Epilogue
The subsequent six months went by in a whirlwind. Mark watched from the sidelines as Val did her first run-throughs with her initial handfuls of students, and though there were a couple of minor glitches, it’d been nothing that couldn’t be adjusted.
So, Val had since gone whole hog, as they said. She had her facility, about twenty-five students and another instructor, as well as a home and grounds of her own within ten minutes of Mark’s place there in Rocky Ridge.
Her living so much closer changed the entire dynamic of her and Mark’s relationship. Without the constant struggle of distance between the pair, dating became so much simpler. And with everything for her going well, and everything in his life going well—Blair even secured herself a full-time job in social work—things had improved to the point of almost being unrecognizable.
Fortunately, Val’s wounds healed up without issue. She had to complete some physical therapy to deal with some of the damage to her arm, and she’d likely always have a visible scar. But other than a numb spot near her elbow, she had full use. Despite this, though, she decided to retire from full-time trick riding. She rode Maybelline almost daily once her doctors gave the go ahead. Her days on the rodeo circuit, though, had ended.
Mark had mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, it kept her nearby, which he felt so thankful for. But on the other, he worried about her resenting the loss of her career. He hated that it’d been stolen from her by a violent act by a demented man with nothing but dangerous intentions. And every single day, Mark appreciated that she hadn’t been killed.
So after one of her practices with her young trick riders, he asked her about it.
“I mean, do I miss it? Yeah, I do,” she admitted, even though she didn’t seem despondent or anything. “But Mark, I love doing what I’m doing now. Helping these girls learn this craft and seeing the joy in their faces when they nail a new stunt…” She clasped her hands together almost prayerfully. “It’s the best thing ever. I don’t know. Maybe I was always meant to be a teacher.”
Mark thought about that. Other than her struggling during her recovery sometimes, she really did appear content. Maybe he shouldn’t jump to the conclusion that she felt unhappy if she didn’t. Still, he had to press on that a little more.
“So, you like all this?” He indicated the green fields of the land she’d purchased. Right now with the fresh spring growth, wild flowers, and green spreading out across the landscape toward a softly rolling hill, it really was lovely. It smelled like clover and rich soil.
“Of course,” she peered over at him with an inquisitive expression. “Then, there’s this nice little side benefit of being here. You know, near Sweet Everything.”
Val bumped him with a hip, teasing.
“And don’t forget your second ever favorite cheeseburger.”
“True. That, too.”
Automatically, he entwined their fingers together, cautious as always since this was the arm that had been injured. Since she wore short sleeves today, he could see the distinctive scarring along her forearm, proof of what had happened to her. How he’d almost lost her.
Mark had to work hard to keep his hands from clenching in fury. Even knowing Val was right here with him and totally safe, he couldn’t help being angry at Biggs. And that was despite him being permanently out of the picture.
An investigation had uncovered that Ulysses Biggs hadn’t only ripped off Val during his time as her manager, he had a checkered past he’d been escaping, as well. He’d even scammed another woman down in South Carolina, though in this case it’d been an elderly woman.
He’d stolen that lady’s life savings after convincing her to make him her beneficiary. Then, she’d died a month later. Granted, she’d been in her late eighties, but still. The timing had been suspicious. After the certifiable malice he’d used to shoot Val in cold blood, Mark wasn’t surprised to hear Biggs had already been guilty of other instances of felonious wrongdoing.
Whatever the state of the man’s mentality, Mark couldn’t help but feel relieved that he could no longer hurt Val or anyone else.
“I love you,” he told her, gazing into her eyes so she knew he was sincere. He did this every day without fail. He’d never not do it. Not after coming so close to losing her forever. She tightened her hold on him.
“Love you, too. I love being here in Rocky Ridge. And Dad and I can always visit the property over by Billings.”
Her and Fred had chosen to rent the property where she’d grown up rather than sell it outright. So, since they still owned the property, it was theirs. Whether they’d always keep it, Mark didn’t know, but for now, this arrangement was working for them.
Even Fred seemed to have this new lease on life there at Rocky Ridge. As the second instructor, he was able to use all his years of knowledge helping his daughter with this second crop of youthful trick riders. He seemed to be having a blast.
“Keeps me young,” he’d said once when Mark had asked about it.
