Mila
The afternoon sun turns everything gold—the pasture grass, the barn wood, even Luke's hair as he leans against the porch railing with a beer in hand.
Spring on the ranch hits different than anywhere else I've lived.
Less about flowers and renewal, more about mud and newborn calves and the slow thaw of something frozen too long.
I'm curled in one of the old rocking chairs outside Luke's cabin—our cabin, I correct myself silently, still getting used to the possessive—watching him talk with Caleb about fence repairs or cattle rotation or whatever other ranch business they discuss in that shorthand language I'm still learning.
My laptop sits abandoned on my knees, the branding proposal for the summer guest season half-finished because I keep getting distracted by the view.
Not the mountains, though they're spectacular as always.
No, I keep getting distracted by Luke. By the way his face relaxes when he's home early enough to enjoy the evening. By how he laughs at something Caleb says, that low rumble I felt against my ribs this morning when he kissed me awake.
"You're staring." Harper drops into the chair beside mine, startling me out of my trance. "Again."
"I'm appreciating." I don't bother denying it. "There's a difference."
"Mmm." She sips her drink and follows my gaze to where Luke and Caleb stand near the fence line. "How's the proposal coming?"
"It's not." I gesture vaguely at my screen. "I keep trying to write copy about 'authentic Montana ranch experience' and my brain turns to mush because I'm too busy thinking about how Luke's ass looks in those jeans."
Harper snorts. "Eloquent."
"I'm a professional." I close my laptop with exaggerated dignity. "I contain multitudes. Some of those multitudes include objectifying my boyfriend."
"Boyfriend." Harper grins. "Still sounds weird hearing you say it."
It does sound weird. Boyfriend feels too small for what Luke is—too teenage and temporary for someone who knows how I take my coffee and which design clients stress me out and exactly how to touch me so I come apart.
But partner sounds too corporate and lover sounds like we're in a historical romance novel, so boyfriend it is.
"You get used to it," I say instead. "Kind of like how you got used to calling Caleb your husband instead of 'that grumpy cowboy who terrified me.'"
"He still terrifies me sometimes." But she's smiling when she says it, that private smile reserved for when she's thinking about her husband. "Just in different ways now."
I don't ask for clarification. Some things I really don't need to know about my friends' sex lives.
Sadie emerges from around the side of the cabin carrying a bottle of wine and three glasses. "Please tell me we're drinking and not working because I've spent all day dealing with a guest who insisted we had to have vegan, gluten-free, sugar-free options for the trail ride snacks."
"What did you tell them?" I accept a glass gratefully.
"That beef jerky is technically gluten-free." Sadie pours with the efficiency of someone who's done this many times before. "And that if they wanted a juice cleanse, they should've booked a spa in Sedona instead of a working cattle ranch."
Harper chokes on her lemonade. "You didn't."
"I was polite about it." Sadie settles cross-legged on the porch boards, leaning back against the railing. "Mostly. Luke smoothed it over afterward by offering to have the kitchen make custom trail mix or whatever. He's better at the hospitality smile than I am."
"Luke's better at a lot of things." The words slip out warm and fond, and both Harper and Sadie immediately pounce.
"Oh my god." Sadie's grin turns wicked. "You're so gone for him."
"I'm sitting right here enjoying a pleasant evening?—"
"You're mooning." Harper points at me with her lemonade. "Actively mooning over your boyfriend like a teenager with a crush."
"I am not mooning." I take a long sip of wine to hide my face. "I'm appreciating. It's different."
"You said that already." Sadie stretches her legs out, tilting her face toward the sun. "And for the record, I'm incredibly smug about being right. Remember when I said you'd be perfect for Luke and you insisted you were too chaotic?"
"I remember you forcing me to help him in the office when I explicitly said it was a bad idea."
"Best bad idea I ever had." She looks entirely too pleased with herself. "You're welcome, by the way. For your entire relationship and current domestic bliss."
I flip her off, but there's no heat behind it. She's right, unfortunately. If Sadie hadn't strong-armed me into helping Luke last fall, I'd probably still be languishing in my apartment pretending I was going to leave any day now.
