Epilogue
Hopper
The morning air is crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth, fresh hay, and the last whispers of summer fading into fall. The sky is shifting, trading deep blue for golden pink, the first streaks of sunlight stretching across the fields like a promise.
I step out onto the wraparound porch, coffee in one hand, the other braced on the railing as I take in everything we’ve built.
And for the first time in longer than I can remember, I let myself breathe.
Let myself be happy.
It’s been three months since everything settled. Since Nysa came home after I almost lost her.
Three months since we started building something real. Something ours.
We merged our properties, blending my ranch with her sustainable farm—something I never thought I’d do with anyone. But this?
This was never just about land.
It was about building a life together.
Looking at it now, I know we made the right choice.
Her fields stretch wide, already thriving, each row planted with purpose. Corn and pumpkins, just in time for the fall harvest. Grapevines that will take years to yield fruit, but already rooted strong. The greenhouse is packed with herbs, root vegetables, greens she’s testing, always learning, always growing.
And then there’s my side—pastures expanding, new animals brought in, barns reinforced, the land being used exactly the way it was meant to be.
A blend of both our dreams. Both our hard work.
Not just a season.
It’s a forever. Our forever.
The back door creaks open, and I don’t have to turn to know who it is.
Soft, footsteps move across the wooden planks, and then arms wrap around my waist, a warm face pressing against my back.
Nysa.
“Morning, baby,” I murmur, setting my coffee aside so I can pull her in front of me, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
She hums sleepily, fingers curling into my shirt, eyes still hazy from sleep.
“You’re up early.”
I smirk. “So are you.”
She sighs, stretching up onto her toes to brush a slow, lingering kiss over my lips before resting her head against my chest.
“It’s hard not to wake up when the man I love leaves me in a warm bed alone,” she teases.
I chuckle, fingers trailing down her spine. “Didn’t want to leave, but had to check on the horses.”
“You love those horses more than me,” she grumbles against my chest, but there’s no bite to it.
I smirk. “No, they’re just a little more demanding than you.”
She pinches my side, making me grunt, then laughs softly, her warmth sinking into me.
This woman.
This brilliant, stubborn, too-smart-for-her-own-good woman.
She changed everything.
And I’m never letting her go.
We stand there for a while, watching as Maddie’s laughter floats through the crisp morning air. She’s in the chicken coop, feeding them grain under Nolan’s—one of our farmhands—watch, her curls bouncing, her whole face alight with joy.
“She’s so happy here,” Nysa murmurs, watching her.
“She has everything she needs,” I say simply.
Because she does.
A home. A family. People who love her.
And a place where she’ll grow up safe, surrounded by animals, fields, and all the good this world has to offer.
“She’s going to be a rancher,” I joke.
Nysa snorts. “She’s going to own this whole damn place someday. Might as well start early.”
I grin as Maddie carefully pets the goat’s head, delight lighting up her face.
“Fine by me.”
There was a time I didn’t think I’d ever have this.
A home that actually feels like home.
A woman who makes me feel whole.
A daughter who looks at me like I hung the damn moon.
But somehow, I got lucky.
And I’m never taking that for granted.
The wind stirs through the fields, rustling golden stalks of corn, carrying the scent of fall through the air.
I wrap an arm around Nysa’s shoulders, pulling her close, pressing a slow kiss to her temple.
She exhales, tilting her face up to me, her eyes holding something I still don’t have words for.
Something too deep. Too endless.
I cup her cheek, my thumb tracing along her jaw.
And then I murmur the only thing that’s ever felt true.
“I love you.”
She smiles, soft and sure, her hand settling over mine.
“I love you too.”
And just like that—everything falls into place.
Our life.
Our future.
Our home.
Together.
Nysa
After Maddie is asleep, I step outside onto the wraparound porch, pulling my sweater tight around me. The air is cold, but the sky is clear—stars stretched wide across the horizon, endless and quiet.
I don’t hear Hopper approach, but I feel him—like I always do.
His arms wrap around me from behind, pulling me into his warmth, his chin resting on my shoulder.
“You thinking about today?” he asks.
I exhale slowly, watching my breath curl into the cool air.
“I’m thinking about how lucky I am,” I murmur. “I don’t know if I ever imagined a life like this.”
He shifts, pressing a slow kiss to the side of my neck, his lips warm against my skin. “You deserve all of it.”
I close my eyes, leaning into him. “So do you.”
He lets out a breath that’s more laughter than anything, his arms tightening around me.
Then, softly, like he’s known the answer all along, he whispers?—
“Marry me.”
My whole body stills.
Slowly, I turn in his arms, looking up at him.
And what I see takes my breath away.
His blue eyes burn with something deep, something sure, something that’s always been there but now—now it’s brighter than ever.
His hands settle on my hips, grounding me. “I was going to wait until I had some big, perfect plan. Something fancy, something . . .” He shakes his head. “But that’s not us, is it?”
I laugh softly, shaking my head.
His lips curve into that half-smirk, the one that’s always wrecked me, but his voice is soft when he says, “I want you. Forever. Under this sky, on this land, with Maddie, with our life . . . I want it all, Nysa. I want you to be my wife.”
I don’t realize I’m crying until he wipes a tear from my cheek with his thumb.
I grab his wrist, holding him there, grounding myself in this.
“You sure?” I whisper, just to hear him say it again.
He huffs out a quiet laugh, his forehead pressing to mine.
“Nysa, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life.”
He pulls something from his pocket—a small velvet box—but he doesn’t open it right away.
Instead, he just holds it between us, his gaze locked on mine.
“This isn’t just for me,” he murmurs. “It’s for Maddie. It’s for us. It’s for the life we’re building.”
His voice catches on those last words, and that’s what undoes me.
Not the ring.
Not the perfect, swoony words.
But him.
The way he loves me.
Instead of answering, I pull him down into a kiss that says everything.
Yes.
Yes, to forever.
Yes, to this life.
Yes, to him.
When we finally break apart, his breath is uneven, his hands still gripping my waist like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.
“Is that a yes?” he murmurs, his voice rough.
I laugh, wiping my face as I nod. “It’s a yes.”
He exhales like he’s been holding it in for years, then slides the ring onto my finger.
It fits perfectly, like it’s always belonged there.
He pulls me close again, tucking me into his chest.
“I love you,” he says against my hair.
I press my face into him, my arms wrapping around his waist.
“I love you too.”
And just like that, under the same sky, on the land we built together. We’ve chosen forever.