EPILOGUE 2
Marina
The moment dinner ended, Jimmy tugged at Marina's hand. "Come on."
She laughed. "Where are we going?"
"You'll see."
He pulled her through the back door before she could ask another question. Katrina was only a few steps behind, already carrying Lisa on one hip while the little girl pointed excitedly toward a pile of toys scattered across the lawn.
The evening air was warm, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and distant rain. Fireflies had begun blinking among the trees, and the last light of sunset painted the western sky in soft shades of orange and purple.
Jimmy stopped beside a battered plastic bin overflowing with balls, Frisbees, and toy trucks.
"We're playing."
"So I gathered."
He handed her a bright red Frisbee with great ceremony. "You throw first."
Marina turned it over in her hands. "I should warn you," she said. "I'm much better at throwing surfboards."
Jimmy laughed. "Surfboards don't fly."
"Shows how much you know."
She sent the Frisbee spinning across the yard.
It sailed farther than she expected before Ryan's brother caught it one-handed as he walked past.
"Lucky throw," Mike called.
"Pure skill," Marina answered.
Mike tossed it back toward Jimmy, who immediately threw it with all the enthusiasm of a seven-year-old and none of the accuracy.
The Frisbee landed somewhere behind Katrina.
Lisa squealed. "I'll get it!"
Before anyone else could move, Skylla sprinted across the yard, proudly scooped the Frisbee into her mouth, and came charging back as though she'd solved everyone's problem.
"Good girl!" Katrina laughed, crouching to scratch behind her ears.
Skylla dropped the Frisbee directly into Marina's hands. Apparently she'd decided Marina was in charge.
For the next half hour, the game changed every few minutes.
One moment they were throwing the Frisbee. The next they were chasing bubbles Lisa insisted on blowing despite spilling half the bottle on herself.
Jimmy wanted to race across the yard. Lisa wanted piggyback rides. Skylla wanted everyone to throw the Frisbee at the same time.
Marina couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed this much. Perhaps she never had.
At one point Jimmy slipped his hand into hers as naturally as though they'd known each other for years.
"Come on," he whispered. "I want to show you something."
He led her to the fence behind the barn, where a line of swallows skimmed low over the pasture, catching insects in the fading light.
"They do this every night."
Marina watched the birds swoop and circle above the grass. "They're beautiful."
"I know."
Jimmy smiled proudly. "I wanted you to see."
Something tightened gently inside her chest. The simple gesture made her feel she belonged here, that she was part of the family.
"Thank you, sweetie," she said, giving him a hug.
Jimmy grinned and raced back toward the yard.
She looked after him.
Katrina had somehow ended up with Lisa sitting on her shoulders while Ryan's niece declared herself "Queen of Texas."
Katrina marched around obediently while everyone laughed.
Even Ryan's father stood on the porch smiling as he watched the children.
Marina found herself wondering what it would have been like to grow up surrounded by cousins and grandparents instead of the quiet little cottage tucked among the trees in Cliff Harbor.
She wouldn't have traded her childhood for anything. But it had always been small. After their parents died, it became smaller still.
She'd always believed Katrina was enough.
Yet standing in the middle of Ryan's bustling ranch, surrounded by laughter that flowed so easily from one generation to the next, she realized there had always been room in her heart for something more.
Not a bigger house or more money.
A bigger family.
The thought caught her off guard. Somewhere between paying bills, fixing the boat, and working nights, she'd quietly stopped imagining children altogether.
Jimmy came running back, the Frisbee tucked under one arm.
"One more?"
Marina smiled. "As many as you want."
He ran out into the yard, and she tossed the Frisbee after him.
She watched him go, warmth spreading quietly through her chest.
The children were eventually rounded up for baths with varying degrees of protest.
Jimmy tried to bargain for another ten minutes outside. Lisa declared she wasn't tired. Even Skylla looked disappointed when the Frisbee finally disappeared into the toy bin.
Little by little, the ranch settled into evening.
Sarah and Molly disappeared into the kitchen to clear away the last of the dishes while Mike carried his sleepy youngest upstairs. John's familiar footsteps crossed the porch before fading toward the barn for one last check of the horses.
Marina wandered onto the wide wooden porch and lowered herself onto the swing.
The air had cooled pleasantly. Somewhere beyond the pasture, crickets had begun their nightly chorus, and the sky overhead was slowly filling with stars she'd never seen from Cliff Harbor.
She leaned back and closed her eyes for a moment.
A year.
Sometimes she still couldn't believe everything that had happened in twelve short months.
The surf school had grown beyond anything she and Katrina had imagined. Lessons filled weeks in advance, the charter calendar stayed busy throughout the season, and the future no longer felt like something she had to survive one month at a time.
