had told him the forecast. “When do you want them?”
“Before the hearing in ten days. Vince is still missing. We’re preparing for every eventuality, but—” He stopped, jaw clenching.
“I want her to walk into that courtroom wearing my ring. I want Kevin to know he’s not going to lose us.
And I want that asshole to understand he’s already lost.” Shane waited for Ben to tell him no, he needed more time.
Ben nodded once. “Done, brother.”
“Jesus. Thank you, Moose.”
Ben picked up a sketchbook from the table and flipped it open then reached for a pencil. “Tell me when you knew.”
Shane’s laugh came quiet, almost embarrassed. “High school.”
The corner of Ben’s mouth quirked up. “Obviously. But when recently?”
Shane leaned back in the chair. “Eldorado Canyon. Mid-May, right before Kevin got outta school.”
Ben’s pencil scratched — faint, rhythmic. He didn’t hurry him.
"I'd asked April the night before if she'd consider giving me a second chance.
She said she'd give me her answer after the hike.
It was a beautiful day. Kevin's curiosity was dialed up to eleven, asking questions every three steps.” The memory tightened his chest. “We stopped for a picnic.” He traced a lazy circle on the armrest with his fingertip.
“A thunderstorm rolled in faster than we expected. We left ahead of it but it caught up to us. We took shelter at my house. Everything felt so right. The whole day, having them in my home, all of it.”
“That’s when?” Ben asked quietly.
“That’s when.” Shane cleared his throat. “She said yes to the second chance that night. And since then, I’ve done everything in my power to make damn sure she never regrets it.”
Ben sketched for another minute, then his pencil slowed. He finished, set down the pencil and turned the page toward Shane.
“Dude, that’s… Perfection.”
Ben chuckled. He tapped the first ring sketch. Specifically, the grain rippling like river currents and canyon striations. Along the outer edge, topographic lines of Eldorado Canyon, rising and falling like breath.
“Damascus steel. Those lines will be made by the folds in the metal.” His finger ran along the lines. “A river for Riversong. A gold interior band—light held safe inside strength.”
Then he tapped the second drawing. “White gold. Thin inlay of Damascus.” He looked up at Shane, then pointed to the outer surface. “Silhouette of Eldorado engraved here. Clouds and a lightning bolt for the storm you survived that day, and the one you’ll survive now, understand?”
Shane nodded slowly, gazing at the drawing.
When placed side by side, the mountain lines of his ring would align with the river lines of hers, forming one continuous landscape. Home.
Together, two rings whose designs echoed and completed each other.
Shane didn’t speak for a long moment. His hand came up, thumb pressing along the edge of the page like he could feel the metal under paper.
“That’s it,” he said. “That’s us.”
Ben nodded once. “She’s going to cry.”
Shane let out a breath that might have been a laugh. He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Yeah. So will I.”
“Remember when we used to play in that canyon?” Ben asked.
Shane looked up with a grin. “Yeah, I do.”
“Is that why you took her there?”
“One of the reasons,” Shane said. “That place brought up some deep memories. Going back through it with her and Kevin... I could see all of us as kids. Playing soldier. Pretending we were invincible.”
Ben huffed. “Funny how that all turned out, huh?”
“Yeah,” Shane said. “Sure is.”
He went quiet a moment, then added, “I’m still haunted by the day April left.”
Ben nodded. “Yeah. I know you are, brother. Never should’ve happened.”
“I’m thankful you stepped up—”
Ben waved him off.
“I wasn’t,” Shane admitted.
Ben scrubbed a hand across his face. “Your dad met me at the door. I was expecting you. He told me you’d changed your mind and shoved an envelope full of money into my hands. Told me to head to the bus station and give it to her.”
“I had no idea, Ben. No idea you were walking into all that.”
“I didn’t know you were lying in a hospital bed,” Ben said quietly. “Didn’t know you’d been there since the night before. That that bastard put you there.”
Shane grimaced. “He lied to them, you know. Told the staff I was having a psychotic break. He caught me trying to kill myself. Said he was trying to restrain me.”
Ben didn’t say anything, just listened to him.
“They believed him,” Shane said bitterly. “He showed them the defensive wounds on his arms, claimed I’d attacked him. I was covered in bruises. Covered in my own defense wounds. They fucking believed him.”
He looked down at the table. “I did fight back—unfortunately. I should’ve just taken the knocks, not given him anything to use against me.”
Shane’s jaw clenched. “So not only was I hospitalized for the beating, they put me on a seventy-two-hour psych hold. They drugged me. I spent two months in that mental wing.”