Instead, I turned down the Helena job three months ago. Officially took over guest experience and branding operations for Blackwood Ranch. Moved into Luke's cabin where my design clutter now coexists with his meticulous organization in a way that somehow works.
My coffee mugs live in his kitchen. My clothes take up half his closet. My framed art prints lean against the bedroom wall waiting to be hung because I keep getting distracted by other, better uses of our time.
It's permanent in a way nothing's been since before the scandal destroyed my life.
And instead of feeling trapped, I feel free.
"How's the remote work going?" Harper asks, always good at reading when I need a subject change. "Still juggling the ranch stuff with freelance?"
"Yeah, but it's manageable." I pull my knees up, balancing the wine glass carefully.
"I've got two retainer clients in Seattle who are low-maintenance, and the ranch branding keeps me busy without being overwhelming.
Plus Luke actually takes breaks now, so I'm not drowning in administrative backup. "
"He does seem more relaxed." Sadie studies him across the yard where he's still deep in conversation with Caleb. "Less like he's holding up the entire ranch through sheer force of will."
"That's because he finally figured out he doesn't have to do everything alone." The words come out softer than intended, affectionate in a way I'm still getting used to showing publicly. "Turns out when you actually ask for help, people show up."
Both Harper and Sadie give me looks that are far too knowing.
"What?"
"Nothing." Harper's trying not to smile. "Just noticing you've learned that lesson too."
Fair. I spent a year insisting I was temporary, that my time here was just a break before I returned to my real life. Took nearly losing Luke to realize my real life was right here—in this cabin, on this ranch, with these people who somehow became family without me noticing.
"I hate when you're wise." I drain my wine and hold out my glass for a refill. "It's unsettling."
Sadie laughs and pours. "Speaking of unsettling, did you hear about Dean?"
"That he left again?" I glance toward the barn where Dean's truck usually parks, now conspicuously absent. "Yeah, he mentioned heading back out on the circuit with Colt and Rhett last week."
"Not just that." Harper leans forward, voice dropping into gossip territory. "Apparently there's a woman."
My eyebrows shoot up. "Dean Blackwood, commitment-phobic rodeo star, is interested in a woman?"
"According to Caleb, yes." Harper looks far too delighted by this information. "He says Dean's been distracted all week, keeps checking his phone between events, and Colt's been giving him endless shit about it."
"How does Caleb know all this?" Sadie asks.
"Because apparently the grumpy guy who never wants to talk to anyone is secretly the nosiest person alive." Harper's grin is unrepentant. "He acts all gruff and disinterested but then somehow knows everyone's business. It's a gift."
I snort into my wine. The image of Caleb Blackwood as a gossip is hilarious and somehow completely accurate. He's been tormenting Luke for weeks about "finally falling in love," delivering the phrase with that trademark deadpan that makes it impossible to tell if he's joking or genuinely pleased.
"Do we know anything about this mystery woman?" I ask, because if we're gossiping, we might as well commit. "Is she on the circuit?"
"No idea." Harper shrugs. "Caleb was suspiciously vague about details, which makes me think he knows more than he's saying. I'll work on him."
"You're a menace." But Sadie's smiling when she says it.
"I'm curious." Harper corrects. "There's a difference."
The sound of boots on gravel pulls my attention back to the fence line.
Caleb and Luke are heading our direction, Wyatt trailing behind them with that easy swagger he never quite lost despite being in his mid-fifties.
Luke catches my eye as he approaches and something warm unfolds in my chest at the soft smile he gives me.
A year ago, that smile would've been buried under layers of responsibility and exhaustion. Now it comes easier, more natural, like he's finally remembered he's allowed to be happy.
"Ladies." Wyatt tips his hat in that old-fashioned way that probably charmed everyone back in the day. Still kind of works now, honestly. "Enjoying your wine while the men do all the work?"
"We're supervising." Sadie doesn't miss a beat. "Very important role."
"Uh-huh." But Wyatt's grinning as he drops into the empty chair. "Harper, your husband wants to know if you're staying for dinner or heading back."
"Staying, if Mila doesn't mind cooking." Harper gives me pleading eyes. "Please? I'll help. Caleb tried to make pasta last night and somehow both undercooked and burned it."
"How is that physically possible?" I ask.
"I have no idea, but I'm still traumatized."
