"No. The system's flawed, Savannah. Overburdened. But it tries."

"I didn't need it." She lashed back at him. "I got work, and I worked hard. I waited tables, I served drinks, I cleaned up slop. It didn't matter what kind of work, as long as it paid. He never went hungry. My son never went hungry, and he always had a roof over his head. He always had me. He always knew I loved him and that he came first."

"The way you never did."

"The way I never did. Whatever it took, I was going to give him a decent life. If that meant taking off most of my clothes and dancing for a bunch of howling idiots, what difference did it make? I didn't have an education, I didn't have any skills. If I'd been able to go to art school—" She bit off the thought with a furious shake of her head.

"Is that what you wanted?" He kept his voice neutral, as he would have with a fragile or high-strung witness. "To go to art school."

"It doesn't matter."

"It does matter, Savannah."

"I wanted Bryan. Everything else was secondary. You wanted to know about men. There were a few. Scores less than you've imagined, I'm sure. I wasn't dead, just driven. I never took money from them, but I took food a couple of times, and there's not much difference. And, damn you, I'm not ashamed of it. The only reason I didn't steal was because if I'd been caught, they might have taken Bryan. But I would have stolen if I'd been sure I'd have gotten away with it. I didn't know I could peddle my paintings until one of the girls at the club asked me if I'd do one of her for her boyfriend and offered me a twenty. That's when I got the idea to take Bry to New Orleans."

She was pacing the room as she spoke, her words rushed and hurried in her effort to get them out and over. But now she stopped, slowed herself. "That's all there is. At least any other, finer details escape me at the moment." She turned to him again, her face calm now, and cold. "Cross-examine, Counselor?"

"You could have taken other routes."

"Sure."

"Safer ones," he added. "Easier ones, for you."

"Maybe. I didn't want safer ones. I didn't want easier."

"What did you want, Savannah? What do you want?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters." He rose, but didn't go to her. "It very much matters to me."

"I want a home. I want a place where people don't look at me like I'm dirt. Where the people who think they're decent don't whisper behind their hands."

"You have that here."

"And I'm keeping it."

He had to sacrifice his pride to ask, but he discovered it wasn't so very difficult. "Do you want me?"

Taken by surprise, she only stared for a moment. "That's not the issue."

"Then maybe I should put it another way." He reached into his pocket, drew out the small box he'd tucked in it before he left the farm. After lifting the lid, he held it out. "I came here to give this to you."

The ring was a simple, traditional diamond in an outdated and lovely gold setting. Mesmerized, Savannah gaped at it before slowly stepping back.

"It was my mother's," Jared said, in a voice that betrayed none of the raw nerves inside him. "It went to me, as I'm the oldest. I'm asking you to marry me, Savannah."

She couldn't breathe. Bryan would have recognized the weight that had dropped down on her chest. "Didn't you hear anything I've just told you?"

"Yes, everything, and I'm grateful you told me, even under the circumstances. This way I can tell you I love what you were, what you are and what you will be. You're the only woman I've ever loved, and it's so amazing to find you admire someone as much as you love them."

She stepped back again, as if he were holding a gun instead of a promise. "I don't understand you. I don't understand you at all. Is this some sort of vicious payback because I ruined your clothes?"

"Savannah." His voice was patient now. "Look at me."

She did, and the weight on her chest doubled and pushed tears into her eyes. "Oh, God. You mean it."

"You're going to cry." He almost shuddered with relief. "Thank the Lord. I thought you were going to toss it in my face."

"I thought... you didn't think I was good enough for you."

The smile that had beamed onto his face froze. "Do I deserve that?" he murmured. "Sweet God, I hope not. I'm supposed to be good at making my case, but I've sure as hell screwed this one. I was afraid. It's hard for me to admit that. I'm a MacKade, and we're not supposed to be afraid of anything. I'm the oldest MacKade, and I'm supposed to be able to handle anything. But I couldn't handle how I feel for you. I was afraid of what was behind you, of what you wouldn't say to me. I thought it might explode in my face and ruin what I wanted to build with you and Bryan. And part of me was afraid—terrified, really— that you'd be able to toss me aside the way you did that photograph."

"Bryan." The weight on her chest dissolved like water. "You want Bryan?"

"Am I going to have to get down on my knees here?"

"No, don't." She wiped impatiently at the tears. "I couldn't handle it. I was worried that— It seemed that-"

"I wouldn't want him, because it wasn't me who rolled in the hay with you ten years ago? That wasn't it. Maybe it was part of it for a while. Pride gets in the way. What bothered me most is thinking of you being hurt, of the two of you scraping by. I can't help wanting to go back and save you, to protect you and Bryan. I can't help feeling, well, a little unmanned, really, because I can't go back. And because I know you don't need me to. And maybe it bothered me some that you'd managed to turn it all around into something admirable. You see, I wanted to take care of you, both of you, but you've done just fine without me."

"We'd do better with you."

Emotions trembled through him. Stepping forward, he laid a hand on her wet cheek. "That's the best thing you've ever said to me. That's the second incredible thing that's happened to me today."

She managed a smile. "There was another?"

"When I talked to Bryan in the woods. We were sitting on the rocks, where two lost boys met, trying to find their way home."

"It's a strong place."

"Yes. Not as sad after today as it once was. Bryan was giving me advice on how to coax you out of being mad at me. I was supposed to bring you flowers, which I will, and take you on a date, so that you could sing in the shower while you get ready."

She gave a watery, embarrassed chuckle. “He's got a big mouth."

"Then I'm supposed to come up with some love words, like in the movies. Girls like that stuff, I'm told."

"I guess I'm going to have to start keeping an eye on those girls. I'm glad you talked to him, Jared."

"That wasn't the best part. I told him I was going to ask you to marry me and that I wanted to be his father. He hugged me," Jared murmured, struck by it all over again. "It was just that easy. He had a lot of faith that I'd be able to talk you into it. I hope I'm not going to disappoint him."

She did the simple thing and leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Before I answer the question, I'd better warn you. I don't believe in quiet, civilized divorces. If you try to worm out of this, I'll just have to kill you."

"Sounds fair, as long as it holds true for both sides." He turned his face into her hair, and knew he was home. "Ah, morning sickness and thirty-two hours of labor might put you off from trying again."

She squeezed her eyes tight, squeezed him tighter. He was offering her more children. He was offering her a future.

"Don't be an ass, MacKade. I'm tougher than that. And this time around I'd have someone to swear at in the delivery room."

"I want to be there for you, through everything. You're going to have to learn how to need me."

"Too late," she murmured. "I already know all about that."

"Take my name, Savannah. Take me." "Savannah MacKade." Closing her eyes again, she held on tight. "I think it suits me just fine."