“I think she’s more likely to say ‘ask me again in a year.’”
“So how are you going to do it?” Beckett asked, baffled.
“I’m going to make it seem like her idea and wait until the perfect time to strike,” Carter said with a firm nod.
“I can’t wait to see how this ninja engagement plays out,” Jax said.
Carter couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as he looked down at the ring again. “Do you think it’s big enough?”
“No Pierce man has ever uttered those words before,” Beckett told him, clapping a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “It might be a little too big.”
6
Beckett stayed behind at the barn to talk timelines and materials with the crew. At sixty-eight, Calvin Finestra considered himself to be in the prime of his life and had no intention of retiring. He climbed around on scaffolding like a man twenty years his junior and liked to take his wife of forty-four years line dancing every Friday night.
“It’s good to see your brother so happy,” Calvin told him.
“Carter? Yeah, Summer seems like she was just what he was missing.”
“When are you getting yourself a woman?” Calvin asked, a twinkle in his brown eyes.
“When I find one that puts the stupid smile on my face like Summer does to Carter,” Beckett told him.
Did he want to settle down someday? Of course. Eventually. He was a family man at heart. He’d bought a five-bedroom house for God’s sake. But none of the women he’d ever dated had felt like Pierce family material. Well, of course, there was Joey.
One very brief make-out session eight years ago after Jax disappeared to the West Coast had left them both confused and guilty. They had vowed to pretend it never happened. Joey Greer, with her long chestnut hair and long, strong legs and wild stubborn streak was as close to a Pierce as you can get without the DNA. But she would always belong to Jax, whether she wanted to or not.
Beckett was impressed with Jax’s commitment. He had fully expected his younger brother to head back to L.A. long before now. Joey’s frosty feelings hadn’t thawed an inch toward him, but Jax was still sticking.
A glance at his watch told him he should get moving if he wanted to avoid seeing his mother and Franklin. He said his good-byes to Calvin and the crew and headed back toward the house.
Standing between the construction on the barn behind him and the renovated farmhouse, Beckett was struck by the changes to the land he had known his entire life. Memories of growing up and running wild with his brothers lived side-by-side with the progress of today.
His brother would be married and a new generation would grow up on Pierce Acres. A smile pulled at Beckett’s lips. The change in Carter from when he first came home from Afghanistan wounded and scarred to now was nothing short of a miracle. The impossible healing came first from the land and the people of Blue Moon, and then from the nosey blonde who loved the shadows right out of his brother.
But not all change was good.
He wouldn’t think of a world without John Pierce as better than before. His father had showed him how to be a man. Everything Beckett learned in his life from farming, to women, to how to lead, all came from his father. A legend in Blue Moon, his death had created a vacuum. One that Beckett had to step up and fill before he was ready.
Still mourning his loss, Beckett had worked side-by-side with his mother to keep the farm going. And when their neighbors showed up day after day to lend a hand, drop off a casserole, or just sit quietly with his grieving mother, he had learned the meaning of community.
His love for Blue Moon was as wide and deep as his love for his family. And so, instead of moving away and joining a successful law firm like most of his classmates, he had come home and planted his roots. And had never once regretted it. He owed this town a debt of gratitude and hoped that one day his feet would fill his father’s shoes.
A giggle and flash of red caught his attention. A little girl with bouncing red curls dashed around the side of the little barn, looking over her shoulder.
She turned her head just in time to avoid a collision with Beckett’s legs.
“Hi!” she said cheerfully.
“Uh, hi. Who are you?” Beckett asked, scanning the yard for an adult.
“I’m Rora,” she announced proudly.
“Roara?” There was something unsettlingly familiar about her.
“Uh-huh. What’s your name?”
“I’m Beckett.”
She brought a finger to her lips and shushed him. “Hi, Bucket! I’m hiding. Do you wanna play? You can hide, too.”
Beckett crouched down next to her as she peered around the side of the barn.
“Here he comes,” Rora whispered with excitement.
“Aurora, come on. I don’t feel like chasing you,” Beckett heard resignation in the voice of a young boy. “Let’s go back to Grampa, okay?”
Beckett frowned. Had the farm been invaded by a family of strangers?