Page 51 of Strawberry Moon

She was in every sweet bite of her mama’s strawberry jam. In the crinkles at the corner of her daddy’s eyes every time he smiled. She was in my memory—her pretty grin, the way she’d flutter her lashes at me and I’d go red in the face. My Lily had been smart and fierce and sweet as anything.

We’d lost her. That’d never stop hurting. It’d never be fair.

But as much as I wanted to some days, I didn’t just keel over and die of sadness. We all kept right on living, with her in our hearts.

That tree on the hill was right pretty, with its fresh green leaves and winding branches. Only, I’d never find Lily there, never see her glaring my way for messing up. My Lily didn’t glare over things like that, things that made me happy. And if I loosened my grip on her, just a little, that wouldn’t mean she was gone for good. Not while there was any goodness left in my messy, tangled heart.

Now, I just had to hope I hadn’t waited too long and squandered my last real shot at happiness in this life.

Barbara was keeping me busy with errands off the farm, trying to get me out more. Once, I even swung by Grove House to check in with Linden, but Archer wasn’t there. He’d been working.

I could’ve called, but I’d never done that out of the blue, and this didn’t feel like a conversation to have over the phone.

If he was going to tell me to go fuck myself, I’d just as soon he do it to my face, where he had half a chance of seeing how sorry I was for fumbling when he needed me. Barbara was right—it was an alpha’s job to care for their mate and their pack, and I’d spent so long scared my wolf was going to break my tenuous control and tear through everybody in my grief, I’d forgotten to listen to it.

Even when it was right, and who I truly needed was there asking for me, maybe even needed me as much as I needed him.

On Wednesday, Barbara sent me out for some extra feed from the store. Some of the eggs had started wiggling. They were getting ready to hatch, and she wanted to be well prepared for the tiny chicks.

Only, when I got downtown, the hardware store was locked up. The lights were on, but a sign had been taped to the inside of the door that said Cliff was out for lunch. He’d be back after.

“You all right, Ford?” Greta Hagen called from across the street when she saw me lingering in front of the shop.

“Yes, ma’am.” I nodded her way, content enough to sit in the back of my truck and wait for Cliff to get back. It was pushing two o’clock and couldn’t be that long.

“I think he went down to The Cider House. You could probably catch him if you’re in a rush.”

Thing was, I wasn’t. But a cider sounded mighty nice right then, and I liked Cliff a lot. Maybe I could use someone to talk to. Or he could, and I could feel like something other than a messy lump of crap for once.

When I got to The Cider House, the place was weirdly full for this late in the lunch window. Linden and Colt were over in a booth eating a cozy lunch together. Aspen and Brook were seated at the bar with Juniper, griping over a tennis match. Talin frowned my way when the door opened, but her expression cleared when she saw it was me. Or when Shiloh brushed against her arm. It was hard to tell.

Right there in the middle of the dining room, Cliff and Rowan sat together at a four top.

There was plenty of space for me, but I didn’t want to join the couple. There was something in the air around them—something intimate that didn’t invite interlopers.

Though I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what it was, my breath caught when Cliff pushed back his chair. He went to one knee right there on the bar’s worn wooden floor.

“What are you doing?” Rowan whispered, wide eyed and leaning forward, as if every person in the place hadn’t turned to look at them. The television had suddenly gone blank, and every single person there turned to listen to them.

“Something I should’ve done years ago, Ro.” Cliff was beaming up at him, his brown eyes sparkling bright.

Rowan had gone red in the face. He was clutching his chest, blinking too fast against tears in his eyes, while Cliff produced a small velvet box from his jeans pocket.

“Ro, sweetheart—”

Rowan’s hand had covered his mouth, but already, he was nodding. Hard. Tears glistened in his eyes now, but they didn’t spill over. “Uh huh.”

I wasn’t sure if that was an answer or not, but Cliff marched on, determined to ask the question properly.

“I’ve loved you my whole life. All the years that mattered. The best part of my day is waking up, knowing I’ll get to see you. Hold your hand. Eat your pies.”

Aspen whooped, wiggling his eyebrows, but Rowan didn’t even notice. He let out a wet little laugh, his head still bouncing.Yes, yes, yes.

“And I wanted to ask you,” Cliff continued, “if you’d give me that joy every single day for the rest of my life. Will you marry me, Rowan Grove? Will you be my mate and my husband?”

Rowan’s head only stopped bouncing when he sucked in a hard breath. In one swift move, he threw himself out of his chair and knelt on the floor with Cliff. The poor alpha almost lost his balance when Rowan pulled him in, squeezing him tight, searching out his lips while tears streamed down his cheeks.

“Yes. Forever yes. Always.” Rowan’s whisper carried a tremble.

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