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Her ears flick back at me, and she stretches out beneath me, hooves pounding over the earth. Fuck, she’s beautiful like this. Free.

It took months. Longer than I thought it would. There were days I wondered if she’d ever trust completely. Days she’d let me close enough to feed her and then the next morning act like we’d never met. So I waited. Didn’t force her. Didn’t ask for anything she wasn’t ready to give. Just showed up, day after day, and somewhere along the way she decided I was safe.

Now she comes when I call. Eats from my hand. Lets me saddle her without watching every move like she’s waiting for me to hurt her. Still doesn’t like strangers much. Can’t blame her. Neither do I.

I slow her near the fence and lean forward to run my palm along the side of her neck. Her coat is warm beneath my hand, slightly damp from the run. She blows out a long breath and shakes her head.

“Yeah. I know.”

A black SUV coming up the ranch road catches my attention, dust curling behind its tires as it moves between the white fences. I straighten slightly in the saddle. Don’t recognize it.

Probably someone headed toward Hawthorne Ranch B&B. Happens all the time now. Guests taking the wrong turn, deliveries, people wanting to see the horses because apparently a sign that says private is more of a suggestion these days.

I turn Indigo toward the barn, but then the SUV slows and something in my chest tightens. Stupid. How many fucking times will this happen?

I rub a hand over my chest. She’s happy now. She’s living, writing, cooking. And I miss her so fucking much that meeting Dex in the boxing ring has become a weekly thing. Gives me somewhere to put it all.

The engine rumbles closer, then cuts out. I look back as the driver’s door opens and a woman steps out, dark hair catching in the wind. A yellow dress. A small backpack hanging from one hand.

Everything inside me fucking stops. For a second, I don’t trust what I’m seeing.

Nine months does strange things to a man. You start seeing someone where they aren’t. In crowds. Walking into Midnight Rodeo. Once I followed a woman through the fucking parking lot because she had the same dark hair and was wearing a jean coat like Nora’s. Wasn’t her. Never is. You find yourself in the grocery store sniffing coconut shampoo and buying the one she used.

But this… this is Nora.

She closes the door and stands beside the SUV, one hand still wrapped around the strap of that little backpack. Just like the first time. A black SUV and Nora stepping out, only that Nora had looked like someone had taken every good thing from her and left the shell standing.

I remember her face. Pale. Angry. Empty. Her eyes had been alive with pain and absolutely nothing else. This woman looks the same and completely different.

Her hair is longer, maybe. Or maybe I’ve just forgotten exactly where it used to fall. No. I haven’t forgotten anything. I know every fucking detail.

There’s something different in the way she stands. Her shoulders aren’t curled inward anymore. She isn’t trying to disappear into herself. Her chin is lifted, and even from here I can see something calm in her face that wasn’t there before. Peace. Confidence. Like she took the reins of her life back and finally made the damn thing listen to her.

My throat tightens. Good. Fuck, that’s good. That’s all I wanted. For her to find herself again. For her to be okay even if I wasn’t there to see it.

Indigo shifts beneath me and brings me back to my body. I swing my leg over and slide down, my boots hitting the dirt harder than they should. I barely remember securing Indigo by the fence.

Nora still hasn’t moved. We just look at each other from opposite sides of the yard while the wind moves through the grass and a horse nickers somewhere behind me.

Nine fucking months. I’ve wondered what this would feel like if it ever happened. Thought I’d be able to act normal. Thought maybe enough time would pass that seeing her again wouldn’t feel like somebody had reached inside my chest and wrapped a fist around my heart. Apparently I’m a fucking idiot.

Her almost-black eyes search mine. They start to shine, and then she smiles.

“Hello, Grumpy.”

Fuck. Her bottom lip trembles and her voice comes out rough, and for a second I can’t find a single fucking word. So I take a step forward. She does the same. Another step, and we’re close enough that I can smell her. Fucking coconut. I can see the tiny tear caught in her lashes, and every part of me is screaming to touch her.

I don’t. My eyes drop to the backpack in her hand. Small. Too small. Don’t hope. Not yet.

“You visiting?”

She follows my gaze and lets out a nervous laugh. “Uh... no. I...” She looks back up at me and the tear finally breaks free. “I came home.”

My heart slams hard against my ribs. I stare at her, telling myself again not to fucking hope.

“Paradiso Ranch?”

She shakes her head. “Nope.”