Epilogue
Grayson
“Foot in the stirrup, just like we practiced, baby.”
With her left hand on the saddle horn, Holly places her left foot in the stirrup. I hold my breath, expecting her to jump once and swing her leg across Maple’s back, but she freezes and her head comes to rest alongside Maple’s neck. “Ahhh … I don’t think I can do it.”
We’ve spent most of the winter and early spring getting Holly used to being around horses.
She’s become close enough with Maple that Maple can sense Holly’s approach.
She runs to the gate and awaits her daily sugar cube and stands perfectly still while Holly brushes her coat.
Except for the occasional turn to nuzzle her, that is.
We’ve practiced climbing into the saddle when Maple is tied up in the barn, and Holly was a natural at it.
She’d ride in the saddle while I walked Maple around the farm, and then I’d let go of the reins and Maple would continue at my pace with Holly on her back.
She’s graduated to walking Maple in circles around the driveway, which is why I feel myself chuckling right now, watching her panic at the thought of doing something she’s done a hundred times before.
“We’ve been over this, baby, you’ve done this.
It’s no different now than when we’re in the barn. ”
Holly scoffs. “It’s different because once I climb on, she will start walking, and then she might run, and then what happens? What if we’re on a hill, away from the farm?”
I shrug. “Then we will be on a hill, away from the farm. I’ll be right by your side, and if for some reason she runs, which she won’t, just hold on for the ride.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “You make it sound so easy.”
“It might just be that easy, sweetheart.”
She looks once more at Maple, tucking her bottom lip in between her teeth. “Why can’t we take the side-by-side out there again?”
I chuckle at that, climbing off my horse and quickly looping his reins through one of the wooden posts outside the barn.
Holly’s lips purse in an attempt to hide her smile as I stalk over to her, and when I’m within arm’s reach, she lays her head against Maple, her blonde hair spilling over her shoulder. “I’m nervous.”
“I know you are, baby, but that’s okay. Maple won’t hurt you.”
“And I won’t hurt her?”
“She’s used to carrying around my fat ass, so no, sweetheart, you won’t hurt her.”
Holly exhales roughly, looking up and through the back of the barn, out the doors that have been propped open to let in the summer breeze.
Through the back doors, there’s a clear view of the bluff she pointed out one morning months ago while we sipped coffee on my back deck. She asked if that was part of our property, and I promised her some day we’d take the horses out there so she could see it.
It’s a few hours ride by horse, and the path is so old and ragged, I don’t think the side-by-side would make it through.
“I really want to see it.”
“And I really want to see you up there, sweetheart.”
I want to see Holly cross off the last of her goals. This year has been a year of change for her, for both of us really, and a year of growth.
After the night at the gala, Holly really did quit her job at the hospital.
We went back to her place and she packed a bag with the intention of an extended stay in Copper Ridge with me.
Her first week turned into a second, and then a third.
By week four, we both agreed that she should just move in with me, so we made the trip to the city to pack up the rest of her belongings and she handed in her apartment keys.
We drove over to Doc Williams’s house and Holly offered to buy the clinic from him. The look of relief on his face had both of us swiping at our eyes, and after three months of heavy remodels, she was able to host a grand re-opening at the start of the new year.
Slowly but surely, word got around that Holly was a hell of a doctor, and she’s been working her ass off to see patients, some that hadn’t been to the doctor in years. She convinced Piper to come work for her, and even Harper fills in for the office when they need some extra help.
She’s even found time to spend with Lukas, and little by little, I’m starting to see my baby brother come back to life. He’s almost eleven months sober, with a beautiful baby girl, Ivy, that was born with the trademark Hart family eyes.
I want to take Holly to the bluff more than anything, because when we’re up there, I’ll be able to show her the area of the farm that’s been sitting unused for decades.
I want to lay out my ideas, the ones my dad actually agreed to, and tell her how over the next few years, we’re going to build fences surrounding the land that’s near the river, so we can expand the amount of cattle we have.
We hired Theo’s friend, Dean, from the fire department this year, and we’re looking at having another part-time support during the haying season.
Having them around means I haven’t had to work late into the night or weekends, and I could spend my time with Holly.
And now, my great-grandma’s wedding ring is burning a hole in my pocket, and I want nothing more than to see it on Holly’s finger.
It isn’t anything like the engagement ring she had on the day we first met, but it’s a ring that holds meaning in my family.
The center stone had fallen out years ago, so I had it replaced with a similar one, one that matches the smaller diamonds that adorn each side.
After I bring Holly to the bluff, and she gets to see the view she’s been asking about for nearly a year, I’ll drop to one knee and beg her to spend the rest of her life with me. If all goes as planned, she’ll make the trek back down as the future Mrs. Grayson Hart.
“Whatcha thinking about over there, big guy?”
I twist my head back to face her, and she’s resting her cheek against Maple with her hand still on the saddle horn. “Thinking about how much I love you.”
“Seems like you’re always thinking that,” she says, a teasing glint to her eye.
I move a step toward her, and another, and let my hands fall to her hips.
“Busted.” I drop a slow kiss to her lips, and when she whimpers, rising on her toes to deepen the kiss, I tighten my grip on her hips and lift.
She squeals, hands flying out to grip my biceps as I lift her up and sling her leg over the saddle.
She lands on the saddle with a slight oof, and then she freezes, hands locked on the reins waiting to see if Maple freaks.
But my other girl simply twists her head, waiting to see what the next move is, and when Holly realizes that she can handle it, she laughs, her head falling back and face tilted to the early summer sky.
She reaches down, stealing the cowboy hat off my head and places it on her own. With a soft click of her tongue, Maple starts walking, and Holly’s body slowly begins to relax. Her hips move fluidly in the saddle, like she’s been doing this her entire life.
I watch in admiration as she takes a few solo laps around the yard, one hand holding my hat in place while the other leads Maple with a tug on the reins.
If you would’ve told me a year ago that on one of my more frustrating days, in one of the harder seasons of my life, I’d be lost on the city streets of Des Moines in the dead of winter and crash into the love of my life, I wouldn’t have believed you.
But just like the seeds we plant every spring, they only thrive once they’ve cracked under the pressure of the dirt.
With their shell splintered and broken, they fight for their way toward the light to be born again, this time a little stronger.
Right in front of our eyes they transform into something better, more beautiful, and as I watch Holly turn Maple so they can head back to me, I’m thankful for that damage, for the initial fall that led her to breaking.
Because the version that’s on her way to me is the version she was always meant to be.