We sing to Frank, who stares at the candle with wide, fascinated eyes. Wade helps him blow it out, and we all applaud. Frank immediately tries to grab the cake with both hands, and we let him make a glorious mess while Carol takes pictures.
"I can't believe he's one already," I say, watching our son smear chocolate frosting across his face. "It feels like he was just born yesterday."
"And like he's been here forever," Wade adds. "Can't remember what life was like before him."
"Quieter," I say with a laugh. "Definitely quieter."
After cake, Frank is beyond exhausted, chocolate-covered and cranky. We clean him up as best we can while Carol packs up leftovers for us to take home.
"Thank you for tonight," I tell her, pulling her into a hug. "It meant everything."
"You're welcome, sweetheart. And Sierra?" She pulls back to look at me. "I know your family isn't here. I know that hurts. But I want you to know that you have a mother who loves you. Me. And a son who adores you. And a husband who would move mountains for you. That's real family."
The tears I've been holding back finally spill over. "Thank you," I whisper. "That means more than you know."
Wade appears with Frank, who's now clean and dressed in fresh clothes from the diaper bag, half-asleep against his father's shoulder. "Ready to go home?"
"Yeah. Let's go home."
We say our goodbyes with promises to visit again soon. The drive back to the ranch is quiet, Frank already asleep in his car seat, his little chest rising and falling steadily.
Wade's hand finds mine across the console. "Best first birthday ever."
"He won't remember any of it," I point out with a smile.
"But we will. And we've got about a hundred photos to prove it happened." He glances over at me. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For giving me him. For giving me us. For not running away when I was an ass two years ago." His voice is rough with emotion. "For building this life with me."
"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," I say honestly. "Or with anyone else."
The ranch appears in the distance, lights glowing warm in the darkness. Our home. Our family. Our future.
When we pull up to our house, the foreman's cottage we renovated and moved into before Frank was born, Wade turns off the engine but doesn't move to get out immediately.
"What are you thinking?" I ask.
"Just that two years ago, I never could have imagined this. Being married. Having a son. Being happy." He looks at me, and there's so much love in his eyes... "You gave me all of that, Sierra. You saved the ranch, but you saved me too."
"We saved each other," I correct. "That's what partners do."
"Partners," he repeats with a smile. "Yeah. We're pretty damn good at that."
We carry our sleeping son inside, putting him to bed in the nursery decorated with horses and mountains and everythingMontana. Wade wraps his arms around me from behind as we stand over his crib, watching him sleep.
"One year old," Wade murmurs. "Our little cowboy."
"He's going to be just like you. Stubborn and protective and secretly soft-hearted."
"Could do worse." He kisses my temple. "Think he wants a little brother or sister someday?"
"Someday," I agree. "When we're ready. When the ranch is even more stable."
"It's pretty damn stable now, thanks to you."
"Thanks to us," I correct. "I could never have done this without you. Without the guys. Without this place."
