I’m taken back by his request, and more than a little humbled. “Of course.” I respond, nodding.

I spend the next thirty minutes teaching him how to saddle Lady then watch as he sits atop her proudly while she walks around the corral, a huge smile on his young face. It’s a bittersweet moment; I want to ride her again more than anything.

He leads the horse back to me and carefully jumps down. I smile as he sits on the grass beside my chair and pulls at the individual blades with his fingers. “So, how’s life at Ruth’s?” I ask as casually as I can.

“It’s great,” he replies enthusiastically. “Ruth is so funny, and very pretty.”

I smile at that. I’m pretty certain every man in the world, both young and old, thinks Ruth is beautiful. “So, do you think you can find it in your heart to come home?” I watch his face carefully as I ask the question, looking for any clue as to what he’s thinking.

“Dad hates me,” he says, shaking his head.

“Oh, sweetie,” I exclaim, touching his arm gently. “Your dad doesn’t hate you at all. He just hasn’t been a father before, so this is all so new to him.”

Zeke nods in understanding. “It’s new to me, too.”

“Will you come home, and give him a chance?”

To my surprise, he doesn’t say no straightaway. “If I go home,” he says slowly, “will you be there?”

“I will, for a while,” I answer.

“Can I ride Lady?” he asks, patting the horse’s nose once more.

I can’t help but laugh. “As often as you’d like.”

He seems to think about it for another moment then slowly nods. “All right,” he agrees. “If you promise you’ll be there, I’ll go home.”

“I promise,” I say, unable to wipe the smile off my face. “You won’t have to do this alone. You have a whole town behind you, and we look after our own.”

“But I’m an outsider,” Zeke tells me, suddenly looking fearful. “Won’t they hate me?”

My heart goes out to this poor boy, screaming out for just a little bit of love and understanding.

“Let me tell you something,” I start, adjusting myself in my wheelchair. He looks at me, interested. “Your mother was born and raised here, and so was your daddy.”

“They were?” Zeke’s eyes are huge, as though he finds it hard to believe that such a story could be real.

“Yep.” I nod. “Not very far from here, actually.”

“How do you know?” he asks.

“It’s a small town,” I explain. “News travels fast. Your momma and daddy loved each other very much when they were younger,” I continue, though imagining Stone as a lovesick teenager isn’t an easy feat to accomplish.

“So, what happened?” Zeke presses.

“Your granddaddy was in the Army,” I say with a smile. “And so was his daddy before him. It’s in your blood. When the attacks happened on 9/11, your daddy decided he had to go fight to protect his country, his wife.”

“What about me?”

“They didn’t know your momma was pregnant. She was so mad at him for leaving. She couldn’t understand that he was fighting for your freedom.”

“But if he loved her so much, why didn’t he come back?”

For a moment, I can’t think of a way to answer his question. How do you explain to a child the horrors of war? I decide the explanation is best left to his father. “I don’t know, sweetie,” I admit, leaning over and brushing a strand of blond hair off his forehead. “I suppose he couldn’t, for a while.”

“Do you think he’d tell me, if I ask?”

I smile. “You know what? I’ll bet you’re the only person he wants to tell.”

“Really?” Zeke asks, his eyes full of hope.

“Really,” I affirm, nodding eagerly. “But you’ll have to come home and ask him yourself.”

“All right,” he says with a tremulous smile. “I’ll give it a go.”

I can’t help but lean down and give him a tight, quick hug around his shoulders. But I’m surprised when he latches on to me, hugging me tight. “Thanks Shan,” he says, his voice muffled against my shirt. Tears spring to my eyes at the breakthrough. “It’s gonna be okay,” I whisper, placing a soft kiss against his hair.

 

Normally, I’d be craving a beer by now, but not tonight.

I’m standing on the back porch, staring up at the clear night sky. The rain is gone, and the sky is lit up with a million diamond-like stars.

The voices in my head are quiet, and my body is relaxed. I don’t know how she’s done it, but Shannon has brought my son home. When I picked her up from the stables, I was shocked to find her with Zeke. I was even more shocked when she told me he wanted to come home. He had a lot of questions, but I held nothing back. For the first time in my life, I wanted someone other than Keets to know about my past. I held back the worst details, glossed over them so as not to frighten him and ruin any kind of improvement we’ve made. I think he sensed it, but he didn’t say anything. Shannon sat right by me, holding my hand as I revealed details about my life that, until now, had remained a mystery. She tightened her grip as I spoke about the young girl, and cried for me when I spoke about the torture I’d endured for so many months.

As if my thoughts had somehow conjured her up, I hear the glass sliding door open and, a second later, the squeak of the wheels on her chair. “How are you doing?” she asks, looking up at me.

I smile and move to sit on the couch at the other end of the porch. “Better, I think,” I respond, glancing up as she wheels toward me. “How’s Zeke?”

“Sleeping,” she says with a smile. “Listen, Stone. About everything you told us tonight. I—”

“Ahh, I really don’t want to talk about it,” I cut her off.

“Why not?” she asks. “Stone, you can’t keep this bottled up forever. Dr. James said—”

“Shannon,” I interrupt again, a little sharper than I intend. “Please, I don’t want to talk about it.”

Her eyes search mine for a few minutes, and then she finally nods. “Okay,” she agrees gently. “It’s okay.”

“Look.” I sigh, raking a hand over my head. “It’s late, and I’m tired. We can talk about this tomorrow.” I stand up and move past her.

I’m almost at the door when her voice stops me. “Stone?”

“Yeah?” I ask, turning to face her.

She turns her wheelchair around and lifts her head to look at me. “Last night, at dinner . . . when you . . . you . . .”

“Proposed?” I prompt gently.

She nods. “Were you serious?”

“I was.”

She’s silent for a few minutes, not looking at me. I’m ready to turn around and walk away again when she finally speaks. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry?” I say. “Did you say ‘okay’?”

She nods again. “I’ll marry you.”

I release a shaky breath. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” I ask, watching her carefully. A part of me is screaming for joy, while the other, more rational side is telling me not to get my hopes up too much.

“Yeah,” she replies with a small smile.

I’m at her side in three steps, squatting down in front of her, gripping her hands. “Look at me,” I say quietly. She looks up, and I free one hand long enough to brush the hair out of her face. “Thank you,” I whisper, brushing her forehead with a feather-light kiss.

“For what?” she asks, sounding confused.

“For trusting me,” I answer. “I promise with every fiber of my being that I’ll take care of you.”

“You’d better,” she says with a shaky smile.

I enfold her in my arms. She rests her head against my chest through my t-shirt, and I bury my face in her hair. She smells so damn good, like a combination of vanilla and passion fruit. My cock stirs in my jeans, but I fight down the urge to take her into the bedroom and make love to her all night long. Now’s not the time for thinking those sorts of things.

She leans back with a smile. “What will we tell Zeke?” she asks.