Epilogue – Vivianne
Vivianne
Christmas Eve, Seventeen Years Later
Nat King Cole played in the background as Emeline, my youngest daughter, who had turned ten a few months back, played Santa this year. She handed out everyone’s gifts with a bright smile on her face.
I sat back and watched as each sibling thanked her.
Her dark brown hair, which she got from her father, was cut in a short bob, and those brilliant blue eyes sparkled with delight as she moved from sibling to sibling.
She may not look like me, but she was still my mini-me.
Obsessed with horses, a heart for philanthropy, and her dream was to become a teacher, just like her mother.
Once all the gifts were passed out, we drew names to determine who would open their gifts first. Caden won the draw.
He was our oldest and, like his sister, the spitting image of his father.
Dark brown hair and eyes the color of the sky.
They were darker than Ladd’s eyes and so stunningly beautiful, I had to sometimes remind myself they weren’t contacts.
Caden opened his first gift, the one from Emeline.
It was a new pair of working gloves. He stood and walked over to her, kissing her on the cheek.
That was my Caden. He loved big, with his whole heart, and wore his emotions on his sleeve.
He’d been dating the same girl, Rachel, since they were freshmen.
He’d worked all summer doing extra chores so he could buy her a necklace she said she wanted.
If they stayed together, Rachel would be one very pampered young lady.
Then you had the second youngest, Gatlin.
Oh, how he reminded me of his uncle David.
He lived for the ranch, and from the time he could read, he’d devoured anything to do with cattle, ranching, and how to be a cowboy.
He was my wild Wilde child, who got that from his father.
He was the first of my kids to break a bone while trying to rappel out of their tree house.
My little adventurer, always up for anything fun and exciting.
He also had a white cowboy hat that matched his father’s favorite.
My gaze moved to my second oldest, Ensley.
When she was six years old, she snuck out of her bed, turned off the house alarm, and made her way to the barn so she could sleep with her favorite horse, Cupcake, because she’d heard wolves howling in the distance.
Never mind the horse was tucked away in her stall, safe and sound.
I nearly had a heart attack when I couldn’t find her.
It was Caden who’d found her, warning her that if she didn’t get back to bed, she’d never be allowed to see the horses again.
They somehow managed to sneak back into the house while Ladd and I were frantically searching, then tried to convince me she’d been there the entire time.
It wasn’t until Ladd had found her pillow and blanket in Cupcake’s stall that we discovered where she’d been.
She and Caden were thick as thieves, even back then, and there was no way he’d have ratted out his little sister.
They’d do anything to protect one another—and apparently, that included lying to Ladd and me.
I grinned as I watched Ensley sit on her new saddle, pretending she was about to rope a calf. Her motto was, if a boy can do it, she could do it five times better. And most of the time, she was right.
Once everyone’s presents had been opened, it was time to watch a movie.
Each year, the kids got to pick which movie we’d watch on Christmas Eve.
Tomorrow, we’d make our way to Gus and Nellie’s from our house on the other side of the ranch.
We’d lived in the hunter’s cabin for three years after we got married, until we realized we were quickly outgrowing the little place.
We tore the cabin down and repurposed almost all of it for the house we built on that same spot.
I loved our two-story house. It had five bedrooms and five-and-a-half bathrooms. It was a ranch-style home, and we opted not to go with a wraparound porch, and instead chose a large back deck that offered a view of the southern mountain range, which overlooked the BLM land in the distance that had once belonged to the ranch.
The main barn was now located on our side of the ranch, and was where they handled everything for the cattle operation.
The original cattle barn was torn down years ago.
The horse barn was still near the main ranch house, and had been expanded over the years.
There was now an outdoor arena adjacent to the indoor one, where we still held the annual Wilde Christmas Morning.
We still invited kids from River Falls Haven, but no longer on Christmas Day.
It had become too big, requiring weeks of prep work before Christmas, and days of teardown after.
And the event itself was no longer contained to the morning.
It hadn’t been fair to the volunteers, keeping them away from their families for so long, so we moved it to the first weekend after Christmas.
The kids still got their gifts, and we still put up the themed trees.
