Page 82 of Knotting the Cowboys

Wendolyn's perpetually cheerful expression softens. "Not my story to tell, hon. But I will say this—what they have now, with Luna, with the ranch stable again? It's precious to them. They won't risk it lightly."

The weight of her words settles over me. They won't risk it lightly, which means I'm a risk. My presence here, the growing connections, the kiss with Cole, this morning with Maverick—it all threatens their hard-won peace. The thought should make me pull back, rebuild my walls, protect everyone from potential disaster.

Instead, I find myself sinking deeper into their world. Luna plays with my necklace while the men share ranch updates, and I'm struck by how natural this feels. Maverick teases Austin about his coffee being too weak, River quietly fixes a plate for Mrs. Holloway, Cole reviews tomorrow's schedule with easy authority. It's a family, unconventional but unmistakably real.

"She's getting sleepy," Mrs. Holloway observes, watching Luna's eyes droop. "I should get her home for proper bedtime."

"I can take her," Austin offers, but Luna clings tighter to me, whimpering protest.

"Or," River suggests carefully, "Willa could help with bedtime routine tonight. If she wants to learn."

All eyes turn to me, and I realize this is another test. Not of ranch skills or physical capability, but of willingness to integrate into their most precious responsibility. Luna nuzzlesinto my neck, her trust absolute, and my answer comes without hesitation.

"I'd like that. If you'll show me how she likes things done."

The smile that breaks across Austin's face could power the ranch for a week. "Really? That would be—yes. Great. I'll get her bottles ready."

Mrs. Holloway pats my arm as she stands to leave. "You'll do fine, dear. Baby knows good people when she finds them." She eyes the men with grandmotherly sternness. "You boys better appreciate what's landing in your laps here. Second chances don't come often."

The words hang in the air after she leaves, weighted with meaning none of us acknowledge directly. Cole helps Wendolyn with her coat while she chatters about tomorrow's town gossip, but I catch her meaningful looks. Everyone seems to see something I'm only beginning to understand—the shape of what could be, if we're brave enough to reach for it.

As Austin leads me upstairs to Luna's nursery, the others naturally follow. It should feel crowded, four large men in a baby's room, but instead it feels right. River explains Luna's favorite lullaby, Maverick double-checks window locks from habit, Cole lingers in the doorway watching with an expression I can't read.

"She likes her bottle just barely warm," Austin instructs, showing me how to test the temperature. "And she needs her stuffed rabbit—Mr. Hoppy—or she won't settle."

I follow each instruction carefully, aware of their attention but not feeling judged. When Luna finishes her bottle and I shift her to my shoulder for burping, she lets out a surprisingly loud belch that makes everyone laugh.

"Definitely takes after Maverick," River teases, earning a good-natured shove.

The normalcy of it—the teasing, the shared responsibility, the easy affection—makes my throat tight. This is what Pack should be. Not the rigid hierarchy of Iron Ridge, not power plays and calculated affection, but this. Messy and real and worth protecting.

Luna falls asleep in my arms as I rock her, humming tunelessly. The men grow quiet too, something reverent in how they watch. When I finally lay her in the crib, tucking Mr. Hoppy beside her, it feels like crossing a threshold I can't uncross.

"Thank you," Cole says quietly as we file out. "She doesn't trust easily, but with you..."

"It's mutual," I admit, surprising myself with the honesty.

We stand in the hallway, none of us quite ready to separate for the night. The house settles around us with comfortable creaks and sighs, and I'm struck by how much has changed in just one day. This morning I was alone in my room, fumbling toward pleasure I'd been denied. Now I'm surrounded by men who've taught me, protected me, begun to trust me with their most precious charge.

My walls haven't just crumbled—they've been systematically dismantled by patient hands and gentle expectations. And despite every warning screaming in my head, every memory of how wrong it went before, I want this. Want to belong here, with them, in this impossible family they've built from broken pieces.

"Same time tomorrow?" Maverick asks, and it takes me a moment to realize he means morning security rounds.

"Maybe a little later," I suggest, face heating at the memory. "Give everyone time to... wake up properly."

His grin is wicked, but there's warmth beneath it. "Your call, Boss."

They drift away to their evening routines—River to check the horses, Austin to prep tomorrow's medical supplies, Maverick to his perimeter check, Cole to his office for paperwork. But eachpauses to touch me as they pass—a hand on my shoulder, fingers brushing mine, a gentle chuck under my chin. Small gestures that speak volumes.

I stand alone in the hallway, listening to Luna's soft breathing through the baby monitor, feeling the phantom pressure of each touch. Tomorrow I'll learn more about ranching, face whatever challenges they throw at me. But tonight, I let myself imagine what it would be like to stay. To be not just the boss or the obligation, but part of this patchwork family.

To be theirs, and have them be mine, in all the ways that matter.

First Heat Approaching

~WILLA~

My hands are numb where they grip the seatbelt, but there's a heat in my lower belly that I recognize as something far more dangerous than yesterday's want—it's biology betraying me, my body preparing for something I'm not ready to face.

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