built. Me, you, and Hailey. Because I can see it, August. I can feel it. I can almost taste it.”
He wasn’t sure what she was saying. It wasn’t exactly I love you, August, but that was implied inside the fact that she could see the three of them living in this house together, as a family.
“For a long time,” he started, speaking slowly and in measures. He’d told his brothers and parents about Etta. He’d shown them the same videos he’d shown Josie’s parents. In usual fashion, his mother had tried to give him a ton of stuff he didn’t want, some of it for Etta. He’d compromised by taking the napkins, and he’d taken a picture of Etta with them and sent it to his mother, so she’d know he’d given them to Etta.
They’d asked him just as many questions as the Jones’ had, and August had given them the same answers.
How serious is it?
I’m not sure. I like her. We’re dating.
Are you thinking about marrying her?
Yes, Mom. I’m thinking about it.
Wow, Christian had said. This is a huge step for you.
Yes, I know.
Will you stay in Three Rivers?
Yes, her family is there, and her ranch. I have nothing to offer her to draw her away from that.
Does she like Hailey?
She loves Hailey.
August knew he’d told everyone the truth this past weekend as he’d been down in the Hill Country and San Antonio to visit everyone he’d left behind.
He cleared his throat and started again. “For a long time, I wasn’t sure I could even fathom finding someone else to love.” He dang near swallowed the last word. “Certainly not someone who could understand what I’ve been through, or how to love my daughter as much as they might love me. I’ve seen people get remarried after death or divorce, and the child is always forgotten. I vowed I wouldn’t let my daughter go through that.”
Etta didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t even blink.
He stepped forward, the house around him forgotten. The whole world stood right in front of him, and his throat turned to sandpaper. “I don’t think it was an accident that we met, Etta.” He swallowed, the walls of his throat sticking together.
August gathered her into his arms. “I hold everything I want when you’re in my arms,” he whispered. “I’m falling in love with you. So yes, I can see us living here, or in the homestead, or even that cabin down the hill. It doesn’t really matter much to me, as long as it’s me and you.”
Etta’s shoulders started to shake, and August wanted to ask her why that made her cry. Something told him to simply hold her and let the silence echo back to him—and to her—what he’d said. So he did that.
After a few seconds, or maybe a whole minute, she stepped back and cupped his face in her hands. “I’m falling in love with you too,” she whispered, her eyes drifting closed as she kissed him. “And I love that little girl who belongs to you. I would never forget her or treat her as less than anyone.”
August believed her unconditionally. He’d seen her with her nieces and nephews, some of whom didn’t share a single drop of Glover blood with her. Heck, he’d seen her with Hailey, and if anything, the two of them would be the ones leaving him in the dust.
As he kissed her, another of his mother’s questions filled his mind.
Do you love her?
Not yet, but I think I could.
The answer shifted in that moment, and he only had one word for the question now.
Yes.
Chapter 21
Duke Rhinehart turned the corner and saw his father’s truck ahead of him. Relief flowed through him, because his father arrived first to every meeting, which meant that Dawson wasn’t there yet.
Duke loved Dawson with his whole heart. He really did, despite him being sixteen years younger than him and from a different mother. His thoughts immediately flowed back to the time when his own mother had passed away, and how heartbroken he’d been.
Daddy was too, Duke reminded himself. He’d been thirteen, and the next few years had been some of the hardest of his life. Not the absolute hardest, but difficult enough. He’d already been working the family ranch with his father, so that hadn’t changed.
The way his dad spoke to him had, however. Wade Rhinehart had dealt with his grief in his own way, and that included harsh commands when he chose to speak at all. He’d come out of