“Don’t I know it,” Maeve said, feeling her heart race at the prospect of seeing him.
As they reached the garden, Maeve realized it was more than just one long wall—it was a courtyard of walls with more walls in the middle. They were all capped with heavy blocks of slate, and many had metal placards engraved with names and dates of loved ones.
Chase stopped when they reached the first wall, and pointed, and Maeve saw Gage sitting on a stone bench next to a wheelchair. “That’s where my grandma is interred—she died two years ago—which is also when Dutch’s own health took a downward turn. I’ll let you take it from here,” he said with a gentle smile.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” she said.
“I think you can handle it.”
“All right,” she said nervously. “If you say so.”
Chase smiled, and she watched him walk back to the church, and then pressed her lips together, gathering her resolve and courage. As she walked to where Gage was sitting, she thought she could hear music, and as she drew near, she realized it was coming from his phone.
Hearing footsteps, Gage looked up, and then stood in surprise. “Maeve! What are you doing here?”
She swallowed. “I came for your dad’s service.”
Gage bit his lip. “I didn’t expect you . . .”
She nodded. “I know. I’m really sorry about your dad, Gage. Chase’s words—they . . . they were so moving. I almost felt like I knew him.”
“He did a great job. I could never . . .”
“I couldn’t, either.” She looked over at Dutch and smiled. “Is this your grandpa?”
Gage smiled. “Yeah, this is Dutch.” And then he knelt in front of the old man. “Dutch, I want you to meet someone,” he said softly. He pulled her over. “This is Maeve—the girl I’ve been telling you about.”
The old man looked up, his blue eyes seeming to smile as he nodded. Then he looked back at his grandson. “Is this the one you’re goin’ to marry?”
Gage bit his lip as tears filled his eyes. “Yeah, she’s the one,” he said, and then he looked up at Maeve. “But I’ve been a bit of an ass lately.”
“Well, I could be an ass, too, in my day. Maybe she’ll forgive you, eh?”
Gage nodded as his tears spilled down his cheeks. “I hope so,” he whispered.
“Well, why don’t you stop your blubberin’ and ask her, for Pete’s sake . . . and then we’ll both know.”
“To forgive me . . . or to marry me?” Gage asked.
“Aren’t they the same thing?” Dutch asked, his eyes sparkling with wisdom.
Gage nodded again and bit his lip again, feeling his heart pound. “I guess they are. . . .”
He turned to Maeve. “I’m so sorry for how I’ve behaved . . . and treated you, Maeve. I have been an ass . . . and listening to Chase talk about our dad today made me realize what a fool I’ve been. It broke my heart to finally realize I’d let the opportunity to make amends with someone I love slip away . . . and I don’t ever want that to happen again.”
Maeve pressed her lips together and nodded. “It’s okay, Gage. I know you’ve had a hard time.”
Gage shook his head. “No . . . it’s no excuse. Everyone has difficult things happen . . . and the things that’ve happened to me don’t even compare with what other people have been through.”
Maeve nodded as tears filled her eyes. “You’re going to make me start crying again,” she said softly. “You Tennyson men sure know how to make a girl cry.”
Gage smiled and held her face in his hands, and with his thumbs, he gently brushed her tears away. “I’ve missed you so much,” he said. “I wanted so badly for you to be here.”
“I’m here,” she said, mustering a smile.
He nodded and searched her eyes. “I’m really sorry, Maeve. I now realize what a surprise—what a wonderful surprise—it must’ve been for you to have your son come back into your life . . . and I—I was so selfish to act the way I did. Can you ever forgive me?”
Maeve pressed her lips together, recalling everything she’d thought about when she’d been driving here—everything Gage had been through when he was younger . . . and how she’d known the minute she met him at Ben and Macey’s picnic—by the way he’d scooped his sweet, sleepy puppy into his arms . . . and talked about listening to the loons at night when he was a boy, even knowing their calls—that he was shy and old-school. And how it absolutely didn’t surprise her that he’d kept all his painful memories—from having his heart broken to feeling like his dreams were being dismissed by his father, and from losing his favorite cow to tragically losing his brother—tucked deep in his heart, never wanting to share them. It was just like him to press on, trying to do his best and make his way in the world . . . because isn’t that what we all do when we’re hurting? Gage had been doing the best he could, not wanting to burden others with his troubles, but at the same time, wanting to trust and love . . . and be loved. How could she not forgive him? “I already have,” she said.
Gage shook his head. “I don’t deserve you.” He paused, looked around at their surroundings, and realized Dutch was watching them. He turned back to Maeve and searched her eyes. “I already talked to your parents . . .”
“You did?!”
He nodded and smiled. “They gave us their blessings . . . and I already have a ring, too, but I don’t have it with me,” he added. “And this”—he gestured around him—“isn’t the setting I had in mind, but . . . Dutch is here, and that is probably the best setting I could ask for, so . . .”
He knelt down in front of her, and Maeve’s heart raced—this was not at all what she had expected to happen today, or right now . . . or maybe ever—and she suddenly felt as if it might beat right out of her chest.
“Maeve, I can’t imagine my life without you in it,” Gage said softly. “I love you with all my heart . . .” He glanced back at his
