Page 104 of The Convict Gets His Girl

Hunter nodded. "I understand. It's a lot going on, and being away from her can't be easy. But tonight, we're not going to worry about Destini or anything else. Tonight, I'm getting married. We're the only ones that know by the way. We're going to surprise everyone else."

Chase shook his head. "What's with all the surprise weddings in this town?"

Hunter chuckled. "This will make two, bro. It's not that many. And this time both the bride and groom know."

Jewel threw up her hands and grumbled, "Men." Then she stormed off to join the ladies decorating on the other side of the room.

Hunter chuckled, but Chase just stared forlornly after her. "Do you think she regrets it?" He paused, and Hunter turned to him, frowning in confusion. "Regrets me?" Chase's voice was barely a whisper.

Hunter placed a firm hand on Chase's shoulder. "Not a chance, Brother. Jewel might be complicated, but she looks at you like you're her entire world. I was wrong about her when I warned you to stay away all those months ago."

"I love her," Chase said the words out loud, afraid to say them to her, but needing this first step to practice saying them out loud.

"Of course you do. And she's head over heels for you, even if she's fighting it harder than a wild mustang."

Chase swallowed, watching Jewel's back as she arranged decorations. Her movements were sharp, precise, betraying her inner tension. "She seems… distant. Crankier today."

"She's stressed," Hunter said. "Halloween party, wedding preparations, work at the ranch. Plus, whatever's going on with her and Destini."

Chase nodded, but the doubt gnawed at him. He'd moved so quickly with Jewel, trying to both give her space while claiming her heart. What if he hadn't succeeded? What if she was having second thoughts about moving in and giving them a real chance?

He might've talked with Destini a lot this week, but Jewel had practically ignored him.

Before he could respond, Taylor walked up, her arms laden with orange and black streamers. She raised an eyebrow at both men. "Are you two going to stand here looking like lost puppies, or are you going to help?"

Hunter grinned and took half the streamers from her, kissing her cheek. Chase grabbed the remaining decorations and followed them, his eyes constantly darting to where Jewel had disappeared. The barn was transforming into a Halloween wonderland, with carved pumpkins, twinkling lights, and cobweb decorations that looked both spooky and elegant.

Hours later, the sequined lights of the barn glittered like frozen tears as Chase walked back in, his prisoner costume stark against the Halloween revelry. Black-and-white striped fabric hung loose on his frame, the stiff material a deliberate choice that felt like armor and confession rolled into one.

Laughter erupted from his siblings—a sharp, staccato sound that broke the tension.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Parker said.

"What? I thought it was fitting," Chase said, plucking at the fabric.

His family was gathered around a raised platform, two big chairs placed on them like thrones. His mother sat, regal and frowning. Pain flickered across her face, something deep and unresolved that made Chase's stomach clench.

He stepped up beside her and kissed her cheek. "Mom," he greeted as the caterers and servers put last-minute touches on the room, scurrying here and there.

"You should've worn something else," she said softly like a queen holding court.

"This is who I am, Ma," Chase responded, his voice low and determined. "I'm just me. I have to own my mistakes. If you can't accept me and what I've done?—"

The costume felt suddenly heavy. Intentionally provocative. A walking billboard of his past, daring anyone—especially her—to judge. His fingers brushed the rough fabric, feeling every thread like a memory, despite his years of uniform not looking anything like this fake monstrosity.

The barn's festive sounds seemed to fade, creating a bubble of intimacy between mother and son. Chase waited, his breath shallow, wondering if this moment would define everything that came after.

Her eyes softened, a complexity of emotion shifting across her features. "No, it's not that. I—I'm not ashamed of you, Chase. I love you, but I'm still hurt that we didn't talk for fifteen years. I feel like I don't really know you anymore. It's no wonder why we treat you like just one of the ranch hands."

The words landed like quiet stones dropping into a still pond, each one creating ripples that expanded outward. Chase felt his throat constrict, a physical manifestation of years of unspoken pain and distance.

His voice, when it emerged, was rough-edged and vulnerable. "But I'm so much more."

"I know," she said. "And I'm trying. It's just taking me a while to adjust. I'm sorry."

He shook his head. She had nothing to be sorry about. It was him who had so much to apologize for.

"No, Ma, I'm the one who's sorry. I was angry for years because I blamed everyone for what happened, everyone except me."

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