Epilogue
“You’re going to have to talk to my dad,” Riley said sleepily, happily, as she lay snuggled in the arms of the man she loved. The bedroom of his beach house seemed cozy with a fire going in the fireplace, although she was convinced anyplace would do as long as they were together.
“Yeah. Permission and all that.”
She laughed. “I was thinking more like working out living arrangements. At least until we get that expansion done.”
“Oh.” He grinned. “We’ll work it out. I like your dad.”
“And he likes you.” She tilted her head back so she could look up at him. “Enough to let this go ahead, I think.”
They’d hammered it out in the early hours this morning, that he would begin the process of reviving Stonewall.
He’d been bluntly honest with her about the possible disruptions to her life, but also the benefits.
He’d even suggested that Ed and the boys could have background parts if they wanted, at standard scale pay, in case they needed help with medical bills.
She’d already handled that, without hesitation, but she liked that he’d thought of it.
Just as she’d liked his only request about the new living quarters was a wall big enough to hang the painting on.
“Your dad’s one hurdle,” Miles said. “But there’s the issue of permits and state ordinances and officials, and all the bureaucratic hoops to jump through.”
“You need to talk to Rylan Rafferty. He’s buds with the governor, you know, after he made that custom saddle for him a while back. Maybe he could get him to rattle the film board’s cage for something as big as Stonewall.”
He grinned at her. “Girl, once you make up your mind you’re a steamroller, aren’t you?”
“You’d do well to remember that,” she said, in a teasingly warning tone.
“It’s going to take some bucks to get rolling again,” he said, now with a slight grimace. “And the thought of dealing with Swiffer again…” He trailed off with a shake of his head.
“Do you have to? Deal with him, I mean?”
He grimaced. “Not sure I can buy him out and finance the restart both. He’s a bit…greedy. And cheap, when it comes to spending on the things he’s supposed to be supporting.”
“Shane says guys like that’ll squeeze a nickel until the buffalo screams.”
He burst out laughing, and she loved the feel of it, how his whole body—every lean, luscious inch of it—flexed with it.
“I like your police chief,” he said.
She hesitated for a moment before saying, “What if somebody else bought him out?”
“Been thinking about that,” he admitted. “But there’s more risk involved now. No guarantee a restart will have the momentum or audience we had before.”
“What if that person didn’t care?”
“Who’s going to invest that kind of money and not—” He broke off suddenly, and stared at her. “Riley?”
She shrugged. “Have I mentioned I have a really sharp financial manager? And that he’s taken the money from that silly clip and multiplied it a few times over?”
“But…that’s why you…you thought I wanted your money. I don’t, Riley. I swear I don’t. I’d rather not do it at all than have you believe…that.”
“You couldn’t have wanted it if you didn’t know about it. And that’s what I believe.”
He closed his eyes for a moment and she felt him relax. She leaned in and rested her cheek on his chest, over his heart.
“Besides,” she said, “I want to see your vision of Stonewall. The real thing, as it should have been. And I’m sure I’m far from alone.”
He hugged her fiercely then. “As long as this isn’t something you think you need to or have to do.”
“That’s all behind us, Miles. No more of that. So, what else needs to happen?”
He looked thoughtful. “I’ll need to get an office in town. I don’t want to clutter up your house—”
“Our house,” Riley corrected.
Miles smiled widely, so obviously happy it made her almost tear up yet again. “Our house,” he corrected. “Anyway, there’s a lot of clutter, and I’ll need a place for meetings and a writers’ room and—”
“I got it,” she said, laughing now, delighted with his enthusiasm. “You need a place the size of city hall.”
“More like the library,” he said, grinning now. “That’s one of the things I love about Last Stand, that the library’s bigger than city hall.”
“You know, Yippee Ki Yay has a second floor they don’t use for much except occasional storage. They’ve talked now and then about renting it out, just haven’t been motivated. I’ll bet you could motivate them.”
“You think so?”
“You sure as heck motivate me,” she said, grinning.
Her lure worked, and it was some time later before they resumed their planning.
*
Miles didn’t want to think about how much it had cost her for a charter flight here on Christmas Eve, and now a return flight on Christmas Day afternoon.
He was still adjusting to the knowledge that Riley was, in simple terms, beyond rich.
In the world he was used to, most women in that position would have trumpeted it, both in demeanor and presentation.
But here was Riley dressed as she always was, except for a less worn pair of boots and jeans.
