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Laughter bubbled up among us as we settled into a comfortable rhythm, serving food, pouring drinks, and sharing stories. Each person's genuine affection for me—and for one another—wove a tapestry of community that felt as warm as the sun on our backs.
“Here's to second chances and new beginnings,” Sharon said, raising her glass in a toast. “And to finding balance,” she said, pointedly looking at her eldest son, while he wrapped his arm around me.
“Cheers!” we echoed, glasses clinking together in a melody of hope and gratitude.
“Thank you, guys, really,” I said once the noise had settled. “Your support means everything to me.”
“Family supports each other,” Gray added, his gaze meeting mine with unspoken promises and dreams yet to be fulfilled.
* * *
The laughter of our friends faded into a distant hum as Gray led me by the hand to the far edge of the garden, where the sun dipped low, casting an amber glow over the horizon. The world seemed to hold its breath, bathed in the golden hour's light, and in that hushed moment, it was just him and me.
“Look at this,” he said softly, gesturing to the sprawling land that stretched out before us. His pride was palpable, not in the acres that bore his sweat and blood, but in the dreams that had started to take root.
I squeezed his hand, feeling the roughness of his calluses against my skin—a testament to the work he'd put into every inch of Red Downs Ranch. “It's beautiful, Gray,” I murmured, my gaze tracing the lines of the new fences that mirrored the undulating hills, the renovated barns that gleamed in the fading light.
He nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. “Not as beautiful as you, not even close.” The words were spoken with such sincerity that they threaded around my heart like vines, pulling me closer to him, both physically and emotionally.
“Flatterer,” I teased, but the flutter in my chest betrayed my calm exterior.
“Guilty,” he admitted with a shrug, his blue eyes shining with mischief. “But only 'cause it's true.” His thumb traced circles on the back of my hand, a small action that sent waves of warmth through me.
“Gray, what do you see for us?” I found myself asking, my voice barely above a whisper. The question hung between us, delicate and daring.
His gaze turned thoughtful, and for a moment, he looked almost vulnerable under the weight of his own hopes. “I see mornings with coffee on the porch, watching the sunrise together,” he began, his voice low and steady. “I see horses, Eryn, lots of them. You teaching the foals to trust humans with your gentle touch.”
“Yoga lessons for the cowboys?” I quipped, a playful glint in my eye.
“Maybe,” he conceded with a chuckle. “If they're lucky.” The stubble across his jaw grazed my forehead as he pulled me into the shelter of his chest, the solid beat of his heart syncing with mine. “And I see us, fighting the good fight, keeping this place alive and thriving. Not just surviving, but really living.”
“Living,” I echoed, the word feeling like a promise. “With love, laughter, and maybe a few more picnics in this very garden?”
“Anything you want,” he promised, and there was a weight to his words, a certainty that told me he meant every syllable. “We’re a part of this land. But we’re a part of each other, now, too. We are our legacy.”
His poignant words brought a tear to my eye.
“I like the sound of that.”
“Me too, princess,” he said, dropping a soft kiss on my head. “Me too.”
Epilogue
Gray
Eight months later
Eryn nudged Bella Blue into a gentle canter, and I couldn’t help but watch the easy grace with which she rode. Her brown hair streamed behind her like ribbons in the wind, catching glints of sunlight that broke through the green canopy above us. The mare beneath her moved as if she were an extension of Eryn herself – confident, free, and utterly at peace.
“Look at you two,” I called out, my voice carrying over the sound of hooves on the dirt path. “My two favorite ladies showin’ off for me.”
Eryn threw me a look over her shoulder, her amber eyes sparkling with unspoken challenge, and I felt that familiar tug at my chest. It was a sight I could get used to—Eryn Blake, the social media darling who traded high heels for cowboy boots when she came out here, riding like she belonged among the wildflowers and the whispering pines of my world.
“Gray, she's amazing,” Eryn said once Bella Blue had slowed to a walk beside my horse. “I mean, I knew she would be but feeling that power, that spirit? It's incredible.”
“You two have that in common,” I said, and damn if it didn't feel like the truth. “You’ve got a way with her, with all the horses. It's somethin' special.”
We approached a clearing where the ground leveled out, giving us a full view of the waterfall from a distance. The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows and painting the scene with hues of gold and rose. I saw Eryn take it in, her gaze softening with appreciation.
