“I realized something else during that nerve-racking race through the rain and mud. You know, you can rack your brain over something until you’re so confused you don’t know what you think. Then along comes a crisis, and everything is perfectly clear.”
“That happens to everybody.”
“I’ve been wrestling with my feelings for you and getting nowhere at all. I no sooner thought of those bastards riding up on you while you were asleep than I had no indecision at all. I was just as afraid for you as I was for the boys. I know I’ll have to let go of them someday, but I could never let go of you. Even if I didn’t need you as much as I do, I wouldn’t want to give you up.”
“A woman likes to feel important to her husband,” Rose said, snuggling down even closer.
George sat up and pulled away so he could face Rose. “You don’t understand what I’m saying. I love you. I finally discovered what it is, and I love you. I have for some time now, only I didn’t know it.”
She wanted to believe him. She wanted it more than anything else in the world, but she had to be sure.
“Are you sure? It’s easy for a person’s emotions to become exaggerated during a crisis.”
George gripped her by the arms and drew her to him.
“I love you, Rose Thornton Randolph. I love you so much I feel like I’ll explode if I try to keep it inside me. I love you because you love us so much. I love you because you’re beautiful, because I want to make love to you for the rest of my life. I even love you because you’re crazy enough to attack the McClendons for shooting a bull they didn’t shoot.” He put his fingers over Rose’s lips to still her protest.
“But there’s something different about it now. It’s little things. When our eyes meet at a distance and you smile—you can’t know what a lift that gives me. It makes me want to do something foolish. When you catch your skirt on a splinter or prick your finger on a dried bean hull and you come out with one of the words you’ve learned from Monty. I even like the way you wipe the perspiration from your forehead when you’re standing over the stove. Isn’t that crazy?”
Rose wondered if a person could die from too much happiness. If so, she had about five minutes left. Surely George wouldn’t talk so foolishly unless he really meant it. It was hard to give in, to allow herself to be vulnerable again, but it was even harder to hold back from something she had wished for so ardently for these last months.
“No crazier than me liking the way you seem to stand a little taller whenever you look out at your land. I’m particularly fond of you when you’re forced to drink coffee. You look like you’d rather drink from a mudhole.”
George tickled Rose until tears ran down her face. Then he put his arms around her and kissed her enthusiastically. “Anybody listening to us would think we’re crazy.”
“No, just in love.”
“Do other grown people act like this? Do they feel like they’re fourteen all over again?”
“I don’t know about anybody else, but I like the way I feel. I hope I go on feeling this way for the rest of my life.”
“And you still don’t mind not having children?”
Rose wished George hadn’t asked that question just now. It was the only thing about her life that made her sad. She would have preferred to enjoy his declaration without remembering that it came with a price. But there was no point in avoiding it.
“Yes, I mind. It was very lonely being an only child. Living with the Robinsons helped, but I always wanted brothers and sisters of my own. As I got older it changed to wanting children. Now I don’t know whether I want them more for myself or for you.”
“For me? Why?”
“I’ve tried to tell you what a wonderful man you are. It’s not just me. Your brothers and all the men who work for you agree. I can’t think of anything more exciting than watching your sons grow up wanting to be like you, watching your daughters hope to find a man only half as good as you.”
George shuddered. “Just trying to bring up Zac and Tyler scares me to death.”
“You don’t have to get defensive. I won’t try to talk you into changing your mind, but I will try to convince you you’d make a good father.”
“What for?”
“Because you deserve to think well of yourself. I don’t know what your father did or why you think you’re going to repeat all his mistakes, but you deserve to be able to look at yourself with pride.”
George was shocked to find himself swallowing hard. Worse, he had this odd watering in his eyes. For one terrifying moment he was afraid he might actually lose control of his emotions. He had learned to accept a lot since he’d met Rose, but this was too much.