Epilogue
Afew weeks later, Walker’s new truck rolled slowly up the gravel driveway, its tires crunching softly as the engine idled down.
The sun was beginning to sink behind the tree line, spilling warm orange light across the cranberry bog.
Dust clung to the sides of the truck, the same way it clung to Walker.
He turned the engine off and sat there for a moment, hands resting on the steering wheel.
His shoulders ached in that deep, satisfying way that only came from a long day of physical labor.
He flexed his fingers, feeling the stiffness from hours of gripping tools, hauling feed, and fixing fence posts that refused to cooperate.
Today, Walker, handyman extraordinaire, worked with Marco Wilson on his ranch.
After a long day, the man’s cattle had settled, the chickens were already hopping onto their roosts, and the steady hum of cicadas filled the evening air.
A good day, he thought, smiling. Tomorrow, he would be working at Abel’s brewery.
His machinery needed a little tender loving care.
With his new career, each day was different with a new challenge, and he loved it.
He pushed open the truck door and stepped out, boots hitting the dirt with a dull thud. His jeans were streaked with soil, his shirt damp with sweat and dust. He stretched his back, wincing slightly before letting out a long breath.
From the porch, the screen door creaked open. "There you are."
Walker looked up to see Fernando leaning against the doorway, arms crossed but smiling softly. He was due to give birth any moment now. Their family would soon have a little girl named Juanita Medina.
Beans wiggled out past Fernando and barked happily, dancing around Walker. Their son was almost fully grown now – a big, fuzzy boy with no manners or sense of boundaries. Best boy ever, Walker thought as he bent to hug the large dog.
Looking up, Walker noticed the porch light glowing behind Fernando, and the smell drifting from the house. His stomach growled. "Smells like dinner from Gil’s place," he said, walking toward the steps.
"Pot roast," Fernando replied, wiggling his brows. "I figured you'd be starving after working with Marco all day."
Walker climbed the steps slowly, every muscle reminding him exactly how long the day had been.
When he reached the porch, Fernando gave him a quick once-over. "You look like the cows won."
Walker chuckled, wiping his hands on his jeans. "They tried. The buggers wouldn’t leave me alone while I worked on the fence. I had to hand out treats to get any peace."
Fernando reached up and brushed a streak of dirt from Walker’s cheek with his thumb. "You clean up, and I’ll put our dinner on plates. We can pretend it’s home-cooked."
Walker leaned against the doorframe for a second, looking out across the darkening woods. The wind rolled softly through the trees. It had been a long day, but he was finally home.