Epilogue
One Year Later
I check the small velvet box in my pocket for the tenth time as I spread the picnic blanket across the grass. The viewpoint Aaron recommended is perfect—sweeping vistas of Cedar Falls below, mountains in the distance, and a sunset that promises to be spectacular in about an hour.
"This is beautiful," Luisa says, setting down the wicker basket we packed together this morning. Her hair, longer now than when she first arrived on our ranch, catches the late afternoon sunlight. "How did you find this place?"
"Aaron brought Elena here on their first date," I admit, observing her reaction. "He says it’s the most romantic spot in the county."
Her eyes widen slightly, but she says nothing, busying herself with unpacking the food we prepared. I hide my smile. After a year together, I can read her expressions like a book—she suspects something, but she's trying not to get ahead of herself.
It's been a year of firsts and healing. Luisa found a job teaching kindergarten at Cedar Falls Elementary, where Miguel started pre-K this fall. They moved from the guest cottage into the main house with me six months ago, after Jackson and Sarah moved to her place at the therapy ranch.
Ricardo never came looking. Whether he decided Luisa wasn't worth the trouble or whether he found a new target for his control, we'll never know.
I keep that promise anyway—all five Covington brothers on alert, protective of the woman who brought light back into my life and the boy who now calls me "Cole-Dad" (a compromise we reached when "Uncle Cole" no longer felt right but "Dad" seemed too soon).
"Wine?" Luisa offers, holding up the bottle we brought.
The simple cotton dress she's wearing today hugs her curves in all the right places, making it hard to concentrate on anything else.
"Sure," I nod, accepting the plastic cup she pours.
My hand is steady despite the nervous energy building inside me. I've faced two-thousand-pound bulls with less anxiety than I feel about the next hour.
We eat and talk about ordinary things—Miguel's latest art project (a family portrait featuring all the Covingtons plus every horse on the ranch), Vincent and Charlotte's wedding plans, my upcoming competition in Springfield next month. Domestic, comfortable conversation that would have seemed impossible when Luisa first appeared on our land in that torn wedding dress.
As the sun begins its descent toward the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant oranges and pinks, I know it's time.
"Remember when you first came to the ranch?" I ask, taking her hand in mine.
She smiles, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "You mean when I showed up looking like a disaster and you made Mickey Mouse pancakes for my son?"
"I thought you were the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen," I tell her honestly. "Even with mascara smudged down your face and that dress in tatters."
"Charmer," she laughs, but her cheeks flush with pleasure.
"I'm serious," I continue, "That day changed everything for me. For a month before you arrived, I'd been miserable, stuck at home with this ankle, feeling useless." I squeeze her hand gently. "And then there you were—this fierce, protective mama bear ready to take on the world to keep your son safe."
Her expression softens. "You gave us a home when we had nowhere else to go."
"You gave me purpose," I counter. "A reason to slow down, to build something that matters more than eight seconds on a bull."
The look in her eyes tells me she understands exactly what I'm saying. Luisa has always seen through my bravado to the man beneath.
"This past year," I continue, my voice growing husky with emotion, "watching you build a new life, seeing how Miguel thrives here, being part of that..." I pause, gathering my courage. "It's everything I never knew I wanted. Or needed."
I shift to one knee, and Luisa's eyes widen, her free hand flying to her mouth.
"Cole..."
I pull the small velvet box from my pocket and open it, revealing the ring I chose with Sarah's help—a simple diamond surrounded by smaller sapphires, set in white gold.
"Luisa, I love you more than I thought it was possible to love another person. I love your strength, your kindness, your laugh." My voice is stuttering. "I love the family we're building together. Will you marry me?"
Tears spring to her eyes, but they're nothing like the tears of that first day—these shine with joy, not fear.
"Yes," she whispers, then louder, "Yes!"
My hands shake slightly as I slide the ring onto her finger. It fits perfectly, catching the last golden rays of sunlight.
"It's beautiful," she says, examining it before looking back at me with that smile that still makes my heart skip. "But are you sure? Taking on a ready-made family isn't what most men dream of."
I pull her into my arms, kissing her deeply before responding. "It's exactly what I dream of. You and Miguel are everything I want."
She kisses me again, her body melting against mine in a way that still feels like coming home.
"We should head back soon," she murmurs against my lips. "Charlotte only agreed to watch Miguel until seven."
I smile, remembering how nervous Luisa was the first time she left Miguel with anyone other than me. Now, he's beloved by every Covington and honorary Covington on the ranch.
"Five more minutes," I negotiate, pulling her closer. "I just proposed. I get to enjoy this moment with my fiancée."
The word makes her smile widen. "Fiancée. I like the sound of that."
As the sun sets over Cedar Falls, painting the world in warm golden light, I hold the woman who walked out of the woods and straight into my heart. Against all odds, through fear and uncertainty, we found each other.
Sometimes, I think, what looks like the end of the road is just the beginning of a better path. All you need is the courage to take that first step—or in our case, to make Mickey Mouse pancakes for a runaway bride and her son.
Thank you for reading it!