Epilogue
Maggie
A few months later
The Blackwood Fall Rodeo & Hospital Fundraiser was in full swing, and from my spot balanced on the top rail of the arena fence—my throne, thank you very much—I could see my entire life unfolding in dust and sunlight.
The air smelled like trampled dirt, leather, grilled brisket, and funnel cake.
A scent I’d dubbed the Copper Creek perfume.
Kids sprinted in every direction, high on cotton candy.
Old ranchers sat in a row of folding chairs, boots crossed, arms folded, issuing running commentary like they were judging Olympic finals.
Volunteers hustled around silent auction tables—handmade quilts, cattle feed vouchers, a weekend stay at Oak Hollow Ranch—all raising money for Copper Creek Hospital.
It took months of planning to pull this thing off.
Dad wrangled sponsors and livestock. Momma cooked enough food to feed a battalion.
Clay and Hunter handled arena setup. Wyatt ran safety.
Liam handled law enforcement and emergency demonstrations.
Soph, of course, made sure our first aid tent was fully stocked and ready for anything.
Even Luke was in town from Dallas, enjoying it all.
And me? I ran the whole damn operation like a battlefield commander.
My family was scattered around the arena like puzzle pieces that had finally clicked into place.
Wyatt stood beside Ivy near the warm-up ring, adjusting her stirrups for the exhibition drill.
She wasn’t a rodeo girl—not yet—but she loved the horses, and my brother loved watching her love anything.
They weren’t married, not officially, but the way he looked at her?
Yeah. It was only a matter of time. And if he didn’t propose soon, I’d probably do it for him just to end the suspense.
A little farther down the rail, Liam and Steph were in their own little orbit—so wrapped up in each other they practically glowed.
Four months home, and Steph had turned into sunlight again.
No haunted shadows, no fear behind her eyes.
Writing music, smiling more, helping around the ranch.
And Liam? That man walked like he’d finally found a reason to breathe.
Clay was in the announcer’s booth with a microphone, charming the county with that loud-mouthed swagger that made him beloved and impossible. Hunter was in the ring, showing a couple of kids how to loop a rope without taking an eye out.
My family. My brothers. Home. Safe. Settled.
And then there was…me.
I shifted on the rail, boots scraping the wood, trying not to roll my eyes at my own damn feelings. I wasn’t jealous. God no. I loved seeing them find their people. I’d fought like hell to keep us all alive through hard times and heartbreak—of course, I wanted them whole.
But watching them find that…lightning strike? That once-in-a-life connection?
Yeah. It poked at something I usually kept locked tight under sarcasm and spreadsheets.
Maggie Blackwood—logistics queen, unofficial ranch foreman, fixer of everything from broken gates to broken hearts—didn’t expect her world to revolve around romance. I loved my job. Loved my family. Loved this life.
And I had work to do. But still…
My mind drifted—unhelpfully
I shifted on the rail, trying not to think about last month. About Wild Creek, a small town like ours, not even an hour away. About the bar I'd wandered into after a particularly frustrating day of everyone asking when I was going to settle down like my brothers.
About Jack.
Even his name in my head made heat crawl up my spine. Dark hair, darker eyes, hands that knew exactly what they were doing. We hadn't exchanged last names, hadn't exchanged numbers, hadn't exchanged anything but—
Nope. Not thinking about it. What happened in Wild Creek stayed in Wild Creek, even if I could still feel the ghost of his hands on my skin, could still hear his voice rough in my ear, saying things that would make a sailor blush.
I'd told no one. Not Ivy, not Sophia, not even my diary.
That night was mine. My secret. My one wild indiscretion that proved I wasn't just Maggie Blackwood, perpetual little sister and ranch princess.
I was also a woman who could walk into a bar, seduce a stranger, and walk out the next morning with my head high and my body thoroughly, deliciously ruined.
"Maggie!" Momma called from below. "Come down here. Your father has someone to introduce."
I hopped off the rail, brushing dust from my jeans. Probably another investor in the breeding program or someone buying cattle. Dad was always bringing people around during the rodeo, showing off our operation.
The family gathered near the main chute—all of us, even Clay abandoned his microphone for the moment. Dad stood with a man whose back was to me, broad shoulders in a worn denim shirt, dark hair that looked like it had been recently cut short.
"Everyone, want you to meet our new ranch hand," Owen announced, his voice carrying that tone of respect he reserved for people who'd earned it. "This is Jack Remington. Comes highly recommended from the Golden Circle ranch over in Wild Creek. Good man, hard worker."
The man turned.
And the world stopped. I staggered back a step. My heart in my throat.
It was him.
Jack. My Jack. No, not my Jack. The stranger from the bar. The man who'd done things to me that still made me blush in church. Standing here. At my family ranch. Being introduced as our new ranch hand.
Oh God. Oh God, oh God, oh God.
His eyes found mine across the group, and I saw the exact moment he recognized me. His expression didn't change—still that calm, controlled face that had driven me crazy that night—but his eyes. His eyes said he remembered everything. Every. Single. Thing.
