At the window, we look out over the land together. The storm left its marks, but the ranch is standing strong. It’s more proof that damage doesn’t have to mean destruction.
“I don’t regret it,” he says suddenly.
I turn to him. “Last night?”
He nods once. “Any of it.”
“I didn’t think you would.”
He studies me for a moment, then exhales. “I was afraid I might. That’s the truth.”
“I know.”
“And I was wrong.”
The simplicity of that admission really touches my heart. I take his hand, threading my fingers through his. He squeezes back.
“We don’t have to rush anything,” I say. “You know that.”
“I do.” His thumb brushes over my knuckles, thoughtful. “But I don’t want to go back to pretending either.”
“Good.”
I don’t need promises from him. I don’t need declarations or plans laid out like contracts. What I need is exactly what he’s giving me now: his company and his honesty. The willingness to step into something uncertain instead of retreating behind fear.
That’s how trust is built. That’s how love starts to last.
Later, as I head out to the race track, I catch him watching me with that same steady focus he gives the animals in his care. Protective, yes, but also open.
Bliss isn’t loud. It doesn’t announce itself or demand attention. Sometimes, it’s just the simple, extraordinary peace of knowing that someone chose courage over fear … and in doing so, chose you.
Epilogue
Nicole
The grandstand hums with anticipation, that familiar blend of nerves and hope that never quite fades no matter how many races you’ve watched.
Red Ledger circles the paddock below, coat gleaming, and ears forward. He looks different today. Not just fit or ready … but confident and grounded. Like a horse who finally understands what’s being asked of him.
I rest my hands on the rail, tracking his movement with practiced ease. Every step confirms what I already know. He’s ready.
Beside me, Harrison stands with his arms folded loosely, sunglasses pushed up into his hair. He’s calm … outwardly, at least. But I can feel the tension humming beneath the surface.
“You okay?” I ask.
He glances at me. “Ask me again in five minutes.”
I smile and turn back toward the paddock as the jockey mounts. The lead is released. Red Ledger tosses his head once, then settles. That settlesmetoo.
This is his debut. No expectations. No pressure. Just a chance to show who he is when everything finally clicks.
“Hopefully, I’ll meet you in the winner’s circle,” I say, placing a kiss on his cheek.
I make my way down to the paddock area, ready to walk beside Red Ledger, letting him know I’m here for his big debut. He can count on me.
As I approach him, he lifts his head and brings it down quickly, like he’s talking directly to me.
“Hey big guy, this is your day. You’re going to be so great.”
