Epilogue
One Year Later
“Okay, y’all, we’re going to start from the top all the way through!” Tapping her teal cowgirl boot on the hardwood floor, she called out, “Five, six, seven, eight!”
Boot heels tapped, laughs rang out over the music, as Roxy led the beginner line dancing class through an easy version of ‘Copperhead Road’. By the end of the song, the group applauded and laughed, high fives ringing out amongst many of them. She grinned at the group around her.
“That was great you guys! You’re really getting the hang of this one!” she said through the microphone. “Why don’t y’all take a water break, and then we can give ‘Freight Train another try from last week!”
There was a mix of hoots and hollers and groans at that announcement, and she laughed again.
The hall was dimly lit by colorful, rotating dance lights attached to the rough wood beam ceiling.
The Junction was a quaint little tavern nestled on the outskirts of Walloon Lake, about ten minutes away from Petoskey.
She had gotten a job as a bartender, the old-timey tavern reminding her so much of Lawless back in Texas. It felt like home.
The community interest had been incredible, the lines forming out the door on lesson nights. Who would have thought the little northern Michigan town would have such a passion for line dancing?
The skill levels ranged from novice to pretty dang good, and Roxy had been impressed with the outpouring of support. She’d had to add extra lessons in different skill levels, and instead of just once a month, she had weekly classes.
A skintight, white bodysuit with thin straps sucked her in, keeping her breasts in place, and it was tucked into her short jean shorts. Her hair had been left wild and curly down her back, but she’d started sweating during Shania Twain’s ‘Any Man of Mine’ routine.
Glancing around, she winked at Travis, who was leaning against one wall off to the side, manning the sound system, as always when she taught these lessons.
She sidled over to him, and he handed her a bottle of water before leaning down to kiss her swiftly.
His black cowboy hat sat low on his brow, and his long, light brown hair had been left loose around his shoulders.
He wore an indecently well-fitted pair of jeans, the hems curled slightly over his black cowboy boots.
A black Jack Daniels Whisky t-shirt stretched across his chest, the arms cut off as usual, revealing those beautiful, muscular, tattooed arms.
The nightmares that had started after that last night with Neal had been awful, to put it mildly.
She’d awake, sweating and crying, terror squeezing her throat, dread a suffocating weight on her chest as she relived those moments.
The kickback of the gun in her hands when she’d pulled the trigger, once, then twice.
The spray of blood that had shot from Neal’s neck with the second bullet piercing his neck.
The wet, squishing thunk that his body had made on the rain-soaked ground as he’d fallen, dead before her.
Travis was always there, had been there through all of it, every nightmare and all the subsequent police interrogations, the brief—though terrifying—court proceeding. He’d been a rock beside her through it all.
He had convinced her to try therapy. It was helping.
But more than anything, knowing he was there and knew exactly the torment that haunted her, despite the knowledge that she had acted in self-defense…
that if she hadn’t done what she’d done, she’d be the one dead… She had fought like hell to live.
Travis knew, better than anyone else in her life, what that felt like.
They shared the same demons, now. He knew all the shattered, broken pieces of her; knew all the darkest moments that tortured her still.
And yet, he loved her deeply, in spite of that brokenness.
She’d never been more thankful to have him by her side.
Splaying one hand on his chest, she smiled up at him. She loved him so much. It was strange now, to think back on those times before Travis had come into her life, before his love had saved her, in more ways than one.
“Are you going to join me tonight or just be a fly on the wall?” she asked against his mouth. He banded one arm around her waist, hauling her against him and she smiled.
“What did you have in mind?” he murmured against her lips.
“’Freight Train’ with our dip?” she asked, grinning. He groaned. It was a fast-paced song and definitely wasn’t for beginners, but it was her favorite, and she knew Travis liked any excuse to put his hands on her while dancing.
“Anything for my girl,” he sighed, shaking his head with a wink.
While the group took their five-minute water break, they could run through the dance as a reminder of the steps she’d taught them the week prior.
“Okay y’all! We’re going to run through ‘Freight Train’, so feel free to just watch or join in if you’re feeling ready!
” she called, leading Travis out to the middle of the floor, their fingers linked together.
Several women sighed as they passed, and Roxy grinned up at him.
She knew they liked watching him as much as she did.
Travis used the remote to cue up the music, and then she spun so her back was to him.
The fingers of their right hands were linked over her right shoulder, their left hands linked down at their sides.
Counting out the start, they were off. Flying through the steps, Travis kept up with her easily, they’d practiced this one so many times.
Out of her peripheral, she could see several other individuals and couples join them, but the majority of the group stayed on the outskirts of the dance floor, letting the more practiced dancers take the floor.
Spinning, she laughed up into Travis’s face as he backed up, stomped, and then paced forward as she repeated the move he’d just made, backing up and stomping her boot heel. Reaching out, she snagged the hat off his head, plopping it onto her head with a wink.
When their hands linked again, moving them both forward, he leaned down and growled into her ear, “You know what that means, Roxy.”
Butterflies took flight in her belly, like always when he used that gravelly, growly tone with her. Breathless, she glanced up at him from beneath the wide brim of his hat and nodded, smiling. “Of course I do, Travis.”
He spun her under his arm twice, then hauled her close, her chest colliding with his as his arm banded around her waist, holding her as he dipped her low over his arm.
His other hand slid down her hip, over the bare thigh that she lifted toward his waist, kicking her booted foot up to a round of raucous cheers from the attendees at the edge of the dance floor.
Pulling her back up, he let his fingers trail down the exposed skin of her chest, and goosebumps flashed across her skin despite the heat in the room and the sweat dancing along her skin. Then he was twirling her away and she spun once, twice, stomping as she came back around.
She startled when the entire room exploded with noise, screams and shouts and applause ringing out, nearly blocking out the music. Eyes wide, she spun around to face Travis, but stopped in her tracks, mouth falling open in shock.
Down on one knee in the middle of the dance floor, he grinned up at her, that perfectly white smile she loved so much pulling at his bearded cheeks.
His honey gold eyes crinkled at the corners, lighting her up from the inside out.
In his outstretched hand sat a tiny black box, a glittering diamond ring nestled inside.
The cheers from the group around them was deafening, and he continued grinning up at her. She was panting raggedly, out of breath and stunned speechless. God, she loved this man.
“If you’re going to wear my hat, you’re going to wear my ring, too, woman,” he rasped, his eyes dancing. “Be my wife, Roxy. Please?”
Stepping forward so that she stood directly in front of him, she cupped his bearded jaw in her hands and leaned down to press her mouth to his in a searing, heated kiss. The roar of the crowd exploded around them again, and when she finally pulled back, she nodded against his lips.
“I’m gonna need you to spell it out for me, baby girl. I want the words.”
She laughed then, rolling her eyes. “Yes, Travis. I will be your wife.”
He grinned widely against her mouth before capturing her lips with his again.
And then he was standing, holding her left hand in his as he slid the stunning ring onto her third finger as the crowd continued their cheers.
Bringing her hand up to his lips, he pressed his lips to the sparkling diamond nestled safely on her finger.
Tilting her face up with his other hand beneath her chin, he whispered, “To forever, my love.”
And what a beautiful forever it would be.