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I smiled over at him. “It sounds like a great childhood.”
“It was.” A misty look crossed his features before he nudged his horse’s side, continuing the ride toward the trees.
I followed him, studying his strong form perched atop Acres. I wondered if riding had been an escape for him and his brothers when they were younger. I could picture it—getting atop a horse and just running from all your problems.
But then again, maybe that’s what football had been for him. A way to run. To avoid the pain of losing his mom, of seeing her suffer and coping with the aftermath.
My heart swelled for the younger version of him as I walked behind him. The world knew him as Ford Madigan, star quarterback. But now I was seeing there was so much more to him the world would never get to see. I was lucky he had let me in.
We reached the stand of trees, prairie giving way to shade grass and a minefield of fallen branches. Under a shady cottonwood tree, Ford slowed his horse and hopped down. “This is it.” He tied the reins to a thick tree branch before coming to help me down. It was a little easier than getting on. But as I stepped back, my muscles had to adjust to solid land again. “I feel like I have sea legs,” I said, shaking out my extremities.
He laughed. “Why do you think the cowboys in the old westerns always walked so funny?”
“True,” I chuckled. I did the exaggerated cowboy walk, arms awkwardly to the side, imagining spurs jangling at the back of my ankles. “How’s this?”
He came to me, kissing me slowly. He was smiling when he pulled away and said, “I love you.” He linked his fingers with mine. “Come on, I have something to show you.”
44
FORD
Once we gotclose to the last part of my surprise, I covered Mia’s eyes. I wanted to see her reaction.
After guiding her to our destination next to the riverbank, I pulled my hands away, revealing a red gingham picnic blanket, a basket full of fresh food, and a chilled bottle of champagne.
Here in the shade with a slow breeze blowing through the leaves and the sound of the water slowly flowing by, it was pure bliss.
She covered her mouth with her hands. “Ford, this is so gorgeous. You put this all together for me?”
“I had a little help,” I admitted, going to the blanket, shucking my boots, and sitting cross-legged. When she joined me, I began pouring her a glass of champagne. Once hers was full, Ipoured my own. Then I held it up for a toast. “Mia, I love you, but I know actions speak louder than words. I have every intention of showing you just what I mean when I say that.”
She smiled softly at me, clinked her glass to mine. “I love you, Ford Madigan.”
We took a sip before I opened the basket to show her an assortment of vegetables, fruits, meats, and cheeses. I offered her a plate, and she picked several options, nibbling on some softcheese first. “So good,” she hummed. “I swear everything tastes better in Cottonwood Falls.”
“This is from the dairy,” I told her. “Liv used to work there.”
“Of course it’s local.” She chuckled and wiped a crumb from the corner of her mouth. “I’m definitely having my personal shopper pay visits here.”
I smiled and admitted that I did the same with my chef. He sourced much of my protein and dairy from Cottonwood Falls, and even my fruits and vegetables in the summertime. “Once you eat homegrown food, the stuff you get at the supermarket just isn’t the same.”
She nodded. “There’s a lot that’s different here.” Her gaze held mine for a moment, and she parted her lips like she was about to say something but closed them again.
“What?” I asked.
“I just want to know... what changed? You were so against dating before.”
I lifted a corner of my mouth, admitting, “I met you.”
Her cheeks blushed as she looked down at the blanket and back to me.
“It’s not just a line,” I promised, intertwining my fingers with hers. “You’re like no woman I’ve ever met before. You have your own life, your own goals, and you showed me that I could have both.” I squeezed her hand. “I could have love and football and an impact with my charity. No one ever showed me what was possible like you did, just by being yourself.”
Her smile was liquid warmth as she leaned closer, kissing me softly. When she sat back, her gaze was on our surroundings. “Do a lot of people come out here?”
“No, it’s just us.” I paused. “Although we do throw Maya’s birthday parties out here each year. She likes to go tubing with everyone she loves.”
“My kind of girl,” Mia commented.