Chapter 18 Beau
Beau
I went to Rhett and Willow’s under the pretense of getting camping supplies…but Rhett knew why I was actually there.
Noelle was still asleep when I left, tangled in my sheets with her hair sticking out in tufts of dark brown, Milo curled up in my pre-warmed spot and quickly growing accustomed to her snoring. I pressed a kiss to her shoulder before I went, then locked eyes with Milo.
“You keep an eye on her, y’hear?” I asked.
He huffed a sigh in response.
By the time I pulled up to Rhett and Willow’s the sun was already burning through the last of the morning fog, turning their front yard a vibrant gold. I could see Rhett through the front window, Hazel in his arms, and he came out onto the porch to meet me with a smile.
“You here for the ring?” he asked.
I rubbed the back of my neck. “That obvious?”
He grinned. “Come on in.”
I followed him through the front door, the scent of breakfast wafting over from the kitchen. Willow leaned through the doorway, spatula in hand. “Morning, Beau!”
“Mornin’,” I said, raising my hand.
Her eyes flitted to Rhett, who grinned; Willow grinned back.
“Already?” she said.
“Just uh…want it handy, just in case,” I said. Jesus…this was one of the downsides to proposing with a family heirloom.
Everyone was in my damn business.
Willow winked. “Don’t forget to eat something first. Big day, even if she doesn’t know it yet.”
I felt my ears go hot as I ducked my head and followed Rhett up the stairs, Hazel bouncing on his hip like a particularly chatty sack of potatoes. She made a high-pitched squeal when she saw me, then buried her face in Rhett’s shoulder like she was in on the secret.
The extra bedroom was just the way I remembered it—soft light filtering through the curtains, the air holding that faint floral note that always lingered around Grandma Hazel’s old things. It smelled like dried roses and cedarwood and whatever ghost of magic Grandma had left behind.
The jewelry box sat in the middle of the vanity, looking the same as it always had: like it held secrets.
I had no idea where Grandma had gotten it, but it was gorgeous: carved oak, brass hinges, stars and moons etched into the lid.
A hexafoil sat in the center, where Grandma used to press her thumb when she was in a mood to impress us with something strange.
But it felt…different.
“Go on and take a seat,” Rhett said, gesturing toward the vanity. “The box’ll take it from there.”
“Are you serious?”
Hazel let out a delighted little squeal, clapping her hands together.
“Pretty sure she just ordered you to sit, Uncle Beau,” Rhett said.
I laughed under my breath and eased into the chair, the old wood creaking beneath me. Hazel kicked her little legs like this was her favorite show.
“I swear she’s been here before,” I muttered.
“She has,” Rhett said, settling onto the edge of the bed. “Don’t remember it, but that girl’s got old soul energy.”
I reached out and brushed my fingers over the lid of the box. The engravings caught the light—moons and stars, vines curling toward the center. My thumb landed on the hexafoil without thinking.
Nothing happened.
I frowned, tried again. Still nothing.
“I thought Silas said that was the button.”
Rhett shrugged, bouncing Hazel gently on his knee. “Maybe it was for him.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works.”
“As if the rules apply where Grandma Hazel is concerned,” Rhett chuckled. He looked down at his daughter, who was mostly interested in trying to stick her entire fist in her mouth at that moment. “You wanna give your uncle a hand, sweetpea?”
Hazel yanked her hand from her mouth with a delighted squeal and leaned toward the box like she was accepting a divine mission. Rhett scooted her a little closer, and with one determined little grunt, she slapped her palm against the left side of the jewelry box.
Click.
A panel I hadn’t even noticed before—flush with the side, smooth as the rest of the wood—slid open with a soft mechanical sigh, like the box had been holding its breath.
I blinked.
Inside was a single ring.
Silas had told the story enough times that it struck me as odd—and Rhett had confirmed. The box was supposed to open from the top…there were supposed to be three remaining rings, as if Hazel had picked them out for us before she died.
But no—there was just one.
And I couldn’t have imagined anything more Noelle than this.
The ring was nestled in a cushion of green velvet, a silver band set with an unusually dark amethyst in the center. Two pale moonstones bracketed it, catching the morning light in their opalescent depths.
“Silas said the whole box opened,” I said.
Rhett nodded. “It did, gave us the whole spread. Guess the message was delivered…and now she wants you to have something more specific.”
I picked up the ring.
It was cool, heavy…absolutely beautiful in that same wicked way Noelle had about her. I turned it over to sit in my palm, the amethyst lighting up in a sunbeam.
“Yeah,” I said. “That’s her.”
Hazel let out a happy squawk and kicked her legs, clearly pleased with herself—as if she’d done this.
I guessed that wasn’t any more preposterous than our dead grandmother picking the rings out before she passed, well before she met any of our wives.
Regardless, I gave little Hazel a grateful nod before reaching into my pocket to grab the little box I’d bought from the antique shop on the way here, then put the ring inside.
“You know when you’re gonna ask?” Rhett said.
“No clue,” I said. “Don’t have a plan…just thought I’d ask when the moment feels right.”
Hazel was getting sleepy now, her earlier squeals fading into soft whines. Rhett shifted her on his hip and stood, walking toward the door. I followed, casting one last glance at the jewelry box.
The panel was closed again.
Like it had never been open at all.
We headed back down the stairs, the creak of wood underfoot, the smell of toast and coffee filling my lungs.
Willow was still in the kitchen, humming some old Dolly Parton song and scooping scrambled eggs onto plates.
It sent a jolt through me when I realized the song was the same one that had been playing the first time I kissed Noelle… as if Willow somehow knew.
“You get what you came for?” she asked without turning around.
I glanced at Rhett. He just smirked.
“Yeah,” I said. “I did.”
She handed me a plate like she’d been expecting that answer. “Eat first. Then go get your girl.”
I grinned and took the plate, then we sat down to talk about other things…the weather, the trip this week, whether Whit would ever settle down.
And…I wasn’t worried.
Because I didn’t need a grand plan or a perfect line or a goddamn scavenger hunt across town. I didn’t even need to wait.
I just needed her.
And now I had everything I needed to tell her that.