“Wyatt…” I whisper, unable to find my voice. “You said you’re going to?—”
“I don’t care what I said. That was before.” He holds a hand out for me. “Before you, Anna.”
I don’t even think, I just move. Closing the short distance between us until I’m in his arms. He wraps me up, engulfing me in his big, strong embrace like it’s exactly where I belong.
When he kisses me, the whole world falls away. The clinic, the onlookers, the gossip…none of it matters.
He pulls back, just enough to look into my eyes. “So, Doc? What do you say? Will you marry me and build this happy ever after with me?”
I smile through happy tears. “You know I will.”
Six Months Later...
WYATT
Spring’s come early to the ranch this year. Or maybe it just feels that way now that Anna’s living here full time with me. She brings a sunshiney energy to the place that ice and snow stand no chance against.
The fields out back are greening up again, the creek’s running full, and for the first time in a damn long while, Rock Creek Ranch feels alive.
We’ve been working hard all winter. The fences are fixed, the barn roof doesn’t leak anymore, and Oatmeal’s foal is kicking around in the paddock, proof that new life has taken hold here. In more ways than one.
My brothers are slowly drifting back, too. It turns out that they were all amicable about my idea of keeping the ranch. Some more than others, but as a family, we decided to at least try to bring it back to its former glory.
Anna’s flowers line the porch in big terracotta pots I found in one of the sheds. She fusses over them every morning beforeshe leaves for the clinic. Even talks to them sometimes. She’s not deterred by the cooler temps up here in the mountains, and she assures me that she’ll make sure the flowers thrive.
With her care, I have no doubt they will. I tease her about it, but the truth is, I love the flowers. The little bursts of color against the old, weathered wood remind me of us.
It’s late when her headlights cut across the yard. She’s been out on a call, and I, of course, have been waiting up for her.
I hear the truck door shut, and her boots crunch on the gravel, before the screen door creaks open and she steps inside. She’s tired, but her soft smile still knocks the air from my lungs.
“How did it go?” I reach for the whiskey, ready to pour her a measure.
“Calving,” she says. “Mama and baby are both fine.”
I hold up the glass, but she shakes her head. “Peppermint tea for me.”
I set the whiskey back a start the kettle instead. Happy to give her exactly what she needs.
We end up on the porch, tucked up on the old swing. Both of us listening to the quiet sounds of the ranch at night.
The swing creaks in a slow rhythm, and Anna rests her head against my shoulder while we rock in comfortable silence.
“You’re quiet tonight,” I murmur, dropping a kiss on her head.
“Just really tired.” She smiles against my chest, but there’s something in her voice.
I sit back so I can study her face. The soft curve of her mouth, the way her hand keeps drifting to her belly. My heart kicks.
“Is there something you need to tell me, Doc?”
Her eyes meet mine, bright and steady. She takes my hand and presses it to her stomach.
“I think maybe we should move the wedding up a few months,” she whispers.”
For a second, I forget how to breathe. And then it hits me all at once.
“I’m going to be a dad?”
