Chapter 23 Juliana
JULIANA
“That’s exactly the problem?” Gideon’s voice cut through the crisp air, pulling her focus from the jagged red cliffs ahead.
Her mare sidestepped a patch of ice, and she tightened her grip on the reins like she could hold onto something steady to counterbalance the mess of her thoughts.
“Explain how us both having feelings for each other is a problem before I lose my mind trying to figure it out.”
If only he knew she’d already been on the brink of losing hers.
She kept her eyes trained on the winding trail, because looking at him would’ve been her undoing.
“Because wanting you means staying,” she said, each word tasting like confession.
“And staying means risking that this . . . us . . . could fall apart. I’ve done that before.
I don’t bounce back from it like you do. ”
He exhaled, slow and heavy, as if her words had weight. “You think I would bounce back? You think I’m just—what? Some guy who shrugs it off and moves on to the next pretty face?”
That stung. Not because she thought it was true, but because part of her feared it was. Her lips pressed into a line. “I think you’re built for change. I’m not.”
His answer came rougher, firmer. “No. I’m built for you. I didn’t ask God for a challenge, or someone to make me rearrange every piece of my life . . . but He handed me you anyway. And I’m done pretending I don’t want every single day I can get with you.”
The creak of leather echoed between them as her hands tightened on the reins. Her pulse thudded in her ears. “You don’t know what you’re signing up for.”
“I know exactly what I’m signing up for.
” He eased his gelding closer, stopping just ahead of her so hers would follow.
“A woman who drives me crazy with her lists, who sees the world in details I’d never notice, who makes me want to be better than I am.
I’m signing up for a life with the woman I halfway fell in love with on a pineapple truck. ”
And just like that, her heart—already unsteady from the day—did a freefall.
A few days ago, she’d been clutching annulment papers on a bench in town, telling herself she’d been right about him all along. That the distance she’d been keeping these past days was smart, self-preserving. And now? Now, he was dismantling all her defenses in one impossible, earnest breath.
His hand reached across and closed over hers, tugging her fingers from the reins. The warmth of his skin bled through her gloves, grounding her and shattering her all at once.
Her pulse was still uneven when Gideon’s thumb brushed over her knuckles before he let her go and guided his gelding off the trail.
“Come on,” he called over his shoulder.
She hesitated. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
Curiosity won out over caution, and she nudged her mare after him.
They wove between stands of juniper and pinyon pine until the red rock opened into a wide, sunlit clearing.
The ground rolled gently toward a ridge that dropped into the valley, the peaks beyond capped in white.
It looked like the kind of place people put on postcards—and the kind of view she could lose herself in if she wasn’t careful.
Gideon swung down from his horse in one smooth motion, then came to her side and held out his hands. “Come on, Jules.”
Her mare shifted under her, but she took his hands and let him help her down. The solidness of him was a jolt of warmth against the crisp air.
He didn’t let go right away. “You know me. I’m not a planner. Most of my life has been saying yes to whatever’s next.”
She smirked faintly. “You don’t say.”
“But,” he went on, eyes searching hers, “there are a few things about the future I’ve thought about.
One of them’s right here.” He gestured toward the open sweep of land, the mountains framing it like a painting.
“I’m building a house here. Big porch, big garden.
Enough space to breathe but close enough to the ranch to feel connected.
Just over that hill is Zeke and Kaitlyn’s place.
And through those trees? Jason and Cassie. ”
Her chest tightened. In the two months she’d been here, she’d never heard Gideon mention anything he’d thought about doing more than a day or two in advance.
What he was mentioning here was a real plan.
A vision for his future. Gideon might not know what he wanted for dinner tonight or where he would go on his next vacation, but now she realized that he had always had a better idea of what he wanted his life to look like than she did.
He might follow his whims and say yes on short notice, but he’d always had a stronger foundation to come back to.
He didn’t need such ironclad control over the small things like she did. And maybe if she really trusted the Lord, she didn’t either. She had a foundation that wouldn’t be shaken in Christ—she just had to believe it.
“It’s not a mansion in Beverly Hills,” his voice softened, but the intent in it landed like a weight in her ribs. “But it’s home. And I want to share it with someone who makes all the wide-open space mean something.”