But that was the world he’d been used to.
The world he was now leaving behind. Oh, he knew he’d have to come back now and then, but he’d make sure it was as infrequent as possible.
Not just because the revival of Stonewall would be in Last Stand, but because the people of Last Stand were the kind he wanted to spend his time with.
His life with.
When they touched down in Whiskey River, he got a business card from the efficient, genial pilot, thinking this might be the best way to make the trips he couldn’t avoid.
It took only a matter of minutes to get to where Riley had left her SUV, even with the three bags he’d packed this trip.
There would be a lot more packing and moving to do, but it could wait.
He had what he needed now. And he couldn’t help looking at Riley when he thought it.
“I almost forgot,” she said as he was loading in his last bag into the way back. She reached for a box tucked up against the back seat and pulled it toward her. He could see it was new, and saw the subtle label saying Yippee Ki Yay. Then, to his surprise, she turned and handed it to him.
“What’s this?”
She grinned at him. “Jeremy’s idea, but we all voted on it.”
Brow furrowed, he undid the ribbon holding it closed, and lifted the lid. When he saw what was inside, his throat tightened. He looked up at this woman who had remade his life into something more beautiful than he’d ever dared hope for.
“You’ve earned it, my love.”
“I’m not…so sure of that.”
“Would it make you feel better if I told you about half of Last Stand, including a couple of the Highwaters, were in the store to help me pick it out? Believe me, what you’re going to do, make Stonewall really Texas, convinced any last doubters. Put it on, Flint.”
He reached in and lifted out the pristine cowboy hat, in a sandy-blond color with a darker, narrow hat band.
“Oh, good. It matches your hair as well as I thought it would,” Riley said happily.
Miles felt his ears heat up, and quickly put the hat that was so much more than just a hat on to try and hide it. When he met Riley’s steady gaze again, she was still smiling, but her eyes were sparkling as if wet. As if she were feeling the same tangle of emotions he was.
“Now that fits,” she said softly.
“I love you, Riley.” It was all he could think of to say. But didn’t it say everything?
Then she was in his arms, and he was hanging on to her as if she were the only thing keeping him earthbound. And he thought maybe she was.
He’d never taken more care getting into a vehicle than he did now, with that hat on his head. Just the feel of it made him proud.
As she was about to start the engine her phone chimed. She pulled it out and read a text. It made her smile. She sent a quick answer, and put the phone back in her jacket pocket. Then she looked at him.
“That was Ariel. Chance thinks he’s found our dog.”
Our dog.
It sounded so darned good he couldn’t help grinning at her. She grinned back.
He could see the glint of the late afternoon sun on the Pedernales as they headed for Last Stand. As they got close, Riley gave him a sideways glance.
“Mind if we make a stop?”
“Nope,” he said happily, smiling as he looked out the window. “Anything you want.” And I mean that in all ways.
“It’s just I promised Nic and Jackson…a report.”
That got his attention. “On Christmas Day?”
“Nic said especially on Christmas Day.”
They pulled in at the Baylor ranch and were quickly greeted by a delighted Maverick. On the dog’s heels was Jeremy, headed for him at a dead run.
“Uncle Miles, you came back!”
He caught the boy before he crashed into him and lifted him up. “I did.”
“You got your hat! Are you stayin’ now?”
“I am,” he said.
“Good. Now everybody’s here.”
“Everybody?”
“Everybody I want here,” the boy clarified, with a shy smile at Riley as he waved back toward the house. Miles looked up and saw the group of people walking toward them, all smiling widely. Jackson and Nic, Tris and her Logan, Tucker and his Emily…
“Quite a thing you’ve managed, buddy,” Jackson said to his son as he reached them.
Miles hugged the boy tightly, thinking Uncle was a pretty darn good title.
He thought about how this had all begun, with this bereft child staring with longing at a painting on his wall and wishing he could go there.
And now here they were, this small group of the people he trusted utterly and completely.
He looked back at Jeremy with a heartfelt smile. “You gave us all the best Christmas present ever, Jeremy. You brought us all home, together.”
The child beamed. Maverick woofed in soft approval.
And as they all walked toward the house, Miles looked around from the buildings of Thorpe’s Therapy Horses, to the Baylor house, to the gate that led to Riley’s ranch, where his new life would begin. And he knew he’d been more right than he’d realized. He was home.
They were all home. At last.
The End