That much was pretty obvious. She’d spent months taking care of this child, her sister’s boy. She’d fed him and clothed him and cared for him. And yes, loved him. Still he’d turned to Brent time and again.
Brent wanted to marry her. Not just because of Finnley, he said, but because he loved her.
Did she love him the same way? Or was this just the simplest solution? The easiest way for Finnley to have his daddy and for Brent to get what he wanted and for her to have… what? Security? Love?
She didn’t want to choose Brent for Finnley’s sake. Just the thought of it made her push away.
Brent turned into the driveway. Searchers already filed off the mountain to see the little boy that had been lost but was now found. Claire was right behind them in her beat-up car, and Zach was not far behind that on his bike. Someone would have to go back for Keanan’s.
Jo rushed out of the straw bale house with Maddie straddling the baby bump.
Everyone had pulled together for her. For Finnley. They belonged here at Green Acres.
Brent grasped her hand across the console. “It’s okay, Allison. No need to make big decisions in a time of stress and relief.”
How could he always know what she was thinking? She met his gaze and, like a magnet, it drew her in until their lips touched.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“Yes,” said Finnley.
Claire yanked the truck door open and lifted Finnley from Allison’s arms. “Hey, little guy. Good to see you safe and sound. What have you got there?” She pulled the zipper tab and a little orange paw emerged.
A second later Danny Boy erupted from the backpack and streaked across the farm, free at last.
“Where Danny Boy go?”
Allison slid out and gathered Finnley in her arms. This time, he didn’t resist. “Off to find his mama and his breakfast. Let’s get some food into your tummy, too, okay?”
Chapter 35
Allison drove the few blocks from Galena Gospel Church to Lakeside Park on a late August afternoon. Even from the parking lot she could see Brent’s tanned back next to Mason Waterman’s gray muscle shirt.
Christopher ran down the sandy beach with Finnley at his heels and a kite in tow. After a whole summer of trying, he’d recently learned to keep it in the air most of the time. That kid had stick-to-it-iveness.
So did she. After weeks of meeting with Pastor Ron’s wife, Wanda, Allison felt the freedom to fly. She kicked off her sandals, grabbed them up, and ran across the sand, her yellow sundress flowing around her knees.
Some sixth sense alerted Brent before she reached him. He turned to watch her, a wide grin on his face. How could she ever have allowed the weeds of doubt to crowd out the beauty of this man? Yes, God had done some weeding in his life, too. They’d made major errors in judgment. Both of them. They were human. Yet God cherished them anyway. Cherished her. His long-lost daughter.
“Look, Auntie Allison!” Finnley called, as Christopher handed the kite spool off to him. “I can fly a kite, too!”
She stopped only a few feet from Brent to watch her little guy bite hard on his lip and frown in concentration as the kite dipped around him. In just a minute or two, it fell against the sand.
“Yay, Finnley!” she yelled. “You did a great job.”
“Yes, you did,” said Christopher. “If you keep prakkising, you’ll be as good at it as me.” He darted to the fallen kite and threw it in the air as Finnley began to run. Once again the kite rose.
Brent stood beside her and slipped his arm around her. “How did your session go?” His eyes watched Finnley, but his hand caressing her waist told her his attention was on her.
“Good.” Allison couldn’t help herself. She did a little jig on the sand. “I’m ready to write my sister a letter. Wanda helped me see that I need to forgive Lori for what she did to Finnley. For what she did with you. She needs to know Jesus loves her, too.”
“Let’s walk,” suggested Brent, tugging her along with him.
She slid her arm around his waist and strolled beside him in the direction the little boys had run.
“I’ve got a question for you.”
Allison’s heart nearly stopped. Was it time? But no, he’d said he wouldn’t ask her that one. It was up to her. She swallowed hard. “Oh, what’s that?”
“Do you mind if I write her, too? I want her to know I forgive her, as well, and ask if she’ll forgive me. I want her to know this little boy means all the world to me.” He tightened his arm and nuzzled her hair. “I want her to know this little boy’s auntie is more precious than gold. Most of all, like you said, she needs to hear that Jesus treasures her.”
Allison’s eyes brimmed over and she buried her face against Brent’s strong warm chest. He cradled her against him, rubbing his hands up and down her back.
“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you,” she whispered between sniffles.
He kissed her forehead. “I don’t deserve you, either. I’m thankful love and forgiveness aren’t things we only get if we deserve them. I love you because of you. Who you are.” He tilted her face up so their eyes met. “I don’t mean because of your relationship to Finnley. I mean because of the amazing woman God created in you.”
“I don’t think I can live up to that.”
He kissed her lips gently. “Stay close to Jesus, and all the rest will be taken care of.”
She tangled her hands in his black hair and held his head in place so she could kiss him properly. “I love you, Brent,” she whispered against his lips then reclaimed them with hers.
It was time. She was ready.
* * *
Brent ran his hands down the wooden beams inside Allison’s new house and looked around the space. Hickory cabinetry created a small L-shaped kitchen with an eating island. The built-in desk he’d handcrafted just for her sat tucked beneath the stairs. Down the hallway lay a bathroom with a jetted tub. A bedroom beyond opened to a small patio nestled into a private hollow against the mountainside.