"This is Wyatt and Ivy," Dad was saying, making introductions. "Liam and Stephanie. Clay, Hunter, Luke.” Then his hand landed on my shoulder. "And this is our Maggie."
Jack stepped forward, extending his hand like we'd never met. Like those hands hadn't—
"Ma'am," he said, his voice exactly as I remembered it. Deep. Controlled. With just a hint of Texas drawl.
I forced my hand into his, forced a polite smile that probably looked like I was having a stroke. "Mr. Remington."
His handshake was firm, brief, appropriate. But his thumb brushed across my palm in a way that made my knees weak. He remembered. He definitely remembered.
"Jack's going to be staying in the old bunkhouse," Dad continued, oblivious to my internal meltdown. "Starting tomorrow, he'll be working primarily with the horses. Maggie, you'll need to show him around the operations since you know all the ins and outs better than anyone.”
I what? I would what?
"Of course," I heard myself say, my voice somehow normal. "Happy to help."
Jack's mouth twitched—just barely, probably invisible to everyone but me. "I appreciate that, Miss Blackwood. I'm sure you'll be able to teach me a lot."
Teach him? Teach him?! This man had taught me things that weren't in any manual.
"Maggie knows everything about this ranch," Wyatt said proudly. "Best horsewoman in the county, too.” I had to look away, so I didn’t know if Jack could see me blushing. I knew my eldest brother meant well, but I didn’t need him singing my praises to a man who had me ten different ways.
"I don't doubt it," Jack said, still looking at me with those dark eyes that gave away nothing and everything all at once.
"Where are you from originally, Jack?" Ivy asked, always friendly, always curious.
"Here and there," he answered, finally looking away from me. "Montana originally. But Texas always felt like home."
"Well, welcome to Copper Creek," Momma said warmly. "We're having a family dinner tomorrow after church. You should join us."
"That's kind of you, ma'am."
They kept talking—about his experience, his time in the service, how long he planned to stay. I stood there like an idiot, trying not to remember the way he'd said my name in the dark, trying not to think about how his hands had felt, trying not to die of mortification.
This couldn't be happening. The one time—the one time—I'd done something wild, something just for me, and he shows up here? At my home? Working for my family?
"I need to—" I started backing away. "The barrel racing. I should—"
I turned and practically ran toward the rodeo ring, needing distance, needing air, needing the ground to open up and swallow me whole.
"Oh hell no," I muttered, gripping the rail hard enough to leave marks. "Shit-so-fuck!”
"Problem, Miss Blackwood?"
I spun around. Jack had followed me, standing a respectful distance away but close enough that I could smell him—leather and soap and something uniquely him that made my body remember things it shouldn't.
"Oh no," I hissed, looking around to make sure no one could hear. "Don't you dare."
"Don't what?" His expression was innocent, but his eyes were laughing. "I'm just trying to learn my way around. You're supposed to teach me, remember?"
"Why are you here?"
"I needed a job. And my friend Emmett owns part of Golden Circle, but they didn’t have use for me, so he sent me here. Said y’all are some of the best. Seemed like a good fit."
"You didn't know? About me? That I lived here?"
The corner of his mouth curved with a smirk that made my knees weak. “Would it matter if I did?"
I stared at him, this man who'd taken me apart and put me back together in ways that still made me shiver. "We can't—this can't—nothing can happen."
"I'm just here to work, ma'am." The way he said 'ma'am' made it sound like something else entirely. "Although I do look forward to learning from you. I hear you're very...thorough in your teaching."
My face burned. "Stop it."
His smirk widened into a devastating grin. “Stop what? I'm being professional."
"You're being—" I couldn't find the word. Infuriating? Dangerous? Perfect?
"I'm being exactly what you need me to be in public," he said quietly, stepping just close enough that his voice was private. "A professional ranch hand who's never met the boss's daughter before. Isn't that what you want?"
It was. It was exactly what I needed. So why did it make me want to scream?
"Maggie!" Steph called from the ring. "Ivy's about to ride!"
"I have to go," I said.
"Of course. I'll see you tomorrow, Miss Blackwood. For that tour."
"Right. The tour."
I walked away, feeling his eyes on me the whole time. This was a disaster. An absolute, complete disaster.
But as I reached the rail where my family was cheering for Ivy, I caught myself glancing back. Jack was still standing where I'd left him, hands in his pockets, watching me with that slow, knowing smile that had started everything that night in Wild Creek.
Tomorrow I'd have to show him around the ranch. Alone. Professional. Pretending we'd never met when we both knew exactly how we'd met, exactly what we'd done, exactly how many times we'd—
"You okay, Mags?" Liam asked, noticing my death grip on the rail.
"Fine," I lied. "Just fine."
But I wasn't fine. I was in trouble. Big, six-foot-two, dark-eyed, knows-exactly-what-I-look-like-naked trouble.
And from the way Jack was still smiling as he walked back toward the trucks, he knew it too.
Tomorrow was going to be hell.
The END