But listening to her belt out heart-breaking lyrics into the wind in a voice that was pure and sweet unleashed a wave of pride in me that may never be duplicated. Not just because of her talent, but because of the risk she took to conquer that fear.

Whitney Gable is truly the most extraordinary woman I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. I’m the luckiest man in the whole goddamned world that she’s wearing my ring and is going to spend the rest of her life with me.

I knew she was special the day she walked into that bar, but I didn’t know she was the one until I lost her. I paid for that for ten years, and then I almost fucked it up again.

“I will never deserve you,” I tell her as I wipe the tears away from her face. “But I’ll never stop trying.”

Her tears fall faster as my lips take hers, and in the moonlight, beneath the stars, I seal that vow with a kiss. When I pull away, Whitney’s tears slow.

“I love you, Lincoln.”

“I love you more, so goddamn much.” I wrap my arms around her waist and pick her up, carrying her away from the fire and back toward the house.

From behind us, I hear Cricket laugh.

“So, what does everyone think about a double wedding?”

I’m too busy carrying Whitney in my arms and taking her to bed to answer.

Forty-One

Whitney

The last time my phone rang on this island with a call from Jackie, all hell broke loose. When I stare down at it on the breakfast bar and see her name on the display, the last thing I want to do is answer it and shatter the peace we’ve finally found.

The island and Blue House have healed us all in a way that I couldn’t have predicted. The sparkle of the ring on my finger tells me that I didn’t make it up. All of this is real.

The phone vibrates again, and I know I have no choice but to answer.

“Hey, Jackie, everything okay back at the ranch?” I inject as much lightness into my tone as possible, as if I’m hoping that will influence the direction of the call.

“You need to come back. Both you and Cricket.” My aunt, who is normally rock solid and calm, even in the face of disaster, bursts into a sob.

I look over to where Cricket and Hunter sit by the pool, his arms wrapped loosely around her as the wind blows her brown hair. Goose bumps rise on my arms.

I knew I didn’t want to answer this call.

“What’s going on?” I try to keep my tone calm, but even I can hear the panic creeping in.

“Karma . . . she’s in the hospital.”

Oh Jesus. What now? “Is it the baby?”

“There’s no baby, Whit. She . . . she thought she was pregnant, but . . .”