Epilogue
WILDER
One year later
Thick snowflakes brushed the ATV’s windshield as it trundled down the icy path. Wilder clutched the pie tin in his lap as Cash guided them around the side of the familiar farmhouse. The front door opened as they got out, and the icy air sucked the breath from his lungs as golden light spilled across the front porch.
“Uncle Wilder, Uncle Cash! Momma, Daddy, they’re here!” Annalise launched herself out into the snow to greet them, wearing a red and green sweater with little white horses on it.
“Careful, wild thing, you’ll make me drop the pie,” Wilder said, catching her against his side and holding the pie up and out of the way with his other hand. “How are the boys? Eating you out of house and home?”
“Yes!” she declared seriously, brushing snowflakes off her face as she peered up at him. “Little Wilder likes sweet potatoes the best, and Bobby loves peaches. Momma keeps running out of the peach puree because he eats so much.”
Wilder guided her around the ATV to join Cash, and together the three of them trailed up the perilously slick porch steps and into the house, where two towels were laid down around the welcome mat to help contain the worst of the mess tracked in. They all kicked their shoes off and left them on the towels to dry, but Wilder spotted some telltale paw prints on the otherwise clean wood floor as they followed Annalise into the kitchen.
“Hello? Any grownups in this house?” Cash called.
“Yes, in here!” Mary-Beth said from the kitchen. She was sitting at the table, turned sideways to feed the boys. She gave them a wave with a baby spoon
Just over a year old now, the twins were growing like weeds. With sandy blond hair like their Momma and their Daddy’s ocean blue eyes, they looked most like Annalise. Wilder liked to joke that the parents weren’t really that involved at all, and the hospital had just copied and reprinted Annalise two more times with the ‘boy’ setting turned on.
“Merry Christmas,” Wilder said, setting the pie by the stove and swooping down to kiss the top of Mary-Beth’s head. Leaning over her, he studied the boys intently for a moment, looking from one to the other. Finally, he pointed at the boy on the left and said, “Mini-me.”
Mary-Beth shook her head.
“Goddammit.” It was so hard to tell them apart at this age. He wheeled away—and came face to face with Lain, who was holding out a large glass jar with an arched brow. There was an opening cut into the center of the jar lid, and it was half full of coins and single dollar bills. ‘WILDER’S SWEAR JAR’ was written in permanent marker on a slip of paper taped to the side.
With a sigh, he took out a dollar and put it into the jar.
Lain grinned, returned the jar to the shelf by the door, and then pulled Wilder in for a hug.
“Merry Christmas, potty mouth,” Lain said warmly.
“I think I should get a pass on holidays,” Wilder replied, patting him on the back.
“Heck no, are you kidding? That swear jar bought your Christmas gift this year,” Lain said with a devilish smile.
Wilder gaped. “What? You bought my Christmas present with the money I put into that jar?”
“There was a hundred and seventy-seven dollars in that jar from this past year, Wilder, and we didn’t even start the collection until March.”
Well, that didn’t sound right at all. “I… I don’t cuss that much.”
Leaning in the doorway, Cash laughed loudly. “Wilder, if we had a swear jar at home, your whole paycheck would just be going into that each week.”
Mary-Beth snorted indelicately.
Wilder opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. It was true he cussed more when Annalise wasn’t around—maybe that was part of the problem. He’d turned it into too much of a habit, and then they slipped out when he didn’t mean for them to. He was lucky Annalise wasn’t the type to repeat what she heard. She just thought it was funny when he said them.
“Okay, fine, I have a potty mouth .” He shot Lain a teasing look as he repeated the kiddie phrase. “Keep teasing me and nobody gets pie.”
Mary-Beth half-turned to give him an eager look. “Chess?”
“Chess pie, yes ma’am. Just like the recipe you gave me.”
“I love that pie. Thanks for bringing it. Wasn’t it an easy recipe?”
When he’d made overtures about wanting to learn to cook, even in the camper’s modest kitchen, Mary-Beth gave him some simple recipes to try out and her old crockpot to use. Apparently a lot of things could just be tossed in the crockpot and left alone for a few hours, which was very useful when he needed to get some work done outside. The camper’s oven was small but functional, and the pie was one of the few desserts he’d recently learned to make.
“It was, yeah. I can’t wait until the house is finished and we have full-sized appliances again.”
“How’s it coming along?” Lain asked, then gestured to the babies. “Are they done eating, hon?”
