Page 88 of A Sunny Sweetheart for the Cowboy

Weston could believe it. He closed his eyes, trying to center himself while he listened. Wait. Amid the flourishes, wasn’t that “Trading My Sorrows?” The words from the beloved worship song flooded through his mind at the reminder that God’s joy would be his strength, no matter any sadness and shame. No matter the sickness and pain. All he needed to say was, “Yes, Lord.”

“Yes, Lord,” he whispered into the night. He’d been a nervous wreck all evening, ever since their kisses had been interrupted earlier. He knew what he intended to do this evening, but he couldn’t help wondering if he was jumping the gun.

Now peace filtered into his soul as the voices of Paisley and her friends neared along the lodge’s wide deck.

“There you are!” Paisley exclaimed. “See you guys later.”

The others jogged down the steps with a smile and a wave, leaving Weston to stand and wrap his arms around Paisley. “I thought this was a good spot again.”

“It’s perfect.” She smiled up at him.

He pressed his lips to hers and groaned. Oh, the things she did to him. “I like being out of the way and having you to myself.”

“I like it, too.” She surrendered to his kisses.

Weston couldn’t wait a second longer. He cradled her face between his palms and looked deeply into her eyes. “Paisley, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

Were those tears welling in her eyes? He wiped her cheeks with his thumbs. “Sweetheart, don’t cry. I… I have a question for you.”

“The answer is always yes.”

“You don’t even know?—”

“Does it matter?”

“It should.” He nuzzled her forehead then took a deep breath and let it out. He started dropping to one knee and nearly tumbled off the steps.

Paisley caught him and steadied him. “You okay?”

He couldn’t believe he’d all but forgotten where he was. “Only my pride is damaged.”

“What did you want to ask?”

Weston took great care balancing himself as he lowered to one knee then pulled the small box from his pocket. How had she not even felt it between them in all those close dances? “Paisley Jane Teele, I love you, and I’d like to spend the rest of my life showing you how much. Would you marry me?”

Paisley squealed, both hands flying to cover her cheeks.

Thankfully he kept his balance even without her grip.

Camera flashes went off, and Weston tried not to grimace. Cadence was right here, recording everything for posterity, including his stumble.

“Oh, Weston! Yes! Yes, I’d love to marry you. I love you so much.” Paisley bent to kiss him.

He surged upward and stepped onto the lodge deck to twirl her around while he kissed her. The beautiful, flowered skirt she’d worn for the dance swirled around them, and he filled his senses with the taste of her, the scent of her perfume, the caress of the gentle breeze off the lake, the sounds of… clapping?

“Congrats, bro!” Jude hollered.

Weston set Paisley on her feet but didn’t relinquish his grip. “I love you,” he whispered against her mouth.

“Love you more, cowboy.”

It couldn’t be possible, could it? How could anyone love more than that swelling in his chest at the thought of the decades in front of them to have and to hold each other?

“Let’s see the ring!” Cadence called.

The ring. The box had been in his hand. What had he done with it? Oh. It was still there, somehow. He brought it between them and tipped the lid to show Paisley his selection.

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