Page 52 of Clashing Moon
“I’d hold it close to my own and love you like Pop loves Mama. Above all else. To distraction. Forgetting any other woman exists. Will you keep my heart safe?”
“It will be the greatest honor of my life to have your heart in my hands.” She looked up into my eyes. “This is real, right? Not a dream? A fantasy? A psychotic delusion?”
I chuckled, leaning down to kiss her, making sure she knew this was very real.
13
RAFFERTY
Aweek before Christmas, we woke to a layer of soft, dry snow that blanketed the landscape. That afternoon, I stood at the bedroom window as Arabella came out of the bathroom dressed in a sleeveless cranberry-red dress that showed off her shapely shoulders and toned arms. The color suited her complexion, not to mention the cut of the dress that accentuated every curve.
“You look stunning,” I said. “Are you sure you want to be with this clown?”
She laughed, joining me by the window and running a hand down the front of my shirt. “You’re not a clown, Rafferty Moon. You’re my hero.”
“And you’re mine.” I kissed her gently. Then we parted ways to go downstairs before we got carried away. I had a mission—a sparkling mission waiting in the inner pocket of my suit jacket. I’d had it planned for weeks—a proposal in front of both our families in the living room of our new home.
Arabella and I had fallen even deeper in love by the time we chose an architect to build our dream home. Our marriage was a bygone conclusion by then, although I’d promised her andmyself that she would have a proposal moment. Tonight was that night. My palms dampened at the thought.
It took eight months to build, but our house was complete by Thanksgiving. We’d talked about getting married many times but had agreed to wait until the house was completed so that we could start our life together in a place new to both of us. Miraculously, Arabella’s land and house, minus the five acres she’d kept for us, had sold relatively quickly. A young man looking to run a small ranch had been waiting for the right piece of land to come on the market. He and his young family were now settled into the old farmhouse and had been welcomed into the community in Bluefern fashion. Just the other day, I spotted cattle peppering the field that had been empty for far too long.
I’d had a good year financially and was able to match her contribution, making the house truly ours and not just hers. We’d also saved a lot of money because of one man—Jasper Moon. As he had since I was nine years old, he’d enriched my life with his simple acts of love. When we thanked him for all he did to help get our house ready, he just brushed it aside. “It’s what I was born to do. Be your pop.”
In my opinion, we’d chosen the perfect spot for the house, tucked near the creek that wound its way through the property. Any time I stepped out to the back patio, I could hear water bubbling over stones. We’d picked a modern farmhouse aesthetic, with white board-and-batten siding made to last, black-framed windows that reflected the endless sky, and a charcoal-gray metal roof ready to take on whatever Montana’s winters could throw at us.
The front porch stretched along the entire front of the house, complete with a swing that creaked softly in the breeze. My brothers, Pop, and I had spent a month of weekends on the front landscape. We’d put in a paver walkway made of light gray stones that led from the driveway to the porch steps. Low-growing shrubs lined the path, their evergreen foliage dotted with clusters of red berries. A few larger bushes framed the porch, softening the edges of the house.
Around back, the patio opened up to sweeping views of the mountain range, the peaks dusted with fresh snow. We’d even added a firepit similar to the one Atticus and Annie had at their house, surrounded by Adirondack chairs.
Pop had built a small bridge that arched over the creek, leading to a meadow that would be spotted with wildflowers in the spring and summer, but today, it was dusted with freshly fallen snow. As a surprise for us, Pop had also put together raised beds to the left of the patio for a vegetable garden.
The doorbell rang as we were headed downstairs. I rushed to the door, welcoming Pop and Mama. They were looking particularly well, their active lifestyle keeping them young and the cold air flushing their cheeks. Mama handed Arabella a gift wrapped in gold paper. “This is for your housewarming, not Christmas, so you must open it after the party.”
“If you insist,” Arabella said, hugging my mother.
Casper and Elliot, with baby Madeleine in a red dress, as smiley and happy as she usually was, arrived next. Soon, she would a be a year old, which none of us could believe. She’d brought so much joy to my brother and Elliot that I suspected another one would be along soon.
Soon, Thad and Sammie, with an excited Chloe bouncing on her toes and twirling about to show everyone her tulle skirt, appeared. Sammie was pregnant and due in February, and her baby bump was more than evident on her small frame. Atticus and Annie were also expecting another baby, which was due in the early spring. Their little guy was an active toddler, running this way and that, compelling Atticus to keep a close watch on him for fear he would knock over the Christmas tree. Apparently, he’d already done so at home.
Soren and Finley were the last of my family to show. They had a newborn, only two weeks old, a little girl they’d named Ellie. The new parents looked tired but happy as they joined everyone in the living.
“It looks absolutely brilliant in here,” Finley exclaimed in her British accent. “Next year, I’m going to do more decorating.”
“You’ve had your hands full,” Mama said kindly as she held out her arms for Ellie.
Arabella and my mother had spent an entire day decorating our house for Christmas. They’d giggled with glee as they’d envisioned creating a winter wonderland in the living room. Not that I was an expert or anything, but they seemed to have accomplished their goal. A tall, snowy white Christmas tree stood by the window, adorned with shimmering silver and gold ornaments. Tiny white lights twinkled among the branches, and a delicate star crowned the top.
We’d decided on a plush cream sofa, now layered with soft, oversized holiday pillows and a faux fur throw. The rustic wooden coffee table was topped with a few glowing candles, adding warmth and a hint of holiday spice to the air. Gift boxes, wrapped in simple brown paper and tied with twine and sprigs of evergreen, were tucked beneath the tree. For whatever reason, Arabella had insisted the wrapping all match. She didn’t say, but I knew that the Christmases with her father had been stark and cold. Thus, she wanted us to do the opposite. As baffling as it was to me, she couldn’t rest until every detail was exactly as she’d envisioned. If it made her happy, it made me happy.
Arabella’s family entered all together. Her brothers were on holiday break from school, bringing their youthful energy to the party. Sally, looking lovely in a blue dress, hugged me tightly. “You all set?” Sally asked.
“More than ready,” I said. “The ring’s in my pocket. I’m nervous, though.”
“Don’t be.” Jacob pumped my hand. “She’s going to love that ring.”
I’d splurged and gotten her a solitaire the size of a small country. Not really. But it was big and sparkly, and I knew Arabella would love it. She’d hinted at the type of ring she wanted, making it easy for me.
I’d called Sally and Jacob last week to ask for their blessing. They’d given it without hesitation. Sally had called me an “answer to prayer,” which thrilled me.