Chestnut Ridge
Kershaw Ranch
Some weeks later
The sun was sinking on the horizon, casting long shadows across the Kershaw Ranch. Jackson settled into an old rocking chair on the porch—a relic crafted by his late ancestors. It creaked suspiciously but cradled him as he nursed a mug of steaming coffee. His bruised face bore the raw scars of battle—the cougar’s attack still etched in his memory. Hospital smells clung to him, masking his usual scent of leather, horse, hay, and fresh air. I hovered nearby, torn between fussing over him and granting him the solitude he needed to heal.
And then, like a figure from a forgotten legend, Chayton Graywolf emerged on foot. Chayton embodied understated strength; his features etched by generations of heritage. At twenty-three, he stood tall, his sun-kissed bronze skin a testament to days spent under open skies. His eyes, deep and contemplative, held the wisdom of someone intrinsically connected to the land—a silent dialogue with nature itself. But it was his long, straight black hair that drew attention—the glossy strands falling like a midnight river, a tangible link to tradition and the untamed wilderness.
Chayton moved with the fluid grace of someone who’d danced with the earth since birth. His eyes, dark and inscrutable, met mine briefly before flickering away. As usual, his expression remained serious—an unyielding mask that rarely cracked. Yet beneath it lay a world of stories, secrets, and unspoken truths.
In that twilight moment, Chestnut Ridge held its breath, caught between past and present, rugged resilience and quiet vulnerability. And I, an observer of their intertwined destinies, wondered what lay hidden within the folds of time—a tale waiting to unfold against the backdrop of sunsets and shadows.
In all the years I’d known him—since I was 16 and now on the brink of turning 21—I’d witnessed Chayton smile only a handful of times. Usually, those rare moments occurred when he glanced at the girl who now wore his ring. It stood in stark contrast to my own family, where laughter flowed freely—a cherished currency of connection. Chayton’s perpetual solemnity unsettled me, creating an invisible barrier between us. We’d always avoided each other, our interactions stilted and awkward. I attributed this tension to our differences: my privileged upbringing versus his deep-rooted connection to the earth.
Chayton halted a few feet from me, still outside Jackson’s line of sight. His gaze assessed Jackson’s injuries. “How’s he holding up?”
“Stubborn as ever,” I replied, my voice taut. “But he’s healing well and quickly, according to my brother. Connor is a doctor in San Sequoia, at the hospital where we have been the last weeks.” I overexplained.
Chayton nodded, his expression inscrutable. “I know your brother Connor. Jackson’s lucky.”
I glanced at Jackson, lost in thought, his eyes fixed on the rolling hills. “Yeah, he is. That friggin’ cougar could have killed him! Almost did! Are there many of those around?”
Chayton shook his head, deliberate as a slow-moving river. His father, Ahanu, shared the same economy of words—men whose silence draped them in mystery. I’d always found them both unsettling, like unread chapters in a book. Half the time, Chayton said nothing, and Jackson, well, he wasn’t exactly a chatterbox either. “I say things, when I got things to say.” was Jackson’s life motto. Their conversations hung in the air, suspended, like unspoken secrets.
“Civilization encroaches on the animals’ territory, they were here long before us,” Chayton began, his gaze distant. “Sometimes, they have no choice but to wander into our world. Nobody minds the crow, the rabbit, or the butterfly among humans, but we mind the cougar. We handled it the only way we could, restoring safety for humans—for now, until the next inevitable clash. But it wasn’t just the cougar I meant. Jackson is fortunate to have you here with him now. Loneliness can cut deeper than any predator ever could.”
