Epilogue
KASEY
Out here, in the wild and unruly plains of Texas, there are no structured ceremonies to uphold, no vows to repeat or promises to make. There is only us—Ava and me—and the love that burns through us like a fever, melting our bones until we become one.
When I proposed to her all those years ago, I pictured exactly this: our closest loved ones gathered together on the ranch, where the horses whinny and flick their tails as they watch us with curious eyes.
I pictured my mother’s smile and my father’s stern gaze, and my brothers at my side in support.
My bride walks toward me now, dark hair unbound and flowing down her back, the swell of her belly growing with every day that passes.
My heart and my home. My beautiful wife, who I will cherish every single day that I draw breath.
I should have known it would always come back to this, that in any universe we’d find our way to each other, no matter the cost. Every second of the pain and torment of losing her is nothing compared to the soaring joy that consumes me now. It was all worth it.
“Are you crying?” Rhett whispers loudly beside me in his best pearl-snap and jeans.
I shrug, keeping my eyes on my girl. “Probably.”
“She’s beautiful,” Wells says from Rhett’s other side.
“Yeah,” I hum. “She is.”
“We should have laid down some pavers or something,” Brooks grumbles from the end of our line. “She’s going to fall.”
I squint my eyes against the bleeding light of the setting sun to look at my older brother, grinning. “She’s not going to fall. She’s wearing her boots.” She hasn’t put on a pair of heels in months.
Brooks doesn’t look convinced. “If my niece gets hurt, there’s going to be hell to pay.”
My grin widens. Ava and I both worried this wedding might send Brooks right back down into a fit of dark depression—but he’s surprised us with his resilience, spending multiple afternoons helping to clean up the pasture and ready it for the small ceremony.
He’s also shown a lot of excitement for the baby, teaching the boys it’s going to be their job to look out for her and keep her safe.
Only my family knows the baby isn’t mine by blood—and the sheriff, I suppose. We never made a plan for what to tell everyone else, but when word got out and spread that I’d already knocked up my new wife, we decided we didn’t care. What was the point?
Truthfully, I like it better this way, anyway. I’d rather everyone know that baby is a Bennett, regardless of the blood that flows through her veins. Tobias already sent a signed document releasing all parental rights, and Ava didn’t put up an ounce of a fight.
“She’s not going to get hurt,” I promise, looking back at Ava who shoots me a sly smile that damn near makes my legs wobble.
“Would you five pipe down over there?!” Layla screeches from my left. She glares down the line of my brothers, her raven curls bouncing around her face with the force of her admonishment. “This isn’t the time for discussion.”
“Sorry, sunshine,” Wells mumbles.
“I didn’t even say anything!” Sawyer protests, earning him a hard shoulder-nudge from Wells. He winces. “Sorry.”
Layla shakes her head, turning back toward Ava.
Though she walks alone down the makeshift aisle lined with terracotta pots overflowing with wildflowers, Ava pauses when she reaches where her father sits in a wicker chair, holding her hand out to squeeze his shoulder.
They’ve been making strides with a new open door between them, and I know him being here for this means the world to her, even if his wife wouldn’t make it.
I study the sheriff now, recognizing the emotion that fills his harsh eyes.
I can’t imagine it’s easy for him to be on this ranch, seated mere feet from my father—but he’s here.
And it’s enough to spark a kernel of respect for the man who’s brought us such misery over the years.
I hope for Ava’s sake he continues to put his daughter’s happiness first.
Besides her father and my parents, the only other people seated in front of us are Olivia’s mom, June, and her boyfriend who works with her in the café, Luna from the bakery, and Colt and Wylie Jo Rustler.
Ava invited Luna under the guise of wanting another, smaller celebration just for family that included her father, Brooks, and Sawyer who all couldn’t make the church wedding, and I invited Colt and his sister in hopes it would show their family that the Bennetts are here to support them, even when things get hard.
Ellis may have orchestrated the card game that went to hell, but he didn’t pull any triggers that night.
Cops linked the bullets in the dead cops to Maverick’s gun, but they never found the gun that killed Maverick.
Ellis told them he drove it hundreds of miles north and chucked it off the side of a deep ravine.
After agreeing to a plea deal that convicted him of organizing an illegal gambling ring and obstruction of justice, charges for the death of Maverick were dropped.
Apparently, Ellis’s public defender made a decent enough case that Maverick was shot purely out of self-defense, and that he would have never been killed in the first place had he not flipped that table and started shooting.
Without a charge for his death, the cops didn’t care too much about finding that gun—which is currently locked in a safe under my bed and registered to my father, who has no idea my brothers and I were there that night.
I’m determined to make sure no one else ever finds out the truth.
Ellis will be sentenced early next year, and he’s looking at a maximum of fifteen years.
I’ll be in that courtroom to show him support when he learns his fate, and I’ll make damn sure his brother and sister know they have five other brothers right here should they need anything.
Ava finally reaches me, her warm hands slipping into mine as the sun casts a golden glow around her, and I know with soul-deep surety that I’m the luckiest man in the whole damn world.
“Hey, sugar,” I murmur as I lean down to kiss her rosy cheek. She smells like frosting and cinnamon, tastes like a drop of honey on my tongue.
“Hey, cowboy.” She smiles up at me. “Crying already?” She reaches to wipe my face with her thumb, and we both laugh. “Ready to do this for real?” she asks.
I lift my eyes to the dimming evening sky. “Fucking finally.”