She nodded and gave him a sweet, watery smile. “I’m staying. Even if you’re too stubborn to date me. I’ll make it awkward as hell at the general store and Cowboy Jake’s. I’ll probably still be invited to your parents’ house for cookouts and brunch. You can still have the greenhouse, the barn. But I’ll charge you an astronomical amount of rent to remind you every month or so that you could have had me, too.”

“You about done?”

“About. I just need you to turn the last page.”

He bent down and picked up the sheets he’d dropped. Then he grinned. There, taped to the last page, was a crisp five-dollar bill.

“You win,” she whispered.

He dropped the papers and reached into his pocket. “Maggie Nichols…”

“Holy shit. Are you seriously about to overshadow my grand gesture?” The hand she brought to her mouth was shaking.

He paused, midkneel. “You’re damn right I am.”

“Don’t you dare propose. I haven’t even told you about the sign. About Ava and Wallace. And my dad. You deserve to know everything before you do whatever crazy thing it is you’re about to do.”

“After,” he said, sinking down to one knee and holding the ring that had been burning a hole in his damn pocket since he’d arrived. “Maggie Nichols, will you do me the great honor of putting up with me for the rest of your life? Will you let me love you? Will you be my wife and partner and best friend?”

“Dammit! That’s a lot nicer than five dollars and a dumb greenhouse,” she whispered, eyeing the diamond solitaire.

“Maggie, say yes right now or I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

“Can I say yes and still not hold you responsible for your actions? Because I’d really like that.”

He surged up, lifting her high and wrapping her legs around his waist.

“Wait, Silas!” Her laugh was breathless. “There’s something you really need to know.”

“Did you murder a bunch of people for money?” he asked.

“No.”

“Then I think it can wait.”

“My mom loved your energy,” she said.

He stilled. “What?”

She pointed to the picture he hadn’t noticed until now. The framed one she kept in her bedroom of her mom laughing.

“Look at the picture, Silas,” she whispered.

He picked it up rather than putting her down because he wasn’t ready to be without Maggie Nichols in his arms for a good, long time.

“She’s beautiful,” he told her.

“Look at what she’s smiling at,” she insisted.

He looked closer, and the recognition dawned slowly. “Wait. Is that—”