His words, cryptic as always, settled around us like mist. I shifted next to the fence, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. “Lonely?! I didn’t realize…”
“Realize what?” Chayton’s eyes narrowed, locking onto mine. “That Jackson was lonely? He lost his parents at an age when a boy needs his parents the most, in the worst way, if that doesn’t make a child feel lonely, bouncing across foster homes would, only to finally meet an uncle he hadn’t seen in over a decade and be told that’s not his uncle but his bio-dad. They get some years together and minute Jackson’s 18 his dad moves to faraway Henfordshire to be with some illegitimate daughter and a wife nearly half his age, to start a new family with. Your brother drops some half-dead former addict on him to nurse back to health, who then leaves him too the moment he is well enough to. And then there is you. Turned his head, he breaks up what everyone thought was the local dream couple, Jackson and Taylor, to chase you, whom he would see maybe once every few months, if that. Yeah, why would he feel lonely? As much as I tried to be a friend to him to make up for it all, I have a life of my own and won’t be the one warming his bed on long, cold, lonely nights.”
“Well, it wasn’t a cakewalk for me either. If you only knew the trouble I got into because of him. And I can write volumes on loneliness myself. You can be lonely in a crowd, you know. But go ahead and judge me, even though …”
“Even though we’ve never had a proper conversation, Briar Rose. Not until now? And I don’t think I’m the only one judging here without knowing all the facts.”
I bristled at the use of my full name. “Well, how could we have a conversation when you hated me from the first moment we met?”
“Why would you think I hate you?” His question was direct, catching me off guard.
I blinked. “Well, you’ve always been so standoffish. And I assumed—”
“—that I despised you because of your background.” Chayton finished my sentence. “You’re wrong.”
I crossed my arms, frustration bubbling up. “Then what is it? Why the distance? Can’t be because I’m white; that would make you the biggest hypocrite yet. After all, I was at your wedding, watching you marry a Caucasian girl. In case you forgot, I was Jackson’s plus one at your wedding to Ashton-Leigh.”
He hesitated, then settled near the fence by the horses, facing me. “I know you were there. In case you forgot, Jackson is my best friend. We talk, and I am not a racist,” he said. “Our very first encounter was right here at Jackson’s cabin, years ago now, while he was helping his then-girlfriend build hers. You called me ‘some Indian guy’ and looked at me as if I were a cockroach. I didn’t like that much. Who would?”
My cheeks flushed with embarrassment. I remembered that day—the awkward collision, my flustered apology. “You startled me! You were inside his cabin. I thought you were a burglar. I didn’t know you then. Plus, I was only 16 back then, barely able to drive. I didn’t realize that term was offensive. I had never met anyone with your background until then! I didn’t mean—”
“—to offend? I know. That term barely offends any of my people anymore, if we all had a dime for each time we heard it, we’d be richer than your family, I suspect. You were inside his cabin as well, much like a burglar yourself, and I didn’t know you either. Yet, all you had to do was look up at the walls. People don’t hang up photos of themselves with burglars,” Chayton’s gaze softened. “But it reminded me of how different our worlds are—a distance that goes deeper than skin. You’re from privilege, and I’m from survival, much like Jackson. Our paths rarely intersect. Truth be told, I thought you were a homewrecker, breaking Jackson and Taylor up for sport. And when you got bored of toying with him, you’d cast him aside, move on, leaving Jackson with the fallout to deal with. That’s the impression you gave most of us. We didn’t know you. Just like you didn’t know us. And maybe, you still don’t.”
I swallowed hard. “Well, if you weren’t born here, people in this town are hard to get to know. They all harbor some suspicion of outsiders. But I’m trying, because guess what? I’m not going anywhere. Jackson told me to give them time. And FYI: I never hated you, Chayton. I just thought—”
“—that I hated you.” He chuckled. “I don’t hate easily; it poisons the soul. We’re more alike than you realize. Both of us carry our burdens—some visible, some hidden and both of us have to deal with prejudice. Jackson’s my brother, in every way but blood, and I’ve watched him suffer. When he needed a friend, I was there. When I needed someone, he was there—day or night. You caused a lot of his pain and worries, but much to my surprise, you stayed. You came here when he needed you most. And you stayed when he REALLY needed you to. I respect that.”
