Epilogue
Hadley
Flames crackle, embers rising to the sky every time I poke it with the long stick I found earlier. The backyard bonfire is a coming-home tradition we’ve made. And it’s been thirty-two days, nine hours, and eleven minutes since Maggie left on assignment.
She takes three she deems meaningful every year.
Something about keeping her promise to Cap.
Those three stints without her are the longest days of my year, regardless of the season. It’s almost midnight, and the sky has been gnarly all day.
The wind is crisper than an Arctic gust. I wrap my jacket around my body, zipping it up.
Tires over gravel close in.
I fling the stick into the fire and push through the back door. Taking stock of the renovations we did after we settled the ranch debt, I make a small detour to grab up the small box on the kitchen counter.
It’s been two years since Sunshine came home.
Since we sent Nia off to a fancy college.
Hells Bells was the last bull I rode. I officially retired on a high note with the PBR Championship, although the celebrationhappened from a hospital bed. The journey may have been rough, but it was worth it. And when Maggie told me about her father, Evan Gallagher, I was heartbroken for her. And acutely aware of how much she had to overcome to fall in love with a cowboy like me.
“Honey! I’m home,” Maggie coos as the front screen door snaps shut.
I don’t wait for her to find me. I’m out the back door before she sees me. Everything is set up.
Candles in jars dotted around the porch—check.
Bonfire raging—check.
Snow falling softly—check.
Cowboy down on one knee—check.
Ring that took me over twelve months to save for—check.
Heart on my damn sleeve—triple check.
“Hads?” she calls, wandering through the house.
The moment the back door opens, my heart backflips in my chest. That feeling I have when I see her always takes me by surprise and will never get old. Standing just outside the door, her gaze tracks the candles, the bonfire, and finally lands on me.
On one knee.
The moment I’ve been waiting for, for longer than I’ll ever admit. Hell, that first night we met, I felt it then. I wasn’t the person she needed then. But we grew on each other as we grew together over the months our decrepit vehicles forced us into confined spaces. I’ll forever be grateful for my rust bucket pickup. It was the push I needed.
“Hadley Jones, why are you on your knee?”
She closes the distance between us, hugging her coat around her.
“Because, Sunshine, this is the only way I know how to show you that you always come first. That I will always be here, athome, waiting for you no matter how far you go. And maybe you’ll let me come along sometimes.”
Her head tilts to one side. “You wanna see the world with me, cowboy?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What about your ranch?”
