Page 56 of Make Me Yours
She smiled and nodded, her lashes brushing against her cheek. “Yeah. It does.”
We landed in Show Low just as the late afternoon light painted the mountains orange. Lilly’s parents were already waiting by the small terminal. Her mom, Ruth, waved so hard I thought she might take flight herself, while her dad, Sam, leaned on his cane, grinning ear to ear.
“Mom! Dad!” Lilly called, hurrying toward them.
The reunion was something to see. Ruth held her daughter tight, tears glistening in her eyes, while Sam patted her back with that quiet strength that reminded me a little of my own father. As Ruth turned to greet me, her smile faltered when she noticed the slight swell of Lilly’s belly.
“Oh,” she breathed, her hand going straight to her mouth. “Lilly Grace Mitchell, are you?—?”
Lilly laughed, cheeks pink. “Yes, Mama. That’s why we wanted to come in person.”
Ruth’s eyes filled again, this time with pure joy. “Lord have mercy,” she said, hugging her daughter once more. “I’m gonna be a grandma.”
Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “About time,” he said, then turned to me. “And you must be Sawyer.”
“Yes, sir.” I offered my hand, and he shook it firmly. “It’s good to finally meet you.”
“Likewise, son. You picked a fine woman.”
“I know,” I said with a grin. “Don’t plan on letting her forget it.”
He laughed, clapping me on the shoulder. “Good answer.”
Their home sat nestled at the edge of town, a tidy little place with white shutters, a wraparound porch, and desert landscaping Ruth clearly loved. The smell of roast chicken and sage wafted through the open windows.
Dinner was warm and easy, filled with stories, laughter, and a little teasing. Ruth fussed over Lilly the way mothers do—making her drink more water, piling her plate with rolls she swore she didn’t want but ate anyway. Sam watched it all with quiet amusement, then turned his attention to me.
“So, Sawyer,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “You’ve got the look of a man who’s seen a few things. What kind of work did you do before settling down in Montana?”
I hesitated for a beat, cutting my chicken slowly, deciding just how much to share. “I served in the Navy,” I said finally. “SEAL team.”
Sam’s brows lifted, and a flicker of respect crossed his face. “That so? Which deployment?”
“Mostly the Middle East,” I said. “Spent some time in Mosul. Couple of long tours.”
He gave a low whistle and nodded. “Hard country. You make it home from that, you can make it through just about anything.”
“Some days were harder than others,” I admitted. “But it teaches you what matters. Who matters.” My gaze drifted to Lilly across the table as she laughed with her mom. “Coming home… finally meeting her—it gave all that time a reason.”
Sam studied me for a long moment, then smiled. “I understand you also won the Powerball with some of your friends. That’s a game-changer. But you talk like a man who’s seen both sides of life. That’s a good thing. Makes you appreciate the quiet days more.”
“Exactly,” I said, relaxing a little. “Building a relationship with Lilly feels better than the lottery win.”
He chuckled, lifting his glass. “Then here’s to the days ahead, son.”
Ruth smiled, eyes softening as she caught our exchange. “I couldn’t be happier for you two,” she said, glancing lovingly between Lilly and me.
The conversation rolled on from there, easy and warm. For the first time in a long while, I felt like I wasn’t being interviewed or measured up. I was just part of the table—part of a family.
After dessert, the conversation turned toBloom & Vine.Lilly told them about the expansion, the new van, and how she’d been considering turning her cabin property into a wedding venue.
Sam leaned back, impressed. “Sounds like quite an operation.”
“It’s her vision,” I said. “I just help carry the heavy stuff.”
Ruth smiled knowingly. “And believe me, that’s worth plenty.”
Later, Sam stepped out to the porch while Ruth and Lilly cleaned up the dishes. I followed him, and the evening air was cool and dry. Fireflies blinked in the grass, and somewhere down the street, a dog barked. The chirp of crickets mixed with the clink of dishes from the kitchen—home sounds, the kind I’d never really noticed until lately.
