“We’ll be stronger. The grant will be working. Phase one of the vet program will be up and running at Stoneridge. The coalition will be solid. Ethan will have evidence.”
“And if that’s not enough?”
He nudges Sergeant Potter forward until we’re side by side again. Reaches over to cup my face, thumb tracing my cheekbone.
“Then we fight harder. But we fight together.”
I lean into his touch. “Together.”
“Always.”
The word hangs between us. A vow. Another one to add to all the others we’ve made—some in front of witnesses, some in the dark with only each other to hear.
The light thins as afternoon gives way to dusk, the snow catching it in pale blues and silvers.
We turn our horses toward home.
The ranch house comes into view. Smoke curling from the chimney. The porch where we sat last night and talked under the stars. The door that’s always open.
Home.
A few months ago, it was just Kitty and me. Waking up every morning with the weight of everything I couldn’t control.
Now, I’m riding home beside my husband. Toward a table that’ll be full tonight. Toward a future that’s uncertain but not terrifying.
LandCorp is still out there. The fight’s not over. Might never be completely over—there’s always someone who wants what you have, always another battle coming.
But I’ve got him. I’ve got a family. And we’ve got allies along the ridge who know what we’re facing.
I turn to Daniel with a grin. “Race you to the barn?”
“You’re on.”
I take off before he finishes speaking—he’ll let it slide—and my laugh carries on the wind as he gives chase.
I beat him by a nose. I’m giddy and breathless when he catches up, grinning like I just won the damn Kentucky Derby.
Daniel swings down from Sergeant Potter and catches me before my boots hit the ground. Pulls me against him, my back to Captain Winky’s warm flank.
“Cheater.”
“Winner.” I smirk up at him, hands fisted in his shirt. “What’s my prize?”
He lowers his mouth to my ear. Lets his voice drop. “Whatever you want. After dinner.”
“That’s a bold statement, cowboy.”
“I’m a bold man,” he says. “Married a woman who stares down antisocial roosters and rides one-eyed horses.”
My laugh floats into the air before it’s whipped away on the wind.
“She’s also pretty good at riding her husband’s cock.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Only ‘pretty good?’”
“Fine,” he concedes. “Exceptionally talented.”
I smile—soft, knowing—and trail my fingers down his arm.
