"But what a way to go."
I laughed, pulled her close again, kissed her because I could, because she was here, because the universe had given us a second chance, and we were taking it with both hands.
The creek sang its ancient song in the distance, the sound carrying on the wind like a blessing. Some things, it seemed to say, were meant to be. No matter how long it took. No matter how far they traveled apart.
Some things always found their way home.
And Ivy Garrison—my first love, my last love, my only love—was finally, permanently, beautifully home.
Chapter 23
Ivy
The notification appeared on my phone screen while I was measuring hormone doses in the breeding barn, two weeks after I'd come home for good. Mark's name flashed briefly before I swiped it away without reading. Whatever bitter words or warnings he'd composed, they belonged to a life that felt like someone else's dream—distant and fading more each day.
I deleted the message unopened, then blocked his number for good measure. No drama, no hesitation, just a quiet severing of the last thread connecting me to Dallas. That life wasn't just gone—it had never really been mine to begin with. Just a costume I'd worn, thinking it would make me into someone worth loving.
"Everything okay?" Wyatt's voice came from behind me. He'd been checking the pregnant heifers, but had that uncanny ability to sense when something shifted in my mood.
"Perfect," I said, showing him the blank screen. "Just taking out the trash."
He moved closer, his presence solid and warm at my back as he watched me work. We'd fallen into an easy rhythm these past weeks—working side by side, our movements synchronized without thought. He'd hand me tools before I asked, I'd finish sentences he started about breeding schedules. The partnership we'd glimpsed as teenagers had matured into something deeper, stronger.
"That chapter's closed," I said, drawing up the precise amount of hormone needed for the afternoon's procedures. "Completely. Finally."
"Good." His hands settled on my hips, pulling me back against his chest. "'Cause this one's just starting."
"And what's this chapter called?" I asked, leaning into him.
"How about 'The Part Where They Get It Right'?"
I grinned. ”Bit wordy for a chapter title."
"'Happily Ever After'?"
"Too cliché."
"'Home'?"
I turned in his arms, looking up at him. Afternoon light slanted through the barn windows, turning his eyes that impossible green that still made my heart skip. "Perfect."
He kissed me, soft and sure, tasting of coffee and promise. When we pulled apart, he kept me close, his forehead resting against mine.
"Mom's expecting us for Sunday dinner," he said. "Fair warning—she invited everyone. And I mean everyone. Clay's bringing his girlfriend, even Luke's driving in from Dallas."
"The prodigal son returns?"
"All the prodigal children return eventually. It's the Blackwood way." He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, the gesture tender. "She wants to welcome you home officially. Make it clear to everyone that you're not a guest anymore. You're family."
The word made my chest tight with emotion. Family. After a lifetime of belonging nowhere, of being unwanted baggage in my parents' dysfunction, I had a family that chose me.
Sunday arrived with the kind of perfect weather Texas occasionally blessed its residents with—warm but not scorching, blue sky decorated with white puff clouds, a breeze that carried the scent of grass and possibility. I stood in our cabin (I'd never get tired of thinking of it as ours), trying to decide what to wear to my official welcome home dinner.
“The blue sundress,” Wyatt said from where he lounged on our bed—long legs stretched out, shirt tucked into his jeans in that way that made him look like every cowboy fantasy I’d ever tried not to have.
“That’s what I wore to the dance,” I reminded him, holding the hanger up to my body in the mirror.
“Exactly.” His gaze dropped, slow and heated. “You looked beautiful.” A beat. Then the smirk. “Plus, easier to get you out of it later.”