The half-log staircase rose to the upper story where a mural nearly identical to the one in the duplex awaited, and a railing fashioned of tree branches would keep Finnley safe as he played in the loft.
It’d been hard work keeping Allison and Finnley out for the past two weeks while he’d worked overtime on the finishing touches. He’d spent time every evening with Allison, going for a twilight walk before tucking Finnley into bed.
She’d made a quick trip to Portland a few weeks before to select the furniture she wanted to bring here. The truck should arrive Monday evening.
Tomorrow.
Was Allison ready for the next step? Sometimes it seemed the moment was in front of him. At other times, he wasn’t sure. But he was committed to her and to Finnley, regardless. He’d moved into an apartment in town. Signed a contract with Tyrell Burke to start on his timber frame house this fall so they could do the finishing over the winter. Two other possible projects loomed.
Was he ready?
Oh, yeah. No doubt about it. He’d been more than ready for weeks. Ever since the day Finnley had been lost and found. The day he’d promised not to push Allison. He’d made it clear enough, hadn’t he? That it was all up to her now?
He’d done his part. He brushed an invisible speck off the tiled island. Her house was ready for her. He was ready.
Brent pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped a message in: Meet me at the house?
She texted back in seconds. It’s finished? Be right there!
How had a fingerprint gotten on the French door? He wiped it away with the hem of his shirt.
What did “be right there” mean, anyway? He knew exactly how long it took to walk the trail from the duplex to the house. He’d done it hundreds of times. He’d thought she’d be more eager. That she’d come running.
He checked his phone again, but she hadn’t sent another message to say what detained her. The timestamp said ten minutes ago. Was that all? It felt like eternity.<
br />
Brent paced to the other window, but it didn’t provide a clearer view of the path. He returned to the French doors.
Was that a speck of yellow between the trees? He caught his breath. She wore the yellow sundress she’d bought just a few weeks ago, practically the only real color he’d ever seen on her. Her hair was piled in a knot on her head.
Finnley clung to her hand wearing long black pants and a sunshine yellow button-up shirt. His hair was damp and perfectly combed.
Brent closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Thank You, God.” Then he opened the door, stepped out onto the deck, and swept a bow. It only seemed fitting. “Welcome. Please enter.”
Finnley’s eyes were round as logs as he climbed the three steps, still holding Allison’s hand.
But Brent couldn’t keep his eyes off the gorgeous woman in front of him for more than a second. “Are you ready?”
Her brown eyes shone as she nodded, a little smile pushing up her cheeks. “Oh, I’m ready.” Her voice was low with promise.
Did she mean what he hoped she meant? Patience. Time would tell.
He followed her and Finnley into the house and closed the French door behind them. Finnley let out a whoop, let go of Allison’s hand, and raced for the stairs.
Allison chuckled. “I guess we’ll see the loft first.” She kicked her sandals off and followed Finnley.
“You maded me a farm!” Finnley yelled from his room. “You maded me Danny Boy!”
Brent grinned as he climbed the stairs.
“And Rover. Look, Auntie Allison.”
“I see, buddy. That’s a very nice farm.”
Brent came up behind Allison as she leaned on the doorjamb of Finnley’s bedroom. He slid both arms around her.
She leaned back into him as he rested his chin on her shoulder. She looked amazing. Smelled amazing. He nuzzled her neck. Tasted amazing.
Allison turned in Brent’s arms. “It’s gorgeous. You outdid yourself.”
He kissed her nose. “Thank you. Are you ready to see downstairs now?”
“There Domino.” Finnley traced the details on his mural.
She grinned at the boy then kissed Brent back. “Sure.”
He held her hand as they descended the steps, her other gliding over the smooth surface of the banister log.
“I can’t believe the details.” She glanced up at him. “Does Timber Framing Plus put this much effort into the finishing touches of all the houses they build?”
Brent chuckled. “Not quite.”
Her gaze paused on the kitchen backsplash. “You’re sneaky, you know that?”
“Who, me?” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the island as she rounded it.
“Didn’t I expressly choose the gray glass tiles?”
If he hadn’t heard the lilt in her voice, he might’ve been worried. “You did.”
“Then why do there seem to be dandelions painted on some of them?” She leaned closer, touching the yellow flowers.
“They’re only weeds when they’re growing where they’re not wanted,” he said softly. “And I do think they’re wanted right there.”
She glanced at him, her expression unreadable. “You might be right.”
He followed her to the bathroom, where he’d toed the party line for all the finishing work but hadn’t been able to resist bright yellow towels. Just a few, for a house-warming gift.
She grinned, shook her head, and entered her bedroom.
Brent leaned against the doorframe and watched her, the woman he loved, as her gaze caught on the one other place he’d been a rebel. Sure, three of the walls were in the mid-gray tone with crisp white trim she’d chosen, but on the bits of the fourth that showed around the closet doors and window, he’d taken leave to paint a sun low on the horizon, a hint of orange to link the yellow with the gray.
Allison planted her hands on her slim hips. “A setting sun, Brent? Really?” Her voice, her expression, both neutral.
