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"Let's just say I have a backup plan."

"Always prepared."

"You know me."

And I do.

I know him like I know my own heartbeat now. Know the weight of his silences and the meaning behind his smiles. Know the nightmares that still wake him sometimes and the dreams he's barely letting himself hope for.

Inside, the cabin is warm and welcoming. Candles flicker on the dining table—an unexpectedly romantic touch that makes me raise an eyebrow.

"Caleb's idea," Logan admits, looking slightly sheepish. "Said something about setting the mood."

"For what?"

He doesn't answer immediately, busying himself with plates and silverware. There's a tension in his movements that wasn't there before—subtle, but present.

"Logan?"

He takes a deep breath, then turns to face me. "I had this whole thing planned. Dinner, wine, the works. But..."

"But?"

He reaches into his pocket, pulls out something small and metallic. My breath catches as I realize what it is.

A ring. Simple, elegant, unmistakable in its meaning.

"I've never been good at waiting," he says quietly. "Or at fancy speeches. But I know what I want. Who I want. And if you'll have me..."

I'm moving before he can finish, crossing the space between us in three quick steps.

My hands fist in his shirt as I pull him down to kiss him—hard and desperate and full of everything I can't put into words.

When we break apart, we're both breathing heavy.

His eyes search mine, hope warring with uncertainty.

"Is that a yes?"

I laugh, tears pricking at my eyes. "Yes, you idiot. Of course it's a yes."

The smile that breaks across his face is like sunrise—slow and beautiful and full of promise. He slides the ring onto my finger with slightly shaking hands, then pulls me close again.

"I love you," he murmurs against my hair. "More than I know how to say."

I burrow closer, breathing in his familiar scent. "Show me instead."

His laugh rumbles through his chest. "What about dinner?"

"Later."

His hands tighten on my hips. "Much later."

Outside, the Montana night settles over the mountains like a blanket.

And somewhere, I like to think my father is watching. Seeing the daughter he died to protect finally finding her own way. Her own truth. Her own family.

I'm still standing, Dad. And this time, I'm not standing alone.

THE END