Page 265 of Lost Then Found
I look at her, wide-eyed. “You did?”
She scoffs. “You think I was gonna let you wear some crusty-ass ring from a clearance case for the rest of your life?Please.I’ve been preparing for this moment since we were fifteen.”
I laugh, covering my mouth with my hands.
“You’re welcome,” she adds, smug. “I’m basically the fairy godmother of your left hand.”
Wren and Sage are on me in seconds, squealing so loud I’m sure they just scared off every bird in a ten-mile radius. Wren grabs my left hand like she’s about to steal it, her eyes wide and glittering.
“Oh my god, Lark,” she says, her voice pitched high with excitement. “This isunreal!”
Sage lets out a noise that’s half gasp, half shriek. “It’sperfect!I don’t know how Boone’s grumpy ass pulled you but I’m glad he did.”
Then they both wrap their arms around me, squeezing so tight I let out a little wheeze. I hug them back just as hard, laughter bubbling up in my chest until it mixes with the tears still clinging to my lashes.
Molly’s next, easing in gently and holding my hand like it’s made of glass. “Let me see, honey,” she says, turning it slightly toward the sun. Then she holds up her phone so Ridge—still on FaceTime—can get a clearview.
“Well shit,” Ridge says, tilting his head on screen. “Would you look at that? You actually did something right for once, Boone.”
Boone laughs beside me, shaking his head. “Glad I’ve finally earned your approval.”
Ridge glances past the camera like he’s searching for someone. “Is that Miller I see back there? Hey, Millie girl!”
Miller steps into view, crossing her arms, her expression flat. “Call me that again and I’ll zip-tie your ankles together and roll you into the deepest ditch I can find.”
Ridge’s laugh crackles through the speaker. “God, I missed you.”
Miller flips the phone off and then turns to Boone. “Tell your brother I hope his next bull steps on his damn ego. And then backs up and does it again.”
“I heard that,” Ridge calls.
Miller narrows her eyes. “I know.”
Everyone bursts out laughing again, the sound of it filling the air around us, bouncing off the porch and into the hills. I stand there, surrounded by family—my family—and feel more rooted than I ever have. Like this is the beginning of something that’s already been growing, quietly, beneath the surface all along.
Sage claps her hands once, then spins on her heel like she just remembered something important. “Nobody move,” she says, already jogging toward the ATV parked in the gravel. “I have my camera.”
Wren groans. “Of course you do.”
Sage waves her off with one hand, grabbing her bag from the back of the ATV and pulling out her Nikon like she’s about to shoot a Vogue spread instead of a porch full of people who’ve just been ugly crying in public. She tucks her long hair behind her ears, adjusts the strap over her shoulder, and marches back up the driveway.
She’s been the staff photographer forMontana Modern, one of the swankier lifestyle magazines in the state, ever since she graduated from college—and it shows. The girl’s got an eye. You could hand her adisposable camera and she’d still manage to make someone look like a damn supermodel.
“Okay,” she says, gesturing toward the porch like a drill sergeant in high-waisted jeans and perfect eyeliner. “Boone, hold Lark’s hand like you didn’t just cry five minutes ago. Hudson—chin up, babe, you’ve got a great jawline. Miller, fix your hair. Mom, stay right there, the light is perfect on you.”
Molly mutters something under her breath about bossy children, but she still turns into the sun like she’s auditioning for a skincare ad.
Sage clicks and snaps and bosses and swears, and somehow it all works. The next thing I know, she’s gotten everyone in a group shot, then one with just Boone and me, then Hudson gets pulled in again for a picture that makes my heart squeeze.
Then she crouches low and gestures for my hand. “Let me see that rock up close.”
I hold it out, the diamond catching what’s left of the evening light, and she whistles. “Damn, Miller. You did good. Boone, I guess you did, too.”
Miller tips her imaginary hat. “Only the best for my best girl.”
Sage snaps a few shots, tilts my hand this way and that, gets a close-up of Boone’s hand over mine. I glance over at him, his thumb brushing across my knuckles as he watches me like he’s never going to stop.
“Perfect,” Sage murmurs, lowering her camera and grinning. “Frame-worthy.”