His voice dropped. “Just long enough for her to disappear. Just long enough to break me. After that, I did whatever my father told me. Took me another couple years to snap out of it.”
He looked up. “It was April. She was the one. I realized I couldn’t live without her. I spent years trying to find her, Ben. And when I found out she was back in Lyons—back home—that’s when I got scared.”
“Scared she’d turn you away?” Ben asked.
“Yeah.”
“But she didn’t.”
Shane shook his head. “No. She didn’t. She’s a hell of a lot stronger than I’ve ever been. And she’ll never give herself credit for that.”
“Then give yourself credit,” Ben said. “For being a good man today.”
They both looked back down at the sketch. “I’ve got an aquamarine stone the exact shade of a Colorado summer sky. It’ll go right there.” He pointed at a spot on the river ring. “I’ll have them done for you in a week, brother,” Ben said.
“I can’t thank you enough.”
Ben shrugged, looking away. “It’s my pleasure, man.” Then, more quietly, he added, “Don’t know if I’ll ever make one for myself.”
Shane gave him a look. “Man, you’ve gotta get over that, brother.”
Ben huffed a dry laugh.
“Look, I’ve known Charlie forever,” Shane continued. “I can—”
“She’s an extraordinary woman,” Ben interrupted. “Way above my pay grade.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Shane said, grinning. “I seem to recall Elias thought the same thing about Wren, too. Look how that turned out.”
Ben chuckled. “There’s a world of difference between Elias and me.”
Shane laughed. “That’s fair. Out of all of us, Elias was the one who picked up the most women. That golden-boy thing—blonde hair, blue eyes, steady stream of jokes and compliments. No woman stood a chance.”
Ben smirked. “The bastard.”
“Meanwhile, you were steady. Confident. Hell, you’ve always been confident—just not when it comes to women.”
Ben gave him a flat look. “Thanks.”
Shane laughed, then sobered. “But like I was trying to say before, I know something about Charlie that you probably don’t. Something she loves to do.”
Ben froze and went deathly pale. “You guys never… you d-didn’t—?”
“Hook up? Oh hell, no,” Shane said, appalled. “King’s one of the guys. Always has been. I love her like a brother.”
Ben exhaled as the color returned to his face.
“No, this is something else. And believe me, you’re gonna beat a path to her door, double-time.” Shane’s mouth curved as he leaned in and told Ben what he knew.
Ben’s eyes narrowed. “You’re serious? You’re not messing with me?”
“Dead serious.” Shane told him, watching the shift—Ben’s posture straightened then relaxed. His expression softened. Eyes lit up. “There’s your in, brother.”
“You think so?”
“Dude. I know so.” Shane gave him a look. “So get over yourself and ask her out.”
Ben looked down at the sketch between them. Tapped the corner. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Yeah. Maybe I will.”
Shane tried to keep his hand from trembling. He watched April’s expression shift—confused, then wide-eyed, her mouth parting, breath catching, gaze locked on the velvet box in his fingers.
“Is… is that—?” Her eyes snapped to his, blinking hard.
He dropped to one knee as she gasped.
He opened the box.
The aquamarine caught the light—sky-colored, set low into a white gold band etched with a river that shimmered like it was in motion.
Shane looked up into her eyes.
“There is no doubt in my mind that you could hold up the entire sky by yourself if you had to, April. But I’m here to tell you—you don’t have to.
Not because you can’t, but because you shouldn’t have to.
Not all alone. Not as long as I’m back in your life.
I’m not here to tell you that you’re weak. I’m here to help you be strong.”
Her breath hitched.
“I wanted you to walk into that courtroom today wearing something that makes it clear you’re not alone,” he said.
“That Kevin has two parents who would go to war for him. That you have someone who’s not just fighting beside you, but building a life with you, if you’ll have me,” he said, as he blinked back tears.
“I love you. I’ve been in love with you since we were seventeen. ”
April nodded vigorously. “Me, too. I’ve loved you since we were seventeen, too. I could never forget you.” She bit her lower lip as a sob escaped her.
“So, April Taylor. Will you do me the great honor of being my wife?”
Tears spilled down her cheeks, but her smile shone through them.
“Yes,” she whispered. Then, louder, “Yes, Shane. Of course, yes. Yes!”
He slipped the ring onto her shaking hand.
She pulled him up into a kiss that said everything else didn’t matter—because she had her whole damn sky now, and he was right there under it with her.