Читать книгу The Rancher And The Redhead - Suzannah Davis, Suzannah Davis - Страница 6

“So what’s wrong with this one?”

“Her nose is too long.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Sam flung his pencil down on a list of crossed-out names and glared in exasperation at Roni over the charred crusts of their frozen pizza lunch.

“Well, figuratively speaking, anyway,” she muttered, folding one of Jessie’s gowns and placing it in a plastic laundry basket with the rest of the baby’s clean things. “Mrs. Hawkins is the worst gossip in town. She’ll spend all of her time talking on the phone instead of looking after Jessie.”

“Well, what about Laurie Taylor?”

“She’s barely out of high school. Do you want all her randy boyfriends hanging around all the time?”

Sam reared back in his chair, eyeing Roni with a degree of belligerence. In her paint-spattered T-shirt, cutoffs and bare feet, she didn’t look much older than a teenager herself. And when she was in one of her ornery moods—as now—Sam was of the opinion that what she really needed was a darned good spanking. “You suggest someone then.”

“Agnes Phillips,” she said promptly.

“What?” His chair legs hit the floor with a smack. “She’s so old, she creaks when she walks—or rather, shuffles.” Sam gestured to where Jessie sat on the kitchen floor, babbling to herself and playing with an assortment of pots and wooden spoons. “She couldn’t keep up with the little trickster here for ten seconds.”

Roni merely shrugged. “Then you’ll just have to keep looking, won’t you?”

Sam scowled, rubbed his palms down his sweat-stained jeans and began to roll up the cuffs of his long-sleeved chambray work shirt with every evidence of severe irritation. Punching cows since dawn hadn’t done much for his mood, and Roni’s stubbornness wasn’t helping.

“We’ve been interviewing for three days now, Curly. We’re no closer to hiring anyone than when we started, and the county welfare worker is due out here at three to see how everything’s going. What am I going to tell her?”

“That you’re still interviewing applicants. No one expects miracles in just a few short days.”

He grimaced sourly. “Yeah, but at the rate we’re going, we’ll run out of Flat Fork residents before I find a suitable housekeeper.”

Roni bristled. “I can’t help it that you’re so darned picky.”

“Me? You rejected the most promising candidates out of hand.” Sam ticked off names on the list. “Davina Hodge is too strict. Mrs. Rambles is too wishy-washy. Cloretha Glover has bad breath.”

“Well, you can’t settle for just anyone as Jessie’s primary caretaker. This decision is too important to rush.” Finished with her chore, she plopped the laundry basket down beside the door. “Besides, I told you my deadline for the Artbeat cover illustration isn’t for three weeks, so I don’t mind helping out.”

“But you can’t camp out here indefinitely,” he argued.

Her lips twisted with wry humor. “I know I’m not much of a cook, but I didn’t realize I’d worn out my welcome already.”

“Hey, even incinerated pizza tastes good after a morning vaccinating calves—” He saw her expression and added hastily, “Not that I’m complaining. I appreciate all you’re doing.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“Well, uh—” He shifted uncomfortably. “Aw, hell, Curly! What’re folks liable to say, seeing as how you’ve practically moved in with me?”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” She rolled her eyes in disgust. “They’ll say that I’m just helping out a buddy until he gets this daddy thing under control. Since you’re so busy catching up on the work that accumulated while you were away, it’s simply more convenient for me to sleep here, and easier on Jessie, too.”

“I just don’t want you to catch any guff—”

“The only thing I’m liable to catch is a backache from that lumpy twin bed in Jessie’s room. And maybe ptomaine from all the prepared food we’ve had out of your freezer. Don’t cowboys ever eat salad or fresh vegetables?”

“Not if we can help it.” Her dismissal of his concern and return to her normal teasing made him relax, and his lips twitched. “But maybe I could force some down if it’s accompanied by a nice, thick T-bone steak.”

Her brown eyes lit up. “You offering to grill them?”

“Yup.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

On the floor, Jessie had abandoned her spoons and sat rubbing her eyes and fretting softly. Scooping up the baby, Roni cuddled her close. Jessie immediately stuck her thumb in her mouth and buried her other fist into Roni’s hair in what was fast becoming a familiar habit. While the child seemed to be settling in, she alternated periods of normal behavior with listlessness or extreme irritability—a sure sign that she was grieving for her missing mother. And all the more reason to provide a loving and dependable daily caretaker as soon as possible, Sam thought.

