Page 14 of The Rancher's Mail-Order Husband

Ciarán looked up, surprise flickering in his eyes. “Really?” he asked, his fingers absentmindedly fiddling with the jar.

“Yeah. Just for you,” Graham said, his voice unsteady with a mix of excitement and nerves.

“Thank you,” Ciarán murmured softly, but there was warmth in his tone that Graham hadn’t expected. “You’ve already given me so much.”

“Well,” Graham said, a bit sheepishly, “you haven’t seen it yet.”

When they arrived at the ranch, it was dark, the silhouettes of the land barely visible against the stars. It might have been better this way. Tomorrow, when the sun rose, he’d show Ciarán the animals, the flowers—the life they would begin building together. But tonight, tonight they could settle in, just the two of them, in their new home.

After helping Ciarán down from the buggy and leading Ginger to the stable, Graham turned back to find his husband waiting for him by the house, the jar of gumdrops held tightly to his chest like a child with a beloved toy.

“Did you want me to go in?” Ciarán asked hesitantly. “I didn’t want to go in without you. Um, sorry, I—”

“No, it’s—my fault,” Graham quickly responded, feeling a strange, inexplicable pang in his chest. “I should’ve—said something. We can go in now. Together.”

They stood there for a moment, facing each other, unsure of what to do next, but both silently understanding that this was the beginning of something far greater than either of them hadimagined. Finally, Graham cleared his throat, opening the door and stepping inside.

On the kitchen table, amidst the soft light of a single candle, sat the tea set.

Graham had agonized over picking it, worrying that he might have chosen wrong. There were so many patterns to choose from, so many styles, some ornate, others austere. But when he saw the pansy design—simple, elegant, with delicate blue blooms surrounding each cup and saucer, a golden trim dancing around the edges—he knew it was the one.

But now, standing there, watching Ciarán’s quiet gaze fall upon the set, a familiar doubt crept up inside Graham. He had spent so much time choosing the right gift, but what if it wasn’t enough? “Wasn’t sure what you’d like best,” he muttered. “I could return it if you don’t—”

“No!” Ciarán’s voice was immediate, almost scandalized. “No, please—I love it! It’s beautiful. It’s all... so beautiful. Thank you, Graham. I didn’t expect this. I don’t even know what I expected, but certainly not for you to go through all this trouble for me.”

Graham’s heart skipped a beat. “I promised I would take care of you,” he said softly.

“You did,” Ciarán responded, his voice gentle but full of emotion. “Thank you, Graham.”

Graham looked down, feeling a little embarrassed. “I ought to thank you some,” he muttered, but Ciarán shook his head.

“You’ve already given me more than I could have imagined,” he said, his eyes flicking over the tea set again before setting the gumdrops down and carefully placing the tea set next to it.

They spent the next few minutes unpacking the food and gifts, the house filling up with small, meaningful tokens ofaffection from friends. The crabapples were moved to the cellar, the extra plate of fadge set aside for breakfast. The space that had once seemed so quiet and lonely now felt full, alive, warm.

Ciarán took a deep breath, his eyes scanning the room with obvious satisfaction. Then, with a soft yawn, he apologized, “I’m sorry, that was rude of me.”

Graham shook his head, smiling. “You must be tired. I can clean up here. You go to bed.”

And then it hit him. He had been so caught up in the excitement of the day, he hadn’t even considered their sleeping arrangements.

The bed.

He froze. How could he have not thought of this? They had only just met, and yet they were married. Where would they sleep?

Before he could voice any of his concerns, Ciarán frowned. “Graham?”

“Sorry, just—thinking,” Graham said quickly. “You’ll have the bed. I’ll sleep in the barn.”

“Oh!” Ciarán looked surprised, clearly unsettled by the idea. “We won’t be—um, sharing the bed?”

Graham rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “It’s not the biggest bed, even for me. We’d be right on top of each other. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Ciarán blushed. “I see.”

“Don’t worry,” Graham assured him, though he felt awkward. “I’ll make another bed. A bigger one. It’ll take some time, but I’ll make it work.”

“You built your bed?” Ciarán asked, clearly intrigued.

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