“I’ll be right back.”
“Billy…” Her voice cracks. “Please don’t leave me.”
Those words cut deeper than she’ll ever know.
I climb into bed beside her without another thought. The moment I wrap my arms around her, she breaks.
Her sobs shake through her whole body, the sound muffled against my chest as she buries her face in me. I hold her tighter, one hand stroking the back of her head, the other rubbing slow circles along her spine.
“I’m here,” I whisper. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Her fingers pull me closer as she cries. I don’t say anything else. There isn’t anything to say that can fix this. All I can do is hold her and let her fall apart against me.
Sometime in the night, the sobs stop. Her breathing evens out against me, her limbs pressed into mine. My arms stay around her even as my own exhaustion pulls me under.
When morning filters into the room, I wake up. My hand is numb from where she’s sleeping on it. I control my breathing just so I don’t wake her.
Her eyes look a little puffy, her face soft with sleep and sorrow.
It takes what feels like twenty minutes before she stirs awake.
Her breath brushes my chest. She lifts her head slowly and studies me for a long moment. Her hand is splayed on my torso.
She drums her fingers gently. I lift the hand to my lips, pressing kisses to the digits. “Hey, baby.”
The first words she says are, “I want to marry you.”
My heart lurches so hard I forget how to breathe. I search her face, looking for doubt, but there’s none. She looks raw and fragile and utterly sure.
“Sedona…” My voice comes out rough.
“I mean it,” she whispers, her fingers curling against my skin. “I want to marry you. I don’t want to waste any more time.”
Emotion floods my chest so fast I have to close my eyes. I pull her into me, holding her with everything I am, feeling her exhale against my throat, feeling something bright unfurl inside both of us.
She wants me.
She wants us.
She wants forever.
And in this moment, as the morning settles around us and her breath warms the hollow beneath my jaw, I’ve never loved her more.
The sun sits high overhead when Jasper lifts his camera again and calls out for Joey to hold Diesel in place. The stallion tosses his head like he’s considering a fight, but Joey keeps his hand firm on the lead rope.
Diesel has always been the kind of animal who wants to win every interaction, even the ones that don’t matter. And Joey loves him exactly because of that stubborn streak.
Diesel was the first horse he’s ever loved and claimed as his own, and when one of the rodeo boys tried to buy him last year, Joey said he’d sooner sell a lung.
The four of us stand in a rough half-circle inside the makeshift pen. Dust rises every time a hoof digs in. These three new stallions are a whole different challenge, though.
They came from a ranch down in Idaho that got slammed with medical bills after the owner’s wife got sick. They needed cash fast, so Seth drove down the day after we heard the rumor and bought all three.
They weren’t cheap, but they’re strong animals, two bays and one gorgeous silver roan. A little wild around the edges, but nothing we haven’t handled before.
Seth strokes Juniper’s neck while he double-checks the rope halter. Juniper isn’t new. She’s his. She’s calm and smart, exactly what he needs in a horse, and she takes to new routines faster than any horse I’ve ever seen.
Tex sits up on Bandit, riding lazy circles inside the pen. Bandit listens to no one except him.
