Epilogue

EPILOGUE

SILAS - ALMOST ONE YEAR LATER

"Easy," I warned as Camille tried balancing Love Muffin toffee bars, a slice of Pete's famous BBQ chicken pizza, and a strawberry margarita from Dos Beckys' table all in one hand. "You're going to drop it all, and my hands are already full."

"I'm still unclear on why you got three margaritas for you and Way," my sister said, navigating past JoJo Reynolds's screaming six-year-old.

"I told you. The third one is for ZuZu."

"ZuZu's at school in California."

I shrugged and took a sip from one of the cups, nearly dropping the tiny plate of nachos balanced on top of one of them. "It's Final Night. She's here in spirit. Besides, now that she's legal, she made me swear to have one in her honor. Who am I to disappoint a sister?"

Camille rolled her eyes as we caught up to Way. "There's Dev. You can give him the extra one. Let it be his last hurrah before roundup."

I reached out for Way to take one of the cups from me. "Oh, forgot to tell you, Way hired someone to help with roundup. He's going to stay in the bunk room in the barn. Just wanted to let you know in case you see a new face on the ranch."

"What about Taza?" she asked in surprise.

It had only taken Waylon a few weeks after landing the AdventureSmash contract—a contract for not one but two races this summer, including the annual GrandSmash event—before he'd finally admitted to not being able to continue both his job as mayor and running the ranch on his own. Dev had offered to take over ranch operations "for the time being," which had quickly turned into "indefinitely" and seemed to be inching happily toward "forever" as far as we could tell. It was a win-win-win so far, and his newfound sense of purpose had given Dev a peacefulness I hadn't seen in him in a long time.

"Taza went back to Jenks," Way explained, reaching for a nacho from the plate I carried. "Mr. Jenks is retiring and finally had to admit the only person willing to take over is Taza."

Her eyebrows lifted. "So Taza's moving out?"

"Thank god," Dev muttered as he joined our group and took the other margarita from my hands. "Kid never shuts up."

Camille grinned at him. "I figured you two were getting together on the sly."

"Camille Nightingale Concannon, a man has standards," he said with the flick of a hand.

I shot him a look. "He doesn't meet yours?"

Dev shrugged. "Not interested. Never was. The day I met him last year, I noticed no fewer than four hookup apps on his phone—which is fine, by the way. You do you. But then don't do me ."

Camille snickered and took another sip of her drink, turning back to me. "So the new hand is staying in the room under Dev's apartment?"

Dev's eyebrows furrowed. "What new hand?"

Way turned to glare at me as I winced and mouthed sorry . I'd been the one tasked with breaking the news to Devon about the new ranch hand.

"Uh…" I tried to figure out the best way to tell him. Dev didn't take to strangers very well, and he was almost as particular about his private space as Way had been when I'd met him. "He kind of fell in our lap. Got a call from a kid down in Boulder. Said he knew horses and was going to be in the area this summer between semesters. It was too good to pass up."

"Why wasn't I involved in the hiring?" he asked, turning his glare on my husband.

Way didn't let the glare intimidate him. "You know anyone in Majestic who can ride and can also start work in less than a week?"

Dev's nostrils flared.

Way nodded. "I'll take that as a no. Besides, it's only for the summer. If he doesn't work out, we'll find someone more permanent in a few months."

"He plays polo," I blurted.

Camille's eyes widened, and Dev's expression turned exasperated. He snapped at Way. "You hired a polo brat to do roundup? Waylon, Jesus."

I kind of loved that Dev was comfortable enough around Way now to speak freely. But at the same time, I was going to appreciate seeing my friend eat crow when he saw how good the new guy was on horseback.

"You were a polo brat," I pointed out.

Dev glared at me. "I only learned polo after stabling my horse at a polo club. And that's how I know most of those guys don't know shit about working a ranch."

Way stood up straighter. "I don't know about the polo thing, but we're desperate now that Taza's gone. If the kid can stay in the saddle and is willing to work long days, that's good enough."

Camille, ever the peacekeeper, tried changing the subject as soon as Sheridan and Bo walked up. "Hey, how's construction coming on your new place, Dev?"

"It's coming." The words were little more than a grunt, but the small, satisfied smile on Dev's lips spoke volumes.

Once Dev had moved from "for the time being" to "indefinitely" sticking around, we'd offered him acreage on the ranch to build his own place, but he'd refused to take any part of the land that had been in Way's family for generations. Instead, he'd taken his time about selecting the right spot, and he'd wound up finding a rare parcel of land for sale that abutted the northwestern edge of Fletcher Ranch. It was a gorgeous spot, and since he owned it outright, he'd be able to keep it as a vacation home even if he changed his mind about living here in Majestic permanently.

