Page 110 of A Rancher's Vow
Ivy shooed all of them to the backyard. “Walker cooked, so I’ll clean up.”
Walker kissed her temple. “You’ll have a quiet house for an hour,” he promised.
“Thank you,” she whispered before winking at Charity. “You too, outside. Washing up alone, in the quiet, is one of my coping strategies.”
“I’m all for a good coping strategy,” Charity said, scooping up Harper and heading for the backyard. “Say ‘have fun with the bubbles, Mama.’”
“Have fun bubbles, Mama,” five-year-old Harper repeated, hanging off Charity to offer Ivy a smacking kiss.
A few years back, Walker had gotten his brothers’ help to build a playhouse in the backyard with swings and monkey bars and a small house section with a porch. Plastic flowers grew in the window box, and the entire thing had been painted in bright, rainbow colours.
The kids ran wild, laughing and shouting. A near constant chorus of, “Look at me, Uncle Dustin. Push me, Auntie Tee,” rang out as well.
Walker nudged Dustin’s arm. “You plan to do something about that?”
Dustin paused. “Which part?”
“The kids are calling her auntie.” Walker shrugged. “I don’t mind, but you should make sure she’s onboard with it.”
Tongue-tied, Dustin watched Charity dance with Chloe around the sandbox. “Soon.”
Walker stared out at his children, grin growing wider. Then he made a clucking noise.
For fuck’s sake.Dustin glared at him. “I’m not chicken, I’ve been waiting until—”
He stalled out. Waiting until…what?
The truth up and smacked him with a two-by-four. There was no reason to wait. He’d liked Charity and planned to tell her that they should date for real. Then the vandalism had happened. Since then the connection between them had simply kept growing, even without him saying a word.
What the hell had he been thinking?
A hand waved in front of his face. “Earth to Dustin.”
Shit. He snapped his attention to his brother. “I’m an idiot.”
Walker shrugged. “It seems we all are at some point when it comes to our women.” He pointed to the graveyard beside the house. “Maybe it’s time to talk more and idiot less.”
Dustin wasn’t sure why she was there, walking through the cemetery. The children were all happily making a massive sandcastle, so he left his brother with them and hurried after Charity.
A graveyard. Seemed as good a place as any to straighten out the mess he’d made of things.
He approached slowly, partly because it was a place to be quiet, and partly because Charity was kneeling beside the fence, working intently on something.
Stopping far enough away he wouldn’t frighten her, he spoke. “Hey, whatcha doing?”
23
Caught red-handed with a small solar light in her hand, Charity decided to tell the truth. “Changing some batteries.”
A line creased between his brows then cleared as Dustin put two and two together. “You’re the one who’s been putting the lights up. For the past four years, no one could figure out who’s been doing it. It was you all along.”
Charity finished her task then stood, fingers tangled together. “I know Grandma’s story was about acts of kindness, but putting out actual lights made me feel closer to her. And once I started, I didn’t want to stop.”
Deep-felt emotion welled up, and everything she’d been holding back for so long rushed out of her. No longer could she hold this inside. No more waiting and wondering.
It was time.
She snatched up his hands. “I don’t want to stop this either.”