“She’s tired,” Roni said.

“Want me to rock her?”

Roni dropped a kiss on the baby’s forehead. “No, I’ll do it. But since you’ve got to hang around to meet the caseworker, I’m going to run home for a change of clothes while she’s napping.”

“Sure. Take as much time as you need.” Sam nodded, guilty that his new status as dad was disrupting Roni’s routine. Despite her protests to the contrary, he knew that her career was booming and that her schedule was fairly tight. If he didn’t hire someone soon, Roni’s work would suffer and then he’d really be wallowing in the guilt.

Not for the first time, he wondered if he’d made the right decision. A flock of butterflies seemed to have taken up permanent residence in his belly at the enormity of what he was doing. But he’d promised Alicia he’d take care of her daughter, and he was a man of his word.

“I won’t be long,” Roni said, settling the tired baby against her shoulder. “I’ll pick up the dinner fixings and give Krystal a holler, too. Maybe she can think of someone else who might be interested in the housekeeper’s position.”

Picking up the list again, Sam stared at it gloomily. “And anyone whose name isn’t Mary Poppins need not apply.”

Laughing at his morose expression, she turned and headed for Jessie’s room. “Don’t worry, Sam. I’m sure the perfect solution is right under our noses. It’s simply a matter of finding it.”

* * *

Two and a half hours later, Roni pulled her Jeep into Krystal Harrison’s sunny driveway. She felt rather breathless after her quick trip home. Since her widowed mother, Carolyn, had married hardware store owner Jinks Robinson and moved to Austin, Roni had the tiny Daniels homestead to herself, but today the house had seemed more silent and solitary than usual.

She’d lingered only long enough to check her mail and pick up clean clothes, then headed to the tiny Flat Fork post office to express a piece of advertising art that should have gone off two days earlier. She followed a stop by the library to pick up the latest child development and parenting guides with a visit to the Winn-Dixie for groceries. One more stop to pick Krystal’s brain for potential housekeepers, and then she could be on her way back to Sam’s place. Roni anxiously hoped that he’d managed to hold down the fort without her.

A trio of towheaded wild Indians erupted from the carport of the single-story brick ranch house that matched its neighbors in this small, tree-lined subdivision.

“Aunt Roni!”

“Hey, Mom. Aunt Roni’s here!”

“Did ya bring us anything?”

Roni reached for the packs of sugarless bubble gum Krystal’s boys had come to expect, then hastily tucked the hem of a scarlet silk-and-lace teddy back out of sight in her tote bag. No use giving the little rascals any embarrassing fodder for their question mill. After all, if a gal had a secret hankering for flimsy underthings, it was nobody’s business but her own.

In a town where the pace of life was slow and casual, Roni didn’t have much call for the slinky, sexy dresses she’d worn when she’d been continually on Jackson Dial’s arm. But just because her working attire was jeans and T-shirts, and her going-out attire was clean jeans and a T-shirt, didn’t mean she’d lost her love of feminine frills altogether. In a small, churchgoing town like Flat Fork, however, it was better to keep one’s scandalous predilections private.

“Hello, boys. Yes, here you go.” Stepping out of the Jeep, Roni passed out gum to Kevin, Kelly and Karl amid a profusion of thanks. “Where’s your mother?”

“In the backyard,” Kelly replied. “She says to come on back.”

Roni grinned and ruffled the third grader’s fair bangs. “Thanks.”

“You gonna come watch me play tee-ball Saturday?” four-year-old Karl demanded.

“I’m sure going to try, partner.” Roni walked through the carport into the spacious backyard littered with an assortment of balls, bats and toy trucks. Krystal, a petite blonde with a short wedge haircut, hailed her from a lounge chair on the brick patio.

“You’re just in time for something cool,” she said, pouring a tall glass of ice tea from a plastic pitcher on a nearby snack table. “It’s the lull before the suppertime, homework and ‘oh-Mom-do-I-have-to-go-to-bed-now’ storm.”

“Sounds good.” Roni flung herself down in a matching chair, smiling. Though she might complain about it, Krystal’s day-to-day family life was bursting with energy and her home full of love—something that Roni thought any woman would envy.