Mary-Beth nodded. “Yeah. Why don’t you guys take them to the living room? The turkey’s almost done, and then we can eat.”
“The house is coming along well,” Wilder said as he unhooked baby Wilder from the high-chair and wiped the sweet potato from his mouth with a damp towel. “You’ve got to learn to get more of this in your mouth and not on your face, little man. Anyway, they’re getting the drywall up later this week, and then the fun inside stuff starts.”
He’d never gotten to design a house before. He and Cash spent hours sitting at the tiny table in the camper, poring over blueprints, siding colors, front porch options, window treatments, fireplaces, flooring, wall colors, kitchen and bathroom cabinets and countertops. It was so much more involved than he would have guessed, but he’d loved every minute. He couldn’t wait to see how it all came together.
Lain transferred Bobby to Cash and said, “I’m gonna help Mary-Beth get the food ready. Tell Annalise to get away from the tree.”
Cash snorted, and Wilder shot Lain a nonplussed look as they passed. But it became clear when they reached the living room, where Annalise was sitting cross-legged by the presents piled under the Christmas tree in the corner, holding one brightly wrapped package up to her ear and shaking it.
“Lain says get away from the tree, wild thing,” Wilder said.
She put the present down with an exasperated huff. “ Fine . That’s a board game, anyway.”
Wilder tilted his head. “H-How do you know that? It might not be.”
“I can just tell.” She shrugged.
Cash sat down on the sofa with Bobby, who stuck his thumb in his mouth and settled his head against Cash’s shoulder, sated and relaxed as only a baby could be. Little Wilder, on the other hand, started squirming the minute Wilder sat down with him, so he gently set the baby on the floor only to sigh wearily when the boy grabbed onto the coffee table and pulled himself to his feet.
Cash ducked his head to speak to Bobby. “Are you doing that now, too, kiddo? You’re going to drive your parents crazy, both of you running around at the same time.”
“Drive us crazy, too,” Wilder pointed out, scooting to the edge of the cushion so baby Wilder could take his hand for balance while he toddled back and forth, pushing sippy cups and toys off the coffee table with gleeful laughter.
Cash and Wilder babysat once a week for Lain and Mary-Beth, giving them the opportunity to go out for dinner or run errands together or, on a few notable occasions, to go in the bedroom for a long nap.
By the time Lain called that the food was ready, Wilder was on his feet, holding little Wilder’s hands and letting him walk all around the room. He’d never seen a child so delighted with the simple concept of movement. Every few steps, he’d let out a peal of laughter that sent a shot of warmth straight to his heart.
Mary-Beth insisted on putting the boys in a playpen while the adults ate, despite Wilder’s offer to eat in shifts so the boys could be out and about.
“It’s good for them,” Mary-Beth insisted, prying little Wilder from his arms and setting him in the mesh-walled playpen with his brother. There were plenty of toys in there to occupy them, and the adults would be within sight.
“Sorry, boys,” Wilder said. “Don’t worry, we’ll spring you from the slammer as soon as we can.”
Mary-Beth snorted out a laugh and gave him a playful shove. “It’s not prison!”
“Put a toilet in there and it could be,” he quipped.
She pushed him, still laughing, into the kitchen, where Lain was cutting the turkey.
They ate in the living room, fielding Annalise’s pleas to start opening presents. Lain, sitting by the playpen, kept fetching the toys the twins threw out and returning them, which became a hilarious game to both little Wilder and Bobby, their laughter falling in-sync in a way that was funny until Wilder realized he and Lain were doing the same thing.
Some things never changed.
When his stomach was full, Wilder leaned into Cash’s side while Annalise passed out the presents, flitting from person to person with brightly colored packages. Wilder and Cash had quietly added their own presents beneath the tree throughout the month of December, and they gradually joined the piles around the living room.
The kids went first. Lain and Mary-Beth helped the boys rip theirs open, and Annalise practically vibrated with excitement while waiting for her turn. She was right about the board game, which she made Cash and Wilder promise to play with her later. Wilder had gotten her her very first cattle rope, and he and Cash had made a wooden calf she could set up in one of the training pens and practice roping.
Wilder and Cash’s presents all followed a housewarming theme, since the house should be done by spring. Mary-Beth got them a set of cookware, and Annalise and the boys gave them some framed artwork to hang on the walls. But the best gift, the one Wilder never could have guessed in a million years, came in a large gift bag with all of their names on the tag.
