Page 42 of Nate Hayes

He took a deep breath, voice rough. “I swore that if I ever got out, I’d find somethinggood. I wouldn’t waste it. I’d stop running.”

Tears slipped down Willa’s cheeks as she reached across the seat and touched his jaw. “I’m so sorry you went through that.”

He leaned into her palm. “When I got home, I was different. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t talk about it. I flinched every time someone knocked on a door too loud. I didn’t think I’d ever feel normal again.”

Her other hand joined the first, cradling his face. “You hide it well.”

“I was hiding it from myself too.”

He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes. “But then I met you.”

Willa’s breath caught.

“You were out there with soap in your basket and a goat tied to your truck, looking like you had your own world and didn’t need anyone. But you let me in anyway. You were patient. Kind.You never made me feel broken. And without even trying, you made mewantto be better.”

Tears slid down her cheeks freely now. “Nate…”

He unbuckled and stepped out of the truck, walking around to her side. When she opened the door, he pulled her into his arms and held her like she was air in his lungs.

“I don’t want to waste any more time, Willa. Not a single second. I’ve already lost too much.”

She looked up at him, eyes shimmering. “What are you saying?”

Nate dropped to one knee, right there under the stars in front of her farmhouse, with the soft sound of crickets and goats in the background.

“I’m saying I love you. I want all your mornings. All your soap scents. All your goat-related chaos. I wantyou.Will you marry me?”

Willa didn’t hesitate. She dropped to her knees too and kissed him, cupping his face, their tears mixing between soft laughter and the sweetest kiss of his life.

“Yes,” she whispered against his lips. “Yes, Nate. A thousand times, yes.”

From the back of the truck, Pancake bleated dramatically.

“I think she approves,” Willa said with a watery smile.

“She’d better. She’s in the wedding.”

24

Willa

The next morning, I woke up with Nate’s ring on my finger and Pancake snoring in the doorway like a bodyguard who’d clocked out.

By noon, the entire mountain knew we were engaged. I hadn’t even posted about it—Grandma Hayes did.

The caption read:

“My grandson is finally getting married. Took him long enough. The wedding’s happening. Try to behave.”

We hadn’t even picked a date. But that didn’t stop the wedding train from rolling in hot.

“I’m thinking mason jars,”Tessa said, spreading out swatches of lace and greenery across my kitchen table like she was preparing for a military op. “And twinkle lights. Lots of twinkle lights.”

“I was thinking simple,” I said. “Maybe just a few—”

“Oh honey,” Grandma said from her perch in the rocking chair. “Simple is what you do when the bride is plain and the groom is forgettable. This ain’t that.”

“I second the twinkle lights,” Nate added as he walked past with a sandwich in one hand and Pancake in the other. “She wants in on the rehearsal dinner, by the way.”

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