Page 140 of Promised to the Cowboy

Our daughter rolls beneath my ribs, and I place my hand over her. “Ready.”

Mom walks beside me.

The path from the house to the barn is lined with low lanterns and the small living arrangements Kitty built from moss, succulents, and pieces of weathered wood. In the daylight, they look like tiny patches of the mountain brought down to mark the way.

The air is warm, and the wind moves softly through the grass. Beyond the fence, Chance stands with her head over the rail, watching me approach.

The barn doors are open, and everyone I love is waiting inside.

Daniel stands beside Delaney, his hand resting at the small of her back.

Ethan and Jenna are next to them, Ethan wearing glasses and already looking suspiciously emotional.

Henry holds Max against one shoulder while Shay quietly tries to remove a fistful of straw from their son’s hand.

Angus stands close behind Luna, scarred face softened whenever he looks at her.

Tom has one arm around Kitty. His other hand is empty. I check. No goat lead.

Ben stands near Jacob, the two brothers shoulder to shoulder.

Wire is at the back beside the veterans.

Caleb leans against a post with his hat in his hands, weight shifted carefully off his bad knee.

Maggie takes the seat in the front row beside two empty chairs with small bunches of wildflowers resting on them. Ruth’s chair. Caroline’s chair. Their presence acknowledged.

Then I see Gabriel, and everything else disappears.

He stands beneath the old central beam in a dark suit that fits across his shoulders and pulls slightly when he breathes. He’s not wearing a tie because he said it made him look like he was appearing in court. His hair curls at his nape. His jaw is shadowed.

One blue eye. One green. Both fixed on me.

Jacob stands beside him.

Gabriel’s hand rests briefly over the device beneath his collarbone, an unconscious check.

Then he sees me notice and lowers it.

My feet stop.

Mom’s arm brushes mine. “You good?”

“No.”

She smiles. “Perfect.”

I take another step. Then another.

Gabriel doesn’t look away. By the time I reach him, his eyes are wet.

I hold out my hand, and he takes it carefully.

Mom kisses my cheek and whispers, “You chose well.”

I smile. “I did.”

She squeezes Gabriel’s shoulder before taking her seat beside Maggie.