The sky was dark when they pulled up to Rose's house. Jackson studied the little rancher curiously. It was very Rose. Compact and neat, with blue siding and white trim. A small dogwood tree had strewn blossoms over the tidy lawn, and they dotted the night-black grass like stars.

Rose parked in the driveway, then turned to Jackson. "I don't believe we've ever snuck into a house."

He chuckled heartily. "Not together. If I recall, you went home through the window many times."

Her lips twitched. "Maybe we should turn around."

"Are you afraid of introducing me to your mom?"

She groaned.

"Come on, Rosie, relax." His chuckles subsided, and he nibbled his lip nervously. "It can't be much worse than what just happened with my father."

Rose made a mournful sound. "I feel like this is my fault."

"No," he said gravely. "This is my choice."

"But your brothers... I don't want to be the cause of your unhappiness."

"Do you think I would be unhappy in Dogwood?"

"I don't know. Do you plan to stay?"

He ran his fingers through his hair, considering her words. "I'm not sure I can call the Creek House home anymore. It belongs to Dad."

She wilted. "Oh, Jackson, I'm so—"

He lifted her chin with his fingertips. "Don't worry about all that. I don't need the house."

"Are you sure?"

"I've never been more certain of anything."

He leaned across the seat to kiss her cheek, his heart surging with fondness for her. His lips found her face warm, her skin soft. He breathed in her scent and closed his eyes before pulling back. He could spend his whole life doing this, kissing Rose.

Her face flushed pink. He ran his fingers through her dark tresses and tucked a strand behind her ear.

"I want to stay here in Dogwood," he whispered. "I should never have let Dad tear us apart."

"It was a long time ago," she whispered back. "We were just kids. It wasn't your fault."

"So, you forgive me?"

Her gaze softened. "I didn't know what you were up against. I wish you had told me. Of course, I forgive you."

"Oh, Rosie." He took her hands and clasped them between his. "All these years, no matter where I was, I never felt at home. And I wasn't sure Dogwood was home for me, either. But it wasn't a place I was looking for." His voice thickened with emotion. "It was you. It was always you."

She looked down at their hands. For a moment, she seemed to hesitate, and his heart pounded in his chest. Surely, he hadn't miscalculated. Surely, she had feelings for him, too—

She looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

***

The rising in Rose's chest was like a current of air, buoying her spirit as though she were a bird, wings spread, soaring through an endless sky. Tears pricked her eyes, and she blinked them away, letting the droplets fall.

She could feel Jackson's pulse racing in his hands. He rubbed her fingers warmly with his.

"Do you really want to stay here?" she whispered.

"Yes," he said softly. His breath hitched. "I do. I love you, Rosie. I'm yours. Always."

She inhaled sharply, the buoyant feeling in her chest expanding until it seemed she would burst. It was as though her heart's deepest desires were coming true. Jackson was home. Here, in Dogwood. To stay. She closed her eyes, savouring the idea.

He stroked her cheek with his thumb. "You don't have to say it. I just—"

She let out a laugh that verged on tearful. "Oh, Jackson. I love you, too. I never stopped loving you."

A smile curved his lips, and he unbuttoned his seatbelt hastily to lean across the seat and take her in his arms.

"Thank God," he said with a shaky exhale. "I'm never leaving you again."

She pressed her face into the crook of his neck. He smelled like fresh-cut wood and laundry soap. His arms were strong and comforting.

"Oh, my dear Rosie," he whispered into her hair. "All these years, all this loss. To think we could have avoided it."

She pulled back. "What do you mean?"

He looked pained. "If I had stood up to my father sooner—"

"Jackson," she said gently, "you were only sixteen. You should never have had to make that choice."

He nodded, but he didn't sound like he believed her. She caressed his coppery locks with her fingertips, wishing she could give him strength.

"You stood up to him today," she said. "You did the right thing. The hardest part is over."

He covered her hands with his own. "I hope you're right."

She turned her hands over and squeezed his fingers, trying to convey her confidence in him without words.