Somehow, those words sounded like the biggest compliment from a guy like him.
I studied Chayton’s face—a young face, only a few years older than mine, etched with lines of hardship and strength in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I said. Somehow, I felt that was all that was needed.
Chayton’s shoulders lifted in a nonchalant shrug. “Maybe it’s time we stop avoiding each other,” he said, his gaze flickering toward Jackson. “We’ve got common ground now.”
I extended my hand, the tension in my chest easing. “Friends?”
His hesitation hung in the air, but then Chayton clasped my hand firmly. We shook briefly, the weight of years of unspoken words and unresolved feelings passing between us. Together, we walked over to Jackson, who looked pleasantly surprised to see his lifelong best friend and me in perfect harmony for once.
San Sequoia
The new Seaglass Haven, now home to Briar Rose, Iris Marie and Connor’s parents
Jackson’s recovery progressed remarkably well, according to my brother. I’d taken on as much ranch work as I could manage, but now Chayton showed up almost daily for the heavy lifting. He rarely stayed for a visit, though—he had his own home and a pregnant wife to tend to. Still, it was a relief. Chayton and his dad even offered to take care of the ranch so Jackson and I could attend the housewarming once my parents settled into their new place in San Sequoia.
Their housewarming celebration doubled as a joint birthday party for my twin sister and me—we were both turning 21 just two days prior. It felt good to have a big gathering again. Growing up, we’d had countless parties, but with everything changing at once, it had been a while. Even Connor and Keira had opted for smaller events with their friends of late, although it was those very parties, big and loud, that had introduced me to Jackson in the first place many years ago now. As for the logistics of getting there, I wasn’t keen on long drives, and Jackson was in no condition to drive for hours yet. So, Connor volunteered to pick us up. Sitting together in the backseat had its perks, even if my brother’s small talk occasionally went unnoticed due to our own distractions.
I didn’t worry too much about appearances. The Camerons weren’t just known for their musical talents and irreverent humor; sensuality ran in our blood. After my heart-to-heart with Chayton, I stopped holding back with Jackson. Whether it was a quick kiss, a warm hug or a full on make out session, I didn’t care who was watching or what he was occupied with—I simply followed my instincts. Of course, I was mindful of his injuries, but he seemed to relish those stolen moments.
My parents exchanged knowing glances whenever I indulged in another PDA with poor Jackson. As for my sister and Jasper, they didn’t even bat an eye—they had their moments, sometimes even more intense than ours. The housewarming party was a bustling affair, with a sea of relatives filling the space. By now, many hours into the celebration, some guests had already departed. But as the evening wore on, eventually it was just the core of our family that remained, I found myself regressing to childhood alongside my big brother Connor, twin sister Iris, and Jasper. We laughed and played, shoving each other into my parents’ pristine new pool, resurrecting all those silly water games from our youth. Even Keira joined in, her laughter mingling with that of my six-year-old nephew, Chris.
Jackson and my parents had been watching from the lawn chairs until Mom got up to start cleaning. Dad pitched in, and Jackson tried his best to help too.
At some point, he pulled my dad aside in the kitchen.
“Umm, can I get a moment in private with ya?” Jackson’s voice held a hint of nervousness.
Dad gave him a strange glance, while Mom’s proverbial ears perked up, her gaze shifting to them.
My father’s facial expression reflected his worries—namely, that this would turn into one of “those” discussions.
“Just say it, kid,” Dad said gruffly. “Whatever you tell me now, I’d tell Patches anyway.” He casually pointed at Mom.
Jackson appeared a little uncomfortable but nodded, limping closer to them. He reached into his pocket.
“I know we’ve talked about this before, back in Brindleton Bay many months ago, but a lot has changed since then. I know what you both might think and feel about this here now, but I … I’d like y’all’s blessings,” he said, pulling out an old, small box from his pocket.
My mom pressed both hands to her face, watching as he opened the lid, revealing a dainty, old ring.
