Epilogue

Logan wondered if he would always feel a little jealous when Tabby rode another horse.

The mare under her, Poppy, had been training over the fences all winter, and if she was comparatively short and less distinctly marked than Logan, she was still a pretty horse, and she listened to Tabby and jumped joyously.

The steps they did weren't nearly as theatrical as Logan's shows had been, but they were a solid team, and moved together well, nailing every jump.

Tabby and Poppy finished the final course with no faults and the mare gave a nicker of pleasure as the audience burst into applause and Tabby leaned forward to hug her neck and praise her.

They weren't as good as we were, his stallion sniffed, as the pair came out of the ring in triumph.

It was still an impressive show, and Tabby swung down out of the saddle straight into Logan's arms. "We did it," she said joyfully. "We did it!"

"I knew you would," Logan agreed, kissing her and swinging her around in a circle for good measure. Poppy snorted and backed up a few unappreciative steps.

"I'd be happy with any ribbon," Tabby said. "I just really wanted to prove to myself that I had what it took, that it wasn't just Beau that won last time."

"I see how it is," Logan groaned. "Strip me of all my honor and glory. No, it's fine. Never mind my ego in the dust, here. I'm sure I needed some humility."

"You do," Tabby said without mercy. "Have you seen the way you've been strutting around lately?"

Logan thought he'd done a better job hiding his pride, but it seemed like everything was falling into place. His life was taking a shape for perfect happiness, in ways that he never would have guessed possible.

Mason had not only given him his job back when he was human again, but also moved him into an official mentorship, months before he was technically due for it.

Better than that, child services had authorized Logan's application to officially adopt Franzi.

And best of all…

There is the rest of our herd! his stallion trilled as Letisha came through the crowd with Franzi's hand held firmly in her own.

"Congratulations, Miss Swiftwater!" she said, releasing Franzi to run up to Logan and get swept up into the air.

"The bathroom here is a HUNDRED MILES!" Franzi exclaimed.

Logan wasn't sure if she was saying it was a hundred miles away or a hundred miles across inside. He guessed she hadn't seen many public restrooms. "Thanks for taking her," he told Letisha. "I didn't want to miss Tabby's big win."

"Thank you!" Tabby said, giving both girls a swift hug. " And congratulations to you for getting qualified, Letisha! That's amazing progress! I'm so proud of you!"

Letisha blushed and grinned. "What an amazing show! I'm going to go find my mom!" she said enthusiastically. "See you next Saturday!"

"I guess that was a pretty good last ride," Logan told Tabby, lifting Franzi up to sit on his shoulders.

"Not the last ride ever ," Tabby protested. "Just the last one for a few months."

"Six. Six months." Her belly already had a little soft swell to it, barely noticeable beneath her shirt, and Logan could not help smiling down at it. "It'll be worth it."

Our herd, his stallion crowed in delight.

"You're not the one who has to give up half a year of riding and pop a bowling ball out of your…"

"Ms. Swiftwater?"

Logan drew Franzi away to look at more horsies as Tabby accepted congratulations for her win and worked her persuasive magic on a potential client.

They wandered the aisles of the sprawling stable and Logan carried Franzi so she could see the horses over their doors and pet the heads that were offered.

"Uncle Logan?"

"Yeah, kitten?"

"When I'm a flower girl, will you be my dad?"

Logan had made several efforts to explain marriage and adoption to Franzi, but he wasn't sure how much of it she really understood.

"Do you want me to be your dad, Franzi?"

Franzi had a moment of thoughtful stillness that Logan would never have expected to find in a five-year old before he met her. Then she gave a slight wiggle that indicated she wanted down. Logan swung her back down to the ground and his shoulders gave a little ache of gratitude; she was growing like a summer weed and he wouldn't be able to give her rides as a human for many more years.

"I like you, Uncle Logan," Franzi said with a firm nod. "You can be my dad. And Tabby can be my mom and Tara can be my sister."

"You're going to have your own brother or sister," Logan reminded her.

"I don't want a baby. I want Tara to be my sister."

"I don't think that we can just trade kids," Logan said in despair. Then he wondered if Franzi was secretly worried that they would trade her away. He crouched down so he could look her in the eyes. "I love you, Franzi-pants. I love you to the moon and back. I won't ever give you away. I'll love your brother or sister, too, but not more than you. Just the same. You'll both be my kids and I wouldn't trade you ever. Not even for chocolate."

Franzi frowned suspiciously. "What about TOFFEE chocolate."

"Oh," Logan pretended to think. "I might trade you for toffee chocolate."

Franzi's eyes got big, but she grinned and Logan was glad that she seemed to know he was joking. "Nope. Not going to trade you, even for TOFFEE chocolate. Let's go find Tabby and we can trade HER for toffee chocolate."

"Nooooooo!" Franzi wailed, completely along for the ride now. "Tabby has to be my MOMMY."

"Maybe we can turn her INTO toffee chocolate, and then EAT her," Logan suggested. "Yum, yum, yum…"

They pelted back to find that Tabby had bedded Poppy down and collected a fistful of business cards that she flashed at Logan triumphantly. "We're here to eat you," Logan announced, drawing her close and nibbling on her neck .

"Not in front of the children, darling," Tabby demurred.

"Well, Franzi won't let me trade you for toffee chocolate," Logan pouted. "She says you have to be her mom."

Tabby looked down at Franzi with a melting smile. "Aw, Franzi, that's the sweetest. What do you have on your face?"

Logan bent to wipe the mysterious mess from Franzi's face with the back of his sleeve. "Let's go pack up, Mrs. Swiftwater-Kennedy."

"I'm not doing a hyphen," Tabby scolded him, but she smiled. "You could always be Mr. Swiftwater."

"You know, we don't have to limit ourselves to patriarchal traditions. We could pick any names we like. I know a guy in Detroit who can make us new documents for any identity we want."

"That guy folded like a wet paper towel when I sent my investigator after him," Tabby reminded him.

"So I'll probably get a really good deal on it," Logan teased. "Who do you want to be? Mrs. Rockefeller? Mrs. Monroe? You could change your first name, too."

"I'm not going to be Marilyn Monroe," Tabby laughed. "We're both taking Franzi's name. I'm going to be Mrs. Kennedy . Your wife. Your one ."

Logan had to catch her up for a kiss for that, of course. "I love you, Tabby Whateveryourlastnameis. I love you forever."

"I'm bored," Franzi complained. "Can we go?"

Herd , his stallion nickered happily. Our mate, our filly, and our foal. Forever.