Dalton
Five years later...
The sound of small feet thundering down the stairs woke me before dawn, which was saying something since I’d been waking before sunrise my entire adult life.
“Daddy! Daddy! It’s snowing!”
I groaned and reached for Riley, but her side of the bed was already empty and cold. Of course it was. Our daughter had probably woken her up an hour ago.
“Daddy!” The small voice was more insistent this time, followed by the door banging open.
I cracked one eye open to find Charlotte Rose Hart standing beside the bed in her reindeer pajamas, her dark curls—so much like her mother’s—sticking up in every direction.
“Morning, sunshine,” I mumbled.
“It’s snowing, Daddy. Can we make snow angels? Can we? Please?”
At three and a half, Charlie had two volumes—loud and louder. She also had her mother’s stubbornness and my complete and total devotion.
“How about we get some breakfast first?” I sat up, scooping her into my arms. She squealed with delight as I tickled her sides. “Where’s Mama?”
“In the kitchen with Aunt Mae. They’re making pancakes. The good kind with chocolate chips.”
Of course they were. Riley had become an excellent cook over the years and loved making those chocolate chip pancakes for Charlie every Saturday morning.
I carried my daughter downstairs, her chattering filling my ears with Christmas wishes and snow angels and something about wanting a pony for her birthday.
The kitchen was warm and bright, smelling like coffee and vanilla. Riley stood at the stove, her hair piled on top of her head, wearing one of my old flannel shirts over leggings. Mae sat at the table, sipping coffee.
“There’s my two favorite people,” Riley said, turning to smile at us.
Five years, and that smile still hit me like a punch to the gut.
“Mama, Daddy says we can make snow angels after breakfast.”
“Did he now?” Riley’s eyes met mine over Charlie’s head, filled with amusement. “And did Daddy remember that the Christmas tree needs to be carried in this morning so we can decorate it tonight?”
Shit. I had not remembered that.
“I’m sure Daddy can handle both,” I said, setting Charlie down at the table. “Right after coffee.”
Riley poured me a cup, pressing a kiss to my jaw as she handed it to me. “You’re the best husband ever.”
“Don’t let him fool you,” Mae said. “He just wants those pancakes.”
Charlie giggled, and I realized this—this moment right here—was everything I’d ever wanted and hadn’t known I needed.
After Riley had said yes to getting married, everything had fallen into place faster than I’d expected. We’d gotten married that spring in a simple ceremony on the ridge overlooking the ranch, with just Mae, the ranch hands and a few friends from friends from town.
Riley had taken to ranch life like she’d been born to it. She and Mae worked together in the kitchen, and Riley had started helping with the books too, discovering she had a knack for organization that the ranch desperately needed.
Then, two years ago, Charlie had arrived, and our world had exploded with joy and chaos in equal measure.
“Earth to Dalton,” Riley said, waving a hand in front of my face. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I pulled her onto my lap, even though Charlie immediately protested that Mama was supposed to be making pancakes. “Just thinking about how lucky I am.”
“Sap,” she accused, but her eyes were soft.
“Your sap.”
“My sap,” she agreed, kissing me quickly before sliding off to flip the pancakes.
After breakfast, I bundled Charlie into her snow gear while Riley cleaned up. The ranch hands were already out working, but I had designated myself Christmas tree duty this morning.
“Ready, sunshine?”
“Ready!” Charlie grabbed my hand, practically vibrating with excitement.
We trudged out into the fresh snow, Charlie immediately throwing herself down to make angels. I stood watching her, my heart so full it actually hurt.
“She’s got your energy,” Riley said, coming up beside me. She’d thrown on a coat and boots, her camera in hand. She’d taken up photography as a hobby and was constantly capturing moments around the ranch.
“And your attitude.”
“Hey!”
I pulled her against me, watching as Charlie made her third snow angel, this one apparently for Uncle Jake.
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
“For what?”
“For staying. For saying yes. For giving me all of this.” I gestured to Charlie, to the ranch, to the life we’d built together.
Riley turned in my arms, her eyes suspiciously bright. “You know what I realized the other day?”
“What’s that?”
“I haven’t thought about leaving in three years. Not once. I don’t even remember what that feeling was like anymore—that urge to run.”
“That’s because you found your place.”
“No.” She pressed her hand over my heart. “I found my person. The place just came with the package.”
I kissed her until Charlie yelled that we were being gross and she needed help making a snowman.
Later that afternoon, after the tree was set up in the living room, and Charlie had helped decorate by putting the majority of the ornaments on the bottom three branches, after Mae had made hot chocolate and the ranch hands had stopped by to admire our handiwork, I found Riley standing at the kitchen window.
Just like that first day I’d seen her, staring at the snow falling and the Christmas lights twinkling around the front porch.
“You okay?” I asked, coming up behind her, my favorite thing to do. I loved wrapping my arms around her, smelling her sweet scented hair, feeling her curves pressed against me.
“More than okay.” She turned, taking my hand and placing it on her stomach. “I have something to tell you.”
My heart stopped. “Riley—”
“Charlie’s going to be a big sister.”
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I could only feel an overwhelming rush of love and joy and gratitude. “You’re sure?”
She nodded. “I went to the doctor yesterday when I was in town. I’m about six weeks along.”
I dropped to my knees, pressing my forehead against her stomach. “Another one.”
“Another one.” Her hands threaded through my hair. “You okay with that?”
“Okay with it?” I stood, lifting her into my arms and spinning her around. “Baby, I’m fucking ecstatic.”
“Language,” she reminded me, but she was laughing.
“Daddy said a bad word.”
We both turned to find Charlie standing in the doorway, her hands on her hips in a perfect imitation of her mother.
“Daddy’s very sorry,” I said, not sorry at all. “He’s just very happy.”
“Why?”
Riley and I looked at each other, and I nodded.
She knelt down to Charlie’s level. “How would you like to be a big sister?”
Charlie’s eyes went wide. “Really?”
“In about seven months, yeah.”
“Best Christmas ever.” Charlie launched herself at us, and we caught her in a group hug.
That night, after Charlie was asleep and Mae had retired to her cabin, Riley and I lay in bed, her back pressed against my chest, my hand splayed over her stomach.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“That six years ago, you walked into my kitchen and changed my entire life.”
“I seem to remember you being a bit upset that I was going to burn your kitchen down.”
“And instead, you stole my heart.”
She turned in my arms, her eyes searching mine. “You know what the best part is?”
“What’s that?”
“I’m not scared anymore. Of staying, of losing, of loving too much.” She pressed her hand over my heart. “I’m just... happy. Really, truly happy.”
“Me too, baby. Me too.”
Outside, snow continued to fall on Hartland Ranch. Christmas lights twinkled on the porch. In the room down the hall, our daughter slept peacefully, dreaming of snow angels and ponies.
And here in our bed, Riley and I held each other close, already excited about the new life growing between us.
Six years ago, she’d been a disaster in my kitchen, burning biscuits and setting off smoke alarms.
Now she was my whole world.
And I wouldn’t change a single thing.