Mom and Dad wanted to see every picture twice and our filet mignon was excellent, but Blake was strangely impatient to leave. He seemed less tense, but still not back to normal.
Once we finally got out to our pickup truck, he said, “What do you think about spending the night in the cabin for a change?”
I gave him an excited kiss on the check. “That’s a great idea! It’s been weeks.”
We left the car back at our house, deciding to walk there, like we had so many times before. I loved the long trek up the mountain with Blake. It was like experiencing our love story all over again: the beautiful scenery, the fearful, harried swirl of emotions.
I felt a mixture of love and fear when I looked at the handsome man walking beside me. After all, I still hadn’t figure out what was going on with him.
After a time, Blake gave me a piggyback ride the rest of the way. It was faster, after all. As the wooden cabin came into sight, I smiled to myself, thinking of all the changes Blake had made there too. He had outfitted it with a nice queen-size bed and put a lush shag carpet on the floor, turning his solitary crash pad into a romantic getaway spot.
Blake put me down a few feet away from the door and admonished me to wait there. I watched him disappear into the house with curiosity. What could have been going on?
I didn’t have to wait long for the answer. A minute later, Blake was coming out the door.
He sat beside me said, “It’s going to be an hour or so. Is that okay? Do you mind going for a walk?”
When I didn’t respond, he explained. “It’s a surprise, but also dinner.”
“Fine,” I said with a sigh.
My walk was really a killing of time, a checking of my phone every five minutes, until, finally, exactly an hour had passed.
When I got back, Blake was opening the door, smiling at the sight of me.
“Damn, you’re timely. Come on in.”
I stepped in and gasped. There was a path of rose petals leading to the table, where there was a whole setup laid out: candles, wine glasses, two plates piled high with glistening meat and potatoes.
I turned to him, hardly able to voice all the happy sensations flying through me at once.
“Blake…what?”
“I love you, Claire Bell,” he said simply in response.
That was reason enough for me. Grinning stupidly, I let him lead me to the table. He sat down across from me. Just as I picked up my fork, he lifted his glass in a toast.
“To the most beautiful, fun, and extraordinary woman I know. To the woman who utterly transformed my life.”
“Blake,” I said with a nervous giggle, lifting my glass too, “what’s gotten into you?”
“I love you,” he said.
We clinked glasses and drank deeply, and then we dug in. The braised rabbit was just as good as it looked, while the rich, buttery potatoes tasted even better.
The whole time I ate, Blake regarded me with a content smile. He barely seemed to notice the food he was shoveling into his mouth; all his attention was fixed on me. Under his intent gaze, I was flustered. I could hardly swallow properly. Finally, I thought of something to say.
“One of these days we’ve got to check out that old ranger’s station, see how our home improvements are holding up.”
“Guess we’d need some kind of special occasion,” Blake said evasively, nodding.
“Yeah, I guess,” I said.
“I may know of one,” he said, smiling to himself.
“Oh really?” I said, scanning his face with interest.
Blake shrugged and said, “Maybe.”
I stared at him, but his face betrayed nothing. Something was definitely going on.
After I’d eaten all I could of the dinner, it was time for dessert. Blake brought out a heaping bowl of hot blueberries that had been cooked in the oven, topped with cream.
“This was Grandad’s favorite,” he said.
Swallowing a big delicious spoonful, I grinned. “I can see why. This is my new favorite dessert.”
By the end of the bowl, we were both grinning silly, blueberry-lipped grins at each other.
Abruptly, Blake left the table and returned with his guitar in his hands, gesturing to the door.
“What do you say to a few songs by the fire?”
I bounded up. “I’d say hell yes! I’ve been bugging you to sing to me for months now.”
Holding back a smile, Blake linked his arm in mine.
“And I told you, I don’t have much of a voice.”
As we headed outside, I scoffed. “You have a great voice, and I’m not just saying that because I’m hopelessly in love with you.”