Page 107 of Play Maker

“Kolby’s asking about land,” Ryan says.

“And Lo,” I add. “Officially.”

Daniel narrows his eyes. “You knocking her up?”

I cough. “No, sir.” The truth is, we’re not doing everything to prevent it either.

He takes a sip of his coffee. “Planning on it?”

I glance at Ryan, who looks like he’senjoying this too much, then back at Daniel. “I hope so. One day soon,” I say, steady and sure. “As many as she wants. Or none, if that’s what she decides.”

Daniel nods, like he approves of the answer. “Good. We don’t raise women around here just to be barefoot and overwhelmed. But if shedoeswant them”—he leans in slightly—“you ready to be the man who never makes them wonder what love looks like?”

My throat tightens. “I’ll show them every day.”

He stares at me a second longer then mutters, “All right then,” and shuffles back inside.

Ryan smirks. “Congratulations. You survived.”

I breathe out a laugh.

He claps me on the back—hard. “I’ll get you the survey maps. You pick the view. She already pickedyou.”

“No, you won’t.” Daniel appears again and hands me a drawing in crayon that carries age.

“This is Lauren Jane’s dream house. Loves watching the horses, skipping rocks in the pond, and comes up every spring to make sure her grandmother’s flowerbeds are ready to hold all the beauty they become. Means something to her, so do you.” He sighs as he looks off in the horizon. “I want a cabin on the edge of the property?—”

“Dad, we?—”

“Son, I know what I want. He came here, asking what she wants, and I’m telling you, your mom, she’d want those flowers tended to.”

“It’s a big house,” Ryan says.

Dan shrugs. “He works part time. Has more than half a year off. He’s got time.” He then walks back inside.

“Don’t feel obligated,” Ryan says, looking out over the field.

“This doesn’t feel like an obligation; it feels a lot like a gift.”

“Special place.” Ryan nods.

“Special girl,” I add. “You think she’ll want to leave the silo?”

“No, but you can’t truly live in two places at one time, can you?”

That wasn’t a question; it was a statement.

“I agree.”

He wipes the sweat from his brow. “When do you plan on doing this?”

“As soon as you give me the okay.”

He nods to the driveway as a vehicle pulls up. “That would be my wife and daughter bringing more bulbs for those beds. You got the ring with you, son?”

“Yes, I do.”

He chuckles. “Then I’d take that as a sign.”

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