"Seems like things are finally settling down." Way leaned his arm against mine. "Don't get me wrong, this past year's brought a whole bunch of good changes, but now it feels like everyone's right where they're supposed to be. Far as I'm concerned, things can stay just as they are for a little while."

"I agree." Sheridan smiled. "With one big exception."

Way stopped with a loaded nacho halfway to his mouth. "What exception?"

Bo wrapped his arm around Sheridan's waist and put his other hand over her lower belly. They didn't even get the words out before Camille squealed and Way's eyes bugged out.

"A baby?" Way asked.

Sheridan nodded. "A baby."

"A baby ?" Way repeated, as if the news of having a baby was something fantastical, only heard about in legends and myths.

I bit back a laugh. "They've been trying for a while," I reminded him before turning to the happy parents-to-be. "Congratulations, that's exciting. When are you due?"

She beamed and began telling us all about it. I noticed Dev melt away from the group the way he sometimes still did when the subject got too… familial. I let him go, knowing he simply wanted time and space to himself.

I noticed Way wasn't saying much, either, so I pulled him aside a little. "Talk to me," I murmured in a low voice.

"No, it's fine."

"Don't ‘fine' me, Mayor," I warned.

He looked everywhere but at me. When he finally met my eyes, I could see his worry. "I don't know anything about babies. What if I'm not a good uncle? What if I can't stop it from crying or can't tell the difference between a hungry cry and a ‘string wrapped around its toe' cry?"

"I… don't know what that second one is."

His face fell. "You're going to be even worse than me at this."

I bit back a laugh. "Babe. We're going to figure it out. Do you think for one minute Aunt Blake is going to let us near this kid without supervision until we learn how to work it?"

Way's forehead crinkled. "Maybe you're right. And my cousin Anna did loads of babysitting when she was growing up, so she knows what to do. Come to think of it, Sheridan helped when ZuZu was little. We have pictures in the albums at home."

I pulled him into my arms and kissed the edge of his mouth. "Does this mean now isn't the right time to tell you I'm pregnant, too?"

His eyes widened. "Do you want kids?"

I blinked at him. "You know I'm joking about?—"

"Of course I do. Answer the question, though. We haven't really talked about it. I don't even know if you like kids."

I shrugged. "I guess I don't really have a strong opinion one way or the other at this point. When I first met you, I would have said my lifestyle wasn't compatible with kids, but now… I mean… if you wanted kids, I'd be up for it. I want you to be happy, Way. And if having kids would make you happier, then of course I'd want kids with you."

He took a deep breath and then smiled wide. "You're trying to get in my pants right now, aren't you?"

"Is it working?"

"Silas Concannon, you could vomit and step in horse shit at the same time, and I'd still want you in my pants."

"That… isn't the come-on you might think it is."

His smile softened. "I love you."

"Do you want kids?" I watched his face closely to make sure I learned the truth regardless of his words.

His eyes sparkled. "I say we use Sheridan as a guinea pig."

I snorted. "Strategic thinking. I like it. We'll consider it an assessment phase."

He nodded. "And we'll analyze the data at various points. Make conclusions and whatnot."

Sheridan grabbed the back of Way's shirt and pulled him out of my embrace. "You going to congratulate me, big brother, or did your irrational fear of babies rear its ugly head?"

I gaped at him. "You have a known fear of babies?"

He flapped a hand at me dismissively. "Not anymore. I'm sure it's fine."

Sheridan glanced at me. "He ran screaming one time when JoJo Reynolds brought little Caden into the cafe in a baby carrier on her chest."

"Eons ago," Way added.

"Two years ago," Bo corrected before licking a drip of ice cream from a cone.

Way scratched the back of his neck. "Those baby carrier harnesses are a little freaky. It looks like you're carrying a hunting trophy on your chest. Or a butterfly pinned to a display board." He snapped his fingers and pointed at me. "Lilliputian Man. You know, the Da Vinci drawing with the arms and legs splayed out? That . That's what it looks like. It's weird."

Everyone stared at him while I tried not to laugh at how adorable he was. "Vitruvian Man," I corrected.

Camille almost spit out her drink. "You ran screaming from a sweet little baby because they were in a sling?"

Foster made his way over after finishing a conversation with Judge Whiteplume near Lake and Jackson's booth. He handed a T-shirt to Camille. "Lake told me to thank you again for your help with Jackson's ankle."

Camille held up the shirt. It was the same Majestic Rocks design Way had given me a year ago but in a different color. Foster must have known how much Camille liked mine.

"That was nice of you," I said, nodding to the shirt.

He shook his head. "Wasn't me. I think Lake only had that one reprinted because Camille wanted one so badly. They'd updated the design, but Jackson said they sold so many last summer that they're confident they can sell both versions."