The breeze caught at her scarf, and she couldn’t tell if the prickle in her eyes was from the cold or the words she wasn’t ready for. She’d been so set on leaving, on protecting herself from the exact kind of hope he was holding out right now.
And yet . . . she’d imagined it. She’d imagined mornings in a place like this, coffee mugs in hand while the sun came up over those ridges.
She’d imagined laughter echoing off the porch rail, and the way her suitcase could finally be shoved into the back of a closet and forgotten because she wouldn’t need it anymore. She’d imagined . . . him.
The thought of losing that felt like stepping too close to the edge of the ridge, heart pounding with the drop beneath. And still, her feet refused to step back.
She moved closer, not trusting herself to speak, her boots crunching in the frosted grass until she was right in front of him. His breath clouded in the cold between them, mingling with hers.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, the words rushing out on the fog of her exhale.
“For assuming the worst and for not just asking you about the papers. For almost leaving without even saying goodbye.” Her throat tightened, but she pushed through it.
“And for trying so hard not to fall for you when it’s been happening since the moment we met. ”
When his hands slid to her waist, she let them. His thumbs brushed along her ribs, slow and warm through the hoodie. “Jules . . .” The way he said her name made her knees feel unsteady.
“I’ve been clinging to control for so long, I’m afraid I don’t know how to let it go. I want to trust God. I want to trust you.”
He lowered his head, and she rose onto her toes to meet him. And when his mouth met hers, it was warm, certain, and everything she’d been fighting. So she stopped fighting altogether.
The kiss wasn’t some cinematic swell of music.
It was better. It was the quiet, steady promise she’d been craving for years without realizing it.
It was the grounding weight of his palm at her back, the faint scratch of his jaw against her cheek, the way he kissed her like this wasn’t about winning her over but about keeping her.
And for the first time since she’d stepped foot in Redemption Ridge, Juliana wasn’t thinking about what came next. She wasn’t bracing for the fall. She was right here, with him, and she didn’t want to be anywhere else.
When they finally broke apart, Juliana’s breath trembled in the cold air. She kept her forehead against his, eyes closed, because if she looked at him too long, she might drown in what she saw there.
“I love you,” she whispered, the words catching on her breath as if they’d been waiting years to break free.
“I tried not to, Gideon. I told myself it was impossible, that it was reckless. But somewhere between that ridiculous pineapple truck and gliding through the air and every moment you’ve pushed me out of my comfort zone .
. . I stopped fighting it. I love you, and it terrifies me. ”
His hands tightened at her waist, and when she finally forced herself to lift her gaze, she found his eyes bright with something raw and unguarded.
“Good,” he said, voice low and rough. “Because I’ve been gone for you since the day I saw you across the wedding grove, looking like you’d rather wrestle a hurricane than let anyone see you cry.
I think I knew then that you were it. And every day since has just proved I was right. ”
Her chest ached, still raw from letting go of something so heavy. “But what if I’m not enough? What if I can’t be the woman you need? What if I suck the fun out of everything and you resent me?
“You won’t,” he said without hesitation. “You’re more than enough, Jules. You make me want to be the man God’s been trying to shape me into all along. And I don’t care if you need time to figure this out, or if we take a thousand wrong turns, just don’t walk away from me. Don’t walk away from us.”
Her tears spilled hot against the cold of her cheeks, and she let out a shaky laugh. “I don’t want to walk away. I just . . . don’t know how to stop bracing for when everything falls apart.”
He brushed the tears away with the rough pads of his thumbs, steady and sure. “Then let me hold you up when you can’t stand. Let me be the one you lean on instead of the one you lose. Because I love you, Juliana. I’m not going anywhere. I love you, too.”
The words settled over her like a shelter, strong enough to withstand every storm she’d been afraid of. And as his mouth found hers again, deeper this time, she knew—finally, fully—that she was done running.
She wasn’t going to miss this moment because she was tied up in knots about what came next. She didn’t know what came tomorrow. But she knew she could trust God to be her foundation, and she knew that Gideon would be there alongside her. And today, that was enough.