Page 139 of The Lilac River

“I am the Trivia Queen!” she declared, yawning through the words like a monarch after a long campaign.

“You sure are short stuff,” Gunner said, brushing her hair off her forehead. “No one else knows how many legs a ladybug has.”

“Or that the sun is a star, not a planet,” Wilder added, shaking his head. “I still call bullshit on that.”

“And again, language,” I said, wagging a finger at him with a mock scowl.

He only grinned and flopped deeper into the armchair. Gunner, never one to let a moment pass quietly, tossed popcorn at him.

“Alright,” Nash said, standing and swooping Bertie into his arms. “Time for bed, Your Highness.”

“Nooo,” she whined, even as her eyes fluttered. “One more game.”

“You’ve had six,” Nash said, starting up the stairs with her cuddled against his chest. “And you’re about to turn into a pumpkin.”

“But I’m not even tired,” she said, yawning wide enough to disprove the point.

I smiled and started cleaning up, placing cards in a stack, dice in a cup, empty bowls shuffled toward the kitchen. Gunner and Wilder had wandered into the den, still arguing about who cheated the most. Probably both of them.

I had just loaded the dishwasher, and was on my way back to the lounge, when Nash reappeared at the top of the stairs, then walked slowly down, his mouth curved in that soft, secret smile that always made my heart ache.

“She’s asleep,” he said quietly. “With the crown still on her head.”

“Long may she reign,” I replied with a grin.

He held out his hand. “Come with me.”

I didn’t hesitate. The moment our fingers twined together, something in my chest exhaled.

He led me through the front door and out onto the porch, into the stillness of a Colorado night. The stars were blinding, thousands of them, each one sharp and clear against the deep velvet sky. The kind of sky that made you feel small, but in a good way. Like you were part of something vast and infinite.

Without a word, Nash guided me down the steps and across the grass to where the pasture stretched wide and quiet, bathed in moonlight. We stopped near the old fence post. He turned, pulled me close, and wrapped his arms around my waist.

“My girl,” he whispered, his forehead resting against mine.

I closed my eyes, breathing him in. Soap, leather, earth. The smell of home.

“We’re really doing this, huh?” I whispered.

“We’re doing it,” he said. His voice rough with emotion. “For real this time.”

We stood there in the quiet, listening to the chirp of crickets and the breeze rustling the tall grass.

“You don’t know how many nights I stood out here,” he said finally. “Just… staring out at nothing. Wondering where you were. Wondering if you ever thought about me.”

Tears prickled behind my eyes.

“If you were like me…” I said softly, “…then every single day. There wasn’t a day that passed that I didn’t.”

He kissed my temple, holding me tighter.

“You fit here,” he whispered. “Always have.”

I pressed my face against his chest, feeling the slow beat of his heart.

“I missed your brothers almost as much as I missed you,” I admitted, voice catching. “This family… it’s everything to me.”

“You still have it,” he said fiercely. “You have all of us.”

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