The name—her real name—still felt like a gift every time she used it. No more Sadie Blair, no more Amanda Levitt, no more hiding or pretending or living in fear. Just Amy Roberts Cross, living her real life with her real name in a real home with the man she'd loved since she was seventeen years old.
Nash seemed to understand the weight of that simple statement. He kissed her again, slower this time, deeper, pouring all his love and understanding into the contact.
When they broke apart, Amy took a breath and said, "Let's go tell your family?"
Nash groaned, though his eyes were still dancing with happiness. "Are you serious?"
"Yes!" Amy laughed, already reaching for her jacket. "I told all the women to gather at Porter and Sadie's, and they're all waiting for us."
Nash's groan turned into a laugh of pure delight. "Of course you did." He shook his head, but his smile was so wide it had to hurt. "You planned this whole thing, didn't you?"
"Maybe," Amy admitted, grinning unrepentantly.
Nash glanced toward the kitchen, where the abandoned stew sat cooling on the stove. "What about dinner?"
"I'm too excited to wait," Amy said, bouncing on her toes again. "We can eat later. Or at Porter's. I don't care—I just want to share this with everyone!"
Nash's expression softened into something that made Amy's chest ache with love. "Me too," he said simply, taking her hand.
They walked out of their house together, hand in hand, as the Montana sunset painted the world in gold. Amy looked around at the landscape that had become her home—the rolling hills she'd learned to love, the mountains that stood against the sky, the road that led to family who had welcomed her without question.
This was her life now. Real and solid and safe.
As they drove toward Porter and Sadie's house, Nash's hand never leaving hers, Amy found herself reflecting on everything that had led them to this moment. The treasure hunt that had nearly cost her life. The gold they'd given up without regret. The danger they'd survived together.
All of it—every terrifying moment, every desperate prayer, every impossible coincidence—had been worth it to arrive here.
Because the truth was undeniable: all the conquistador gold in the world, all the treasure they'd sacrificed, all the riches they'd walked away from—none of it compared to the treasure she'd found with Nash.
Here, in Cross Creek, surrounded by family and love and the promise of new life growing inside her.
This was the real treasure. This was home.
And as Nash squeezed her hand and smiled at her with those impossibly blue eyes, Amy knew with absolute certainty that she was exactly where she was meant to be.
Finally, completely, joyfully home.
**