Jackson inhaled deeply, then looked at Mom and Dad before speaking again.
“This was my mother’s, and along with a few old, yellowed photographs and a couple nic nacs, it’s pretty much all I’ve got left from her. I know it ain’t much, definitely not expensive, but it’s very special to me. I’d like to ask both of ya for your daughter’s hand in marriage. I ain’t much to write home about, but I love her, and I always will.”
“Oh my God. OH. MY. GOD! Yes! Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes! Oh, how sweet. The ring is so pretty! And it has such a deep story. I am gonna cry!” my mom chirped, causing my dad to roll his eyes.
“Will ya chill, Patches! He isn’t asking YOU, so calm your titties, woman!” Chase nudged Hailey.
“What’s with you, Captain Grinch? I am just excited for our daughter, isn’t that allowed?!” turning to Jackson her tone softened. “What Gump means to say is, of course, we would support that and give our blessings. You are the sweetest young man.”
“We do?” Chase raised an eyebrow.
“YES, we do! Of course we do. Why wouldn’t we?” Hailey gave him a strange and confused look.
“Well, for starters, I am not so sure I am clear on how they’re gonna make a living. Bri’s been living there for almost 6 months again, and we have yet to see a single line she has written for her theoretical writer’s career that was supposed to replace a college education.”
“Gump, don’t be so … Gump-y! Jackson had a terrible accident! Are you senile now? How would anyone be able to write anything good when worried? Seriously! No wonder it’s called MATERNAL instinct, cos you have NONE of that!”
“Patches, I don’t need tits to get it, I do, but news to me that you can feed a ranch with worries, maternal instincts and care. Still need money for that, and I sure hope Jackson isn’t dreaming about riding in those rodeo things anytime soon, if ever again. I am not sure I want my daughter to eventually marry some guy with a career to make her a widow before most people even graduate university.”
“Chase Cameron! You did NOT just say that!” Hailey’s voice crackled with indignation. “I’m sure they’ll figure it out. And if not, we’re saving money on Bri’s tuition fees and such. Instead, we give it to them to help out. We’re her parents. It’s what parents do!”
Chase rolled his eyes again, then turned his gaze toward Jackson.
“Look, kid,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact, “I like you. A lot. You know that. But my baby just literally turned 21. She dropped out of uni, and if I embrace your idea here, she’ll never go back. Not sure I like that too much. Then again, my baby and you both are adults, supposedly. Can’t stop it, but I am not thrilled, far from it. This isn’t personal, Jackson. Not a reflection on how I feel about you. Has nothing to do with your heritage or status of wealth, and everything to do with the reasons I gave. And unlike my lovely wife here, I am not too keen on bankrolling my daughter’s prairie adventures. I really hoped to have all three of my kids in good careers before they start thinking about leveling up to spouses. So far, I only got one of them that far, Connor is doing well in his doctor-career, has a wonderful home, loving wife and precious son. Iris seems to be laser-focused on realizing her attorney dream career, but I worry that if her sister now drops all to be someone’s wife as a full-time career, she just might too, and I am not gonna support such nonsense! Not to mention that I know Jasper would never stay at college by himself, he’s already having a rough time with Bri gone for good, if Iris leaves, so will he and where does that leave us? No thanks. I’d like to wait until after I am dead before my money goes to the fruit of my loins.”
Hailey squared her shoulders, hands on her hips, and faced her husband.
“Oh, isn’t THAT just extra-rich now?” Her eyes flashed. “All that coming from the boy with the uber-wealthy and famous parents who proposed to me at his 18th birthday party! And just as a reminder, I did say yes, and I will never forget their faces when they picked me up at the airport with a new piece of jewelry, but I’ll tell you it wasn’t their favorite piece of news! And in case you forgot, I was still 17 at that time, at least for a few more weeks, Mr. Settled-in-Careers-first. Where were our careers then, other than almost high school graduates?”
