Epilogue
WARRICK
Four years ago, I thought I knew what wealth meant.
Now I was standing on the porch of what used to be my bachelor cabin—expanded twice now to make room for the family I’d never planned on having—watching my wife chase our three-year-old son across the yard while our eighteen-month-old daughter shrieked with laughter from her perch on my hip.
Now I understood I hadn’t known a damn thing.
The house sat on the same ridge I’d claimed years ago, the views still stretching for miles in every direction.
I’d originally built the cabin as a sanctuary—a place where nothing could touch me.
Now it had a wraparound porch, two extra bedrooms, a playroom covered in toys, and more life inside its walls than I’d ever imagined possible.
Bear bounded after Peyton and our son, Lionel. The rescue dog’s coat was glossy now, his body filled out from years of good food and love. He was unrecognizable from the terrified, matted creature who’d huddled in the back of that kennel four years ago.
Peyton had spent weeks earning his trust during the rescue operation, and when it came time to place him in a foster home, neither of us could let him go. He’d been ours ever since—the first member of our little family, before the ring, before the wedding, before the kids.
“Daddy, down.” Lakelynn squirmed in my arms, reaching toward the chaos in the yard. “Want Bear.”
“Bear’s busy, sweetheart. He’s helping Mama catch your brother.”
As if on cue, Peyton scooped Lionel up and spun him around, his giggles carrying across the evening air. Bear circled them both, tail wagging so hard his whole body shook. My chest ached just watching them.
This was my life now. Noise and mess and activity—everything I’d spent the first thirty-five years of my life avoiding. And I wouldn’t trade a single second of it.
Peyton caught my eye and grinned, that same smile that had undone me in a parking lot four years ago.
She was even more beautiful now, if that was possible.
Motherhood had softened some of her edges and sharpened others.
She moved through the world with a confidence she hadn’t fully possessed back then, secure in who she was and what she’d built.
She’d finished her degree two years ago, switching her focus after working with the rescue operation and discovering a passion she hadn’t known she had.
Now she was a licensed veterinary technician, working part-time at Dr. Hanson’s permanent clinic.
The rescue operation I’d once threatened to shut down had led me to my wife—and led her to her career.
The irony wasn’t lost on me.
“You’re staring again,” Peyton called out, walking toward the porch with Lionel on her hip.
“Can’t help it. I’m married to the most beautiful woman in Wildwood Valley.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere.” She climbed the steps and leaned in for a kiss, soft and familiar. Lionel immediately reached for his sister, and I helped transfer Lakelynn to Peyton’s other hip so the kids could babble at each other in their private language.
“Dinner should be ready in about a half hour,” I said.
“A half hour?” She glanced at me with a knowing smile, shifting the kids on her hips. “That’s enough time to get these two settled with a movie. Maybe sneak away for a few minutes.”
The look in her eyes told me exactly what kind of sneaking she had in mind, and my body responded predictably. Four years of marriage, two kids, and she could still make me feel like a teenager with a single glance.
“Tempting,” I murmured, pulling her close enough to speak against her ear. “But the last time we tried that, Lionel almost gave your mother a heart attack.”
Peyton laughed, the sound bright and warm. “Fair point. Rain check?”
“Always.”
She headed inside with the kids, and I stayed on the porch for a moment longer, watching the sun sink toward the mountains. The view never got old. Neither did the sense of peace that settled over me every time I stood here, looking out at the life we’d built.
I thought about the man I’d been four years ago—the one who measured everything in terms of risk and return, who kept everyone at arm’s length, who believed that protecting his assets was the same as protecting himself.
That man would have looked at this scene—the wife, the kids, the dog, the house full of noise—and seen nothing but liability.
He would have been so wrong.
The town council had come around eventually.
It helped that Mayor Tessa Pearce had gone to bat for the rescue operation, smoothing feathers and brokering compromises until even the grumpiest council members had to admit the whole thing had been good for Wildwood Valley.
The clinic was thriving now, Dr. Hanson had hired two additional staff members, and the rescue work continued year-round.
I’d become one of its biggest supporters—not just financially, though I’d written plenty of checks, but vocally.
I showed up at council meetings to advocate for animal welfare initiatives.
I donated land for a permanent foster facility.
I used the relationships I’d spent years cultivating to push for policies that actually helped the community instead of just protecting property values.
It had cost me some goodwill with the more conservative council members. A few of my business relationships had cooled. But I’d discovered something important in the process. Wealth meant nothing if you weren’t willing to spend it on things that mattered.
Peyton had taught me that. She’d walked into my life covered in dog hair and righteous fury, and she’d shown me what it looked like to care about something more than yourself. To risk something real for something important.
The screen door creaked behind me. Bear padded out and settled at my feet, his graying muzzle resting on his paws. I reached down and scratched behind his ears.
“Getting old, buddy,” I murmured. “Both of us.”
He huffed contentedly, eyes drifting closed.
From inside, I could hear Peyton singing to the kids while she got them ready for their bath—some silly song about ducks that Lionel loved and Lakelynn tolerated. The melody drifted through the open windows, mixing with the evening birdsong and the distant sound of a truck on the mountain road.
This was what I’d been building toward all along. Not the portfolio or the properties or the carefully maintained reputation. This—the noise, the love, the messy, beautiful chaos of a life shared with people who mattered.
I’d been so afraid of losing control that I’d almost missed it entirely.
Thank God for volunteer coordinators who didn’t take no for an answer.
The sun dipped below the ridgeline, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. I stood there watching until the last light faded, Bear warm against my legs, my family’s voices floating out from the house behind me.
Four years ago, I thought I knew what wealth meant.
Now I understood it had nothing to do with money at all.
Peyton and Warrick sneak some alone time while her mom is watching the kids downstairs in this bonus steamy scene. It’s FREE with newsletter signup.
Peyton’s roommate Josie comes to town to check on her…