Our relationship grew without grand promises. We’d walk through downtown Silver City, eat at the local places, talk for hours. I told him my real fear.

“I worry your proposal in that hall came out of the emotion of the moment,” I said one evening. “I’m afraid that one day you’ll see me as an obligation — part of a debt you owed my father.”

He listened without interrupting. “Your father saved my life, Maisie,” he said, taking my hand. “But I fell for you because of the brave way you defended him when everyone was watching.”

He held my eyes. “I don’t want to pay you back for anything. I want to build a real life with you, if you want the same.”

Six months later, he asked me again. No wealthy guests, no motorcade, no dress uniform. We were standing in the small garden behind our own house, my father watering the flowers nearby and pretending not to listen.

Shawn knelt on the grass and held up a plain gold ring.