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What I missed was the sweet, simple joy of being with Boone. Of breathing in his calming leather-and-sweat scent. Of feeling the warmth of his arm over my shoulder in the rare moments when he was tired enough to let me carry some of his weight. Of facing down whatever problems came our way—angry ranchers, or adorable newborn calves, or literal mountains of manure—together.
Then I’d grinned dopily to myself because there was nothing on Earth that could make a man like me think fondly of cow shit…
Except true love.
And now that I recognized it, now that I believed in it, I’d promised myself as I drifted off to sleep that once my father’s memorial was done, I’d head back to Wyoming. I’d find the words to convince Boone to give us a chance.
Figured that my handsome, steadfast cowboy had figured it out already. That he was the first and only person in my life who’d ever come looking for me and that he was offering to build us a life outside of any boxes at all.
A wave of affection for the man swamped me, and I lifted our joined hands to my mouth to kiss his work-rough knuckles. “I’m not staying in New York,” I whispered.
Boone stared at me, eyes wide. “You’re turning down 1.75 billion dollars?”
I lifted a shoulder. “Actually, I’m only turning down 1.47 billion. I’m still inheriting the house in the Hamptons, some land up in Maine, a beach house down in the Keys, and…” I frowned. “I think there might be a yacht as well.”
He smiled. “Enough that you don’t have to worry about money.”
I nodded. “Enough for me to do anything I want.”
Boone drew closer. His mouth hovered near mine, so that I could feel his breath on my lips when he asked, “And what’s that, baby? What is it you want?”
The answer was easy. “I want to be with you. I want to go back to Wyoming and the ranch.” I drew my mouth against his softly, letting my tongue flick against his. “I want to go home.”
EPILOGUE
BOONE
I stood with Jed and Norma on the porch of the main house, surveying the Silver Fork Ranch.
“He’s got an eye for detail, doesn’t he?” Jed murmured as he took it all in.
The “he” in question was Richard. And the detail he was referring to were the decorations for the first-ever Silver Fork Fair, which had begun that morning.
It looked like a traveling carnival had exploded in the main yard. Brightly colored triangle streamers were strung between roofs, and balloons dotted every fence post. In the far corner of the yard, the grass had been freshly mowed, and stalls had been set up with various kids games: ring toss, can knockdown, putt-putt, Skee-Ball, face painting.
Beside that were several tables set up for local artisans to sell their wares, and beyond that, even more tables stuffed with food. On the other side of the yard, a show ring complete with benches for spectators had been set up, and kids and teens would show off their livestock there later in the day.
In and among it all were tons of people, most from nearby Silverhollow but some from farther afield. Kids ran around in green 4-H T-shirts and white shirts with blue Future Farmers of America scarves. Younger children toddled about with popcorn and cotton candy and almost any food imaginable on a stick. The air was filled with laughter and chatter and the screech of kids having fun.
The backdrop to it all was the new barn Richard had had built a few months back. And it was quintessentially Richard. Unlike the utilitarian structures on the rest of the ranch, Richard’s barn had what he liked to call “flair” and what most people would call crenelations. It was designed like a castle, complete with a tower. Three sides of it had been painted with elaborate, brightly colored murals he’d commissioned from local student artists, and the fourth wall was a series of massive doors that accordioned open, turning it into a quasi open-air pavilion.
Inside were dozens of stalls of various sizes, several with their own doors leading to private runs. This was where Richard housed his menagerie. It had started at his first livestock auction, where a young boy had been showing his fourth-place market lamb but wasn’t getting any bidders. Richard had been unable to bear the kid’s disappointed expression and had leaped in with a ridiculously high offer.
Richard was now the proud owner of twelve lambs, eight pigs, seventeen rabbits, two goats, three miniature horses, and one very, very ornery llama… so far. I was pretty sure we’d be ending today with several new additions to the family.
Seeing the smile on Richard’s face as he stood amongst the crowd of people milling around the ranch made it all worth it. I had to admit that I’d been a little worried when he’d given up his inheritance to move out to Wyoming with me. I was afraid that he would tire of country life and wish he were back in the city where he could sparkle and dazzle.