It was clear, though, that someday soon we’d have to expand the event to invite some of the less-fortunate kids in our community, as well.
As I watched my own kids enjoy their Christmas gifts, my mind drifted to the phone call I’d received two weeks ago. It was from my aunt Karen, whom I hadn’t heard from in over two decades. She’d called to tell me that my father had passed away from a heart attack.
My mother had passed away two years earlier.
My father, at the time, sent me a letter to let me know she’d died after suffering a major stroke.
She’d left some items to me in her will, and I was to notify him as to where to send them.
I’d disposed of the letter in our fireplace and never heard from my father again.
Regardless, my aunt, told me that my parents’ entire estate had been left to me.
She was named the executor. I asked Karen to please make arrangements so that I could leave the estate to River Haven.
Any paperwork she needed me to sign, she could simply send it my way.
Karen was shocked, to say the least, saying she’d never known what happened to cause the rift between me and my folks. I decided it could stay that way.
My father never became Vice President or held any other political office after his last failed run for the Senate in 1992.
I wasn’t sure how else they’d filled their time…
but Karen had told me that they’d started a nonprofit to help young mothers who found themselves pregnant and without any support. Oh, the irony.
Karen sent me a letter two days ago, along with the paperwork I requested, saying that the entire estate would be given to River Haven, with my permission. I promptly filled out the paperwork, had it notarized, and sent it back the same day.
Laughter pulled me from my thoughts, and I looked across the living room. The warmth of happiness filled my chest as I looked at my children. All healthy and happy.
Lifting my hand, I rubbed the heart locket that I wore around my neck.
It held a picture of my twenty-two-year-old daughter, Hope.
We’d never met, but when she turned eighteen, she’d sent me a letter with the locket and a picture of her in it.
She told me all about her life, that she’d known since she was ten that she was adopted, and who her biological mother and father were.
She’d sent Robert a locket, as well, and she wanted to thank us both for the life that she had.
She’d said her parents loved her fiercely, and she was beyond spoiled.
She was heading to college and, after that, medical school.
Then she ended the letter by saying she would be forever grateful for the loving sacrifice Robert and I had made in order for her to have a better life.
She wanted me to know that she was happy, and that she thought of me often.
She’d signed it, Your daughter, Hope.
Robert had called me, asking if I’d received a locket, as well.
I hadn’t been sure if he’d ever told his wife about Hope, but it turns out he had.
We spoke for about an hour, catching each other up on our lives.
It was a nice phone call, and a part of my heart that I didn’t even know was still cracked open had healed that day.
Ladd came over and reached for my hands. “Our song is playing.”
Nat King Cole’s “A Christmas Song” had started.
Drawing me to him, we slow danced while the kids sat and watched us.
The girls always thought it was so sweet, while Caden and Gatlin pretended to gag, while sitting there with huge smiles on their faces.
I wanted each of my children to find a love like I had.
That was one of my most frequent prayers.
Ladd put his mouth against my ear and whispered, “Want to sneak off to the barn tonight?”
I chuckled and drew back to look into his handsome face.
The years had been good to Ladd. He was still so attractive.
His brown hair had streaks of gray peppered through, and he always wore a five o’clock shadow, not to mention his favorite white cowboy hat he’d had since the moment I’d first laid eyes on him.
He winked. “Wilde is both our last names, don’t forget.”
Feeling my cheeks heat, I buried my face in his chest before he pushed me out, spun me, then dipped me. All the kids started chanting “kiss her.” Ladd slowly brought me back up, and when he smiled, my knees felt weak and my heart fluttered.
“I love you, my wild cowboy.”
He lifted my right hand and slipped a ring onto it. When I looked down, I drew in a sharp breath. A stunning blue diamond sparkled on my finger.
When I looked up in shock, Ladd whispered, “I love you more, Viv.” His eyes twinkled before he added, “And wear those blue cowboy boots you wore at our wedding…just the cowboy boots.”
I laughed as I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him.
This isn’t the End, y’all…it’s the beginning of a new Wilde journey!
Thank you so much for reading Ladd and Vivianne’s story.