Page 20 of The Cowboy's Friendly Wake-Up Call

"Speakin' of getting married," Lance slides his hand into his pocket and casually hands me a small box. "I figured you'd skin me alive if I got fancy about this."

Inside the box is a simple ring with a small diamond set in a low profile setting. It's perfect, like it was picked out by my best friend in the whole world.

Slipping it on my finger without fanfare, I wrap my arm around Lancer's waist and snuggle into the space under the arm that wraps around my shoulders.

I know I don't have to give him an answer any more than he asked the question.

We've been a done deal for years.

Epilogue 2

Fifteen Years Later

Lance

Money changes hands between me and the guys, settling up on the good-natured bets we made on whose kid was taking what ribbons at this year's fair.

Of course, it's not just me and my brothers anymore; with all of us having kids coming up together in the valley now, families became friends over time, and friends became family.

"Scout is gonna wipe the stalls with your boy's ass next year," Ranger grumbles as he hands a hundred across the circle of men gathered behind the livestock barns.

Rebel Ralston takes the bills from my brother's hand with a grin that says he's willing to bet against my nephew again next year.

Gunner passes a plastic shot glass my way, waiting while I pocket the cash won from betting on my own kids.

The twins are in high school now, enjoying pranking teachers that can't tell them apart, and already spending more time texting girls than their mother knows how to handle. They bothtook ribbons for their heifers this year, while Gracie was all smiles when she saw the fancy rosette pinned to her lop-eared rabbit's hutch for best in show.

Grace is eleven now and this is her first year showing in the fair. There's been no shutting her up around the house as she ruthlessly reminds her brothers that best in show beats first prize.

When the shot glasses have been passed around, Gunner toasts our dad.

"Fifteen years, four daughters-in-law, thirteen grand-children, mended fences, and buried hatchets--" eyes look between the Ralstons among us and the Singers, who raise their own tiny glasses toward one another-- "To Kevin O'Leary."

Plastic glasses touch in the middle of the circle as a low chorus of sentiments is mumbled in honor of my father.

"He wouldn't have believed a damn word of it."

We buried pop fifteen years ago and the pessimistic observation made by Beryl Pereira is nose on. The old man wouldn't have believed one bit of the way things have gone since he left us. But that's a bet we'll settle up with him when the time comes.

Right now, I'm headed back to the house where I've been living happily ever after with my best friend for most of those fifteen years.

The kids all have plans to stay with friends tonight and I plan on taking full advantage of having the house alone with Mercy and her sweet curvy body that still gets me riled up like a damn teenager.

I'm never going to be done making up for lost time when my best friend should have already been my wife.

---