Page 129 of Savage Heart

Pickle trots over to say hello to me, and I bend down to pet him. Even that doesn’t draw their attention.

“I don’t want to change things you’re not ready for . . . I just want to know how you’d feel about a possibility. I want to talk to you about your mom . . .”

I should absolutely announce myself, but instead, I back out of the barn . . . and then lean in to listen.

“It’s been really special having this time with you every day,” Maverick says.

I wish I could see the look on Linc’s face right now.

“And I’d like more of it, with both you and your mom.”

He sounds nervous.

“I wanted to ask how you’d feel about the two of you moving here. With me. At the ranch. I know it’s a lot and might seem sudden, but I’ve loved your mom for a long, long time.”

My lungs forget how to work.

There’s a faint sound—maybe Linc shifting his feet.

Then, quietly, Linc says, “Like, move here for real?”

Maverick’s voice gentles. “For real. I’d rather be asking her to marry me, but I don’t want to scare her off with moving that fast.”

“Yeah,” Linc says, laughing. “That would be fast.”

A pause stretches long enough for me to get antsy.

But then Linc speaks again.

“This . . . is kind of a huge thing,” he says slowly.

“Yes, it is,” Maverick says.

I can hear the fondness in his voice, and it makes me smile.

“Are you really choosing us?” Linc asks, his voice cracking.

I put my hand over my mouth and try not to make a sound.

“Like you aren’t just . . . being nice or helping because you feel bad?” he continues, picking up speed now. “Sometimes I do annoying things, like with the toothpaste, and I leave my socks on the floor and shoes out where they shouldn’t be . . . I’m trying to get better about that, though. I’m working on it,” he adds quickly.

My throat burns. I press my lips together hard, blinking fast.

“I’m choosing you. Both of you. Every day,” Maverick says, low and certain.

Linc lets out a breath, and so do I. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” Then Linc’s voice shifts. “But I gotta tell you something too.”

“Tell me.”

“The ranch is . . . amazing,” he says earnestly. “I love it here, and I love everyone being together. There’s space and horses and the river . . . and Pickle.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “And it would be good for Mom. She acts like she’s tough all the time, but she does so much, and she gets tired.”

My chest cracks open, and there’s no holding back the tears. I can’t believe I’m eavesdropping on this conversation.

“But . . . the only part that makes me hesitate is Otis,” Linc says.