Page 114 of One Last Rodeo

I shift Pepper to my other hip and lace my fingers together with Jensen’s free hand. “Want to grab lunch in the cafeteria? I have one more consult in about an hour and then I’ll head home to be with you two.”

“Sounds good.”

We walk down the hallway together as a family, waving at faces that would’ve been strangers two years ago when we first moved from Tennessee to Whitewood Creek permanently. Now they smile at us like family because that's how everything here feels. That’s something I learned: Small towns don’t just give you community. They give you choice. You get to choose your people. And somehow, I ended up with more family than I could have ever imagined.

My sisters live just down the road with their families. And two years ago, when Hayes Walker—chief of the community hospital where I worked years ago—offered me the chance to open the first surgery center here, one I could manage, staff myself, and still take the occasional heart case out of the hospital, I knew it was time to move to Whitewood Creek permanently.

When critical cases that used to fly out to California started rerouting to North Carolina instead, I couldn’t turn them away. And then, just a few months after opening the center, I got pregnant with Pepper and our lives shifted.

She wasn’t a surprise. She was planned. Wanted so desperately by both of us. Something we both knew we needed to wait for until we felt settled. Until this place felt like home.

Here, she’ll grow up surrounded by cousins, aunts, uncles—by people who choose her. People who will love her loudly, support her fiercely, and let her dream without limits or expectations.

And if someday she wants to follow in my footsteps… well. Doctor Pepper,a female doctor,has a nice ring to it.

We settle into a table in the cafeteria, trays of food in front of us. Pepper plays with the mask that’s draped around my neck, tugging at it with delighted focus as she sits on my lap. If there’s one thing I learned quickly, it’s that physical touch comes with the territory of being a mom. And when it’s from the little human I carried for nine months who’s constantly reaching for me—grabbing my fingers, my hair, my face—it doesn’t scare me the way I once thought it might. It grounds me.

I’m so used to it now that when neither Jensen nor Pepper is touching me, I feel the absence of it. I miss it. I crave it in a way that feels instinctual, like breathing.

“So,” I say to Jensen, smiling over at him. He looks so handsome today. Light brown hair messy like he was out riding this morning. Soft eyes shining as he smiles at me and gives me his complete focus, “how were her riding lessons today?”

Jensen takes a bite of his sandwich. “Well, she’s nine months old, so it wasn’t exactly riding lessons,” he says, amused. “But she loved petting all the horses at Uncle Hayes and Aunt Regan's farm. Didn’t you, Pep?”

Pepper lets out a delighted squeal at the sound of her nickname, her hands patting my chest as she leans toward her dad.

My heart swells because another thing I learned fast is how deeply Pepper craves her dad’s love. His attention. His presence. She leans into it without hesitation, never shies away from it. And when she doesn’t have it, she wants it back.

I get that, baby girl.I get it more than you know.

“I bet by next spring she’ll be riding,” I say softly.

Jensen chuckles. “You’re pushing her to ride more than I am.”

“I just know how much it’ll mean to you to have a riding partner.”

He chuckles. “So, you’ve given up on it, then?”

“I can’t ride while I’m doing surgery. Too much risk.”

He nods. “I know. With Hayes’ property next door and the lessons that he’s been giving, I don’t think we’ll have to worry about her not loving riding.” He pauses, then grins. “She named one of the horses Fuzzy.”

“Ugh,” I laugh. “Adorable.” Words I can't believe I'm saying.

“I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“Oh?” I take a bite of my food. “What?”

“You remember what you told me years ago that you’ve always wanted to do?”

I roll my eyes. “I have no idea what you’re referring to.”

His grin deepens. “Two words. Manhattan. Mayhem.”

I set my sandwich down. “You bought us hockey tickets?”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out two ticket stubs. “Lawson and Dani offered to watch Pepper for us next weekend. Front row seats.”

“Stop it.”