The Edge of Heaven (42 page)

She waited, as did he. Emma closed her eyes thinking,
Come on, Sam.

"There may be a better man than I am out there somewhere for her," Rye said. "But there's no one who's ever going to love her as much as I do. No one could ever need her the way I do. I know all about the age thing. I know some people won't understand about the whole family thing, either. But do you really give a damn what anybody else thinks? She's it for me. The only woman I will ever love, and I can make her happy, Sam. I promise you that."

Long, tense moments of silence followed. Finally, she heard Sam say, "She'd better be happy. Or you'll answer to me."

"Guess this isn't what you had in mind when you wanted me to be part of the family, huh?" Rye said easily. She could hear the smile in his voice, and then the conversation took on a more serious tone. "You know, the last thing I expected when I came here was for you to treat me like a brother. But that's what you did. I'm not sure if I've done the same in return. I'm sorry about that, about everything I thought about you before I ever knew you."

"I'm just glad you finally came. Glad you're still here." Sam cleared his throat, his voice more gruff than ever when he continued. "And you'd better not ever take my daughter away from here."

Emma didn't hear anything for a long time. When she peeked inside the room, they were embracing. Rye was laughing. She sneaked away and went back outside, knowing everything was going to be okay.

They got her stuff loaded eventually and drove back to the house. It was full of people that afternoon. They spilled out onto the front porch and the backyard, laughing and talking, more than a few people raising an eyebrow at seeing her and Rye together.

Oh, well.

After seeing her chasing after him for years, she couldn't think it came as a big surprise to anyone how she felt about him.

They'd just have to get used to it.

Night was falling by the time she finally found herself alone with Rye. They walked into the backyard under one of the big trees, and Emma took a moment to look back at the house that seemed to glow in the darkened night, warmth and laughter and all the sounds of home spilling out.

She loved it here, loved her life. She loved Rye and turned around to tell him so, only to find him pulling a little jewelry box out of his pocket.

"You know..." He grinned at her. "I had a feeling that whole dating plan we were talking about might not go over so well. And just in case, I picked up a little something...."

He put the box into her trembling hands. She just stood there staring at it. It seemed all her dreams really were going to come true.

"It helps if you open it, Em," he said softly. "Otherwise, you can't see what's inside."

She still couldn't do anything. He took it from her trembling hands and lifted the lid, pulling out a diamond, an emerald-cut diamond solitaire, flawless and dazzling, which he slipped onto her finger. Kept hold of her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it, right above the ring.

"I was really hoping you'd marry me," he said.

She nodded, crying so hard now.

"You're sure?"

"There is nothing in the world I would love more than marrying you."

He pulled her to him then, lifted her again, and swung her around. When she landed on her feet once more, she had her face pressed against his chest and then heard voices coming from the house, Grace's mostly.

"Where did they go?" she asked.

"Outside," Rachel said. "And don't go back there."

"But I want to see Rye."

"Come on, Grace. Give 'em a minute," Zach said.

Was everyone there?

Emma started to laugh. Rye did, too. She loved it when he laughed.

They both turned around and there on the back porch was Grace, staring at them. Zach was tugging on her arm. Sam was standing in back with his arm around Rachel. He didn't look upset.

Rachel was crying. Zach was grinning, and Grace...

"Oh, no," Emma said.

"What?"

"Grace looks upset."

"Yeah," Rye said matter-of-factly. "She has this crazy idea that she's in love with me, that I was going to wait for her."

"Crazy, huh?"

He nodded, then kissed her softly. "I'd have waited forever for you. Although I'm really glad it didn't come down to that."

"Me, too."

He looked at Grace and shook his head. "I have this effect on younger women, you know."

"Really? We're going to have to do something about that," Emma said.

"What are we going to do with her?" He nodded toward Grace. "I think Zach just guessed what's going on and told her. She really does look upset."

"We'll make her the flower girl at the wedding."

"That makes up for losing a guy? Being a flower girl?"

"When you're ten and love pretty dresses and getting your hair done and being the center of attention, yes, it does. And even if it didn't, she can't have you. You're mine."

"Yes, ma'am," he said. "Come on. Let's go break the news to them and then, I guess, to everybody else. Geez, we'll probably have a couple hundred people at the wedding, won't we? Even if we just invite the family and close friends alone."

"At least," Emma said.

"I guess I'd better get used to it. We're always going to be surrounded."

She nodded. "It gets a little intense at times, and they can be nosy and kind of pushy, but they mean well. And they're family."

"I can handle a big family," he said, putting his arm around her.

Together, they headed toward their big, happy family.

The End

Read how The McRea's Series began...

Page forward for an excerpt from Teresa Hill's

Twelve Days

The McRae's Series

Book 1

Excerpt from

Twelve Days

The McRae's Series

Book 1

by

Teresa Hill

USA Today Bestselling Author

Chapter 1

On the first day of Christmas, eleven-year-old Emma sat in the backseat of the social worker's car, her little brother Zach on one side of her, baby Grace sleeping in a car seat on the other side.

The light was fading fast, streetlights coming on, and the entire neighborhood glowed with the light of thousands of tiny Christmas bulbs strung on just about everything she could see. Snow was falling, big, fat flakes, and everything was so pretty.

For a moment, Emma thought she might have stepped inside the pages of one of the Christmas books she read to Zach or that maybe she'd shrunk until she was an inch high and was living inside one of her most prized possessions—a snow globe.

It was so beautiful there, inside the big, old, magical-looking house, so warm, so welcoming. Emma could make it snow anytime she wanted with just a turn of her wrist, a bit of magic that never failed to delight Zach and the baby. She thought nothing bad could happen in a place like that and often wished she could find a way to live inside the little ball of glass.

Blinking through the fading light and the gently falling snow, she thought for a moment the neighborhood they were driving through looked oddly familiar, though she was sure she'd never been here before. She would have remembered the big, old houses reaching toward the sky, with all those odd angles and shapes, the fancy trim and silly frills that seemed to belong to another place and time.

Rich people's houses, she thought, the knot in her stomach growing a bit tighter. What would anybody with a house like that want with her and Zach and the baby?

Zach leaned closer to the window, his nose pressed flat against it, fogging a little circle of glass. "It's almos' Chris'mas. Ever'body has their tree and stuff up."

"I know, Zach." There were wreaths on doors and on the old-fashioned black lampposts topped with fancy metal curls, the lights perched delicately on top. There were stars made of bright Christmas lights, even Christmas trees in people's yards.

Emma had never seen people go to so much trouble for Christmas. They must have spent hours. And the money... It must take a lot of money to decorate a house like this just for Christmas. She couldn't imagine what the insides of those houses must be like. She and Zach and the baby didn't need anything fancy. Just a place where they could stay together. She couldn't bear it if they were separated. Emma had to make sure that didn't happen.

The social worker pulled the car into a long driveway and at first Emma thought they were going to the house on the right, all castlelike and fairy-talish.

Aunt Miriam—that's what she'd told them to call her—turned off the car and pocketed the keys. She twisted around in her seat and said, "Let me make sure someone's here before we take the baby out in the cold, okay?"

Emma nodded, knowing they were running out of chances.

"Zach," Aunt Miriam said. "You stay in your seat belt and in that backseat. Emma, don't let him near the steering wheel or the gearshift. Cars aren't playthings. I'll be right there on the porch. You yell if you need me."