Cash slid it between them and remarked, “Kind of heavy.”
“Yeah,” Lain said, glancing conspiratorially at Mary-Beth. “That one is a little different. We all worked on it.”
Cash lifted the tissue paper away, and Wilder reached in first, realizing it was packed full with something long and flat. He drew the first one out and gasped out a little, “Oh.”
They were photo frames. This one was of him and Cash, standing together on the site of their new home, their arms thrown around each other and grinning broadly. Lain had taken it when they’d gone out to the plot to verify it was what they wanted. In the photo, Cash’s hat was askew, and Wilder’s cheeks were flushed.
Cash took out the next one, chuckling at what he saw. Someone had snuck up behind him and Annalise, standing at the fence together and petting Blaze. She was standing on the bottom rung, and he had an arm around her.
Photo after photo filled the bag. A photo of Cash on Hexie. Another of Wilder on Blaze. One of each of them holding one of the boys. A photo of Cash with a wet spot on his chest, mock-glaring at Wilder and Annalise laughing by the front porch with a laundry basket full of water balloons back during summer. A photo of Lain and Wilder laughing together, Lain’s hand on Wilder’s shoulder as they doubled over. He didn’t even remember what they were laughing about. A photo of Wilder and Mary-Beth in the kitchen together.
But Wilder’s favorite was one he hadn’t known they were taking. Framed by the night, their faces highlighted by the fire pit, Wilder and Cash looked like they were either in the middle of a deep conversation or about to kiss—it was hard to say, since he had no idea when the picture was taken. Cash had an arm around his shoulders, and Wilder’s legs were thrown across Cash’s lap, his straw hat resting on one knee. They both looked so relaxed, so sure of their places in the world, Wilder wondered why he ever worried Lain wouldn’t accept them.
It had taken months of photographing to capture all these images. For the last year, Lain and Mary-Beth had taken pains to take snapshots of their lives together. To show him, in still images, how loved he was. How much he belonged.
“These are wonderful,” Cash said softly. “I had no idea you took some of these.”
“We’re sneaky,” Mary-Beth replied with a pleased smile. “And phones take really good pictures these days.”
His heart was too big for his chest. Cash took the frames from him before he moved, anticipating that Wilder would want to get up before he did it, and Lain met him halfway, pulling him into a strong hug and chuckling warmly in his ear.
“Thank you,” he said. It was muffled by Lain’s shoulder.
“You’re my brother, and I love you—even if I was pretty crappy at showing it there for a while. You can hang those up in your brand new house as a reminder of exactly where you belong. Right here, with us.”
Wilder groaned dramatically, because if he didn’t make a joke he was in danger of crying. Smacking a big kiss to Lain’s cheek, he said, “Don’t make me cry on Christmas, asshole.”
“Dollar in the jaaar!” Annalise crowed.
Wilder hugged Mary-Beth—and then deviated to the kitchen to add another dollar to the swear jar. It was the least he could do.
It was snowing again when they made it back home. Cash parked the ATV in the barn and went to check on the horses while Wilder carried the gifts and leftovers into the camper. He left the gifts on the table while he put the food away, and by the time he was done, Cash was there, stomping inside and shaking snow from his Carhartt jacket.
“Take those boots off on the steps, would you?” Wilder said. “I don’t want the floor to get muddy.”
“I know, I know,” Cash said, shooting him a grin as he toed off his boots and left them on the steps. The rule for the camper was that the steps could be dirty, but the shoes came off there so they didn’t track anything into the rest of their temporary home. He hung his coat up by the door.
“How’s the barn holding up?”
“Oh, it’s fantastic. Hexie and Blaze were chowing down on the hay when I went to check on them. Not a leak in sight.”
“Good, that’s one less thing to worry about.” He hadn’t really thought the barn would spring a leak, but given that they’d built it themselves and he wasn’t exactly a carpenter, he’d harbored some concerns over the roofing in particular. Walls were basic. Shingles were more complicated.
“Yep. They were nice and toasty.” Cash’s warm arms curled around him, and he pressed a kiss to the side of Wilder’s neck. Melting snow clung to the short beard he’d grown over the winter, and Wilder wondered if he could talk him into keeping it through the spring. He liked the rasp of it against his skin.
He leaned into Cash’s embrace. “Good. Now I don’t have to worry about them while we take care of the next order of business.”
