Epilogue
TWO YEARS LATER
Kelsey: We’ll be there!
Tessa: Same with us!
Layne: Why do I even try?
Tessa: Should we name this new text thread? So Layne never misses an update?
**two hours later**
Layne: Don’t you dare.
Kelsey: He hasn’t been stuck in all caps for a long time. This demands respect.
*Marten Family Saturday Breakfast*
Jake: Is Peggy making her famous syrup?
Layne: You know it.
Jake: Basketball game after?
Layne: If you’re all hanging around that long, we’ll be picking rocks in the south field first, but I can smoke all you kids in basketball afterward.
Cade: The true motive comes out.
Jake: My family will be there.
Jake
Though the black diesel truck had air conditioning, we drove it with the windows down.
At one time, it had been the Diesel Course Truck of the Year.
It was about seven years too late for that title, but I could still begrudgingly see how it could be enjoyed by some people.
I had to admit, the automatic windows and a functional gas gauge had definitely charmed me a bit.
The day I drove it off my mom’s property was the day I found the letter from him inside. From my dad.
I’d never checked the glove box. There had been an unopened apology letter sitting in my truck for almost eight years. It didn’t make anything better, but even I could appreciate a man being big enough to own up to his mistakes.
I still preferred to drive my old truck—some habits were hard to break—but every once in a while, I took my family out in this one.
Cole still called me. I still ignored the call plenty of times, but every once in a while, I picked up.
I wouldn’t say we had a relationship quite yet, but I was allowing myself to consider the possibility that maybe we could get there one day.
And for now, I was at peace with that thought.
Shelby had one hand out the window, rolling it to the motion of the wind, and the other, the hand with her wedding ring, sat resting on her rounding stomach.
Sophie was in the back, singing along to the song on the radio.
She also had her hand out the open window, mimicking her mom.
That sight would never get old. The first time I heard her call Shelby ‘Mom,’ my heart had flipped.
She’d been asking us constantly when her baby sister would be here.
We had two months to go before we could all meet her.
I was hoping she’d have curly, red hair.
A year after we were married, we finally tracked down Miranda.
She had moved on from France and was now living with friends somewhere in Italy, learning how to properly cook pasta.
She kept telling me how beautiful everything was.
How she couldn’t imagine going back to the States after living abroad.
How much more fulfilled her life felt now.
Consequently, she’d been in a good mood and had kindly agreed to officially give up her parental rights to Sophie.
There had been some paperwork to sign and things to figure out, but six months ago, Shelby officially adopted Sophie, who completely adored her new mom.
Even with the stark difference in their hair color, strangers commented all the time on how much the pair looked alike. And I couldn’t have agreed more.
As for me, I still worked as the foreman on the ranch, though Briggs showed an interest in the work, and we now took turns taking the guests out on excursions.
He wasn’t as good a fisherman as me, but he could pass as an expert to tourists.
Anytime I wasn’t Cowboy Jake for the guests, you could find me in a tractor somewhere, checking cows on my horse, or helping Logan build us a little house overlooking the mountains on a spot of property half a mile away from the lodge.
If all went well, we would get our keys to the new place a few days before the baby was born.
Shelby had taken the photography job and was thriving in it.
I liked it because, most of the time, we made her job a family affair.
We’d pick a remote spot we’d never been to, and she’d spend time getting lots of great shots while I fished and we camped with Sophie.
Other times, she’d be out exploring by herself on an assignment for a day or two.
The cowboy spread had done so well for the magazine that she recruited a few more cowboys. Logan, Cade, Briggs, and occasionally Layne Marten were her unwilling victims. They were good sports, though.
My mom had healed up well and was back to work. And we finally convinced her to step down to part-time work at the diner, to give her more time to spend in her flower beds and even go on a date on occasion. I wasn’t sure how I felt about the latter, but it was fun watching her zest for life return.
Even Briggs found his happily ever after. Her name was Margo, and she was an old friend of Tessa’s. She’d been recently divorced and had a small child of her own. They’d hit it off a few years back, and they seemed to pick up right where they left off. They were married this past spring.
There must be something in that Eugene water.
And now, I drove my family to meet everyone for Saturday breakfast at the Marten Farm.
The place where so many good memories of my life were spent.
Along the way, we passed the mountains and the green hay fields surrounding Eugene.
My daughter sang softly in the back of the truck, and my hand rested on the leg of my beautiful wife.
I couldn’t imagine anywhere else on earth I’d be happier than I was right here.
The End