ever known, and I want to have the two of you beside me for the rest of our lives. Will you marry me?”
Kyndal’s heart swelled as joy poured in and stretched it wide. This was the way it was supposed to be. This was the love that would last forever. The one that would never leave.
“Yes,” she answered.
Chance stood up and she rushed into his outstretched arms. He laughed and she cried and his mouth pressed to hers in a kiss that was the stuff of dreams.
A wild cheer erupted around them as the customers broke into a spontaneous show of jubilation. And with perfect timing, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir blessed the union with a joyous “Hallelujah” booming from the speakers.
EPILOGUE
Nineteen months later
“DID SHE INDICATE HOW long the process could take?” Kyndal set the Winnie the Pooh cake on the tray and arranged the three cupcakes to look like balloons, running their strings to Pooh’s hand.
Jaci poured herself a handful of peanuts from the bag. “She said the average adoption from their agency takes around two years. Could be more…could be less. In the meantime, we’re going to keep trying the old way.”
Kyndal gave her a wink. “There’s easy access to the ancient fertility room now, if y’all want to give it a try.”
Rick’s hunches had turned out to be correct. The depression in the backyard was the cave-in she and Chance encountered at the end of their cave odyssey. Her husband had called in a storm shelter company, who made quick work of digging out the area, shoring up the walls with concrete, pouring a set of steps leading down to the area, and putting in a door.
Not only did they now have a large storm shelter, but easy access to the ancient room, and a second entrance to the cave, as well.
Jaci snorted. “You could rent it out nightly and make a lot of money.”
Kyndal laughed. She wouldn’t admit it even to her best friend, but the room had become a favorite getaway when she and Chance had some time alone.
Jaci seemed to read her thoughts. She shook her head as she stuck one candle into the blue cupcake. “Y’all keep this up, and you’re going to end up with a litter.”
Chance came through the door in time to catch the end of the conversation. “A litter?” His dark eyes grew wide. “Chesney’s not in heat again, is she?”
Kyndal and Jaci laughed, and Kyndal shook her head. “Chesney’s still a virgin, Dad.”
“Whew.” His face relaxed. He moved behind Kyndal, snaking his arms around her waist and leaning down to nibble her ear.
The movement sent a pleasant tingle from her neck downward—a feeling she would never grow tired of. “Are the natives getting restless?” she asked.
“Hank and Chesney are keeping everybody entertained. Chesney’s keeping Bart, Denise and Rick busy throwing the Frisbee. Mom’s bouncing Hank on her knee, and Dad is plying him with Cheerios, bound and determined his first word is going to be grandpa.”
Kyndal pointed to the tray with the lemonade and cups. “Would you get those, Jaci?” She turned and gave Chance a quick kiss. “And if you’ll take this tray, I’ll grab my camera. The lighter’s over there on the counter.”
The small procession started down the steps leading from the back door to the patio. Emily Brennan started singing “Happy Birthday,” and everybody joined in as she placed Hank in his high chair.
Kyndal’s heart twinged for a moment. Her mom was missing so many things, but Kyndal wouldn’t let it ruin this special day—or any more days. The woman was making her choices. She’d have to live with them.
The twinge passed quickly as Hank gave a delighted squeal when he saw the cake and stretched out his chubby hands. With his dark hair and darker eyes, he was the spitting image of his father…and he melted Kyndal’s heart.
Chance helped blow out the candle, and Hank dug into the chocolate cupcake, smearing blue icing from his forehead past his chin. His giggles filled the air, and Kyndal took shot after shot, each one cuter than the next.
When they settled down to their own pieces of cake, Chance took the camera away from her. “I want my beautiful wife chronicled at this event, too.”
Bill Brennan became a different person when he was around Hank. It never ceased to amaze Kyndal how the child coaxed the gentleness out from behind that coarse exterior.
“Say ‘grandpa,’ Hank.” Bill held out a bite of cake. “Can you do that? Can you