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thirty-six
epilogue
Greyson- Ten Years Later
September 9th
I watched my daughter take her first breath outside the womb eight years ago today. Zoe Renee Lee entered the world with intelligent blue eyes and lungs rivaling even the loudest coyotes at night. She was born to be a Montana heir. With spunk like her mother and adventure in her heart like me, it’s no wonder she’s at home climbing mountains and chasing fireflies in the fields. Her future is bright and there’s not a day that goes by where I don’t thank Scarlett for giving me another chance to be a dad.
But the real MVP goes to Theo—the best big brother out there. At age twenty-three, he’s busy learning from Shelby how to run a ranch so he can take over next year when the old coot finally retires, yet always has time to treat his baby sister to ice-cream or to her favorite movies at the drive-in. He’s grown into a strong, dependable man, one Scarlett and I are incredibly proud of.
Preston, Savy, and their obnoxiously cute brood bring much entertainment to SoS. The twins have taken up archery with Savy, and Alistair just got his driver’s license. You should’ve seen Preston sweat through his suit when the kid went out on his first date and drove. Granted, it was to Forever Mae’s, a literal five-minute drive, but once a dad, always a dad.
Lynn and Isaac franchised Forever Mae’s, opening one up in five locations around Montana and looking to expand into the bordering states. Engelmann remains their forever home. Isaac is still a broody lumberjack, and Lynn teaches all the kids how to make the best chocolate chip cookies, always making an extra batch for me.
Rowan joined the team at SoS as resident photographer, turning our mediocre website into a masterpiece. She used her skills to work with Scarlett on a boudoir photo shoot for our first wedding anniversary. Let’s just say I showed up at Scar’s work and made sure she knew how much I appreciated the gift. Row and Tia got married three summers ago and adopted a baby girl, whom all the females at SoS have taken under their wing to raise as strong and as fierce as they are.
In January, Scarlett and I celebrate our ninth wedding anniversary, a winter celebration just like we envisioned it years ago. Okay, it was probably Savy who persuaded Scarlett to get married in the snow, but I applaud the decision. Through the haze of tears, I watched my beautiful bride, my pretty girl, glide toward me in a gown of pure white perfection. As Preston gave her away to me, I vowed in front of our friends and family to always be by her side, to cherish her and love her for eternity, death being the only way we part and even then, I’d find her in heaven. We stood up there as Shelby blessed our marriage, and right after I stole her soul with a kiss, she leaned up and pressed her lips to my ear, whispering the words I’d never forget. “Your last wish came true. I’m pregnant.”
It’s a simple life we possess, Scar and I, a life we fought for. The pain and heartache, a distant reminder of how far we’ve come and how much we mean to each other. Time will test you over and over again, stretching those bonds, seeing how resilient they really are. After twenty- four years of friendship, nine years of marriage, two kids, and careers we both love, we’ve mastered time.
I’m grateful it’s now on our side.
The last page of my notebook flutters in the cool breeze from the open kitchen window and Chevy, our newest cat, rubs his furry body along my leg, begging for a pet.
Fall, crisp in the air, brings forth the smell of changing leaves, pumpkin-spiced lattes, and the descent into the slumber of winter makes us slow down and appreciate what we have.
Zoe plays outside, chasing Preston and Savy’s golden retriever around the yard, while my thirteen-year-old nieces, Charlotte and Camryn, gather leftover dandelions to make wildflower crowns for the birthday party later this afternoon.
A smile stretches across my face and widens even more when I turn and see Scarlett pad from our bedroom over to me, looking extra sexy in only a pair of mismatched socks pulled up to her knees and my SoS T-shirt from the night before.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” My beautiful wife yawns as she bustles around the kitchen, preparing a cup of coffee. Her favorite, caramel with extra sugar.
Setting the steaming mug down on the island, she slides onto my lap and twines her arms around my neck, laying her head on my chest.
“Morning, pretty girl,” I echo and we remain like this for minutes, hours, just listening to the sound of our heartbeats. As time stalls, wrapping us in its gentle embrace, we hold on to one another, blue eyes to blue eyes, and never let go.
