Page 219 of Ride the Sky

Finally.

The thunder of hooves startles us.

I open my eyes and smile. “There they are.”

Wyatt lowers his mouth to my ear. “They’re amazin’.”

I stare, awestruck. Those wild horses from Arizona. They’re all still here, including Black Betty. Moonlight casts a pale shadow across the range. Dust clouds bloom in the dim light. Wyatt strokes my hair as we watch the horses sip water from the stream.

I twist into him, meeting those silver-blue eyes. “I love you,” I tell him.

“I love you, Trouble.” He cups my face. The love in his eyes has a warm sun rising in my chest. “So fuckin’ much.”

Our lips meet. I breathe him in as he wraps me in his strong arms. Wyatt’s heart syncs with mine. That beautiful beat that always reminds me I have one life to live and I’m going to do it all with Wyatt. The best piece of my life.

“Thank you,” I whisper when we pull apart.

“Baby, for what?”

Tears pool in my eyes and I smile. “For giving me the wildest ride I could have ever imagined.”

Wyatt laughs softly, his eyes glistening. “For you, Trouble,” he says, his voice low and smoky. “Anything. Forever.”

MANY YEARS LATER

The night before opening day on Runaway Ranch is always chaos.

Especially this year.

An entire decade since Ruby blew into our lives and we officially started running the ranch as, well, an actual fucking ranch.

Ever since Fallon and I moved back home, it’s been an Opening Day Eve tradition. A big family dinner at someone’s house.

This year, it’s our turn.

“Shit,” I swear, hustling around the house and scooping up baby blankets and cowboy boots. In the hallway, I snatch up a pacifier. My gaze drifts. The gallery wall, where, amid the photos of me and Fallon’s rodeo days, is Fallon’s letter. I promised to frame it, and that’s what I goddamn did.

The year Fallon and I moved back to Runaway Ranch, we built a bigger version of Fallon’s cottage. With a wide front-porch and a steeply pitched roof, it even has a hot tub out back. Behind it is our training facility and stables, Montgomery-McGraw Rodeo.

At the slam of the front door, I glance over. My heart speeds up at the sight of my wife. She’s dusty from her ride on the ranch.Attached to her chest is our one-year-old, Ada James. “You get her asleep?”

Fallon’s smile is wicked. “She’s never slept better.”

Fallon rode secretly while pregnant with Ada. As a newborn, the only thing that could stop her from crying was a ride in the saddle. I’ve spent many long nights out on rides getting my baby girl to sleep.

I go to them, kissing Fallon and then grinning down at Ada’s tiny face and long lashes.

I’m a sucker for my wife and daughter. Fuck if I’m not wrapped around their fingers.

I help Fallon unhook the baby carrier, then with Ada securely nestled in her arms, we head into the kitchen.

Fallon’s face is soft as she lays Ada in the bouncer. Watching Fallon become a mother has been the best damn joy of my life. Not only because she’s the best at it—she is—but because our daughters will learn from her what it means to fight. To be fierce. To fuck around and find out.

My gaze sweeps over Fallon’s gorgeous face. Her messy fishtail braid snarled over one shoulder. Those pink cheeks. And her very pregnant belly.

I close the distance between us and rest a hand over her swollen stomach.

Ever since we moved back home, we’ve moved fast. New home. New jobs. A baby. And now another.

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