Chapter 26 - Jack
Jack
I couldn't stop looking at her.
We were in a booth at the back of the bar now, tucked into a corner where the lighting was dim and the noise faded to a comfortable hum.
Maggie was pressed against my side, her head on my shoulder, her hand laced through mine like she was afraid I'd disappear if she let go.
Sully was sprawled under the table, finally relaxed in a way he hadn't been since we left Texas.
She came. She actually came.
I kept testing the reality of it—the warmth of her body against mine, the smell of her shampoo, the way her thumb traced absent circles on the back of my hand. She was real. This was real. After a week of driving and working and trying not to hope too hard, she was actually here.
I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She made a soft sound and burrowed closer, her fingers tightening around mine.
"I thought about you every mile," she murmured against my shoulder. "Every gas station, every motel, every bad cup of coffee. I kept reading your note and trying to figure out what 'all the way' meant."
"And?"
"And I think I finally get it." She lifted her head to look at me, her eyes still red-rimmed but clear now. Steady. "It means no safety net. No exit plan. Just... jumping and trusting you'll catch me."
My chest ached with how much I loved her. "I'll always catch you, Maggie. That's not even a question."
"I know." She smiled—small, wondering, like she was still getting used to the idea. "That's the terrifying part."
Liam and Stephanie were at a table across the room, giving us space but staying close. I caught Liam's eye and nodded my thanks. He nodded back—one love-struck fool to another, words unnecessary.
"Tell me about yesterday," Maggie said eventually, her voice soft. "Liam said you went to see your family."
I took a breath. It was still raw, still tender—the graveyard, the headstones, the six years of grief I'd finally let myself feel. But Maggie deserved to know. She deserved all of me, including the broken parts.
"I hadn't been back since the funeral," I said. "Six years."
She reached up and touched my face, her palm warm against my cheek. "I'm so sorry you had to do that alone."
"I wasn't alone." I covered her hand with mine, held it there. "Sully was there. And I talked to them—my family. Told them about you."
Maggie leaned forward and kissed me—soft and slow, tasting like salt and beer and something that felt like forever. When she pulled back, her eyes were shining.
We sat together in the dim light of the booth, the bar quiet around us, and I felt something settle in my chest.
Time to lay the rest of it out.
"I need to tell you something," I said. "About the inheritance."
Maggie's brow furrowed. "You mentioned it before. Money from your family?"
"From the ranch. When I sold it after the funeral, I put everything into an account and never touched it." I took a breath. "It felt wrong—like blood money, earned from loss. I couldn't think of anything worth spending it on." I paused. "Until now."
"Jack, I don't need—"
"I know you don't need it. That's not what this is about." I shifted so I was facing her fully, our knees touching under the table. "I want to build a ranch—my ranch, with my name on it. Not stepping into your family's shadow, but building alongside it. A partner, not a dependent."
She was staring at me like I'd just offered her the moon.
"The horse program you've been dreaming about," I continued. "We could make it happen. Together. Not me rescuing you, not you rescuing me—just two people building something that belongs to both of us."
"Jack." Her voice was barely a whisper. "That's... everything I've ever wanted."
She was crying again, but she was also laughing—that helpless, joyful sound that I was starting to think might be my favorite thing in the world.
"I don't know what to say," she managed.
"Say yes." I smiled. "Or say you need time to think about it. Or say you want to negotiate terms like the fierce businesswoman I know you are. Whatever you need, Maggie. I'm not going anywhere."
She laughed harder, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "You're ridiculous."
I shrugged once, fighting off a smile. “I’m in love. Same thing."
Maggie took a shaky breath, composing herself. When she looked at me again, her eyes were clear and certain—the Maggie I'd fallen for, the one who ran a ranch like a general and didn't back down from anything.
"I don't want your money, Jack. I want you." She squeezed my hands. "But if we're doing this—building something together—then we do it as partners. Fifty-fifty. I contribute what I can, you contribute what you can, and we figure out the rest as we go."
"Done."
"And I want to be involved in every decision. The land, the horses, the business plan—all of it. I'm not going to be a silent partner in my own dream."
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
"And—" She hesitated, something vulnerable flickering across her face. "I want to take it slow. Not the commitment part—I'm all in on that. But the rest of it. Building the ranch, making plans. I want to do it right, not rush into something because we're high on reunion endorphins."
I nodded slowly. "That's fair. What does 'slow' look like to you?"
"I don't know yet." Her smile turned rueful. "I've never done this before. The whole... letting someone in, building a life together thing. I'm probably going to be terrible at it."
"You're going to be amazing at it." I lifted her hand to my lips, kissed her knuckles. "And when you're not, I'll be right here. We'll figure it out together."
Maggie looked at me for a long moment—really looked, like she was seeing all the way down to the bottom of me. Whatever she found there must have satisfied her, because her smile softened into something warm and sure.
"Okay," she said. "Let's build something."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." She leaned in, her forehead resting against mine. "But first, let's go home. I want to introduce my family to my partner."
My heart swelled so big I was surprised it fit in my chest. Home. She said home, and she meant Copper Creek, and she meant together.
"One condition," I said.
"What's that?"
