They clapped my shoulder. Congratulated me. Told me I’d done good.
I didn’t correct them.
Marisol spotted me before I reached the table.
There was a moment. The same one we’d shared since the first night on Mama Mae’s porch. The quiet beat where the world faded and it was just us.
Then she smiled.
My heart had never stood a chance.
“Come here,” she said, tugging me into the center of the chaos.
Someone handed her a camera. Someone else handed her a drink. Lucas threw an arm around her shoulders. Mama Mae wiped her eyes with the hem of her apron.
We took picture after picture. Marisol beamed through every one of them.
After, I walked her away from the noise, down toward the fence line where the pasture sloped gently toward the creek. The sun was setting, painting the sky in gold and pink.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
She leaned into my side. “I’m perfect.”
I studied her face, memorizing the woman she had become. The strength had always been there. So had the fire and grit. But now there was peace too.
“You’re proud of me,” she said.
I smiled. “Try again.”
“You’re ridiculously proud of me.”
“Damn right I am.”
She laughed and tipped her head against my shoulder. “I wouldn’t be here without you.”
“Yes, you would,” I said. “You’re stubborn. You would’ve found a way.”
“Maybe,” she admitted. “But I wouldn’t have found home.”
The word settled deep in my chest. Home. That was what this place had become. It wasn’t just land and fences and cattle. Not just a ranch I built with sweat and willpower. It was her. It was Lucas. It was the life we chose.
The party carried on behind us with music and laughter. I took her hand and led her farther down the fence line, where the grass grew tall and the world felt quieter.
She tilted her head. “Where are we going?”
“Trust me.”
She always did.
We stopped near the old oak at the edge of the pasture. I leaned back against the trunk and pulled her between my legs, her back resting against my chest.
The sky had darkened enough that the first stars were beginning to show.
She followed my gaze. “You and your stars.”
“They’re reliable.”
She smiled. “So are you.”
