Epilogue
Beck
The fall sale is winding down when I find her at the creek.
Ashby and Velasquez ran it. Prue handled the logistics while Scarlett worked the floor, and Cooper Land and Cattle was just another client. Prue billed me for the service and I paid on time, like any other customer.
It feels right. Different, but right.
Josie spent the day on my hip, pointing at horses and yelling “Mama horsey!” every time one sold. She’s with Lucy now, probably covered in cotton candy and demanding more.
I walk down to the water, following the path I’ve worn over the past year. Scarlett is sitting on the bank, her boots off, her feet in the creek despite the November chill.
She looks up when she hears me coming. The smile that crosses her face makes my chest ache the same way it did the first time I saw her, in a barn full of horses, her hair wild and her hands covered in dirt.
“Took you long enough,” she says.
“Got held up. Ray Austin wanted to argue about next year’s breeding schedule.”
“Did he win?”
“Nobody wins against Ray.” I sit down next to her, pull off my boots. The water is cold, bracing. “How’d we do?”
“Better than last year. Prue’s already talking about expanding.”
“Good.” I lean back on my hands, looking at the sky. “You happy?”
“With the sale?”
“With everything.”
She’s quiet for a moment. The creek murmurs past us, the same water that’s been running through this land for a hundred years. In the distance, I can see the barn on the hill, finished now, her name over the door.
“Beck,” she says. “I’m pregnant.”
The world stops.
“What?”
“Pregnant.” She’s smiling now, that shy smile she gets when she’s not sure how I’ll react. “About eight weeks. I was going to wait to tell you, but-”
I grab her and spin her around before she can finish the sentence. She shrieks, laughing, her arms around my neck.
“Beck! Put me down!”
“No.” I’m laughing too, or maybe crying, I can’t tell. “I’m never putting you down. I’m going to carry you everywhere for the next nine months.”
“That’s impractical.”
“I don’t care.”
I set her down gently, reverently, my hands on her still-flat stomach. There’s a baby in there. Our baby. A sibling for Josie, a new life we made together.
“I’m going to buy extremely expensive things,” I say. “And cry in public. Ray’s going to see.”
“Ray’s already seen you cry.”
“He’s going to see it again.” I kiss her, soft and deep. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For staying.” I pull back enough to look at her. “For giving me another chance. For letting me earn it.”
“You proved it a long time ago.”
“I’m going to keep proving it.” I drop to my knees in front of her, press a kiss to her stomach. “Every day. For the rest of my life.”
“I know.” She runs her fingers through my hair. “That’s why I stayed.”
The sun is setting over the barn on the hill. The creek murmurs past us. And somewhere in the distance, I can hear Josie shrieking with laughter, probably chasing a barn cat or demanding more sugar.
This is my life now. Which is not something I planned, or the one I thought I wanted. Something better and real.
“I love you,” I say, my cheek pressed against her stomach.
“I love you too.”
She pulls me to my feet, kisses me again. “That’s why I believe you.”
We walk back to the barn together, her hand in mine. The sale is over, the guests are leaving, and Lucy is waving at us from the porch with Josie on her hip.
Behind us, the creek keeps running. Above us, the beam holds steady.
And nobody’s going anywhere.
THE END