Epilogue
Blaze
Four Years Later
It's a sad day when a cowboy realizes his own damn horse has betrayed him…but here we are. Jon Bon Pony couldn't give two shits about me. He's all about my pretty little wife and the squealing, wild little girl in her arms.
"Pony!" Jane squeals, flinging her arms around Jon's neck as the bastard preens, stomping like he just won a race.
"You're our favorite horse, Jon," Morgan says, scratching his ears.
"Hee-haw!" Horace screams indignantly, earning peals of laughter from Morgan and Jane.
"You're our favorite too, Horace," Morgan coos at the donkey, turning to scratch his ears.
I shake my head, unable to hide my grin as I watch from a few feet away—close enough to intervene if they need me, but far enough to give them a little space to be their wild, beautiful selves.
I thought God gave me everything when he brought Morgan into my life. I was wrong. He gave it to me twice when Jane came kicking and screaming her way into the world, just as loud and bright as her mama.
One day—far sooner than I like to think about—she's going to be hell on wheels just like Morgan. She's going to turn the world upside down and inside out. I dread that day already. But for now, she's a tiny, perfect replica of her mom.
And I'm so goddamn desperate to add a boy to this family, it's not even funny. I need one, just to help me contain these two. God knows, a ranch full of cowboys isn't enough. Morgan has been turning this place on its head for the last four years. Now, she has Jane to help her do it.
I'm not going to survive the two of them without reinforcements. I'm already going gray.
If the baby in Morgan's belly isn't a boy, I'm fucked.
"Daddy!" Jane shrieks, twisting in her mama's arms to look for me. "I wanna wide Pony."
"You do, huh?" I stride forward, tapping her on the nose. "I think I can make that happen, princess."
"Can Mama wide wif me?"
Morgan and I share a look over her head.
We haven't told her that Morgan is pregnant yet.
We're waiting until she's a little further along to share the news.
Otherwise, the next seven months will be an endless barrage of questions.
I'm not old enough to explain to my three-year-old daughter how her sibling ended up in her mother's belly. I'm just not.
"Not today, baby," Morgan murmurs, rubbing her back. "I'd rather watch you and your daddy ride."
Jane pouts for half a second before she's over it, flinging herself out of Morgan's arms into mine.
I set her on her feet and remind her to stay clear of Jon's legs as I saddle him up.
Morgan pets him the entire time, completely unafraid now.
Wade and Bishop helped with that. Even though she drank their asses under the table that night, they still showed up at dawn not long after I put a ring on her finger, determined to teach her to ride.
And I let them do it because I want her to be fearless, the same way I wanted her free. It's what she deserves. It's what she was made for.
They looked over their shoulders for a while, just waiting for her to call in her favors, but my wife is one of the smartest people I know.
She used them exactly when Wade and Bishop needed her to, pushing them to make bold moves and big choices.
It drives me up the fucking wall how much they idolize my wife now. It really does.
But it's not like I blame them or anything. I idolize her enough for a whole damn army. I always will.
"You ready, princess?" I ask, swinging up into Jon's saddle and reaching for our daughter.
"Yay!" she squeals, throwing her arms up for me to swing her up in front of me.
"Have fun," Morgan calls as I dig my heels gently into his sides.
"Bye, Mama!"
"Be back soon," I murmur to my wife.
She just smiles at me, her eyes shining with the kind of light that tells me that she's never been happier.