Epilogue
Four weeks later …
“To family. Wherever you find it,” Hal says as he holds up his beer.
“To family,” we chorus, taking a drink.
“Time for smores!” Piper cries from her chair.
We’re sitting by the fire in the backyard at Hal’s house after a Friday night dinner where we celebrated me getting permanent and full custody of Piper. She’s wearing a tiara and sash Jedd’s brothers got her for the event. She hasn’t stopped smiling since we told her the news.
Alex pleaded guilty to parental kidnapping and is waiting for sentencing at the county jail.
Harlan kept his word and talked to the prosecutor. What that means for her sentence is anyone’s guess, but I don’t worry about Alex anymore. Not like I used to. Not when I have a family to focus on.
It’s getting easier, especially now that I’m seeing a therapist to help untangle some of the trauma that sits heavy on my heart.
I want to be a better person. For myself. For Piper.
And for Jedd.
He deserves the best version of myself I can give him.
Like he can read my mind, my husband squeezes my hand before he brushes his lips across the crown of my head. I lean deeper into him, soaking in his heat in the chilly night air.
The garage’s expansion is almost done. They’re down to punch out, and Jedd’s expecting to reopen his new and fully functional shop in the next week or so. The guys are already lining up to help him move everything back in.
“We’ve got one more thing and then time for smores.” Duke pulls a paper out of his pocket and passes it to Jedd.
“What’s this?” he asks, taking it from Duke. His brothers all share the same shit-eating grin as I do.
The five of them brought me in on the secret about two weeks ago.
“What the fu—dge is this?” he quickly amends.
Piper dropped an f-bomb in class last week, and Jedd’s determined to clean up his language.
According to Hal, a call from the teacher about curse words is a parental badge of honor. I think Piper was more freaked about getting into trouble than we were mad.
But we’re settling in. I’m not her mom. She still calls me Aunt Andy, and Jedd’s still her uncle, but we’re her parents all the same.
“That is the balance on your business loan,” Rhett says with a smirk.
The six of us pooled our money together to pay off the loan for the expansion.
“But …” Jedd sputters. I reach out and grab his hand.
“Just say thank you.”
He squeezes my hand in his.
“I … thank you. But I didn’t want to take your money. Where did you guys even get this money?” Jedd glares at Duke.
Out of all the brothers, his income is the highest and the bulk of the money came from him, but Jedd doesn’t need to know that.
“Family means being there for each other. It means making each other’s lives easier even when the bonehead in question is determined to do everything on his own.”
“None of you needed help with your businesses,” he says on a sigh.
“I did,” Finch says. “I didn’t have the money to take in the alpacas a couple months ago. Duke gave me the money to bring them to the house and the money for materials to build their enclosure.”
Rhett holds up his hand. “Finch gifted the department the money for some new gear a few years back.”
Duke holds his hands up. “Dad gave me the money to build my shop after buying the house.”
Boone speaks up. “You all helped Jem outfit our house when she first moved to town.”
“And you’ve done all our car service for free for years,” I say.
“You helped me sell my camper when it wasn’t safe enough for Audra and me anymore,” Maisie says where she’s perched on Harlan’s lap.
Jedd swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“Family helps. If there’s anything you’ve taught me over the years, it’s that,” I whisper to him.
He clears his throat. “I—I don’t know what to say. Thank you, guys. Thank you.”
“Now is it time for smores?” Piper asks, breaking the tension.
Jedd looks at her before smiling. “Of course it’s time for smores. I’ll get the sticks.” He stands and heads for the barn at the back of the property.
Hal starts to stand, no doubt to follow him, but I stop him.
“Let me?” I ask, and he nods before sitting back down.
I walk across the backyard and through the now open barn door. Even years later the smell of hay lingers.
Jedd has his back to the door and doesn’t hear me come in.
“You okay?” I ask softly.
He turns to me, his eyes wet, and love for him swamps me.
I love that he’s not afraid to cry. Or be emotional. I love that he’s mine and that we can show him how much we love him. That we can give back to him for everything he’s given us.
He sniffs. “Yeah. Sorry. I just … wasn’t expecting that.”
“I know. But we all love you. I know you were adamant that you don’t take money from them, but they love you and wanted to help.”
I step forward, wrapping my arms around him, hugging him tightly.
“I love you,” he says on a sigh. His lips fall to my forehead.
“I love you, too. You’re not mad, right?”
He shakes his head. “No. Can’t exactly be mad when they already did it. What’s that saying about asking forgiveness instead of permission?” He smiles wryly.
I laugh. “That was part of it.”
He tilts my face up to his and kisses me.
The tickle of his beard on my face is as familiar as my shadow. The way his tongue teases my lips until I open for him sends a knot of want into my core.
“What’s taking so long?” Piper yells from just outside the door, breaking us apart.
Jedd laughs. “Coming, Pipsqueak.”
“Now, let’s go burn some marshmallows.”
We grab the roasting sticks and walk back to the fire—toward our family—hand in hand.