Chase leaned against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms. “Well, that was different. We had a long-distance relationship, I was still a vampire then, I could barely see you without either our parents or paparazzi hounding us, and it was only a few months before we were off to college together, from which—unlike the one of our daughters in question here— we both GRADUATED, had started a band, dealt with Colton’s meltdown. We’ve been through rough times too, but came out with solid careers that made us very wealthy in our own right, I never needed my parents’ money beyond college, and we didn’t get married till we were what, 24?”
“A-ha!” Hailey’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Do I have to point out the ways you’re currently being a hypocrite? Jackson just wants to propose to Bri, at 21, making her almost 4 years older than I was when you proposed and you didn’t even bother asking my parents first! And he didn’t say they’d get married tomorrow, huh?”
Chase closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling deeply, then fixed his gaze on Jackson.
“You’re witnessing all this?” Chase said, his voice a mix of amusement and warning. “Pay attention and take notes, because this is what marriage to Bri will be like. Just like this. You still get to have your own opinions, but they don’t matter at all anymore unless they match your wife’s. Ouch!” He winced as Hailey playfully punched his arm.
Jackson grinned, breaking the tension. “Yes, sir. Lookin’ forward to it. And not to sound cheeky here, but have ya met yer daughter? Bri’s always been like that.” he replied.
Hailey nudged Chase. “Well…?” she prompted.
Chase smiled, defeated. “Fine, sure. You have my blessing, son. Welcome to the crazy Cameron family, with a sprinkle of even crazier Hanson genes. Ouch! Will you stop abusing me, woman!?”
“If you quit talking nonsense, sure! We have EXCELLENT genes!” Hailey retorted.
“Yes dear,” Chase said resigned, and with a wink and a grin at Jackson added, “two very important words to learn before you take that next big step after the one you are planning on taking. Happy wife, happy life.”
Jackson received careful hugs from both, then stepped outside. The sun was starting to dip, casting everything in a warm golden hue.
He grinned when he spotted Bri still in the pool, she had Jasper trapped in a headlock while Iris stuffed floating toys into his swimming trunks.
“Connor, Keira, help me!” Jasper wheezed between fits of laughter.
“Jas, you brought this upon yourself with that big mouth of yours. If I lend a hand, your trunks are history. One more wisecrack like the one that landed you in this mess, and I’ll toss your breeches over the edge into the harbor—along with you!” Connor’s chuckle held a hint of mischief.
Bri released Jasper, who fished out the toys from his shorts, flinging them at 6-year-old Christian who had been dying for laughter at Jasper receiving the ‘abuse’ at the hand of his twin aunties. The little boy wrinkled his nose, complaining about his toys having been “down there—eww!”
Jasper clapped back, “No sense of humor in this bunch.”
Iris swam toward him, taunting, “Need more, do ya?!”
And then Bri spotted Jackson. He sat on the edge of the pool, one leg dangling in the warm water, his bandaged leg propped up. The late afternoon sun kissed his tan skin, revealing the contours of a body shaped by hard ranch work. His faded cargo shorts and worn t-shirt clung to his muscular frame. The brim of his cowboy hat cast shadows on his face, but she could still see the curve of his smile. Bri swam over to him, her heart fluttering. She leaned in, careful not to soak him or hurt his still-healing injuries, and kissed him gently. “Where’d you wander off to?”
“Ah, helped your folks tidy up a mite and had a good ol’ chat.”
“Sorry you can’t swim yet. Soon, though. We’ll come back, and you can just float. This pool’s so nice, and heated.” Bri swooned.
“Yeah. Bri, mind if I borrow ya for a spell? Feelin’ like a little stroll, over by that overlook ya fancied near the restaurant yer parents took us all to last night. Since it’s just a short walk, figured it’d make a fine spot for a snapshot.”
