Page 78 of Heartstrings & Horseshoes

Every year since I turned eighteen, I’ve asked the couple who owns it to sell it to me. And every year, they’ve told me no.

The husband died a few years back and I helped the wife with maintenance and upkeep until she passed earlier this year. I thought I finally had my chance. I was wrong. The couple had no children, so they gifted the home to the city to become a museum for Swiftwater history.

That was that. Delilah’s dream would never come true. Everything I did wasn’t enough.

All these years working my body into the ground was for nothing. I saved every spare penny to buy that house for her. The only thing I ever wanted was for her to be happy, and that house would make her happy. I was devastated I’d failed her so profoundly.

Reid’s giving me a second chance at making her dream come true. It may not be the house by the library, but it’ll be white and have a blue door. I’ll plant flowers by the porch and get a rocking chair that fits us both. I’ll install a white picket fence out front if she wants, even though Reid’s selling me two acres.

We’ll build our lives on the ranch we’ve both come to love, and put our blood, sweat, and tears into.

I’m going to make her my wife.

Delilah Hayes is the name that’s haunted my dreams for years and I’m going to make it a reality.

I remove the warm metal from my pocket, an old ring from Delilah’s jewelry box, one I know fits perfectly on her ring finger.

Reid recommended the jeweler that made Isabelle’s ring, and if I can leave unnoticed tomorrow morning, I’ll get to the jeweler and back in plenty of time.

I never thought her happiness would include me.

Now that I have her, I’m never letting her go.

36

“You got a tattoo for me?” I sit up, admiring Connors handsome face. The tattoo I’ve admired since his eighteenth birthday, was for me.

“I’ve gotten several tattoos for you. But the sun was first.” Connor brushes my sex-tousled hair from my face.

If there was any lingering doubt about Connor’s feelings for me, it just evaporated. The first thing he did when he turned eighteen was permanently mark his body with a symbol of me.

“So, does this mean I’m your girlfriend?”

The devotion in his chocolate eyes melts me. “Yea doll, you’re my girlfriend. You’re the sun in my sky and light of my life. I’ve been in love with you for so long, you’re woven into my soul. You’re so much more than my girlfriend—you’re my world. Always have been, always will be,” he vows.

“Delilah, you are mine just as much as I am yours. I need to hear you say it.”

I love him so much it hurts, but some of the pain releases when I say, “I am yours, and you are mine.”

“Mine,” he says, kissing my forehead.

“Is this really happening? I’m afraid to go to sleep because if I wake up and this was a dream, I’ll never recover.” My throat’s tight with emotion.

Connor pops the comforter open for us to slip beneath. I lay beside him, covered only from the waist down, uncharacteristically comfortable with my body on display. His eyes rove my naked skin, but only for a moment.

“Tomorrow when you wake up, I’ll be right here, holding you and kissing you good morning. I’ll remind you every day for the rest of our lives how real my love for you is. I’ll tell you with my words and prove my words with my actions.”

He motions for me to settle into the crook of his shoulder—my spot—and curls his strong arm around me.

“Go to sleep, doll. And trust me to still be in love with you when you wake up.”

Instead of the normal kiss to the top of my head, I tilt my face, and Connor places the sweetest kiss on my lips.

Connor Hayes is in love with me. He’s finally mine.

The frayed heartstring connecting us weaves back together like braided steel cable.

I fall asleep with his taste on my lips, dried evidence of his love on my skin, and peace in my heart.