“I can’t stay but a minute,” she said. “I’m already much later than I thought I’d be, and Sam’s just about helpless when Jessie gets into her evening snit.”

Krystal handed the glass to Roni. “Seems to me he’d better learn to handle it if he means to keep her.”

“Oh, he does! You should just see how he melts when she bats her baby blues at him. It’s the cutest thing you ever saw.”

“Who?” Krystal smirked. “Jessie or Sam?”

Roni laughed and sipped her tea. “Well, both of them, I guess. She’s got a temper to match those red curls, but she’s a sweetheart. I swear she’s already calling Sam ‘Da-Da.’ He’s just wild to find a housekeeper so she can have some sort of routine, but so far, no luck at all.”

“None of the ladies I suggested were interested?” Krystal asked incredulously.

Roni shook her head. “Well, some of them were interested, but Sam’s so hard to please.” She explained who had been interviewed and the various reasons they’d been found unsuitable. “You don’t know of anyone else, do you?”

Frowning, Krystal hesitated. “I’ll have to think about it. In the meantime, I suppose Sam could enroll Jessie in Pharis Fitzgerald’s Mother Goose Day Care.”

“What? Drag that baby out of her bed at the crack of dawn every morning and leave her with a bunch of strangers until dusk? Out of the question!” Roni blushed at her own vehemence. “I mean, I’m sure Sam wants to keep her at home. She’s been through so many changes, you see, and she gets upset easily—”

“Sounds to me as though you don’t want to find someone to hire.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Roni brushed her curls out of her hot face. “I simply want Sam to find the best person for the job.”

“So you can get on with your highly exciting life, right?” Krystal nodded sagely. “You can’t fool me, Roni Daniels. You’re having a whale of a time mothering that baby.”

Roni laughed, unable to deny the accusation. “Can I help it if I’m a pushover for redheaded cherubs?”

“Got it that bad, huh? So tell me, how’s it really going? Everyone in this town is mighty interested in what’s happening with that baby...and you.”

“Me?” Roni blinked. “Why me?”

Krystal gave her friend a disgusted look. “You must be the only female in this town immune to Sam Preston’s sex appeal. Do I have to draw you a picture? You, plus Sam, plus one adorable orphan, emotions running high, close proximity—”

“Sheesh, Krystal, not you, too!” Roni took a long pull of her ice tea. “I’m just being a good neighbor.”

“And you never noticed that Sam Preston is one handsome hunk of raw masculinity?”

Roni fought back a mental flash of Sam clad only in a towel, and said loftily, “I admire Sam for a lot of reasons. He’s my best friend, after all.”

“Let me tell you, there are plenty of single ladies in this town who’d give their right arms to be in your shoes—especially Nadine Scott.”

Roni grimaced. Nadine was the new hospital administrator who’d gone out with Sam a couple of times. “Well, she can stop holding her breath. There’s nothing happening between her and Sam.”

“How do you know?”

“He told me. Said she’s too aggressive and wears too much makeup. I happen to agree.”

Krystal laughed and crossed her ankles on the lounger. “So that’s what you two talk about every Friday night. You dissect each other’s dates.”

“Not always. Well, sometimes,” Roni admitted grudgingly. “Sam warned me Tully Carson was a card-carrying chauvinist. Boy, was he right.”

“The way the two of you rip each other’s suitors to shreds, it’s a wonder you have any social life at all. And Sam’s going to need one now more than ever.”

“What do you mean?”

“While everyone applauds his good intentions regarding little Jessie, that baby’s going to need a mother. But the way things are, no eligible single gal can get to Sam because she has to go through you.”

Totally taken aback, Roni could only stare. “I—I never thought of that.”

“You have to admit that Sam’s one of the few genuinely nice men left around here.”

“Of course he is.”

“Not like Jackson.”

Roni’s lips twisted. “Certainly not like Jackson Dial.”

Krystal searched her friend’s expression. “You’re really over him, aren’t you?”

“After two years, the hurt fades. I could kick myself for sticking it out so long, hoping—” She shook her head.

“He’s got a new movie out, I see.”

“Yes, I know. Apache Tears. I actually did some of the preliminary sketches for the art direction. For free, of course. That’s Jackson’s style.” Shaking off the feeling of failure that remembering their relationship always evoked, she set down her glass and rose. “I’ve got to run. Call me if you think of anyone else who might want the housekeeper’s position, okay?”