“Oh, yes! Great idea! I am all about making my Insta crowd jelly and a romantic pic with my handsome man with the harbor and the red bridge in the background during a great sunset would be perfect! Let me freshen up and change. Gotta do something with the hair.” she spoke while pulling up out of the pool, then with another peck on his cheek, she dashed to the guest room where they were staying for a few more days.
Jackson labored up, receiving help from behind.
“Not wasting any time, huh?” he heard Chase’s voice behind him.
Jackson grinned, turning, shaking his head. “Can ya blame me? Feels like I spent a heap of years chasin’ her. There was a spell when she didn’t want me, well she did, but not openly, I was her dirty lil secret, reckonin’ for all them reasons ya listed earlier. Don’t want you to remind her I ain’t worth it.”
“Jackson,” Chase Cameron said, inhaling deeply, “if I thought you weren’t worth it, you’d know. And if Bri thought you weren’t worth it, we wouldn’t be having this discussion. Now, I want the best for all my kids, but with Connor, I was never so timid. Iris made her choice, and honestly, as annoying as that lil shithead Jasper can be, she couldn’t pick anyone I’d like better for her. That boy’s got grit, smart as a whip, funny, even if he’s a bit of a wild card. Reminds me of my old band days, you know? As he likes to remind everyone, if he turns out a dud, it’s my own damn fault—I helped raise him till he was 16.”
Chase’s eyes narrowed, remembering Sterling Covington, Iris’ ex-boyfriend. “Never liked that Sterling kid. Heard he dated my kids’ cousin on their mother’s side afterward, and even Kristin dumped him and found someone else, heard they got engaged too. But Bri…” He paused, tapping his fingers on his worn-out jeans. “Bri was different. I know you don’t like hearing this, but Brad, her ex, is a good kid—polite, genuine, caring and above all, he really cared about Bri. Hard to find those traits these days, especially among the old guard back in the Bay.”
He leaned forward, voice dropping to a low rumble. “But you, Jackson, weren’t exactly every daddy’s dream for their daughter at first. All the trouble she got in because of you, you starting fist fights at our parties, from what limited knowledge about you and the situation I had to work with at the time you seemed like bad news, Patches and I both just couldn’t get what Bri saw in you, but I see it now, and we both know you won big with my Missus. Hailey already proverbially adopted you. And as for Bri, you’re what she needs. And what she wants.” Chase’s gaze bore into Jackson’s. “As a father, watching my sweet daughter spend her teen years grounded, lying to see Connor, stealing his car, even ending up in jail—all because of you—it’s been rough. But as my lovely wife likes to remind me, she and I kinda did the same at some point, so, who am I to judge. You did what you both felt you had to.”
His expression softened. “Now, as a man, I’ve been where you are, not sure I am the right man for that girl I want. Hailey was always so wholesome, so perfect and I was … well, not. We had a long-distance relationship for years, I had to keep my true identity a secret for a while. Different reasons, but the same feeling—the thrill of sneaking around, the guilt of lying about it.” Chase’s eyes twinkled. “I like you for Bri. And I can see how she completes you too. So go on, Jackson. Propose already. Trust me, the result will be worth the feeling of having a coronary, you’ll know what I mean if you don’t already.
“Thank ya, Sir.” Jackson tipped his Stetson with a relieved smile.
“Sure thing, son. And please, PLEASE, start remembering to call me Chase and my wife Hailey. May come as a shock to you, kid, but we’re not the formal types. Go get her, tiger.” Chase patted him on the shoulder, just as Bri’s voice echoed from the hallway, talking to her mother.
“Wait! I should have changed! I don’t look like I should for … that.” Jackson panicked.
“You look like boys your age look like in the last warm rays of early Autumn in San Sequoia, kid. If you want this to be a surprise, showing up in some sort of formal wear now would ruin it, as that is very much out of character for you. Bri may be naïve at times, but I didn’t raise idiots. Besides, I think this whole cowboy theme you got going is what gets most girls’ hearts racing. So, stay in character, as they say in my business.” Chase flicked against Jackson’s trustee old cowboy hat, dislodging it.
