A Rancher's Pride(67)

“Give the idea some thought.” His laugh sounded as shaky as his voice had a moment ago. “If I can learn to sign with Becky, maybe you can learn to love me.”

“No,” she said softly, “it’s too late.”

For a moment, he felt his heart stop. Then it started up again, just as strong and steady as his determination. He couldn’t settle for her answer. He wouldn’t. “I thought it was too late when it came to learning to talk to my own daughter. But you proved me wrong.” Though he clenched his fist around the ring, he barely felt the diamond biting into his palm. “Give me some time to prove myself to you.”

She shook her head. “I don’t need time. I need you.”

The words rocked him nearly off his feet. He filled his chest with a breath so deep, he thought the snaps on his Western shirt would fly open.

“It’s too late to learn to love you, Sam, because I already do.”

He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, but he couldn’t hold back a smile. “And were you planning to tell me, someday?”

“I…” She turned her head away.

Gently, he touched her chin and turned her to face him again. “What is it?”

“I thought…with our history. With all the stories I’d believed from…” She trailed off again.

“No need to think about that at all. That’s one part of the past I’ve already forgotten,” he told her honestly. “You’re the only woman for me, Kayla. And the only mother I want for Becky—and for the rest of our kids.” He opened his arms wide.

“The rest—?” Even as she laughed, she shook her head. “Hold on a minute there, cowboy. It sounds like you’ve got a long-term plan.”

“Not long-term. Permanent.”

“In that case, shouldn’t we make it official, too?” She wiggled the fingers of her left hand.

“We should.” He motioned for Becky to join them. She stood by his side, watching wide-eyed as he slipped the solitaire onto Kayla’s ring finger. “Kayla, will you marry us?”

Looking at Becky, she signed the words and explained their meaning. It pleased him to have her think of his daughter right away. It pleased him just as much to see Becky grin.

Finally, Kayla turned back to Sam and bobbed her fist in the air emphatically. “Yes!”

This time, when he held his arms wide, she stepped into his embrace without a moment’s hesitation.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Becky waving her hands in the silent gesture of applause.





Epilogue





One month later



Kayla looked around the café.

She and Sam, Dori had assured them, would have the best wedding reception Flagman’s Folly had ever seen, right there at the Double S.

She’d certainly lived up to her promise.

Tables and chairs had been rearranged to create a spacious dance floor. Food and drink appeared without end. The doors and windows had been flung wide to let in the music from the quartet playing out on the patio. The mixture of mariachi tunes and old favorites kept everyone dancing.

Kayla’s parents took yet another turn around the room. Over in one corner, Lianne was holding court, with a couple of cowboys around her and Jack standing in the wings.

At the edge of the dance floor, Sam stood holding Becky’s hand.

Her heart swelling, Kayla watched him go down on one knee before Becky.

In halting but clear signs, he told her that they were now one family. “Daddy. Mommy-Kayla. And Becky.”

Her niece—no. Their daughter reached up and wrapped her hands around Sam’s neck. He rose and swung in a circle, holding Becky close. When he set her on the floor again, they exchanged a special message. Kayla had taught Sam the signs for the individual words weeks ago, but it was only last night that she and Becky had surprised him and taught him the special handshape.

Now, Sam and Becky each held one hand upright, their palms directed toward each other, fingers spread, the middle and ring fingers tucked down against their palms.

“I love you.”

Kayla’s eyes misted.

They turned, flashing their hands her way.

A tear trickled down her cheek. She returned the sign, then reached into her sleeve for the dainty hand-embroidered handkerchief Sharleen had delivered to her from Ellamae early that morning. A blue handkerchief, taking care of the something blue.