For a second, the reality of what she was seeing didn’t register. A diamond winked at her. Without conscious thought, she reached up to make sure her earrings were still in place. Then she looked at Rufus, who was grinning. “Surprise.”
She looked back at the two-carat stone in a classic, vintage setting and let out a loud whoop. “What was that about waiting?”
He splayed his hands. “Engaged is not the same as married. We can be engaged for as long as you want…if you promise to marry me someday, Rachel Grey.” He went down on one knee. “Will you?”
She couldn’t find her voice at first. Her heart was beating too hard. But for once the critical voice in her head was silent. Or maybe the joy she felt simply drowned it out.
She held up the ring, admiring the simple design and patina that came from time and wear. “Your mother’s?” she asked.
“And grandmother’s before her. Mom changed the setting and you can, too, of course.”
She wiggled the ring over her knuckle and held out her hand to make use of a shaft of light coming in through the skylight above them. “It’s lovely,” she said. “The cut of the diamond matches my earrings. I don’t know how you did this—maybe you are part mysterious yeti after all—but…my answer is yes. In the fairly near future. After I catch my breath and we figure out what’s happening with your business and mine, I will marry you, Rufus Miller.”
His reaction wasn’t quite what she was expecting. Instead of happy, excited or thrilled, he looked sheepish.
“What?”
He pretended to loosen his collar. “I suppose I might have picked a better time to tell you this, but… um…my name is Rob Milne. Miller was my great-grandparents’ name. The original cabin was known as the Miller place. Rufus was my childhood dog’s name. When I moved here, I became Rufus Miller. In NewYork, you can buy a new identity pretty darn cheap. At the time, I thought it was the only way to leave the R. J. Milne part of me behind. But, legally, my name is Robin James Milne. And that’s the name I’d like you to share.”
She didn’t know whether to laugh or hit him over the head with his dollhouse. She decided to kiss him instead. “Fine. Rob, Robin, Rufus. The name doesn’t matter because you’re still you. But—” she made a face “—that means I just agreed to marry a man whose name I didn’t even know.” She paused dramatically. “If you ever tell that to my mother, it’ll be grounds for divorce. Agreed?”
He leaned his forehead against hers and said, softly, “Agreed.”
“I believe you. Do you know why?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “I believe you because that first day at Char’s you dropped off two Dreamhouses. One, I sold. One, I bought.”
He made a tsking sound. “You paid full price.”
She nodded. “I know. But I had to have it. Because I finally knew exactly what I desired most in the world. When I got back to the cottage, I wrote my wish on a piece of paper and stuffed it down the chimney to wait for my dream to come true. And it worked.”
“What did you write?”
She couldn’t resist teasing him just a bit. “Something about a guy with three dogs and a thing for sex toys.”
He pulled her close and gave her a squeeze. “Tell me.”
She closed her eyes and pictured the single word she’d printed in block letters: HIM.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
“I can’t. It might jinx our future. Do you know for sure what happens if your dream comes true and you blab about it? You don’t, do you?”
“No. Not really.”
She rose up on her tiptoes to kiss him. “Then, let’s not tempt fate.” She framed his face with her hands. “But, I can tell you really, really want to know, so I’ll make you a deal. We’ll open the Dreamhouse on our fiftieth wedding anniversary and read what it says together. Okay?”
The look of love, humor and indulgence in his eyes said it all. But he added for good measure, “Deal.”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-5558-0
UNTIL HE MET RACHEL
Copyright © 2010 by Debra K. Salonen.
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Until He Met Rachel Page 21