Minutes later Roni sped down the two-lane blacktop toward the Lazy Diamond, chewing her lip in worry. Could Krystal be right? Had she been doing Sam a disservice by monopolizing his time, to the detriment of any other relationship he might develop? Sam was such a decent man, he deserved a woman who would adore him, someone unlike Shelly, who’d appreciate his strong ties to the land and the little community he called home.

Forcing herself to look at the situation with brutal honesty, Roni had to admit that she’d grown to depend on Sam’s steadfastness, his lazy humor, the easy, accepting friendship. Since her return, he’d been her sounding board and her shield against loneliness. Now the realization that in her need she’d been depriving him of the chance to find someone special filled her with guilty remorse.

Krystal was absolutely on target. Sam needed a wife and a mother for Jessie, but he was unlikely to find one with Roni in the picture. If she really loved Sam as a friend, then the most generous thing she could do would be to step back so that nature could take its course—even if Sam ended up with someone like Nadine Scott. The image made her lips twist in distaste.

Swallowing hard, Roni pushed the sensation aside. Whatever happened, Sam had to be free to make his own choices. Just as soon as they settled the housekeeper situation, she’d have to start disconnecting herself from her dependency on Sam—for his own good. It was the right thing to do. So why, then, did the thought weigh so heavily on her heart?

Roni was still struggling with this quandary when she parked the Jeep at the ranch house. Juggling two brown paper bags of groceries, she started up the porch steps, only to be met by the sound of Jessie’s wails coming from the rear of the house.

She rushed to set her burdens down on the kitchen table, calling out as she went. “Sam, I’m back. What’s the matter with Jessie?”

There was no answer but the baby’s continued sobbing, and alarm raced down Roni’s backbone. She hurried to Jessie’s room, appalled to find her in her playpen, red-faced, alone and wailing as if her heart were broken.

“Oh, honey!” Roni’s heart tightened at the upsetting sight, and her anger blossomed. Where the devil was Sam? How could he have left the child all alone? Lifting Jessie into her arms, she tried to calm the baby. “Hush, Jessie. Roni’s here. It’s all right.”

The tiny girl clutched at Roni’s hair, arched her back and howled in earnest, giant crocodile tears streaming down her flushed cheeks.

“Come on now, sweetie,” Roni said.

A quick check found Jessie’s diaper dry, and an almost-full bottle in the corner of the playpen proved it wasn’t hunger that fueled the baby’s ire. Noticing the child’s hot cheeks and sweaty neck, Roni carried her to the bathroom for a cooling cloth. But the damp washcloth only infuriated the child even further, and she kicked and squirmed and screamed in a pure tantrum of ill-tempered misery.

Feeling helpless in the face of such fury, her own frustration spilling over, Roni glanced out the bathroom window and caught a glimpse of Sam engaged in some task down by Diablo’s paddock. Appalled, her own fury ignited, due in part to her inadequacy at dealing with Jessie’s squalling, and in part to her incredulity at Sam’s callousness and utter carelessness. Still holding the struggling baby, she stormed outside.

Sam heard her coming and laid the cinch straps he’d been mending across the top rail of the paddock. Even Diablo, Sam’s ebony stallion, raised his elegant head from the hay bale he’d been investigating and pricked his ears toward the ruckus.

Pushing his straw cowboy hat to the back of his head, Sam frowned wearily and demanded, “Why did you pick her up?”

Roni stared. “What? She’s screaming at the top of her lungs! Are you out of your ever-loving mind?”

Sam winced at Jessie’s ear-piercing wails. “She’s been at it all afternoon. Finally figured she’d have to cry it out.”

“How could you?” Roni railed, struggling to hold the flailing child. “You don’t leave a kid alone like that. What if she’s sick? Or hungry? Or—”

“Dammit, Curly, don’t you think I’ve got sense enough to think of all that?” Sam’s dark glower was mute evidence that he was near the end of his own rope. “Little bit started up not ten minutes after you left and squalled the whole time the county caseworker was here. I tried everything, and not a damned thing pleases her.”

“That’s no excuse, Sam Preston,” Roni said, her tone accusing. “You left her!”