He couldn’t tell what she really thought. “It’s a rising sun, not a setting one.” He swallowed hard. “To represent a new day. A new beginning.”
She tilted her head to one side.
He shouldn’t have done it. She probably hated it. “I can paint over it in half an hour if you want me to.” Could he paint himself out of her life as easily? No. Not with Finnley.
“Hmm. It might grow on me. We’ll see.” She brushed past him, down the little hallway and to the foot of the stairs. “Buddy? Would you come down here, please?”
“Coming.” Footsteps ran across the floorboards and down the stairs. Finnley grinned from ear to ear as he bounced to a stop beside Allison and looked up at her. “Is it time?”
She nodded.
Finnley dug around in his pocket and pulled out with a small box.
Brent caught his breath as the little man came and stood in front of him. When Finnley tilted his head way back to look at him, Brent dropped to his knees.
Finnley glanced up at Allison.
Brent carefully did not follow his gaze but kept his eyes focused on his son. His son.
“Brent, we want to know if you will be our daddy and live at our new house.” He looked up at Allison. “Did I say that right?”
She nudged him. “Give Brent his present.”
“Oh. I ’most forgot. Here.” He thrust the little box at Brent.
Brent blinked back moisture as he opened the box. He unfolded the piece of paper he found inside, a paper edged with dandelions. In the middle, it said, “Will you marry me? I love you. Allison.”
He scrambled to his feet, grabbed Allison around the waist, and gave her a twirl. Her bare feet scarcely missed Finnley. “Are you sure?”
She laughed. “I’m one-hundred percent absolutely certain.”
He tightened his arms around her, folding her as completely into his hug as was possible, kissing her eyebrows, her nose, her cheeks, her lips. Oh, her lips.
“I haven’t heard an answer,” she teased, pulling back and looking deep into his eyes.
He tugged out the pins that held her hair in place and let the locks cascade down her back. “I say yes. I’m thrilled to marry you.” He kissed her again.
A little hand tugged at his pant leg. “Brent?”
How could he nearly have forgotten his own son? But he didn’t want to let go of Allison. He scooped Finnley up in one arm, and Allison completed the circle by hugging them both.
“Yes, squirt?”
Finnley frowned and crossed his arms. “You didn’t say if you will be our daddy.”
“I’m already your daddy, squirt. But yes, I’ll marry your Auntie Allison and live in your house with you for always.”
Finnley clenched Brent’s jaw between both his little hands. “Really truly?”
“Yes, little man. Really truly. Now I have a present for her, too. Should I give it to her right now?”
Finnley leaned in, filling Brent’s vision. “Can I?”
“Sure you can. But I have to put you down first, okay? I need to get it out of my pocket.”
The little face contemplated that for a moment before nodding. “Okay.”
Brent slid his son to the floor and handed over a little velvet box.
Finnley rotated it a few times. “It looks just like the other one.”
“Trust me, squirt. It’s not quite the same.”
The little man shrugged and handed it to Allison. “Okay. Here you go, Auntie Allison. A present from Brent.” Then he jumped up and down. “What’s in it? Can I see?”
Allison tipped back the lid of the jeweler’s case. Her eyes grew wide and she pressed one hand against her chest. “Oh, Brent. It’s beautiful! How… when?”
“Weeks ago. I bought it not long after Finnley… you know. I wanted to be ready when you were.”
“Didn’t you ever doubt me?”
He shook his head, holding her gaze. “Not for a minute.” He reached for her left hand. “Allison, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife a
nd the mother of our children?” He ruffled Finnley’s hair, but his eyes didn’t leave hers. “This little squirt, but also any others the good Lord sees fit to send our way?”
Her eyes shone with love for him. “I will.”
He plucked the diamond ring from its velvet nest and slid it on her finger.
“Are you my daddy now?” asked Finnley.
Brent patted his head. “Now and for always, squirt. Now go up to your room and see if you can find Jane Eyre on your wall. She’s hiding there.”
Allison grinned. “Then Brent and I can talk about how quickly we can make all this happen.”
The sooner the better, in his mind. But they could talk about it after they kissed some more.
The End
Recipe for Dandelion Pesto
For the mildest flavored dandelion greens, cover the emerging plants and use the leaves before they turn dark green. The darker the leaves, the more bitter the flavor.
Dandelion Pesto
Makes about 1 cup, or 2 servings
1/2 cup pine nuts
2 garlic gloves
2 cups loosely-packed dandelion greens
2 teaspoons lemon juice
1/2 cup olive oil
Salt and black pepper, to taste
1/3 cup freshly grated parmesan
Lightly toast the pine nuts in a dry cast-iron skillet over medium low heat. Remove from heat. Place pine nuts in food processor and add the garlic and dandelion greens. Add the lemon juice and olive oil. Pulse until smooth. Add salt and pepper to taste.
Serve over cooked spaghetti squash or fettuccine.
Sprinkle with a generous amount of parmesan.
Thank You!
Thank you for reading Dandelions for Dinner: A Farm Fresh Romance 4. I hope you enjoyed it!
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Dandelions for Dinner (A Farm Fresh Romance Book 4) Page 25
