Sadie appears in the doorway behind him, wrapped in one of his flannel shirts, hair pulled back, a mug cradled in both hands. She leans into his shoulder without thinking, and he tips his head to rest his cheek against her hair like it’s instinct.
Home, but temporary. Their own place is going up on the adjoining land—slow, deliberate, built to last. For now, the cabin suits them just fine.
Wyatt catches me looking and gives a faint, almost-smile. Progress.
The bank is satisfied. Conditional extension became a regular loan. Marlon Ennis smiled at me last week. Didn’t trust it.
Even Major Pecker has mellowed. He only attacks Ethan now. Progress.
Ethan’s been buried in his laptop for weeks. “Getting close,” he said last night, eyes red from screen glare. His jaw tightened. “I’ll find whoever’s pulling the strings.”
I didn’t push. Because I know he will.
Gabriel’s been more present at meals lately. He disappeared for three hours yesterday, came back with dirt on his boots and a look I couldn’t read. Whatever he’s carrying, he’ll share when he’s ready. That’s what family does.
I settle Captain Winky in his stall, brush him down, and check his water. The routine grounds me the way it always has. But it’s lighter now. I’m not going through the motions to keep the darkness at bay. I’m here. Present. Living.
Later that evening, Delaney curls against me under the heavy blanket, her head on my shoulder as we sit in our spot on the porch. Cold air bites at my exposed cheek, but where we’re pressed together, I’m burning. The porch swing creaks withour weight. Wood smoke drifts from the chimney. Stars punch through the canopy of the night sky, sharp and bright.
The ranch settles around us. Lights in the bunkhouse. A horse nickering in the barn. The particular silence of winter—not empty, just waiting.
I could stay here forever.
Her breathing changes. I feel it against my chest—a gathering, a decision being made.
I wait.
“I stopped taking my birth control.” Her voice is soft. Steady. “Two weeks ago.”
Every muscle in my body locks.
“Wanted to see if you’d notice.”
I did. Counted the days since her last pharmacy run. Watched her watching me. Waited.
“I noticed.”
“You didn’t say anything.”
“Waiting for you to be ready.”
She shifts. Looks up at me with those velvet brown eyes that saw me from the first day.
“I want roots here, Daniel. With you. All of it.”
My throat closes. “You sure? LandCorp’s not done. The ranch is stable but?—”
“I’m sure.” No hesitation. None. “I’ve never been sure of anything in my life. Until you.”
Babies. A family. A future that extends beyond quarterly reports and LandCorp’s next move.
I spent years believing I’d never have this. A home that felt safe. A person who stayed. A future worth wanting.
Now she’s handing me everything.
I pull her closer. Press my face into her hair. Breathe in cold air and wood smoke andher.
“You want to have babies with me.”