He inhaled deeply and looked around. "Should we go inside?"

Rose groaned. The last thing she wanted to do tonight was endure her mother's nosy stare, but there was nowhere else to go. Unless...

"Maybe we should get a hotel," she joked.

Jackson chuckled. "Rosie, you're not avoiding the hard part, are you?"

She sighed. "All right. Let's go. But don't say I didn't warn you. Mom and Lily can be about as bad as your brothers."

***

Jackson held Rose's hand as they entered the house. As she opened the door, she squeezed his fingers tightly. Inside, the kitchen was a cheery space with bright, yellow walls and blue, checkered dish towels and ancient-looking but well-maintained appliances. Two women sat at the kitchen table with a deck of cards between them. They both had blonde hair, though Rose's mother's tresses were streaked with white. They each looked up as Rose and Jackson came in.

"Mom, Lily," Rose said, her voice filled with caution. "You remember Jackson."

Rose's mother wore an airy, white housecoat that fluttered as she set down her cards. "Jackson McBride." She rose from her seat. "Why, I haven't seen you since you were a toddler, but I'll eat my hat if you aren't the spitting image of your father."

She crossed the kitchen and enveloped him in a hug that shocked him. He stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do. Rose's mother was even shorter than Rose. He could have patted her on the head. As she leaned back, she smiled at him.

"Rose has told me all about what a fine, young man you've become. Come in. I'll put the kettle on."

Her voice was gracious and over-the-top but somehow warm and welcoming at the same time. He had a feeling she could fill a room with her personality. She floated away and began busying herself making tea. He looked at Rose, who shrugged.

"You remember Lily," she said.

Lily's grin was not unlike Rose's, though her hair and skin were fairer. "Hi, Jackson. Nice to see you bringing my sister home through the front door, for once."

Jackson cleared his throat as his cheeks flamed.

Lily snickered and gathered the cards off the table. "How are you at poker?"

He hazarded a small smile. "I know how to play."

"Well, we may as well pull out the table and make some room." Lily tilted her head toward Rose. "Come on, sis, give me a hand."

Rose glanced at Jackson, a helpless look in her eyes, before she crossed the kitchen and helped Lily pull the table away from the wall, then rearranged the chairs.

"You don't have to play," she murmured as she came back to Jackson.

A smile tugged at his lips. "Oh, I think I do."

He slipped into a chair and rested his hands on the table. Lily held out the deck to him.

"The one with the biggest muscles deals," she said blithely.

Rose grimaced as she took a seat. "Lily."

Lily laughed. "Oh, relax, Rose." She leaned toward Jackson, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "She's needs to loosen up, right? Mayor-shmayor."

Rose shot her sister an exasperated look. Jackson suppressed laughter, making his chest shake. He took the cards from Lily and started to shuffle.

"Okay," he said as he cut the deck and fanned the cards with his thumbs. "The game is Texas Hold'em."

Lily hooted as he began to deal. "Now you're speaking my language. Mom, are you sure about that tea? Maybe we should dip into Rose's liquor collection."

Rose finally cracked a smile. "What liquor collection?"

"I know for a fact you keep a bottle of unopened scotch in the drawer by the oven."

"Don't be a snoop."

Lily leaned her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand. "Why not? There's nothing exciting in your drawers, anyway." She glanced at Jackson. "Nothing in there for a long time, in fact."

Rose's cheeks turned pink, and she squeezed her eyes shut. "Lily, oh my God."

Jackson cleared his throat. "Wow. Your sister really is as bad as my brothers."

Rose shot Lily an irritated look. "Right? I wasn't kidding."

Lily looked smug as she slid her cards toward herself and arranged them face-down. As Rose's mother returned to the table with a ceramic teapot and four cups, Jackson finished dealing the final card.

"So," said their mother as she took a seat. "Jackson McBride. What a pleasure to see you again."

Jackson looked at Lily, then at Rose, who was still red in the face.

"Oh," he drawled, "honestly, the pleasure is all mine."