“Because youcompletedeverything. My life was organized, but you filled spaces I didn’t know were empty.”
“I never thought I’d stay anywhere for long. Never thought I’d find someone who would see past my defenses and still want me.”
“I see all of you, Riley James.” He pressed his forehead against mine. “Your strength, your intelligence, your compassion. The way you understand people. How you fought for justice even when it cost you everything.”
“And I see you, Dungar Bronish.” I ran my fingers through his dark hair. “Your careful attention to detail that keeps everyone safe. The kindness beneath your structured exterior. How you make room in your precisely ordered world for those who need shelter.”
His kiss tasted sweet, his large hands cradling me with a gentleness that countered his strength. When we broke apart, I could see our future reflected in his eyes.
“What happens now?” I asked, though I already knew the answer deep in my bones.
“Now we build a life together.” He took my hand, kissing the golden mark on my wrist. “I’ve already started planning. I’ve designed an extension for the house that’ll include a home office for us both. Matching desks, though yours will be sized for a human.”
A laugh bubbled up from my chest. “Of course you have. Let me guess, you’ve drawn up blueprints with color-coded zones?”
“Three sets, actually.” His expression remained serious, but his eyes danced with humor. “With alternative arrangements depending on your preferences.”
“I love you.” The words flowed easily now. “Every meticulous, thorough, wonderfully methodical inch of you, Dungar Bronish.”
“And I love you.” His arms tightened around me. “Every adaptive, resilient, remarkably intuitive part of you, Riley James.”
As we stood together under the vast sky, the final pieces of my heart slid into place. I’d come to Lonesome Creek as Riley Smith, a woman in hiding, afraid to form connections that might become weaknesses. I would remain here as Riley James-Bronish, a woman who had found strength in belonging.
The golden mark on my wrist caught the moonlight. This wasn’t an ending. It was the beginning of everything I’d never dared to want.
And with Dungar beside me, it would be meticulously, perfectly, wonderfully right.
Chapter 29
Epilogue
RILEY
Iadjusted the framed diploma on my office wall for the third time, stepping back to make sure it hung perfectly level. Beside it, the shadow box containing my first deputy badge from Lonesome Creek formed a neat visual balance. My new desk, my size but designed to match Dungar’s larger one across the room, gleamed in the low lights.
And my kitten, Jasper, scampered around my desk, chasing a ball with a bell that tinkled.
“A millimeter to the left,” Dungar said from the doorway.
I smiled, making the adjustment to the picture. “Better?”
“Perfect.” He crossed to his desk, opening his new filing cabinet. Each drawer had a specific purpose, labeled in his precise handwriting. Case files in the top drawer, town administration in the second, security protocols in the third.
The house extension had been completed last month, transforming our home into something that perfectly suited both of us. The matching offices connected by a sliding barn door allowed us to work together or separately as needed. The additional bedroom down the hall remained empty for now, but the possibility it represented made my heart flutter whenever I thought about it.
“Jamie’s research proposal was accepted,” I said, arranging my pens in the ceramic holder Hail had made specifically for me, the swirls of blue and green matching the rug beneath my desk. “She sent a text. Columbia University sent her an early acceptance letter with a full scholarship.”
Dungar’s chest puffed with pride.
“She’s planning to continue her luminook research when she returns for summer breaks,” I said. “Turns out teenage scientific curiosity just needed proper direction.” I crossed to where he stood, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind. “Your rehabilitation plan worked perfectly.”
He turned in my embrace, his hands settling on my waist. “She needed someone to believe in her potential rather than punish her for her mistakes.”
“Like someone did for me.” I stretched up on my toes, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “You’re a good male, Sheriff Bronish.”
“And you’re a remarkable woman, Deputy Bronish.” He caught my left hand, his thumb brushing over my wedding band. The simple gold ring complemented themating mark, the two symbols of our bond and our differing worlds working in harmony.
“We should finish getting ready,” I said, though I made no move to step away. “The dance starts in an hour, and Aunt Inla will never forgive us if we’re late.”