“Oh? And what’s that?”
“Well, see, I need you to make this camper rock nice and hard. It just won’t be Christmas without it.”
Cash grinned. “Oh, is that so?”
“Mm-hm. Kiss me. Show me how much you want me.” He could never get enough of Cash’s mouth on his. He turned in Cash’s arms, their tongues tangling. Cash’s fingers, chilled from the snow and wind, slid under his shirt and teased at the waistband of his jeans.
“I think you should warm me up,” Cash said.
“That right?”
“Mm-hm.” Cash kissed a line across his jaw to suck a mark under his ear, and Wilder tugged him toward the bed at the back of the camper.
Their clothes fell piece by piece, and by the time Cash pushed Wilder down onto the bed, they were both completely naked. Cash’s strong body blanketed his own, surrounded by warm bedding that smelled like them. Wilder didn’t hesitate to wrap his legs around Cash’s waist.
They’d done this often, each time as overwhelming as the first. There was no one he trusted more with his body and his heart. Cash was careful and patient as he opened Wilder up with his fingers and mouth, letting Wilder’s uninhibited moans guide him exactly how Wilder needed him. When he was riding the edge of his orgasm, Cash pulled away, slicking himself up and sinking inside.
Being joined with Cash was a pleasure that always shocked him. It was such a visceral feeling to have a part of Cash inside him like this. Each time was different. Each time felt like new. Like now, when Cash changed their position so that he was lying behind Wilder, the angle becoming a grind rather than a thrust, and all Wilder had to do was lay there and feel . Cash was so perfect in every way, he had to pinch himself multiple times a day to remind himself this was real. They were together for good, and nothing would tear them apart.
He twisted his upper body to steal Cash’s mouth, taking himself in hand as he neared the end.
“I’m so close, I’m so close,” he murmured between their damp lips.
“Me, too, baby.”
Cash’s arm hooked under his knee to open him up wider as he rocked into him, hitting that bundle of nerves just right. His cock was leaking over his hand, and he threw his head back as he came, his spine arching.
Cash moaned as he followed him over the edge, mouthing at his shoulder. “God, I love you.”
Wilder shivered. He’d never tire of hearing that. “I love you, too.” So much that the words themselves didn’t feel strong enough to convey how he felt.
At one time, he might have said he would do horrible things for Cash, like bleed for him or kill for him. And it was true, he would do those things if needed. But Cash made him want to be better . He wanted to be a good man for Cash. He wanted to provide a home for him, a sanctuary that was all theirs.
Which was exactly why they were planning to open the Wild Ones equine sanctuary on their land. Wilder wanted to show the world he was worthy of a man like Cash, that he could build something real and good. Like him, like Blaze, there were wild hearts out there who just needed a little gentle loving in order to find their place in the world. Here, they would provide that. Horses who could be rehabilitated would be adopted out to loving owners who could meet their needs. Any who couldn’t be adopted would stay here with them.
Felons with sordid pasts weren’t the only ones who needed a safe place to land and find themselves. Sometimes horses needed that, too.
Cash kissed the back of his head, bringing him back to the present. “What are you thinking about?”
“I’m thinking…” He huffed out a laugh. “I’m thinking about how happy I am. How lucky. That you were here when I needed you, and now I have everything I could possibly want. It all fell right into my lap. I can barely believe it’s all real sometimes. Not just you and me but the sanctuary, too. I can’t wait until we can start bringing new horses in.”
“Me, too,” Cash agreed, hugging him tighter. “I always wanted a place like this of my own. We’ll finish our dream house and put up the fences this summer, maybe add a second barn and some little shelters to make sure the horses have plenty of places to go. And depending on how much work we do, we could start bringing in some horses in the Fall.”
Wilder could imagine it as clear as day, sitting on the front porch of their house and watching the sun rise over the Montana hills, sipping coffee and listening to the rumble of galloping hooves in the distance. It was going to be a dream come true.
“I can’t wait,” he said.
Cash pressed his smile into the curve of Wilder’s neck. “You don’t have to wait, baby. We’re already getting started.”
“Can we look at the plans for the fence lines again?” Wilder asked.
“Sure.”
And that was what they did, snuggled together in the bed with the laptop open in front of them, they looked at the carefully drawn plans for their future and nurtured the hope in their hearts. Tomorrow would come in time, but while they waited, today was worth savoring.