Page 141 of Tate
Because he also planned on getting close and personal with her. The kind of close and personal that included a ring and vows and a permanent say-so in her life.
If that sounded okay with her.
And no, he hadn’t produced a ring—not yet. But he was a man who kept his promises.
Dixie and Elijah Blue had arrived early in the afternoon with most of the equipment, and Tate had sat in the sound check.
Apparently, it was time for the Yankee Belles to get back together. He’d never been prouder of Glo than when she stood up to her mother and told her that she wouldn’t give a speech tonight.
That instead, she’d sing.
Which, after all, was what she was good at.
And yes, she liked the limelight, but only if she could share it, thank you. Besides, she had the perfect song for tonight, if her mother would just trust her a little.
Meanwhile, future VP Reba Jackson was onstage before thousands—no, millions, if they counted the television audience—giving her acceptance speech.
He’d missed most of it—the background of her life, the callouts to various supporters, the stumping against the other candidates—but Glo took his hand and walked him to the edge of the wings.
Reba wore a red dress, striking and powerful on her slim frame. She held the podium with both hands, as if she might be driving, and she probably had her speech memorized, despite the teleprompters.
He wasn’t sure what she’d just said, but the audience—some in crazy hats, others with foam fingers—was alive, raising blue-and-white political signs. It felt like a football game, and for a second, the old buzz of standing at the edge of his high school stadium and hearing the roar of the crowd sluiced under his skin.
As if he might be at the edge of the biggest game of his life.
Maybe he was. Loving Glo. Being the man she believed in.
“You know what is going to change this country?” Reba said now. “People who won’t give up. People who are willing to sacrifice and commit and keep showing up, even when it gets hard. People like my daughter’s boyfriend, Tate Marshall, a former US Ranger who didn’t give up when his unit was attacked, who fought his way out of an enemy village, towing a fellow soldier on his back, even though he was injured himself, and got both of them to safety. A true American hero who just yesterday saved my life and the life of my daughter.”
Tate couldn’t move.
“Tate, just step out here for a moment, and let America thank you.”
What—uh?—
Reba turned in his direction from the stage, and his chest hollowed. “No?—”
“Yes,” Glo said, looking up and grinning at him, her voice low. “Just…receive it, Tate. C’mon.” She tugged his hand. And then, when he didn’t move—still stunned—she pulled him out onto the stage.
“Try not to look like you’re going to throw up,” she said, and he swallowed, forcing a smile.
“Wave, Tate!”
A voice shouted from behind him, and he turned to look.
Knox stood on the side, next to Ford, Reuben, and Gilly, and even—his mother?What?Gerri was grinning, tears cutting down her face. Smiling.
Glo looked up at him. “Surprise.”
“What did you do?—?”
“I didn’t do anything. You did. You showed up.”
“I showed up because I love you. Not because I’m some great hero.”
“Aw, Tate, that’s what you don’t see. You don’t consider yourself a hero, because it’s what you do. It’s just who you are. But youarea hero and we all know it. It’s time the world did too. So justwavefor Pete’s sake!”
He took a breath.
