“And if you ever feel like running,” he added, “you run toward me.”
My throat tightened. “I’m done running.”
“Good. Because I love you, sweetness.”
I stared at him. “You’re serious.”
“I don’t say things I don’t mean.”
“Neither do I,” I said, my heart so full it felt like it might crack open. “I love you too, Caleb Stone.”
The stars burned steady above us while the land stood solid underneath our feet. For the first time in my life, I knew exactly where I belonged. He kissed me then, slow and deep and sure, like he wasn’t afraid of what it meant. I kissed him right back because I was choosing him.
When we broke apart, he rested his forehead against mine. “You’re finally home, sweetness.”
I held his gaze and smiled. “We both are.”
EPILOGUE
CALEB
Two Years Later
I’d recognizeher laugh anywhere. It carried across the pasture, clear and bright, cutting through the low murmur of voices and the country music drifting out of the barn. I looked up from the grill just in time to see Marisol throw her head back, one hand braced on Lucas’s shoulder, the other clutching the picnic table like she needed something solid to keep her upright.
She looked happy. Not the quiet, tired kind of happy she used to wear when we first met. Not the careful, guarded version she carried through the danger. This was the real thing. The kind that lived in her bones.
Two years had changed a lot.
The ranch had grown. The fences were new. The cattle herd had doubled. The barn had fresh red paint and a roof that didn’t leak. Mama Mae still ran her empire with an iron fist and a soft heart, but I had my own spread now just east of hers, close enough that Lucas could ride his dirt bike over whenever he felt like it.
And Marisol? She had finished school. Top of her class.
I turned the burgers and let my gaze run over her curves. She had on a white sundress that caught the breeze and a pair of boots she refused to give up, no matter how many times I told her heels would look just as good. Her hair was longer now, falling down her back in loose waves. Her eyes were brighter. Her shoulders lighter.
She looked like a woman who finally knew she was safe.
Lucas jogged toward me, already taller by a couple of inches and still growing into his limbs.
“She’s looking for you,” he said.
I arched a brow. “Is that so?”
“She wants you for pictures.”
“Of course she does.”
He grinned. “If you cry again, I’m posting it.”
“Watch your mouth.”
He laughed and took off back toward the barn, where the big banner Mama Mae had hung read:
CONGRATS MARISOL, RN
Registered nurse. The words still knocked the breath out of me.
I killed the grill and set the spatula down, wiping my hands on a towel as I crossed the yard. People stopped me along the way. Foster brothers. Old ranch hands. New neighbors. Men who had watched me build this place from bare dirt and stubborn dreams.
