Page 44 of Texas Legacy

Her mother lowered herself back to the cushioned seat and waited patiently.

Rawley straightened and slipped his hands into the back pockets of his pants. He shifted his feet, cleared his throat.

“What is it, boy?” her father asked, worry threaded through his voice, and she wondered if parents ever saw the children entrusted to their care as adults.

Placing her hand on his arm, she squeezed gently. “Just give him time.” Then she gave her attention back to her husband and let all the love she felt for him—a lifetime’s worth and beyond—reflect in her eyes. A corner of his mouth tilted up as he gave her a small nod before riveting his gaze on her father.

“Dallas, when I was a boy and you took me in, you offered to give me your name.”

“And you turned me down.”

“I didn’t think I was deserving of it.”

“That is such hogwa—”

She squeezed her father’s arm to silence him because she knew how difficult this moment was for Rawley, knew how very much it meant to him.

“Go on,” her father said brusquely.

Rawley gave another nod. “I’ve been thinking on it. And the thing is, I want my son”—he looked to where Callie was now rolling on the grass with Rufus—“mychildren”—he looked at Faith—“ourchildren to carry the name of my father. I was hoping that offer you made was still open and you’d give me the honor of taking on your name.”

“’Bout damn time, son,” her father said, his voice a little thready with emotion. “About damn time.”

Then he handed Jackson off to her, shoved himself to his feet, and drew Rawley into his embrace. Over her father’s shoulder, through the welling tears, she saw her husband’s tightly closed eyes, saw a single droplet of water trail along his cheek.

He’d told her in the late hours of the night what he wanted to do, had asked her permission because it affected her name, too. He wanted to adopt Callie, as well, be as much a father to her as he would be to their son. And she knew he’d finally put his past behind him, had finally come to understand that family was not defined by blood.

“If it weren’t Sunday, we’d head into town this minute and get the matter settled,” her father said. “We’ll do it first thing in the morning.”

When her father stepped back, her mother replaced him, hugging Rawley tightly. “You’ve made us both so happy.”

“It took me a while to see things right, to understand,” he said. “Callie’s as much mine as Jackson is.”

As though she heard her name, Callie suddenly came to attention and darted up the steps. “Papa! I want a hug, too!”

Someday, Faith figured she would have to explain everything about the man who’d played a role in her existence. But her father was, and always would be, Rawley.

With the children sleeping, and their parents sitting on the front porch enjoying the stars, Rawley slipped his arm around Faith and led her away from the house, toward the open prairie. As far as he could see was land that would one day belong to them, that they would pass down to their children.

“Things change and yet they seem to remain the same,” Faith said quietly.

“You’ll be Faith Leigh again.”

“I don’t care what my name is as long as you’re my husband.”

He chuckled low. “Rawley Leigh doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.”

“I like it.” Swinging around, she stopped his progress, standing in front of him, her arms around his waist, her hands pressed to his back. “I love you, Rawley. I will as long as there is air to breathe and sky to look up at.”

With one hand, he cradled her cheek. “I’ve loved you for so long, Faith, that I can’t remember a time when I didn’t.”

As he claimed her mouth while the fireflies danced around them, he realized the legacy he’d been given had nothing at all to do with land or cattle or the possibility of oil but had everything to do with love, with loving this woman.