“What business is that, Chase? Retirement? Meets at the Bingo Hall?” Jackson landed a playful jab while fixing the position of his hat, chuckling as Chase laughed.
“You lil’ shit! Bingo, my ass! Get out of here before I change my mind and turn into Brad’s father on you.”
“Something tells me your wife would set ya straight in a hurry.” Jackson grinned.
“True. Hailey wouldn’t stand for it. At times I thought she’d lay out old Dr. Cunningham Sr. and I’d have to figure out how to make a body disappear.” Chase winked.
Soon after, Jackson and I left, me still blissfully unaware of all the aforementioned at that point. Hand in hand, we strolled toward the overlook spot. Jackson hobbled slightly, still healing from the cougar’s attack. The waves crashed ashore, and the seagulls’ calls felt like a familiar lullaby, even though this coastline was different from my childhood home. I closed my eyes and inhaled the salty air, remining me so much of the place I used to call home.
Jackson bent down and kissed me, sending tingles down my spine. We made out for a while until he pulled away.
“Bri,” he began, his drawl more intense, his eyes searching mine, “I reckon I ain’t much for fancy speeches or flowery words, but I’ve got somethin’ to say to ya. Somethin’ important,” he paused, thumbing the brim of his Stetson. “Look, ya decidin’ to come live with me was big for me. Bigger yet was when ya didn’t leave my side after that dang cougar got me good. Not once didcha lay the ‘I told ya so’ on me, you just were there, lovin’ on me, helpin’ me, like an angel from above.” Another pause, clearly, he was emotional.
His voice carried the weight of the world, before he swallowed and continued. “I know what yer givin’ up, I seen it, I been there with ya, and even I can’t deny the luxuries are nice. But you turned yer back to it, all for a life that doesn’t come naturally to you. Means a lot to me. You’re a better woman than I am a man. I should’ve talked you out of it, sent you back to college to become the queen of stages, to shine as ya should. But I ain’t that kind of man. I ain’t strong enough to do that, I am greedy, I want you with me, all the time for the rest of my days and I’ll do all I can to never make you regret that choice.” Jackson stepped back, lowering himself onto one knee. His hopeful gaze met mine. “Briar Rose Cameron, will you make me the happiest, luckiest man in the world and become my wife?”
My mind went blank, my heart a wild stallion galloping against my ribs. Jackson—the boy who’d once been my teenage crush, now a rugged and resolute young man—held out an old, delicate ring. I recognized it from the old photos he’d shown me. The same ring that had graced his mother’s finger, a testament to love weathered by time.
My family had gathered at the garden fence of my parents’ brand-new home, only some hundred yards away, their anticipation palpable. Jasper had hoisted my nephew Chris onto his shoulders, ensuring he didn’t miss a thing. Keira’s voice cut through the air: “Say yes already!”
Jackson’s eyes bore into mine, waiting. The weight of history pressed upon me—the shared laughter, the whispered secrets, the storms weathered together. I lowered myself down onto my knees as well, leaned in, my lips brushing his, and whispered, “Yes, Jackson. From the depths of my heart, I will marry you.”
Jackson slid the ring onto my finger—a perfect fit, like destiny itself had carved it. Tears blurred my vision as I turned toward our families. “I SAID YES!” I shouted, the words echoing across the sun-kissed field and cheers erupted.
And there, amidst the cheers and the golden evening light with the famous red bridge behind us, I realized that this ring held more than beauty. It cradled our love—a resilient thread woven through many years now, a story that seemed not meant to be, but clearly it always had been, connecting us to the past and propelling us into an unwritten and uncertain future.
“It’s beautiful,” I murmured, gazing at the ring. “And I love you, you crazy man.”
Jackson grinned, pulling me close. “I love you too, Briar Rose. I think I always have, all my life, I just had to meet you first.”
EchoesOfLegacy 