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“I don’t know what to do. My family needs closure.”
His arms bring me to his chest, enfolding me in his warm embrace. “Then tell them.”
“What if they take their anger out on you?”
He smiles and picks up the dice he brought with us upstairs from the bed. “Roll.”
My fingers curl around the ivory cubes, and I toss the dice without questioning his motives. They land on three. He rolls a nine and asks, “Do you love me?”
“Yes,” I answer instantly.
“Then tell them.”
“But ...”
His index finger presses into my lips, silencing me. “No, buts. If you love me, no one, and nothing else matters. We’ll get through this together, and we’ll be stronger for it.”
I smile.
My heart was never prepared to combat the armor draped over Battle’s heart. We went to war against each other, climbing an uphill battle to be together. There were casualties along the way, but we survived the descent, and at the bottom, he surrendered.
Love truly does conquer all.
Two years later…
Gentry plants a slobbery kiss on the side of Dakota’s face. He doesn’t get the desired response as JT and Ginger’s little girl bawls, her quivering bottom lip sticking out as far as it will stretch.
They’re a month apart, and as opposite as any girl and boy could be. Dakota is sweet, quiet, and usually annoyed with Gentry’s rough and rowdy ways.
Battle scoops our one-year-old off the floor. “Now, buddy, you gotta give a lady time to warm up to you before you go tryin’ to kiss her.”
I smile in awe as I stare at my husband and child, like I have every day since Gentry was born. Battle had concerns about being a father. I think he feared turning out like the man who emotionally abandoned him, but he’s nothing like Gerald McCoy. He proves it every day with the love he shows me and Gentry.
Gerald McCoy never served a day in jail. He denied having any knowledge of the accident and went as far as to point the finger at Battle, claiming Battle was jealous of Gentry, and wanted to tarnish his brother’s good name.
The police showed up at Battle’s house to examine the Camaro. Battle didn’t hesitate to allow them access to the car. I didn’t believe for a moment they would find anything. They didn’t. That night, we drove the car out to Battle’s favorite place, Old Man Parson’s property, where we reenacted our first night together.
In the end, the police couldn’t prove Battle’s father had anything to do with covering up for Gentry, and the car had been conveniently sent to demolition after Gentry’s death. Mr. McCoy sited grief as his reason for destroying the car, but my family and I know the truth. We have closure. And Battle has peace.
Battle proposed the night he won his first national event, and we eloped two days later. My parents weren’t thrilled as my father still prefers planning over spontaneity. We were forced to attend a reception at their house with family and friends.
I thought my poor father might have a heart attack when I delivered the news of a welcomed, but unplanned pregnancy. He reacted better than I expected. The moment Gentry was born, there was never a question he was elated to be a grandpa. After he retired, and abandoned his bid for Mayor, my mother didn’t know what she’d do with him. He spends most of his afternoons at Battle’s helping Henry man the ranch. I personally think he comes for Roy.
Wyatt and Madeline are expecting their first child in a few months. I smile at him from across the room. Somehow, through all the hurt feelings, we’ve remained friends. It would have been so easy to hold a grudge, but we have a history that bonds us. I channeled Gram to forgive him. His mistakes were made before the accident that changed him. We all deserve a second chance. I’m fond of Madeline. She’s perfect for Wyatt. Mrs. Daughtrey has even come around, and we’ve made amends.
Cooper and Katie are still together, and their daughter is beautiful, although we don’t see as much of them as we want since Copper moved to Oklahoma. They plan to move to Kansas after Katie gets her Bachelor’s degree. As we gather t
oday to celebrate Marty and Austin’s engagement, I realize Scooter’s the only one of our group who isn’t tied down, and if you ask him, he says he never will be.
Erinn smiles at me as she holds Gentry on her lap. My baby boy may be the first child I birthed, but Erinn gave me the gift of motherhood. I wipe a tear as I think about how much Evelyn has missed. Our scared girl, who struggled so long to socialize, now competes for an elite dance team. She has friends, some with a diagnosis and some without, but typical teenagers all the same.
Battle sweeps my hair to the side, nuzzling my neck. “How’s Evelyn?” he asks slyly.
I beam, circling my stomach with my palms. “She’s good.”
I’m only seven weeks along, but Battle insists it’s a girl. I wasn’t convinced until Erinn agreed with him.
As I glance up into his eyes, butterflies dance in my tummy as they always do when I’m near him.
