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“Tell me about the reasons you love my son.”

I folded my arms, then unfolded them. I wanted to be open. Honest. This was my moment — my one chance to make an authentic connection. I didn’t want to blow it by seeming standoffish.

“Dakota’s pure,” I said. “Genuine. What you see with him is exactly what you get.”

His father said nothing. He only continued staring.

“He’s also the most optimistic person I know,” I went on. “With him the glass is always half full. Sometimes it’s pretty damned annoying, honestly.”

I saw him crack a grin.

“Yeah… that’s Dakota alright.”

“And he’s got the biggest heart,” I went on. “It’s so big he’s got love for everyone. You should see him with the others. He’d die for them — any one of them.”

“He’d die for any of his fellow soldiers,” the old man replied. “That much I know for sure.”

“Yes, but it’s different with them,” I countered. “Kyle, Ryan, Jason… these are his brothers. Every bit as much as a his real brothers. The bonds between them — between all of us — they’re unbreakable at this point.”

He looked away. I could see him struggling, trying to process.

“Look, I never imagined I’d be involved in something like this,” I said. “But here I am. I’m going to give your son every bit as much love and attention as if I were marrying him one-on-one. Don’t think for a single second that we don’t do everything together…” I paused, regretting my choice of words, “or that our marriage would be one-quarter of what it could be. If anything, with his war-brothers bound to him forever, through me? It’ll be four times as strong.”

Dakota’s father pulled one hand from his pocket and scratched at the back of his neck, eyeing me carefully. In the morning sun, every line of his face stood out. There was wisdom in those lines. But also, I thought, some small measure of acceptance.

“I can see what my son sees in you,” he said simply. “You’re a lot like some of the women around here. Strong. Fierce. Brave.”

“Smart,” I added. “Beautiful. Driven.”

“Modest?” he chuckled.

“Yeah,” I laughed. “That too.”

A gust of wind picked up, blowing the grass in long, beautiful waves. They looked like the swells of the ocean, the way they moved.

“Sammara look,” he said. “I don’t know you. But what I’ve seen of you so far… I like.”

He smiled halfway, and I wanted to hug him. I wanted to bring out the rest of his smile.

“Dakota’s a big boy. If this is what he wants, it’s good enough for me.” He squinted at me with one blue eye. “But…”

But…

“But it’s not me you need to convince,” the old farmer finished. “It’s his momma.?

?

I nodded, my heart racing. I was winning him! Maybe. Hopefully. The victory was sweet, but far from complete.

“And how do I convince her?” I asked.

Dakota’s father nodded in the direction of the farmhouse. He began walking back, and I fell into step beside him.

“One way you could do it instantly,” he theorized, “would be to give her what she wants. What she’s always wanted. The one thing I tried to give her five times, but failed.”

My mind whirled, racing to figure out what he meant. And then, just as suddenly as he said it, I knew.

“Little girls.”