She hadn't stepped behind the bar at the Beacon in nearly a year, and she didn't miss it. The late nights, the stage, pretending to smile when she was exhausted, all of it already felt like another lifetime.
These days, her mornings began in the water instead of behind a bar, and her evenings ended at home with Ryan and Katrina instead of beneath stage lights.
Wayfinder had changed as well. The boat that had once felt like a debt tied around her neck now carried laughing tourists along the same coastline her parents had loved.
Hiring a part-time captain had given the three of them the freedom to grow the businesses, compete, and still spend time on the water themselves. Somewhere along the way, the boat had stopped feeling like a burden and become a blessing again.
Winning the Cliff Harbor Women's Classic two months earlier had meant far more than the trophy sitting on the dresser she shared with Ryan.
It reminded her that she was more than a bartender, more than a caretaker, and more than someone trying to keep her family's head above water. She was a surfer again.
Her gaze drifted across the yard to where Ryan stood talking with his father and brother on the porch.
He had changed too.
Ryan still spent part of each week writing code, but work no longer defined him. He smiled more easily, slept through the night, and laughed without checking his phone every few minutes. Cliff Harbor hadn't saved Ryan.
Ryan had chosen Cliff Harbor.
More importantly, every single day since, he had chosen her and Katrina.
Marina smiled to herself.
For years she had believed happiness was something you postponed until all the responsibilities were behind you. Somehow, without ever noticing exactly when it happened, happiness had quietly arrived first.
Katrina joined her a moment later, stretching her legs across the swing with a contented sigh. "I'm exhausted."
Marina laughed. "You spent half the evening carrying Lisa around."
"She weighs at least a hundred pounds."
"She weighs forty."
"Forty very determined pounds."
They sat together in comfortable silence.
Inside the house, someone laughed.
A screen door opened and closed. The familiar sounds wrapped around the ranch like a blanket.
"I like it here," Katrina said quietly.
Marina nodded. "So do I."
She hadn't expected to. Texas had always existed in her imagination as little more than cattle, highways, and cowboy hats.
Instead, she'd found warmth, kindness, and a family who had welcomed two strangers without hesitation.
The screen door creaked again, and Ryan stepped onto the porch.
As he settled beside Marina, their shoulders touched naturally.
"So," Katrina said between bites, "does your family always make people feel like they've belonged forever?"
Ryan looked toward the softly lit windows. "I guess I never really thought about it."
"They do," Marina said quietly.
He turned toward her. "You fit into ours just as easily."
She smiled. "Maybe."
She looked back across the dark pasture. "I used to think families just happened to everyone."
Neither Ryan nor Katrina interrupted.
"I thought someday I'd meet the right person, we'd have children, and life would sort itself out." She laughed softly. "Then Mom and Dad died."
The words hung in the warm night air.
“After that, everything became about keeping us afloat. Keeping the house. Keeping Wayfinder. After a while, I stopped believing there'd ever be room for a family of my own.
Ryan reached over and quietly took her hand. "You don't have to carry all that anymore."
She smiled and intertwined her fingers with his. "I know."
For a moment they simply listened to the wind moving through the trees.
Then Ryan spoke. "You know..." He sounded oddly hesitant. "I think I want kids someday."
Marina looked at him, along with her sister.
He laughed nervously. "Maybe sooner than someday."
Marina felt her breath catch.
The words settled somewhere deep inside her, in the place she'd carefully closed off years ago. "Really?"
Her voice came out softer than she'd intended.
Ryan nodded. "Yeah."
There wasn't a trace of uncertainty in his eyes. Not obligation. Not fantasy. Simple certainty.
Tears blurred her vision before she could stop them. Not because of what he'd said, but because she had finally allowed herself to picture it.
Children running across a yard. Laughter drifting through an open window. A home that never felt too quiet.
Not because it was perfect, but because it was full.
Katrina broke the silence. "Wow." She grinned at Ryan. "You're talking about children? I thought your future plans consisted entirely of puppies."
Ryan laughed. "Well... puppies too."
"Good." Katrina leaned back against the swing. "Because after today I've discovered I'm excellent with children."
Marina laughed softly through her tears. "You just like carrying them around on your shoulders."
"Yep," Katrina said proudly. "I love every minute of it."
Ryan chuckled, slipping an arm around each of them.
The conversation wandered from children to puppies, then to surfing competitions, Jimmy's promised trip to Cliff Harbor, and whether Skylla would tolerate another dog in the house.
They talked as though the future were already theirs. Once, Marina had believed that kind of future belonged to other people.
She rested her head against Ryan's shoulder and looked out across the quiet Texas ranch.
A year ago, she had been dancing beneath a spotlight, wondering how many more nights it would take to pay off another bill. Tonight she was surrounded by people who already felt like family.
She still didn't know what the future would bring, but that uncertainty didn't frighten her. It was enough to know she wouldn't be facing it alone.