"I thought about you every mile," she murmured against my shoulder. "Every gas station, every motel, every bad cup of coffee. I kept reading your note and trying to figure out what 'all the way' meant."
"And?"
"And I think I finally get it." She lifted her head to look at me, her eyes still red-rimmed but clear now. Steady. "It means no safety net. No exit plan. Just... jumping and trusting you'll catch me."
My chest ached with how much I loved her. "I'll always catch you, Maggie. That's not even a question."
"I know." She smiled—small, wondering, like she was still getting used to the idea. "That's the terrifying part."
Liam and Stephanie were at a table across the room, giving us space but staying close. I caught Liam's eye and nodded my thanks. He nodded back—one love-struck fool to another, words unnecessary.
"Tell me about yesterday," Maggie said eventually, her voice soft. "Liam said you went to see your family."
I took a breath. It was still raw, still tender—the graveyard, the headstones, the six years of grief I'd finally let myself feel. But Maggie deserved to know. She deserved all of me, including the broken parts.
"I hadn't been back since the funeral," I said. "Six years."
She reached up and touched my face, her palm warm against my cheek. "I'm so sorry you had to do that alone."
"I wasn't alone." I covered her hand with mine, held it there. "Sully was there. And I talked to them—my family. Told them about you."
Maggie leaned forward and kissed me—soft and slow, tasting like salt and beer and something that felt like forever. When she pulled back, her eyes were shining.
We sat together in the dim light of the booth, the bar quiet around us, and I felt something settle in my chest.
Time to lay the rest of it out.
"I need to tell you something," I said. "About the inheritance."
Maggie's brow furrowed. "You mentioned it before. Money from your family?"
"From the ranch. When I sold it after the funeral, I put everything into an account and never touched it." I took a breath. "It felt wrong—like blood money, earned from loss. I couldn't think of anything worth spending it on." I paused. "Until now."
"Jack, I don't need?—"
"I know you don't need it. That's not what this is about." I shifted so I was facing her fully, our knees touching under the table. "I want to build a ranch—my ranch, with my name on it. Not stepping into your family's shadow, but building alongside it. A partner, not a dependent."
She was staring at me like I'd just offered her the moon.
"The horse program you've been dreaming about," I continued. "We could make it happen. Together. Not me rescuing you, not you rescuing me—just two people building something that belongs to both of us."
"Jack." Her voice was barely a whisper. "That's... everything I've ever wanted."
She was crying again, but she was also laughing—that helpless, joyful sound that I was starting to think might be my favorite thing in the world.
"I don't know what to say," she managed.
"Say yes." I smiled. "Or say you need time to think about it. Or say you want to negotiate terms like the fierce businesswoman I know you are. Whatever you need, Maggie. I'm not going anywhere."
She laughed harder, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "You're ridiculous."
I shrugged once, fighting off a smile. “I’m in love. Same thing."
Maggie took a shaky breath, composing herself. When she looked at me again, her eyes were clear and certain—the Maggie I'd fallen for, the one who ran a ranch like a general and didn't back down from anything.
"I don't want your money, Jack. I want you." She squeezed my hands. "But if we're doing this—building something together—then we do it as partners. Fifty-fifty. I contribute what I can, you contribute what you can, and we figure out the rest as we go."
"Done."
