"Good. You’re coming home with me tonight," I say. "Tomorrow, I will make you two breakfast, and we can tell Emma. By dark, your boots will be by my door and your books on my shelf."
She tilts back to look at me. "You forgot the fairy lights."
"I will string them over the porch," I say.
She laughs and sets her forehead against mine for a second that feels like a blessing.
The door swings open, and Finn steps out with Zach at his shoulder.
Zach sticks out his hand to Kassi. She takes it, and he squeezes once. "Welcome to the mess," he says. "It is mostly good."
She smiles, and the weight in my chest that I had when I got here finally disappears.
I am ready. For morning. For one last move. For public and permanent. For us.
Epilogue
Finn
I’m still hearing the echo of Asher's voice long after he hands the mic back. The band starts a new song, something easy with a fiddle that walks instead of runs, but the room is not the same room it was five minutes ago.
I find the bar and ask for water because I have already had two longnecks, and I want a clear head if anything sideways starts. Zach drifts up beside me. We don’t look at each other. When I tap the bar twice, he taps back. That is enough.
Across the dance floor, I catch Parker McCrae near the back corner, elbows on the rail, eyes scanning the room like she does when she works a pasture. She now owns the little spread east of us. Her aunt had enough of winter and moved south. I make a note to check in on how the custody battle with her son's grandparents is going.
Parker looks up and catches me looking. She doesn’t smile, but one brow lifts in a challenge. Holding her gaze, I raise my glass a little. When she tips her hat, I feel something in my chest lean forward. I remind it to slow down. My family tempers just welded themselves back together, and I’m not about to go stirring the pot with anyone else.
Ben slides in on my other side, all clean lines and country man polish that still cannot hide the ranch kid underneath. With him is Troy McCord, who used to ride barrels faster than physics should have allowed back when we were on the junior circuit. I was never sure why he left, but he seems to be back in town now. Troy shakes my hand and gives Zach a nod.
Ben lets out a low breath and looks toward the stage. "I was not expecting that."
"None of us were," I say. "He meant it."
Zach grunts. "He always does."
Ben leans an elbow on the bar. "Kassi saved your ranch," he says, like he is reading a fact into the record. "Those maps and the timing. We could not have pulled that lever without her."
"We know," I say. The words sit easily now. "We didn’t know at first, but we know now."
Troy keeps his voice low. "I heard chatter about a project outside county lines. Testing crews, temporary power at the mill, andtrucks that spend more time idling than driving. Same names keep circling. They are not done, but they are spooked."
"Good," Zach says. "I like spooked."
"Spooked animals jump fences," Ben says. "Which is why I would like everyone to keep watch. Cade is keeping his ears and eyes open as he travels the countryside visiting all his clients. I’m filing what I can without tipping our hand. If they push again, we will be there to meet them with more than words."
I look past him and see Cade cutting through the crowd. He has dust on his boots, and my guess is he came straight here after a late call today. He sees us and angles over, dips his head, and orders a Coke—the move of a man with a long drive home.
"South fence at Delaney looks clean," he says. "Those white flags are gone. Not trampled but pulled. Tire prints up by the old cottonwoods. Someone loaded up quietly." He glances toward Asher and Kassi, who are turning a lazy circle with her head on his shoulder. "He needed that," Cade says. "All of you needed that."
"Town needed it too," Ben says.
Cade sips his Coke and tips it toward me from a few seats down the bar. "You boys good?"
"We will be," I say. "He said what needed saying."
Cade nods once.
From the corner of my eye, I see Parker leave her post and step down to the floor. She cuts along the rail, stops to talk to two older boys from the co-op, then moves again. She is coming in our direction, but not fast. I feel like a fool wanting to square up my shoulders. But I do it anyway.