Epilogue Cole
THREE YEARS LATER
I’m half a lap behind my screaming, wild-haired two-year-old daughter, and I haven’t felt more alive in my goddamn life.
“Ellie!” I shout as my daughter sprints around the feed bins, her denim overalls already caked in mud.
“Wait up!” My boots thud against the rubber matting as I try to keep up, but the kid’s fast. She dodges between a couple of junior ranch hands, who look up from stacking hay just in time to see the streak of mayhem that is my firstborn.
I catch up just as she hits the open barn aisle. She skids to a stop, spins, and stares at me with the blue eyes she inherited from her mama. “I beat you, Daddy.” She giggles and dances in a circle.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” I manage, grinning like a fool. I lunge, and she shrieks, but instead of fleeing, she launches herself straight at my legs.
I scoop her up against my chest. She cackles, then goes deadweight, playing possum. I tickle her ribs until she explodes in laughter. “What’s all this noise?” My wife waddles out of the barn office, looking like she just swallowed a watermelon whole.
Reine leans in the doorway, one hand braced against the frame, the other cradling her massive belly. Her hair’s a wild brown tangle, her T-shirt says “Warning: Pregnancy hormones onboard. Try me at your own risk,” and her eyes light up at the sight of our little terror barreling toward her.
Ellie plows straight into her mama’s legs, wrapping around them with a death grip. “Mommie!” she squeals. “I beated Daddy.”
“I think you pretty much beat him every day.” Reine grins at me over the top of our daughter’s head, and I swear I fall in love with her all over again.
I watch Reine for a second, struck stupid by how gorgeous she looks, pregnancy hormones and all.
Damn if I’m not the luckiest bastard in the world.
My daughter is still glued to her mama’s legs, giggling like a lunatic.
“I don’t know, Montana,” I tease, propping my hands on my hips. “I think she’s getting faster every day.”
Ellie peeks up at me, cheeks pink and eyes shining. “I fastest!” She pumps both fists in the air like she just won the Kentucky Derby.
“You sure are, sugar.” Reine runs her fingers through Ellie’s wild hair, then shoots me a look that’s equal parts sass and exhaustion.
I pick Ellie up and toss her in the air. She giggles and kicks her little boots as I catch her, "Again, Daddy!"
"Only if you promise not to run circles around me next time," I joke as I set her on my hip. She grins, mud on her cheek and hair stuck to her forehead. I swear, she's pure chaos in a pint-sized package.
I glance at Reine, catching the way her hand rests on her belly. She's got her head tilted, a small smile on her lips. "You okay, Montana?" I ask, my voice softening. If she says the word, I’ll drop everything and carry her straight home.
She groans and pushes her hair off her face.
"Your son has been doing somersaults on my bladder for the last thirty minutes, and I can't decide if I want to punch you or jump your bones,” Reine huffs and shoots me a look so loaded with sass.
Goddamn. Even eight months pregnant and cranky as hell, my wife is the sexiest woman in the universe.
I laugh, letting my eyes run over her curves.
She’s got that glow. All hips and attitude, lips pursed like she’s two seconds from killing me or dragging me into the back office for a quickie on the desk.
“I vote for jump my bones, but I’ll take one for the team if you need to punch me first.” I flash her my best grin and bounce Ellie on my arm.
Ellie giggles and twists in my hold, her little fingers pointing at Reine’s swollen belly. “Baby brudder coming soon!” she crows.
My wife winces and grabs her stomach, where I assume our future linebacker just landed another somersault. If this kid’s anything like his sister, we’re in deep shit.
“Oh, God. I think your son’s doing CrossFit in there again.” She grimaces and does the little pregnant-waddle shuffle.
I lean in and kiss her cheek, then press my palm to her belly. “Hey, Junior, take it easy on your mama.” I’m already convinced this kid is going to be twice the handful of the first one.
I set Ellie down and pull Reine in for a proper kiss, one hand on her hip and the other tracing lazy circles on her back.
“I could make it worth your while to get off your feet for a bit, Montana.” I lower my voice, knowing she’ll get flustered.
“You know. Take a load off. Maybe let me give you a little massage—”
“Cole,” she warns, trying to scowl, but the pink on her cheeks gives her away. “If I get horizontal, I’m not getting up until August.” She glances at our daughter, who’s now poking through my jacket pockets in search of snacks. “I’m just about done for the day.”
“I’ll take the little miss to see Thunderbolt while you finish up.” I scoop Ellie back up and spin her once, just to hear her shriek. If this kid had any more energy, we could hook her up to a generator and power the entire ranch for a week.
“I won’t be long,” my wife calls behind me.
Twenty minutes later, I help my wife into the front seat of her new SUV. “I can’t believe you insist on driving to our house,” she grumbles as I hook Ellie into her carseat. “It’s only a fourth-mile up the road.”
“That’s a fourth-mile too long for you to walk in your condition,” I remind her. Exhaustion is written all over her face, and I’m not about to let her walk anymore than necessary. Fuck. I’d carry her around if she let me.
Reine's hand slides over mine on the gearshift.
"You know what, Texas?" Her voice has that soft Montana lilt that still makes my heart skip.
The evening sun catches on her wedding ring as we round the curve past the old windmill.
Our little white farmhouse comes into view, its porch light already glowing against the dusk.
The rocking chairs I had built last summer sit empty, waiting.
I lift her fingers to my lips, feeling the calluses that match my own. "What's that, Montana?"
"We did pretty good."
"We definitely f—" I catch myself, glancing at Ellie in the rearview mirror, her little head bobbing to some song only she can hear, "—freaking did." I wink at Reine, who raises an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth curling up in that way that still gets me every time.
Life just doesn’t get any better than this.