She looks up at me then, those big brown eyes soft with understanding. We're not just talking about the foal anymore.
"I love you," she says simply, like it's the most natural thing in the world.
"Love you too, trouble. Now come on, Emma's about five minutes away from starting this ceremony without you, and I've seen her when she's impatient. It ain't pretty."
Lucy laughs, letting me pull her to her feet. "Can't have that. She's already threatened to make this 'memorable' in the worstpossible way."
We walk up the hill together holding hands. The same hill that used to be just for her and Beau, and now will be witness to this significant day.
A year ago, I was drinking too much and sleeping around and convinced love was just another word for eventual heartbreak. Now I'm walking toward a commitment ceremony that's not legally binding but feels more real than any piece of paper ever could.
The hillside is packed with everyone who matters. Dusty and Tyson, our honorary best men.
Matty stands with his husband near the back, both of them grinning like idiots, probably remembering their own difficult start.
Half the town is here, including Mrs. Henderson, who's still muttering about Emma's earlier commentary but wouldn't miss this for the world.
"Look at that turnout," Lucy breathes, wonder in her voice. "A year ago, I thought I'd spend the rest of my life running from people who might hurt me. Now look."
"Now you're stuck with us forever," I tell her, squeezing her hand. "No backsies."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Gabriel and Beau are waiting at the altar, both of them looking like they're about to burst with pride and possessiveness and pure male satisfaction.
My chest swells with something I can't even name. These men, this woman, this impossible life we've built together. It shouldn't work, but it does.
Emma steps forward, wearing what appears to be a judge's robe she probably ordered online, her expression serious for once.
"Dearly beloved and nosy neighbors," she begins, and I catch Gabriel trying not to smile. "We're gathered here today to witness something that's probably illegal, definitely unconventional, and absolutely perfect for these four stubborn hearts who somehow figured out how to make this work."
Lucy's laughing now, the sound bright and free, and I feel something settle deep in my chest. Peace. Contentment. The bone-deep certainty that this is exactly where I belong.
"Lucy Reid," Emma continues, "also known as Lucinda Kensington-Reid, also known as the woman who somehow convinced three grown men to share not just their coffee pot but their entire lives, do you take these cowboys to be your partners in all things? Through ranch emergencies, animal rescues, and whatever the hell else Montana throws at you?"
"I do," Lucy says, her voice strong and clear. "All of them. Forever."
"Gabriel Maddox, do you promise to keep protecting this woman and these knuckleheads, even when they're being stupid, which is most of the time?"
"I do," Gabriel rumbles, his voice carrying across the hillside like a vow.
"Beau Blackwell, do you promise to keep providing the emotional stability while these two" she gestures at Gabriel and me "figure out how to use their words like grown-ups?"
"Yes, ma'am," Beau drawls, his gray eyes never leaving Lucy's face. "Gladly."
Emma turns to me, grinning like the devil. "And Colt Mercer, do you promise to stop being such a pain in my ass and love this woman like she deserves, even though you're emotionally constipated and have the communication skills of a particularly stubborn mule?"
The crowd laughs, and I flip my sister off before answering. "Yeah, Em. I promise to love her every day for the rest of my life. Even if you are the worst officiant in Montana history."
"Perfect," Emma declares, clapping her hands together. "By the power vested in me by my own unshakeable confidence, I now pronounce you married in every way that matters. You may kiss your bride. All of you. But not at the same time because that would traumatize Mrs. Henderson."
The crowd erupts in cheers and laughter as Gabriel steps forward first, cupping Lucy's face in his hands. Their kiss is soft, reverent, full of promises and protection and forever.
Beau goes next, slow and thorough, pouring a year's worth of quiet devotion into the way his mouth moves againsthers. When they break apart, Lucy's eyes are bright with unshed tears.
Then it's my turn.
I step forward, threading my fingers through her hair, and for a moment the crowd fades away. It's just us, just this moment, just the overwhelming certainty that somehow, despite everything that tried to break us, we made it.
