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“Yeah? Of course, I did.”

“Why?”

“Why?” He huffed a chuckle. “Because if you’re not here, then I don’t want to be, either. Wherever you are is where I want to be.”

“You’d leave the ranch — leave your inheritance — because of me?”

“I love you. Of course, I would. I don’t think Grandfather would disinherit me over it, but if he did, well, whatever. I didn’t know I had rich relatives until 18 months ago. I always figured on making my own way in life.”

He’d done a lousy job of it, but that was neither here nor there anymore. Things had changed. He’d learned a lot about himself, about God, and about love. Those were far more important than anything he’d ever inherit from the Sullivan side.

“Weston, I think that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” Paisley dabbed at her eyes.

His arms ached — his heart ached — because she was so far away, and she was crying. He wanted to hold her, to kiss her, to make sure she understood how much she meant to him. Everything. Everything except Jesus.

“I bought my return ticket for Saturday.”

Still six days away. He’d survive, wouldn’t he?

“I want to be there for Pastor Marshall’s next sermon. That will complete the series, won’t it?”

“Yes, I think so. Then Eli starts a series on treasure. Apparently, he does this every summer in conjunction with the annual Pot of Gold Geocaching Event.”

“Have you ever gone geocaching?”

“Can’t say that I have. You?”

Paisley shook her head. “It might be fun sometime. With you, anyway. I don’t have time to go all in like Creekside Fellowship does every summer.”

“That gives me an idea. I could ask Eli if he wants to put some caches around the ranch on the Fourth. Maybe that will get some of the townspeople up for our celebration.”

Her face brightened. “That sounds fun! Sure, ask him. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done.”

“I wondered if I had stepped on your toes.”

Paisley shrugged. “There’s no way I could have pulled this off without your intervention, especially from here. I can only be thankful you made it possible for me to stay a little longer.”

“Just not too long.”

“Never. I can’t wait to get back… home. With you.”

Like the Grinch’s, Weston’s heart expanded four sizes in one go, until he thought he’d burst the snaps holding the front of his shirt closed. “I can’t wait, either. But can we talk like this every day? It will help.” He gave her his best puppy-dog eyes.

She smiled. “I think we can. And Weston?”

“Hmm?”

“You said you loved me.”

He’s said it like a dozen times now. He raised his eyebrows. waited.

“I love you, too. Thank you for loving crazy me.”

“There’s no one I’d rather love.”

Chapter

Twenty-Three