Woodrow Boone shook his head. “Why?”
He cleared his throat. “I’ve come to ask permission to marry your daughter.” He held up a hand. “Before you tell me all the reasons why I can’t marry her, I’d like to share the reasons I should.”
“Why the hell would I listen to a thing you have to say?” Woodrow growled.
“Woodrow,” his wife gushed. “Calm down. He’s being nothing but polite.”
“Daddy, hear him out, please,” Scarlett said.
“And, for crying out loud, do not cause a scene in front of the guests,” his wife pleaded.
Not that anyone was suggesting they move to a less crowded room to carry on the conversation. Which meant Mrs. Boone and Scarlett might just be on his side. He sure as hell hoped so. He had to give it to Woodrow. The man’s jaw muscle was clenched tight, his nostrils flared, but he nodded.
“I love her. I’ve loved her since she brought an arrowhead to show-and-tell in Mrs. Carmichael’s kindergarten class. She used to love those things, like Cal. And I love that boy. I’ll never treat her, her son or your family with anything but respect. I believe in family, Mr. and Mrs. Boone. And, if India and Cal agree to be
my family, that would mean we’re all family.” He cleared his throat. “Also, I’ll do whatever I can to make them both happy, here in Fort Kyle.”
That made Woodrow pause. He saw it. He wanted India to stay almost as much as he did. “And if she wants to go?” Woodrow Boone forced the words out.
“If she wants to go, we’ll go. Together.” He meant it. “But I think you fixed most of the reasons she had for leaving, Mr. Boone.”
“Why? Woodrow, what did you do? What happened?” Mrs. Boone asked, glancing back and forth between them.
Brody didn’t say a word. He wasn’t about to deprive the man of his moment. And, he could tell, Scarlett and Mrs. Boone were going to be impressed. “I apologized to our girl. Something I should have done years ago.” Woodrow Boone was studying him. “Told her she deserved only the best.”
“Oh, Woodrow,” his wife said, hugging her husband. “Thank you.”
Woodrow’s arm settled around his wife’s shoulder, but his gaze stayed pinned on Brody. “You know I don’t approve of you.”
“I do.” Brody nodded. “And I know I don’t deserve her.”
“But you think marrying you will keep her here? And happy?” Woodrow Boone asked. “You have an awfully high opinion of yourself, don’t you?”
“No, sir,” he said. “But, I give you my word, no man will work as hard as I will, every day, to make sure she and Cal know I love them.” He swallowed. “I just need your blessing.”
“She wants to marry you?” he asked.
“She loves me, I know that. But I haven’t asked her,” Brody confessed. “I wouldn’t do that until I’d spoken with you.”
“What about your father?” Mr. Boone asked.
“He likes her. He likes Cal. So does my mother.” He saw no point in beating around the bush. “It’s hard not to.”
Mrs. Boone looked on the verge of tears. “You really do love her, don’t you?”
“I do,” he said.
“And if I say no?” Woodrow asked, ignoring his wife’s gasp and Scarlett’s whispered, “Daddy.”
“I’ll accept it, for today.” He smiled. “And I’ll be back, every morning for coffee, until you change your mind.”
For the first time in Brody Wallace’s life he saw something he never thought he’d see in Woodrow Boone’s eyes. It looked a hell of a lot like respect.
Chapter Seventeen
The morning of the Monarch Festival was bright and crisp. After sneaking in a riding lesson every chance they got, Cal was ready to ride. Brody and Click were confident her boy would have a grand time riding in today’s cattle drive. And, to make certain, they’d offered to ride with him—even though it was a traditional Boone event.
“You sure you’re ready?” India asked Cal, for the hundredth time.