Luke's hand finds my shoulder, warm and grounding.
I tilt my head back to look up at him, and the expression on his face makes my stomach flip pleasantly.
He's looking at me the way he has been since that afternoon he showed up at my apartment and told me he loved me—like I'm something precious he still can't quite believe he gets to keep.
"What do you think?" His thumb traces small circles against my collarbone. "Feel like feeding everyone?"
"I guess." I reach up to lace my fingers through his. "But you're helping."
"Always."
The single word carries weight beyond dinner prep. Always—in the kitchen, in the office, in bed, in all the small mundane moments that build a life together. Always showing up, always present, always choosing each other.
Caleb follows Wyatt onto the porch, moving with that careful deliberation he's had ever since his knee started acting up in the cold. Harper immediately rises to meet him, and I watch the way his whole face softens when she gets close. He pulls her against his side, and I can’t help how happy I feel for them
"You feeling okay?" His voice drops low, meant just for her but carrying in the evening quiet.
"I'm perfect." She tilts her face up for a kiss. "I told you I could handle the longer ride. Stop worrying."
"Not worrying." He brushes his lips across hers. "Just checking."
Luke tugs me to my feet, pulling me flush against him in a mirror of his father's gesture. "You good?" he murmurs against my hair.
The question means more than just checking in about right now. It's become our shorthand for everything—Am I working too much? Are you happy? Do you regret staying? Is this life enough?
And every time, my answer is the same.
"I'm perfect." I loop my arms around his waist, breathing in cedar and Montana air and home. "Exactly where I want to be."
His arms tighten around me. "Good."
Wyatt makes a gagging sound. "Jesus Christ, there's four of you now being disgustingly in love on this porch. It's unsettling."
"You're just jealous," Sadie says cheerfully.
"Damn right I'm jealous." But Wyatt's grinning. "Blackwoods hoarding all the pretty women."
"Maybe we need to find you someone, old man." Sadie's wiggles her brows at her dad.
He rolls his eyes. "I've been there." He narrows his gaze at her. "And you don't need anyone, either."
She scoffs. "Don't need to worry about that, Dad."
This. This is what I didn't know I was looking for when I fled Helena over a year ago.
Not just Luke, though he's the center of it all—the steady presence that makes everything else possible.
But this whole chaotic, loud, loving family that absorbed me without hesitation.
Harper who became my best friend without me noticing.
Sadie who pushed me toward happiness even when I was determined to be miserable.
Caleb who treats me like another daughter despite being gruff about feelings.
Wyatt who teases without cruelty and always makes sure I'm included.
Even Dean, with his wild grin and rodeo fame, made space for me here before heading back out on tour. Made sure I knew I belonged at Blackwood Ranch regardless of whether I was dating his brother.
"Alright." I extract myself from Luke's arms reluctantly. "If we're doing dinner, I need to see what ingredients we're working with. Harper, you're on vegetable duty. Luke, you're on music selection because Sadie's taste is questionable at best."
"My taste is eclectic." Sadie follows us toward the cabin door. "There's a difference."
"You tried to play death metal during a trail ride." Luke points out.
"It was one time and that guest specifically requested something 'energizing.'"
Their bickering fades into familiar background noise as I move through the cabin—our cabin—gathering ingredients and mentally planning dinner.
The kitchen still looks mostly like Luke's organization system with my cheerful chaos layered on top.
Bright dish towels I bought in town. Mismatched mugs I collected from various thrift stores.
The fancy olive oil I insisted was worth the splurge.
But it works. Somehow, improbably, this whole life works.
Luke appears behind me as I'm pulling chicken from the fridge, his arms circling my waist and chin hooking over my shoulder. "You okay?" he asks quietly, private words meant just for me despite the crowd gathering on the porch.
I lean back into his warmth, letting the solid presence of him ground me in this moment. Spring evening light filters through our kitchen window. Friends and family laugh on our porch. Montana sky stretches endless overhead, stars just beginning to appear.
For the first time in years—maybe ever—I'm not trying to escape my life.
I finally found one worth staying for.
"Yeah." I turn in his arms to kiss him properly, sweet and certain. "I'm perfect."
And this time, when I say it, I mean it completely.