“Since all I did just seemed to make whatever it is worse, I thought I’d give her some space. Believe me, I could hear her just fine out here. I’m not a complete dunce.”

“No, just a heartless one!” Roni shouted to be heard over Jessie’s crying. “You can’t treat a baby like...like one of your damn cows. Of all the insensitive, moronic—”

“Curse it, that’s enough.” Sam’s expression was black as thunder, and his jaw thrust out at a militant angle. “You weren’t here, and I had to follow my best judgment—which was working just fine until you came along and got her started again.”

“I did no such—”

“Don’t try to second-guess me, Curly,” he interrupted brusquely, jabbing his forefinger at her nose. “When it comes right down to it, she’s not your responsibility.”

Sam’s harsh words landed like a physical slap and took Roni’s breath. She stared at him, feeling the color drain from her face. Hot tears prickled behind her lids. With a small cry that was barely audible above Jessie’s weeping, Roni turned and stumbled for the house.

“Curly, wait. I didn’t mean—”

Choking, Roni didn’t pause to hear the rest. Calling herself every kind of idiot, she tried to contain the hurt that bubbled over. The worst of it was that despite the affection and attachment for Jessie already blossoming in her unwary heart, Sam was absolutely right. She had no claim on the redheaded angel who was still making a devilish uproar. No bond of blood or commitment, and certainly no right—best friends or no—to instruct Sam on the upbringing of his new daughter. The knowledge left a bitter taste in her mouth.

“Roni, stop!” Sam caught her from behind just as she reached the back door, his expression stricken. “Oh, God, you’re crying. You never cry.”

“You’d better take her,” Roni said around a knot of tears in her throat. “I—” A sob stole whatever else she meant to say.

Cussing a blue streak, Sam shot a harried glance from side to side, then abruptly dragged Roni, still holding the baby, off the porch and toward his blue Ford pickup. Without further explanation he jerked open the door and thrust her inside. A child’s car seat sat buckled in the middle of the seat.

“Here, strap her in,” he muttered, then pushed Roni’s fumbling hands aside to perform the task on the screaming baby.

“Sam, what—? Please...” Distraught and unnerved, Roni tried to slip out past him, but he caught her, buckled her seat belt much as he’d done Jessie’s, then slammed the door.

“Stay put.” His mouth was grim as he came around to the driver’s side. “We’re going for a ride.”

“I don’t want to go anywhere with you!” Sniffling, Roni wiped her tears on the hem of her knit shirt and tried to glare at him. “What’s so all-fired important about taking a ride?”

“Read it somewhere,” he muttered, starting the vehicle. “Supposed to be soothing to cranky kids or something.” He threw the truck into gear and tore down the dusty drive as if all the demons of hell were after them.

“That’s if the baby has colic!” Roni shouted over the engine noise and Jessie’s continued bellows of rage.

“What have we got to lose?”

“Fine. Suit yourself.” Crossing her arms, Roni stared mulishly out the window and said nothing further.

Nearly thirty miles later, Jessie’s screams had turned to soft snores. Sam slowed to a more reasonable pace, made a U-turn and headed back toward the ranch.

“I didn’t mean it, you know,” he said finally.

Roni clamped down on her bottom lip to hide a betraying trembling, then forced herself to speak honestly. “It’s true anyway, and I apologize. I overstepped my place. She’s not my responsibility.”

“Roni, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” Sam squinted against the orange globe of the sun resting on the western horizon and ran his free hand down his square jaw. “The way you’ve pitched in, you’ve got a right to say whatever you think.”

Roni stroked Jessie’s plump fist, taking care not to wake the sleeping baby. If Sam was offering an olive branch, she would be foolish not to accept it. “Neither one of us has any experience dealing with a little heifer as stubborn as this one.”

“She’s put me through the wringer, all right. It makes me wonder...” He fell silent.

Something in the tone of his voice made her glance at him sharply. “What, Sam?”

He sighed, bouncing his fist on the steering wheel. “If I’m doing the right thing. That social worker, Mrs. Veatch, asked some pretty tough questions.”

A trickle of fear made Roni’s voice querulous. “Like what?”

“Like if I’m ready to be a single parent. If taking Jessie, even with the best of intentions, is right for her.”

“What else would it be?” she demanded, her eyes growing wide with a premonition of disaster.

