Bonus Epilogue
SOME YEARS LATER
“L ike this?”
“Perfect,” I say and step aside to watch Duke roll the rolling pin over the dough. I smile and note the cute quirk of his tongue. Solemn, quiet intensity is my seven-year-old son.
Duke frowns as the rolling pin sticks to the dough. “Shoot.”
I dip my hand in the silky flour and dust some over the surface. “There. Try that.”
“Okay.”
This is our Friday after-school tradition. The scent of freshly baked bread. The set of the coral sun. The plumes of flour cascading in the air.
Just us, prepping at the bakery for the weekend. And we always get in a game of Cowgirl Coven. I moved in the pinball machine not long after we opened. I want my son to love what I love. Even if it doesn’t last, some part of him will always know what makes his mother tick.
I ruffle his dark, fluffy hair. “What kind of pie are we making today?”
He wrinkles his nose. “Peach.”
“Good choice.”
After smacking a kiss on the side of his head, I leave him to it and disappear into the front. With a sigh, I run my eyes over my dreamy little world.
The Huckleberry. My bakery, adorned in hues of lilac and lavender. The bakery has been open for almost six years and is beloved by locals and food critics alike. After a write-up in Food & Wine , it’s been an extreme sport to keep up with the demand of tourists.
Cowboy Cupcakes. Ruby’s Bucket List Carrot Cake. And, of course, my iconic huckleberry and lemon cinnamon rolls.
The chimes above the door jingle. I smile at the familiar stomping stride and the sound of little feet.
“Mama!”
I swipe my five-year-old, Lainie, up in my arms. “Hey, dirty girl.” I dab at the mud on her cheek. There’s grass in her wild chocolate-brown curls. “What happened to you?”
My husband stands there grinning. He never fails to set my heart aflame.
He wears his Warrior Heart Home T-shirt.
The ranch has taken up even more of Davis’s time.
Two years after I had Duke, it became an official sanctuary for dogs.
And it’s grown bigger than it’s ever been, which means we’ve hired instructors and military veterans to train the dogs.
Each dog finds their forever home, thanks to Davis.
Though Keena’s old and grouchy, she’s still our best girl at the Warrior Heart home.
Lainie’s chocolate-brown eyes sparkle. “Uncle Ford took me down into the canyon.” She lifts and waves her dirty fingers. “You know, the one with the skeletons.”
“Mm-hmm.” I give Davis a flat look. “Ford needs his uncle’s license revoked.”
Davis chuckles. “He needs the practice. I’ll hose her down when we get back to the ranch.”
The kitchen door swings open.
“Dad!” Duke rushes toward Davis, eyes alight.
Davis wraps his arm around Duke and brings him in for a hug. “Hey, kiddo. Keeping your mama busy?”
“We’re making peach pie.”
“Save me a slice.”
Duke beams. The way he’s holding onto Davis and looking at him with pure love and adoration makes my heart squeeze.
Their connection is undeniable. Since the day Duke was born, Davis has been there for every “first.” First step, first tear, first baseball game. The best role model, he’s taught our son about the things in life that matter. Being a good man. Integrity. Honor. Respect for women.
Now and then, I’ll think of Aiden. Some small memory. But it doesn’t get far. Not with Davis around. He’s Duke’s father.
In every way that matters.
“Down, down, down.” Lainie wriggles and kicks her legs impatiently.
With a huff, I set her on her feet. Duke takes her hand and the two of them run, giggling, for the pinball machine.
The best big brother. He’s an even bigger protector than Davis.
Davis shoots me a smoldering look and corners me behind the register. I shiver as a big hand cups the curve of my ass. The other lifts the edge of a lavender pastry box.
“Not yours,” I scold and palm his steel chest. “These are going to Ruby’s for her flower arranging class.”
“Playing favorites, Cupcake? Don’t make me take you back into the kitchen.” I shudder at the husk in his voice. Goosebumps break across my skin as he tugs me tighter into his arms.
I scoff. “You wouldn’t dare,” I say right before his mouth crashes down on mine. Everything falls away. I loop my arms around his neck and drink him in.
The man of my dreams.
A dark shadow passing by the window catches my eye.
“We have company,” I murmur against his lips.
Davis growls at the jingle of the door chimes.
I twist in his arms to see Charlie standing in the doorway. On his shoulders, his two-year-old daughter, Meadow. Though Ruby and Charlie weren’t able to have children on their own, Ford’s wife offered to be Ruby’s surrogate. No gift could ever compare to what she gave them.
“Da-dee! Da-dee! Da-dee!” Meadow smashes her hands to Charlie’s dark beard, and he merely grins as he takes the abuse.
“Got the stash?” he asks.
“There,” I say, pointing at the box. “Twenty eclairs that your brother almost got ahold of.”
He gives me a grin, hefts the box in his hands. “You’re a lifesaver.”
I tug on Meadow’s chubby little foot, and she squeals in delight. She’s a strawberry blonde beauty like her mother. “Anything for Ruby.”
After ruffling Meadow’s hair, Davis points a finger at his brother. “Wyatt’s in town. We got poker tonight. Nine p.m. Bullshit box.”
Charlie rolls his eyes and bounces a squealing Meadow on his back. “Bossy bastard.” With a grin on his face, he ducks his broad-shouldered frame and disappears out the door.
Davis tugs at my apron strings. “You ready to come home with your husband and take it easy?”
I simply laugh and glance over at Duke, who is hefting Lainie onto a stool so she can expertly smash the plungers. “When have I ever taken it easy?”
His smile is wicked. “Got two reasons to,” he says, his broad hand splaying across my rounded stomach as he leans down to sweep his lips across mine.
Twins.
It was the best, most shocking surprise of the entire year. If Davis has his way, we’re going to have a baker’s dozen of babies. But I love it. Love the world Davis and I have created. Filled with love and chaos and babies and bottles, the way we both want it to be.
I never imagined this would have been possible. The darkness in my life so many years ago, sucker punched by sunshine and joy. Davis has devoured my heart and soul and has only given me happiness.
A year after Duke was born, my dream home at Eden was completed. A massive two-story modern farmhouse with a gourmet kitchen and a wraparound porch. Just like the setting sun, Davis is dependable. Every day, he rises, tearing up the gravel drive to start his days at Runaway Ranch.
And in the evenings…it’s a sight I never get sick of.
My husband coming home to me.
Weekends are for fun and bonfires down at the ranch.
Our family’s close. We fight and argue and love fiercely.
It seems like I can’t take a step around Resurrection without running into nieces, nephews, and sisters- and brothers-in-law I adore.
Our compound at the ranch is growing by the day—especially with our twins and the recent news that Ford’s wife is expecting.
Now I know what love is. The golden light of Runaway Ranch. A flour dusted apron on Sunday morning and Davis Montgomery’s hand in mine. It’s bliss.
The greatest love story I could have ever dreamed up.
Davis frames my face with his hands, his brown eyes gleaming. “Home, Cupcake?”
A slow smile spreads across my face. “Home.”