“I threw up for six solid months.” She looked up at Bishop, her eyes sharp. “I’m not asking you to marry me,” she said. “If that’s what you’re waiting for, you’re going to wait forever.”
Both Sammy and Oakley twittered with laughter, and Bishop scoffed and pretended to be hurt. “I can’t even—I don’t know what to say.”
She smiled and rolled her eyes. “Oh, Aunt Jackie’s here.” She got up from the table, pausing before she went to greet them. Bishop would go with her anyway. She put one palm on his chest, and said, “And you better make it a good proposal. I heard Ranger snuck into a forbidden garage, with dozens of chocolate desserts, all dressed up with roses and racecars.” She sighed. “And Bear showed up in a suit for a simple date and was on both knees when Sammy opened the door, ring at the ready.” She patted his chest and walked away.
Bishop looked at the two women who’d joined his family. “I was gone for five minutes. How fast can you guys talk?”
“Oh, Bishop,” Oakley said, standing up. “I have that woman’s number. I can—and have been—talking to her any time I want.” She grinned at him. “If you need some ideas for great proposals, we’re right here.” She gave Sammy a meaningful look and took a couple of steps away. “You want a waffle with lemon curd, whipped cream, and raspberries?”
“Yes, please,” Sammy said, smiling at Oakley’s back as she walked away. She looked up at Bishop. “My best advice? Include that teenager.”
Bishop turned around as Aurora called his name, and he said, “Thanks,” to Sammy, already distracted by the people he wanted in his life permanently. He just had to figure out the perfect proposal to merge Montana’s family with his.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Montana stood near the steps in the homestead, watching as Bear and Ranger lifted a beautiful, white-flocked Christmas tree out of the box. She didn’t know anyone who set up their holiday decorations in October, but she supposed she didn’t know anyone like the Glovers, period.
“It’s white,” Bishop said quietly to both her and Aurora. “Because this is our angel tree.”
“What’s an angel tree?” Aurora asked.
“It’s our way of putting up a physical reminder of where we came from,” Bishop said. “We hang my grandmother’s crocheted ornaments and remember her. She was a powerful influence on the ranch, and on all of us.”
Montana gazed at him, this handsome, strong, and oh-so-loyal cowboy.
“Grandmother had two sons,” Bishop said, still speaking in barely above a whisper, and Ward said, “Bishop is going to explain the angel tree.”
“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t have a chance to explain it to Montana and Aurora.”
“No foul,” Ward said. “I’d love to hear the stories.” He smiled warmly at Bishop, and Montana got the feeling that this was a very somber and silent affair, thus Bishop whispering, even off to the side, felt wrong to Ward.
“Okay,” Bishop said, still watching Bear and Ranger put the sections of the tree together. “Grandmother had two sons,” he said. “One was my father, Stone, and the other was Bull, my uncle. They both had a lot of kids.”
Several people twittered, and Arizona, Etta, and Mister stepped forward to start straightening the branches and pulling them into a proper tree configuration once the tree was together.
“I have five brothers and a sister. Uncle Bull had three sons and two daughters. Grandmother taught us all something.” Bishop paused for a moment, and Montana marveled at the emotion he allowed to show on his face.
Looking around, she saw similar expressions of love and missing on all of the Glovers’ faces.
He cleared his throat. “She taught me to cook, which I still love to do to this day. She taught Mother how to deal with a lot of boys at the same time.” He put his arm around his mother, and Montana missed her own mom for maybe the first time that year. Maybe in the last five years.
She mirrored him and put her arm around Aurora. Her daughter looked at her, smiled, and leaned her head against Montana’s shoulder.
“She taught Daddy how to talk to his sons, and how to treat them like equals,” Bishop said. “We come from a long line of Glovers who’ve lived here and worked this land, raising crops and cattle and families.”
Arizona stepped to his side with a box in her hand. “Every year, we hang Grandmother’s ornaments on the tree in remembrance of someone who’s no longer with us.” She