“It’s one of Jesus’ parables,” Emma said. “The ‘treasure’ represents the kingdom of heaven, that it’s worth giving up everything for.”
“Well, all of this?” he said, sweeping out his free hand. “And you, and the kids…it occurs to me that this is about as close to heaven as this poor old cowboy’s ever gonna get on this earth.”
“I can’t let you give up your music, Cash—”
“Or finish a thought, apparently,” he said, squeezing her shoulders. “I finally realized it doesn’t have to be an either/or thing. I can still write my music, maybe even cut an album now and then. And as long as it’s on my terms, I might even play the occasional concert. We’ll see. Country music’s changed, but…so’ve I. If those two things mesh, fine. If not…” He shrugged.
His gaze shifted to hers. “Because music’s not my safe place anymore. I don’t need it to define me. It’s what I do—or did—but it’s not who I am. Not now.” Wes’s clear, bright laugh cut through the dusk, and Cash smiled. “Now I’m somebody’s daddy.” He lifted her hand to his lips, then pressed it to his cheek. “And I’d like to be somebody’s husband, if she’s amenable to that.”
“Oh, yeah?” Emma said. Somehow. “Anybody I know?”
Chuckling, Cash shifted to slip warm, rough fingers underneath her hair, bringing their mouths together and making lightning crackle all over her skin. “Since you made me fall in love with you,” he said, his eyes twinkling, “it seems only fair that you marry me.”
“Is that so?”
“Yep. Heck, I’ll even toss in an extra kid to sweeten the deal.”
She laughed, and kissed him again. And then again, because she could. “I love you, too, Cash,” she whispered. Grinning like a loon. “With all my heart.”
“Is that a yes?”
“It is most definitely a yes.”
“That’s good, then. ’Cause I told Tess to take the house off the market.” When Emma frowned, he shrugged. “Until that new master bedroom is done, Wes and me need someplace to hole up, right? And also,” he said, shifting to dig into his pocket, “I’d hate to have to trek all the way back to Dallas to return this.”
This being an emerald-cut diamond ring big enough, flashing in the sinking sun, to send a signal to Denver. “Holy mackerel,” Emma breathed, trembling a little when he slid it onto her finger. She made a mental note to at least file her nails or something.
“It’s okay, then?”
“Uh, yeah. But I didn’t expect—”
“Shush, woman,” Cash said, and kissed her again, before, his face creasing into one big, fat grin, he leaned back, his legs stretched in front of him. Then he gathered Emma to his side, where they stayed until it got too dark to see the kids, listening to the late-summer sounds, and their children’s laughter, and each other’s slow, steady, content breathing.
And Emma smiled, because Cash was right.
This was as close to heaven on earth as it got.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-6022-5
WELCOME HOME, COWBOY
Copyright © 2010 by Karen Templeton-Berger
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