Page 130 of Dirty Cowboy

When we finally break apart, I see nothing but love in his eyes.

“You look beautiful,” he murmurs, his forehead resting against mine.

I smile so hard, my cheeks ache. “You’re not so bad yourself, cowboy.”

After the ceremony, he leads me to the cherry tree by the river. The tree stands tall and strong, its bark weathered but holding the love of generations before us.

Eric pulls out a pocket knife and hands it to me.

“Time to make it official,” he says, his voice warm.

The bark is rough under my fingers as I carve our initials, the motion slow and deliberate, the weight of the moment settling deep in my bones. When I finish, Eric leans over and adds today’s date beneath the heart.

My throat tightens. We’ve finally etched ourselves into history and into something permanent.

Forever.

He reaches into his pocket and removes the sunflower anklet I lost when I ran after Misty. He lowers to his knees, and fastens the jewelry around my ankle.

I look down, and he looks up. I reach for his hand and I guide it to my belly.

“I have something to tell you,” I whisper, my voice barely above a breath.

He stills. His brows furrow slightly before realization dawns, his expression shifting from confusion to awe as he stands.

“You’re…” He swallows hard, his voice barely more than a whisper. “You’re pregnant?”

Tears well in my eyes as I nod. “Yes, Eric. We’re having a baby.”

His breath hitches, his entire body trembling with emotion. Then, in an instant, he pulls me against him, burying his face in my hair. “You’ve made me the happiest man in the world, Emma.” His voice is raw and thick, breaking on every word. He pulls back just enough to press his lips to mine, slow and deep, as if trying to pour everything he feels into the kiss.

“Shadow’s foal is going to have a new best friend,” he murmurs against my mouth, and I laugh, wiping at the happy tears streaming down my cheeks.

But before we can say another word, sudden commotion erupts in the west.

The sound of frantic shouting reaches my ears. I whip around just as Ethan and Joanne sprint toward a rising column of smoke. Thick, black clouds curl into the sky, billowing from the direction of the Waters’ family home.

My stomach lurches.

Eric’s grip on my hand tightens as panic surges through me.

The joyful buzz of the wedding is drowned out by the crackling flames now licking at the sky, swallowing the house whole.

Eric’s voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper. “No…”

And then he’s running.

I gather my dress and chase after him, my pulse pounding with terror as the fire roars, consuming Eric’s childhood home.

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