Page 121 of Hold the Pickle
I swivel to Dalton. It’s already decided then? Our agent acted like we had to win them over. “Yes! Yes, we are!”
“Let’s get a shot of the four of you,” Jed says. “Maybe by the fireplace.”
Stan and Maria move toward the giant stone hearth in the towering oak wood wall.
We line up beside them. Dalton puts his arm around me and squeezes.
Emotions wash over me as Jed shifts us around and takes several shots.
“Why don’t we walk around while we talk?” Lana suggests.
And so we do, the six of us touring the property. We learn more about the history of the ranch, how it operated, and the challenges it faced over the decades.
Lana asks me about the plans for the rescue and promises to return when it’s operational, so people will learn about it.
Eventually, Lana and Jed leave, and Stan and Maria excuse themselves. “We’ll see you at closing,” Stan says with a wave.
“You’ll always be welcome here,” I tell them. “Anytime you want to visit.”
“We’re going to live on cruise ships!” Maria says. “You two stay as long as you like.”
The couple disappears inside the house.
Dalton and I climb the rise behind the house that gives a view of the barns and the pastures and the mountains beyond.
“We could get married here, like Stan and Maria did,” Dalton says. “Plenty of room. Get some tents.”
“Oh, the Pickles always get married in one of the delis,” I tell him. “I have to carry a traditional bouquet of kosher dills, and there’s always a very fancy sandwich bar where you can make your own subs.”
He stares at me for a minute. “Okay. When among the Pickles, be like the Pickles.”
I snort-laugh and lay my head on his shoulder. “In med school, did you learn about the part of the brain that makes people gullible?”
“Oh, I’ll get you for that.” He tries to sweep me into his arms, but I wiggle away and take off down the other side of the hill.
He chases after me.
I shriek, running as well as I can in ballet flats. His shoes are much better for the terrain, so he easily catches me and soon I’m thrown over his shoulder. “You know what happens to cheeky women?”
I hammer his shoulder. “What happens to cheeky women?”
He slides me down his chest until I’m standing in front of him again.
“This?” He lifts my hand and slides a ring on it. The diamond sparkles in the light.
“Dalton?” I shift it around to get a better look. It’s not small. “How did you manage this?”
“I don’t make an intern salary anymore.”
Right. The struggle will get less and less as we go. He can help his mother. I will make real money as the head of the rescue and veterinary operation.
We made it to the other side.
I stare up at him. “Since I’m a cheeky woman, I guess I should ask if there’s a question that goes with this ring?”
“There is.” And he gets down on one knee, then springs back up again with a yelp. “Rock.”
I laugh. “Here.” We take a few steps backward to smoother ground.
