Epilogue
Two weeks later, the late afternoon sun slanted through the high windows of the barn, painting golden stripes across the worn wooden floorboards. Maggie paused in the doorway, inhaling the sharp tang of hay and horses. She crossed the dusty aisle toward Rafe’s office. Her heart still pounded when she remembered how hard Junior had swung that shovel, and how lucky she was that Rafe’s only injury had been a concussion.
“Hey.” His voice came low and steady. Maggie looked up to find him leaning against the doorframe, arms folded over his broad chest, dark hair tousled from him running his fingers through it. Concern softened his blue eyes as he watched her approach.
“How are you?” she asked, her boots scuffing straw.
Rafe managed a rueful chuckle and shook his head. “The same as I was when you asked me this morning. I’m fine, baby.”
Relief flooded through Maggie. She slipped her arms around his waist and pressed a gentle kiss to his neck, feeling the steady thump of his heart.
“That makes me very happy. I was worried about you.”
He tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. “I know, but I’m okay. Really.”
Maggie pulled back just enough to search his bruised forehead. “Is Fred better now?”
Rafe’s jaw tightened. “He’s still upset, but I told him this wasn’t on him. He thinks it’s his fault Junior turned out like he did.”
“I told him the same the day it happened. He was so scared for you, like I was.” Maggie’s voice trembled. “I didn’t even think to call nine-one-one.” Tears glistened at the corners of her eyes.
Rafe’s expression hardened. “You should have done that when you were hiding from that prick,” he snapped.
Guilt knotted in Maggie’s chest. “I only thought of you,” she whispered, voice breaking.
At her confession, Rafe gathered her into a fierce hug, burying his face in her hair. “I’d gladly kill him,” he muttered beneath his breath, an unguarded vow of protection.
“I know,” she murmured, her tears moist against his shirt.
Rafe cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away stray tears. He met her gaze, blue eyes gleaming with feeling. “I’d do anything for you, Maggie. Anything.”
She clung to him as though he were the ground beneath her feet. “Same here.”
He gently tilted her chin upward. The setting sun lit his profile. “I love you,” he whispered, voice husky. “I can’t offer you much—”
Maggie pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “You’re all I need.” She managed a smile that trembled with emotion. “I love you too, Rafe.”
A slow grin spread across his face. “I know.”
She laughed softly, wiping away the last of her tears. “I was never good at hiding things.”
Rafe chuckled. “I fell in love with you the first time I saw you, and that made me hate him more. I couldn’t understand what you saw in him, but at least I know you never loved him.”
Maggie’s lips curved in tender amusement. “I’ve always loved you, Rafe.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” He brushed a thumb across her cheek. “Fred told me the only thing he asks of me when he’s gone is to keep the name of the ranch. I told him I would.”
“I’m glad he’s leaving it to you, though I hope that’s a long way off.”
“Me too.” Rafe kissed her forehead.
A sudden seriousness fell between them. Maggie tilted her head, searching his face. “So, what do we do now?”
Rafe considered her, the afternoon light glinting in his eyes. “What do you want to do?”
Her answer came without hesitation. “Get married.”
He blinked, surprise flickering across his features before he suppressed a grin. “Whoa! Married? Who said anything about getting married?”
Maggie cocked a brow. “Remember when I joked I’d leave you at the hospital doorstep? I can do that now, Rafe Marshall.”
Rafe laughed, then gently, he drew her close. “I’m kidding. Of course, we’ll get married. I want you to move in with me, before we get married though.”
“I’d love that.” Maggie rose on tiptoe and kissed him softly.
Rafe deepened the kiss, and Maggie responded with a soft moan, her arms tightening around his neck.
He broke away at last, smiling into her eyes. “For now, let’s go home. I think we have some time to make up for.”
“Sounds good,” she said, laughter dancing in her voice. “But this time, it’s my ride, cowboy.”
Rafe groaned playfully, then offered his hand. Maggie took it, and together they walked from the warm shadows of the barn into the afternoon light, driving off toward the place Maggie had always yearned for—home, with Rafe.
* * * The End * * *