“Selfish.” Sam’s blue gaze flicked to Roni, then snapped back to the highway. “Am I doing this for myself or for her? Maybe Jessie deserves a real family, with a mother and father, somebody who can offer her something more stable than a cowboy’s life.”

“What are you saying?” Roni whispered. “You’d put her in a foster home?”

“That was one suggestion. But there are plenty of couples who’re dying to adopt. She could have all the advantages....”

“Give her up completely?” Roni couldn’t hide her dismay.

“It’s not something I’d do lightly. But, dammit, Curly, I just don’t know if I’m cut out for this, and Jessie needs two parents.”

Rather desperately, Roni said, “You might get married again.”

“Old bachelor like me?” Sam grimaced. “Not likely. And I don’t exactly have a sterling record in the marriage department anyway.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” she muttered, chagrined anew that her presence might have played a part in his failure to find another partner. And now Jessie could pay the price, as well. “And what about your promise to Alicia?”

A muscle worked in Sam’s lean jaw, and his eyes narrowed, picking out the turn to the Lazy Diamond. “I said I’d take care of Jessie. Finding a stable home environment where she can grow up secure and loved is the best way for me to keep that promise.”

“You don’t have to decide right now, do you?”

Her words were so strangled with tension that Sam glanced sharply at her.

“Do you?” she demanded, feeling brittle.

“No.” They’d reached the ranch house, and now he parked the truck and turned on the seat, meeting Roni’s anxious gaze across the top of Jessie’s car seat. “But I’m going to think on it hard.”

Roni slumped with relief, then hid her reaction by releasing Jessie from her harness. The exhausted baby was limp, her cherub’s mouth parted in the soft breaths of slumber and she made scarcely a murmur as Roni lifted her free. Sam had come around to the passenger side by this time and helped Roni climb out. His hand was warm on her upper arm, holding her still as he looked down into her face.

“I’m depending on you to help me figure this out, Curly. No matter that I’m already crazy about the kid, I’ve got to do what’s best for her in the long run.”

Roni caught a tremulous breath. “I know, Sam.”

He gave her arm a brief squeeze that was part thanks, part encouragement, and they went inside. Roni hadn’t made it halfway down the hall when the phone rang. The baby on her shoulder jumped, then begin to mewl fretfully. Sam cursed and hurried to the kitchen, catching the receiver up before the next ring. Gratefully, Roni sought out the platform rocker in his bedroom. Rocking and singing softly as daylight fled and the room grew shadowy, she was much relieved when Jessie gave a tired sigh and settled back down.

After a while, Roni heard Sam hang up, and when he appeared in the doorway a moment later, a peculiar expression etched his rugged features. “The Lord works in mysterious ways.”

She gave him a curious look. “What? Who was that?”

“Maybe the answer.”

Roni’s voice was soft, to avoid waking the child she cradled in her arms, but her tone was wry. “Spit it out, Sam. You know your laconic cowboy persona drives me bats.”

“About Jessie.” He crossed to where Roni sat and swept callused fingers over the tiny girl’s russet curls. “That was Mrs. Veatch. She says the Newtons have reconsidered. They’re missing Jessie like crazy and want to begin adoption proceedings.”

“No.” Roni’s heart lurched, and her arms tightened involuntarily around the child.

“Curly, we’ve got to be practical about this.”

“Cold-blooded, you mean?” Roni’s expression was fierce. “I won’t believe it of you, Sam. Tell me you don’t care about Jessie. I dare you.”

“I’ll be damned if I let my emotions cloud what’s best for her,” he said.

“See? You can’t deny it, because you already love her as though she was your own flesh and blood.” Gazing down into the sleeping child’s rosebud face, Roni felt a wave of emotion pulling her under, forcing her to admit the truth. She gave a small, breathless cry of surrender. “And so do I.”

Sam’s expression was suddenly full of worry and concern. He squatted down on his heels beside the rocker so that their eyes were on the same level. “Curly...”

“I want this child. You can’t give her away, Sam. I won’t let you.”

He groaned. “But we’ve got to think about what’s right for Jessie.”

“How about what’s right for you? For me?” Roni demanded.

Sam threw up his hands. “So what do you want me to do?”

Cheeks pale, Roni hesitated, then met his gaze. “The right thing. Marry me, Sam.”