She pulled her hand away and took Antony’s place. She wheeled the chair across the grass to where the family had gathered.
“We’d like to know what’s going on? Stella?” But Xander was the one who stepped forward with an explanation.
“I was planning on doing this tonight, but I don’t want to wait.”
“Wait for what?” Never in her life had Calliope felt as if every single butterfly in her charge had taken up residence inside her.
Stella and Xander’s family formed a semi-circle around them. Alethea had wrapped a sisterly arm around Stella’s shoulders.
“I’ve actually been wanting to do this for a while.” Xander held out his hand and between his thumb and index finger was a stunning, antique diamond and amethyst ring. “It was my grandmother’s,” Xander said.
“My mother’s,” Helen clarified. “Sorry,” she whispered when Xander grinned at her. “Proceed.”
Xander bent down on one knee. His mother and sisters let out a chorus of “aw.” “Will you marry me, Calliope?”
It was as traditional a proposal as anyone could receive, completely opposite to Calliope’s style and yet she couldn’t have imagined a more perfect moment. She nodded, unable to speak.
“He’s going to need a verbal response,” Antony spoke up and earned an elbow in the ribs from his wife.
“Yes,” Calliope whispered, blinking the tears free as she drew Xander to his feet and slipped the ring onto her finger. “Yes, yes, yes!”
She laughed when he picked her up and spun her around. Laughed when he kissed her and hugged her and buried his face in her neck. “I love you,” he murmured against her skin.
“And I love you.”
“What’s happening?” Dyna’s whisper of wonder sent chills racing down Calliope’s arms as she stepped slightly out of Xander’s embrace. Across the field, butterflies dropped from the trees, circling and swirling, cascading down and around, swooping toward the house, encircling the family. Stella and Alethea threw their arms into the air and twirled amidst the flutter of wings. “That’s amazing,” Ophelia laughed as Iris and Jeremy joined in the celebration.
“No,” Xander murmured against Calliope’s lips. “That’s magic. Pure butterfly magic.”
* * *
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Her Unexpected Hero
by Cheryl Harper
CHAPTER ONE
“DOES ANYONE ELSE smell that...?”
Winter Kingfisher glanced up from her phone as Macy Gentry paused to take suspicious whiffs of the air over their corner booth at The Branch, the answer to nightlife in Sweetwater, Tennessee. It was Friday night, prime time for fun and rowdy crowds, but still so early that the first unofficial get-together of Sweetwater’s single ladies was tame. Subdued. Almost boring.