Mitzi, for her part, remained on as Val’s assistant in this changed capacity. She did most of the prep work with the half a dozen horses they’d since purchased, and even oversaw the other stable employees that Val had hired.
Basically, Val was building her own empire and creating the next generation of rodeo stars. Mark couldn’t be any prouder.
But there had been one specific topic that they’d been studiously avoiding. Both of them. Mark hadn’t brought it up, and he’d noticed that Val hadn’t broached the subject, either. In fact, it’d been a conspicuous fact that he kept waiting for her to ask him about, but she didn’t.
“Come here,” he tugged at her. “I have something to show you.”
Mitzi had been the one to save the day this time, something he knew she did for Val on the regular. The tack room in most stables wasn’t anything but utilitarian, full of leather saddles, related paraphernalia, and tools. Oftentimes, they were small and confined spaces that were used to work and provide storage but little else.
Val’s tack room, however, was something far better. With her dad and Mitzi, she’d designed it to not only be practical but beautiful. It held the typical tools and equipment on the walls, but any of these not in use were displayed like the works of art they were.
The tack room also had a large picture window that overlooked the training field and had been painted a pristine, eggshell white. She’d even situated a short round table in there with stools so people could be comfortable if they needed to duck in out of the weather.
Val gasped as they entered. With Mitzi’s help, Mark had strung dozens of sets of patio lights around the walls and ceiling, some with multi-colored globes and some clear to give the place a soft glow. They’d placed a nice linen tablecloth over the round tabletop along with china settings, two servings of decadent desserts—black forest brownies, of course—and hot cocoa. In the center, Mitzi had assembled a flawless bouquet of local wildflowers.
It certainly set the scene.
“What’s all this?” Val asked him, and now his intestines jittered. This date held importance, but it was also… complicated.
“Well, it just so happens that today, exactly a year ago, we met.”
She blinked several times, and he could see the gears in her head processing the dates. “You’re right.”
“Thought we might celebrate it as our anniversary. If you’re okay with that.”
“Okay with it? I think it’s a wonderful idea.” She grinned broadly, her cheeks bunching up as she rushed over to take a seat.
But Mark still felt nervous. He watched as she sat on her stool—one that had been covered in a cushion since the day before—then he approached. And dropped to one knee.
At first, Val had glanced out the window as a couple of the horses were nickering and playing outside. By the time she noticed where he was, he’d removed the little square box from his pocket and propped it open. Then, she gaped at him, her hands flying up to her mouth.
“Val, I live a life devoted to duty. To my family. To my town. It’s been that way my whole adult life. But you made me realize that life can be about more, that it should be about more. About companionship, friendship, and love. I know my job has its pitfalls, but now that I have you here, I’ve been able to think of nothing but this. I saved it for today in the hopes that the day we met will become memorialized eternally. That is, if you’re willing to become my wife.”
She remained there, hands frozen over her mouth, her eyes fixed on the simple white gold marquis diamond solitaire engagement ring he’d bought her. Val didn’t move.
He waited and waited some more.
“You gonna say anything?” he finally asked, and that’s when tears welled up and she dropped into his embrace.
“I didn’t see this coming. Not at all.”
Okay, but that wasn’t an answer.
“Mitzi was my partner in crime,” he admitted.
Val laughed through her tears. “Figures.” She retrieved the ring and placed it on her left ring finger, studying it with that same smile on her features.
“Is that a yes, then?”
She smacked his arm. Smacked him.
“Of course, it’s a yes. Like I’d ever say anything else to a proposal of yours.”
Finally, a tsunami of relief poured through him as he stood, taking her with him.
“Back when you were hurt, I lied to the information lady at the hospital so I could get in. Told her and all the medical staff that I was your fiancé.”
“I remember that. Guess it’s real now,” she said, holding her hand up to admire her ring.
They’d been so lucky to reach this point. Lucky and blessed. Him, especially. Then, they embraced, each moving at the same time, and holding on with the kind of grip that proved that they never wanted to let go.
And Mark swore he wouldn’t.
* * *
The Duncan Ranch is a big employer in Rocky Ridge, Montana. The cowboys on this ranch work hard and they play hard. The small town culture molds and shapes their lives in ways that make them into the upstanding men they need to be. Building families and good citizens one cowboy at a time. Duncan Ranch.