Page 67 of Eighteen Bowties and Counting

“Guess.” Felicity sounded unamused. “I told Mason we’ll have to get a washer and dryer in the barn or something, because there’s no way Tabby’s letting me do laundry while her kittens are in there.” She rolled her eyes and turned around. “Come get a drink and have some appetizers. Dinner will be in about a half-hour.”

Beau detoured into the laundry room with Garrett to see the kittens, and they were definitely newborn cats as they didn’t have their eyes open yet, and they mewed with the most pathetic voices. Still, he held the one Garrett gave him, and he looked at the boy. “We’re all set?”

“Yes, sir,” Garrett said. “Daddy says you’re all set.”

Beau smiled at him, gently handed the kitten back, and said, “All right. We better get this show on the road then.”

It had been a couple of months since he’d first told Charlotte he loved her, but they’d dated so fast, and she needed a little more time to come to the same decisions he had, that he hadn’t rushed into an engagement. She hadn’t said a single word to him about it either.

She didn’t know he’d bought a ring weeks ago, and she didn’t know that he hoped to sit down to dinner in less than thirty minutes an engaged man.

Please let her say yes, he begged God, though Beau didn’t really think Charlotte would say no.

He left the kittened laundry room and entered the main room of the mansion, which was a big combo room with a kitchen, living room and dining room. Charlotte’s parents had come from the Hill Country, and Beau hadn’t met them yet.

Charlotte swooped toward him and linked her arm through his. “My heart is freaking out,” she whispered.

“I’ve got you, little bird,” he whispered back. “I should be the nervous one. They already know you.” His eyes darted around, and he caught her momma looking at him. “Introduce me.”

Charlotte took a deep breath, and with her hand tight in through his arm, she led him over to where her momma sat at the dining room table, braiding together yellow, orange, red, and brown papers to make a chain with her granddaughter.

“Ella, I’m going to interrupt, okay? Beau hasn’t met Grandma yet.” Charlotte leaned into him, and Beau looked at her. She didn’t seem pale, but that didn’t mean much. “Momma, this is Beau Peterson. Beau, my momma, Linda.” She nodded across the table to her daddy, who had a cup of steaming coffee in front of him. “And my daddy, David.”

“Oh, Beau.” Her momma swept up onto her feet and grabbed onto Beau. “It’s so wonderful to meet you. Char has told us so much.”

He laughed, putting on his meeting-parents skin. He had done this before, though not for a while. “Has she now?”

“So many good things.” Linda stepped back and shone her light right on her. “Dave, come meet Beau.”

Her daddy stood and leaned across the table. “Good to meet you, son.”

“You too,” Beau said. “I’m so glad to finally meet both y’all.” He smiled at everyone, and then looked at the braided chains. “Ella, are those ready?”

She looked at him, her face turning bright red. With wide eyes, she said, “All ready.”

“Why don’t we hang them up?” Linda asked, and she slid Beau a knowing look too. He glanced at Charlotte to see if she noticed her family acting kind of off. She didn’t seem to, and she helped Kennedy start to clean up the paper strips.

Beau stepped out of the way and let Ella take one end of the strips to her grandfather while Mason opened a high cupboard in the kitchen to let down the banner he’d taken a picture of and sent to Beau.

He swallowed, suddenly scared out of his mind. Then Felicity met his eyes, and she nodded with so much encouragement in her smile that Beau’s fears flew away. He followed everyone over to the setup they’d done for him and stood in front of them.

“Charlotte,” he said into the silence, and she lifted her head from the table. She stilled when she saw her whole family standing with him, the Thanksgiving decorations behind him.

“Get down on your knees,” Mason hissed, and Beau dropped to his knees.

He held out his hand for the diamond and Felicity handed him the black velvet box. He cracked it open and looked at Charlotte. “How’s your heart, little bird?”

“Um.” She looked over to her mom, but Beau didn’t dare look away from her in case he lost his nerve.

“I hope it belongs to me,” he said. “Because if it does, I promise you I’m going to take real good care of it. Because I love you, and I want you to live in my cabin with me, only in the same room.”

Charlotte started to cry, and Beau had not anticipated that. He hadn’t prepared a speech, because he’d never really had a problem saying what he wanted to say. Or what he felt.

“I love you with my whole heart, little bird. Will you marry me?”

Charlotte sniffled and clenched her fingers together. She needed time to think and collect her response, and Beau wasn’t too concerned yet.

“Charlotte,” her momma said.

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