Page 20

"She's good at everything."

"You got it?"

I touch the folded paper in my inside pocket. The small box in the other one. My heart slams against both.

"I got it."

"Mabel's been standing by the biscuit table for an hour pretending she's not watching you." He nods toward the crowd. "Better do it before she has a stroke."

Mona finally stops moving. She comes toward the fire, rubbing her hands together, and her face lights up when she spots me. Sergeant spots her too. He abandons my side to lean on her shins, and she laughs and scratches his ears.

"Hey, Sheriff."

"Undersheriff."

"You'll always be the sheriff to me." She tucks herself against my side and steals my coffee. "The committee wants to do a summer one now. Can you believe that? A whole summer festival. I told them I'd think about it."

"You already said yes."

"I already said yes." She grins up at me, cheeks pink from cold. "What's that face?"

"What face?"

"That one. You look like you're about to arrest somebody."

I take the paper out of my pocket and hand it to her. She knows the form by heart now. She's filed a hundred of them since fall. Her eyes flick to the header, then down the page, and I watch her face go still.

Event Name: The Wedding of Ramona Vega and Josiah Crane. Location: Bear Creek Community Church. Date: First Saturday in June. Catering: Mabel Sutton. Officiant: Pastor Luke. Coordinator: None required. Purpose of Event: He'd like to marry her, if she'll have him.

She reads it twice. Her hand starts to shake.

"It's all done," I say, low, so it's just for her. "Pastor Luke's booked. Mabel's already arguing with Hank about the menu. Your mama knows. Lena's flying in. I filled out every page and didn't leave a single gap." I swallow. "You don't have to plan a thing, sweetheart. You planned one wedding and had to cancel it alone. You don't have to do that again. All you gotta do is show up. I'll already be there waiting."

Tears spill over her lashes and roll down her cheeks.

I take out the box and go down on one knee in the mud.

The crowd around the fire goes quiet. Somebody gasps. Mabel says "Oh, Lord" loud enough to carry across the whole field.

I open the box. Ezra Redwood made the ring. Silver band, a small dark red stone set flush in the center, the same red she painted on that first banner the day I met her. He didn't ask a single question when I described it. Mabel got her ring size somehow, and I made the choice not to ask how.

"Marry me, Mona."

She drops to her knees in the mud in front of me.

"Yes." She grabs my face in both hands. "Yes. You big idiot. Yes."

I slide the ring on her finger. Then she kisses me, and the whole festival erupts. Wade whoops. Griffin claps once. Mabel bursts into sobs, and Hank hands her a handkerchief without looking. Sergeant barks and jumps on both of us, muddy paws everywhere, and Mona laughs into my mouth.

* * *

We don't leave until the last vendor's packed up and the fire's out.

Our cabin sits at the end of a gravel road with a porch light I leave on every night now. Hank rebuilt the whole porch in February. Mona planted a row of red geraniums in pots along the rail, and they're finally starting to bloom.

She's tugging my belt loose before I get the door shut.

"Boots," I say.