"What happened to Jackson's ankle?" I asked. Camille wouldn't talk about her patients, no matter how small Majestic was, so I had to rely on town gossip like everyone else.

Way lurched forward and tried to slap a hand over Foster's mouth, but he didn't cover it in time. "Snakebite."

"Motherfucker," Way hissed. "Thanks, asshole."

Foster shoved Way's arm off with a laugh. "What?"

"Now Silas isn't going to go outside all fucking summer."

" He got bit by a snake? " I hissed before pinning my husband with a glare. "Way told me snakes are rare around here."

Sheridan and Camille sighed while Foster simply laughed. "Yeah, no. Not so rare. We probably get, what? A handful of snakebites every summer?"

Sheridan shook her head melodramatically. "As long as you wear your steel pants, you'll be fine, Silas."

I whipped my head toward my husband. "You told her?"

He bit his lip to keep from laughing.

"You're dead to me," I warned.

Bo turned around from where he'd been distracted by a boy selling popcorn. "Speaking of snakebites, didn't Janice Godfrey get bit by one in her garden last week?"

Sheridan punched him in the shoulder, which only made Bo shoot her a wink.

Camille exchanged a look with Way and snorted again.

"Oh, you fuckers," I said, realizing I was being had. "You're making this up."

Way said, "Do you know there are more venomous snakebites in New York than there are in Wyoming?"

"Not in Manhattan," I said with a growl.

"Maybe not. But there are, on average, only twenty-one per year in the entire state of Wyoming. And we've only ever had to treat two at the clinic here in Majestic."

"Two too many," I grumbled.

Camille sighed. "Jackson didn't get bitten by a snake. That's all I can tell you."

Foster nodded. "I was kidding before. He fell off his sex swing."

Camille's jaw dropped open. "That is not true!" I could tell she wanted to tell everyone the truth, but her oath prevented her from saying anything more.

Sheridan looked around before lowering her voice. "I heard it from Aunt Blake, who heard it from Kicky Winshaw that he was carrying Lake up to their bedroom and tripped on the stairs."

Camille's silence was very telling. When she didn't correct Sheridan, we all started laughing and gossiping. It didn't take long for Foster to warn my sister that one day, she'd have to treat her own brother for doing something stupid like that.

"Way, did you hear how Eden did at the North American qualifiers?" Sheridan asked.

Way shook his head. "I haven't spoken to her in a few weeks. She's been pretty busy with her new Petzl endorsement deal. And with Kyle," he added with a grin. "But she'll be here for the GrandSmash, and hopefully, we'll catch up then."

I ran a hand over Way's back and clasped his hip. I knew Way was looking forward to seeing his friend—the woman who'd been there for him many times over the years—and I was happy for him. I even liked Eden—she and I had warmed toward each other over the past year, once she'd accepted that I wasn't going anywhere. The fact that she'd fallen head over heels for a fellow adventure racer had probably helped that along.

The look Way gave me suggested he knew exactly what was going through my mind, but he didn't seem to mind my possessive little display. In fact, he leaned into my touch, his eyes lit with a teasing gleam…

Which was when Natana walked up and slapped a piece of paper against my chest. "Silas Concannon, First Gentleman of Majestic, you've been served."

My stomach swooped as I grabbed for the paper to see what it was.

The familiar Majestic Rodeo logo was splayed across the top of the flyer.

The Majestic Rodeo Presents: Archery Night!

Join us for fun, food, and archery at the Majestic Rodeo

Featuring: Open, Bowhunter Freestyle, Bowhunter "Outlaw", Bowhunter Barebow, Traditional Longbow, and Recurve

Cash prizes and custom buckles! Visit our website for more information and to register.

I glanced up at her. "You challenging me, Ms. Whiteplume?"

"You're dang right I am. After our impromptu target shooting last month, your ass is mine, Concannon." She shot me a wink.

Way's cheeks flushed an attractive pink.

"Cowboy?" I murmured after everyone else was distracted asking her questions about the event. "What's got your dander up?"

"I wouldn't mind seeing you in a rodeo buckle, for one thing."

My eyebrows skyrocketed. "Is that right?"

He shrugged. "I'm thinking just the rodeo buckle. And possibly my hat." My heart did its familiar stampede as I watched my husband's eyes darken. "While I remind you who your ass actually belongs to."

Even after a year, my blue-eyed cowboy managed to surprise me… in the very best and hottest ways. "I think it's time to go home, Mayor Fletcher," I growled.

He grabbed my hand and rubbed his thumb over my wedding ring—the band of gold I'd never been able to remove and now planned to wear forever—then leaned in to whisper against my lips.

"I think you might be right."