"When we get back, you introduce me to everyone. Not as the ranch hand. Not as the new hire." I pulled back enough to meet her eyes, making sure she understood how much this mattered. "As yours. Out loud. In front of whoever's watching."
Maggie's smile was radiant—the kind of smile that could light up a room, that made me feel like the luckiest man alive.
"Jack, I will introduce you as mine to anyone who stands still long enough to listen. I will shout it from the roof of the barn if you want. I will take out a billboard on the highway." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "I will have Stephanie write a song about it and perform it at the bar."
I laughed—a real laugh, the kind that came from somewhere deep and true. "Let's start with the family and work our way up to billboards."
Her smile was luminous. "Deal."
She kissed me again, and this time it wasn't soft or tentative. It was a claiming. A declaration. A promise sealed with the kind of certainty that didn't leave room for doubt.
When we finally broke apart, the bar was nearly empty. Liam caught my eye from across the room and raised his beer in a silent salute. Stephanie was grinning like she was personally responsible for this outcome, which—I had to admit—she kind of was.
“Liam's a good man," I said.
"The best." Maggie glanced at Liam with obvious affection. "He drove three thousand miles to help me chase you down. Didn't complain once. Didn't say 'I told you so.' Just showed up and did what needed doing."
"That's what family does."
Maggie turned back to me, her expression soft. "Yeah. It is." She took my hand again, threaded her fingers through mine. "And now you're part of it. Officially. No take-backs."
"No take-backs," I agreed.
Something shifted between us then—the air thickening, the warmth of her body against mine suddenly impossible to ignore.
I leaned closer, my lips brushing her ear. "I need to tell you something."
"What's that?"
"I've been thinking about the future all night. The ranch. The horses. The life we're going to build." I pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, letting her see exactly what I was feeling. "But right now, all I can think about is getting you alone and showing you exactly how much I missed you."
Her breath caught. Color rose in her cheeks, and her eyes darkened in a way that made my pulse kick hard.
"Jack..."
"I have a room," I said, my voice low. "Nothing fancy. Just a bed and four walls and a door that locks." I traced my thumb along her jaw, watching her shiver. "Come back with me. Let me show you what you mean to me. Let me seal this deal properly."
Maggie's smile turned slow and heated. "And here I thought you wanted to take things slow."
"The planning can be slow." I kissed the corner of her mouth, felt her lean into me. "This can't wait another minute."
She laughed—that low, throaty sound that had been haunting my dreams since Texas. "Then what are we still doing here?"
I signaled the bartender, dropped enough cash on the table to cover our drinks and a generous tip, and stood up. Maggie's hand was still in mine. Sully lifted his head, ready to follow.
Across the room, Liam raised an eyebrow. I gave him a nod—we're good, don't wait up—and he nodded back, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Stephanie was already pulling out her phone, probably texting someone about the outcome of this whole adventure.
The walk to the motel was short—just across the parking lot, the neon sign flickering in the darkness. Maggie pressed against my side, her hip bumping mine with every step, and by the time I got the key in the lock, my hands weren't quite steady.
The room was exactly what I'd described: nothing fancy. A bed, a dresser, a window that looked out on the mountains. But when I closed the door behind us and turned to face Maggie, it felt like the most beautiful place I'd ever been.
She stood in the dim light, watching me with those eyes that saw everything. No armor now. No walls. Just Maggie, open and wanting and mine.
"Come here," I said.
She came.
I kissed her slow and deep, the way I'd been wanting to since she walked through that bar door. My hands found her waist, her hips, the curve of her back. She pressed against me, all warmth and softness, and made a sound against my mouth that nearly undid me.
"I love you," I murmured against her lips. "I love you, Maggie Blackwood."
"Show me," she whispered back.
So I did.
I took my time with her—learning her again, memorizing every sigh and shiver, making up for the days we'd lost. She was fierce even in this, demanding and giving in equal measure, and when she finally came apart in my arms, she said my name like it was the only word she knew.
Afterward, we lay tangled together in the narrow motel bed, her head on my chest, my hand tracing lazy patterns on her bare shoulder. The room was quiet except for our breathing and the distant sound of trucks on the highway.
"That was..." Maggie trailed off, apparently at a loss for words.
"Yeah." I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "It was."
She laughed softly, her breath warm against my skin. "I can't believe I almost let you go."
"You didn't let me go." I tightened my arms around her. "You just took the scenic route to get here."
She chuckled. "Three thousand miles of scenic route."
"Worth every mile."
She tilted her head up to look at me, her eyes soft in the darkness. "I'm sorry it took me so long to be brave."
"Don't be." I brushed a strand of hair from her face. "You're here now. That's all that matters."
Maggie settled back against my chest with a contented sigh. Within minutes, her breathing had evened out, her body relaxing into sleep. I held her in the darkness and let myself feel the full weight of what had happened.
No take-backs.
Tomorrow we'd start the long drive back to Texas—back to Copper Creek, back to the Blackwoods, back to the land and the future we were going to build together.
I was ready to stay.
I pressed a kiss to Maggie's hair and closed my eyes, and for the first time in as long as I could remember, I fell asleep without dreading what morning would bring.