Epilogue Ivy

Nine years later

" A nd don't be afraid to straighten Scarlett up on the approach. You're the boss, Bean, and make sure your helmet is tight. Have Mama check it."

"I know, Dad. I've got this," Billi says as I finish braiding her long bronze-colored hair down her back.

"You know the course, don't be nervous," he tells her, sounding a little nervous himself.

I smile and suppress a little giggle. Wade's probably told her this at least ten times today alone, but she keeps letting him tell her like it's the first because she's a complete daddy's girl, and his only girl at that.

"What are you laughing at over there, Trouble?" he asks as I secure Billi's hair with a band.

"Go get your helmet so Daddy can watch us check it," I tell Billi. "And grab a couple diapers on your way down."

I stand before him and wrap my arms up around his shoulders, letting my fingers rest at the nape of his neck.

"I'm just sayin' is all, anyone ever tell you you're bossy, Wade Ashby?"

"I can think of a few times I've been told I'm bossy." He leans forward. "And a few times you haven't minded."

The heat of the blush he gives me even after ten years and three kids creeps up my cheeks. He kisses my forehead, then bends down to grab our eleven-month-old son River out of his high chair.

"Stop talking like that, Mr. Ashby, we can't be late today. A girl's first jumping competition is important."

Wade grunts. "Wish she'd chosen something a little less dangerous."

I laugh as I pack up River's diaper bag and toss some toys and snacks in for our five-year-old son, Wyatt. Lord knows it takes a lot to keep that boy entertained. He doesn't sit still for more than thirty seconds most days, which makes chasing him around the ranch Wade's full-time job.

Twenty minutes later, we're rushing because when are you not when you have three kids?

"Let's go, y'all, we're already running late to pick up Grammie from her cabin," I tell them as I usher them to the door to get their shoes on.

My mother has been sober ten years this fall and still lives on the ranch. She even met a nice man who owns the hardware store in town, and she started crocheting again, selling custom blankets as a little side business.

Getting my mother back has been the most incredible gift. She and Mama Jo are the best grandmothers we could ever ask to have for our babies, and they have become the closest of friends.

We head out the door of the home we built the summer Billi turned four. Finding out we were pregnant with Wyatt meant Bluegrass cabin would no longer do the trick, so we carved out an acre near the river and built a modest four-bedroom house on it, then we finally got married in front of all the people we love at the river when Wyatt was two. The other end of the river on Silver Pine's property now houses the guest cabins that Wade added five years ago, to allow for retreats and team-building camps. I don't know how we've managed to do it and stay sane half the time.

After Angel's Wings came in fifth in the derby, we made one more go of it the following year with a direct descendant of Wyatt Sr.'s late horse Rising River and placed second.

Derby dreams gave way to Wade's dreams of adding a hospitality division to Silver Pines, and I spent some years working with the women's abuse shelter in town, hoping I could make a difference in someone's life with my story. There are moments I feel overwhelmed, but mostly I feel abundantly blessed, especially today as Billi heads to her first U-10 competition of the season. Of course, the entire Ashby clan will be there with bells on to support.

The drive from Silver Pines to Almost Heaven Farms in Midway, Kentucky, takes us about an hour, as my mama reads books to the younger two kids in the back of our SUV. When we get there and manage to exit the vehicle, I see CeCe first, holding the hands of two of the three Carter kids and wearing the third. Ruby and Billi instantly pair up when they see each other, being only one year apart; they've always been close. They start heading to go find Scarlett. Quiet, curious three-year-old little Rex wanders behind CeCe picking grass in the beautiful Kentucky sunshine.

"How'd that go, getting the whole crew out the door this early?" CeCe asks, smiling as I approach her and rub little six-month-old Rourie's blonde head. She's nestled right up to her mama, oblivious to the outside world, just snoozing the morning away.

"Probably the same as it went for you." I grin.

"Shitshow," we both say at the same time and laugh.

We maneuver slowly, with Rex toddling in front of us to the seating area by the rails, where the whole family is waiting to take in the competition.

"It is hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk," Papa Dean says as we take our seats. I pass him River. River is his little buddy, and for some reason the bond between an eighty-seven-year-old and our almost one-year-old is strong. He bounces River on his lap as River reaches his chubby arms up and smiles at his Great-Pop. I'll never understand how this old man stays so strong. Wade is convinced he'll outlive us all.

"Great-Pop, you can't fry an egg on the sidewalk," Wyatt challenges him, like it's the craziest thing he's ever heard.

"Don't test him, he'll show you. You'll be left cleaning egg off the driveway, trust me," Cole says to Wyatt, grinning.

"Uncle Cole, are you telling the truth?"

"It's true, I've seen it," Nash adds, as he picks up Rex.

"One year when it was real hot, the power went out and we took a cast iron pan right out to the driveway, cooked us up some breakfast," Wade says to Wyatt.

I smile up at him as the tiniest threads of salt in his pepper hair shine in the summer sun. Somehow, ten years later and he's even hotter, however the hell that makes sense.

"Cool! Can we do it tomorrow?" Wyatt asks.

Jo looks up from her conversation with my mama and Olivia to scold them all and tell them, " she ain't cleaning up their mess. "

Mabel's boyfriend stops paying attention to her for all of three seconds to pipe up from beside her and say that he'll bring some bacon. Cole grunts, not taking Mabel's decision to start dating her high school's quarterback very well.

I roll my eyes as all four men look at each other, shrug and say, "Sure!" at almost the same time.

Mama Jo and I lock eyes over their heads and she mouths to me, "Men."

I smile back. Yes, men. Particularly Ashby men , always getting into mischief.

The show begins and we watch as best we can while we all wrangle our respective kids. Passing them off to each other and chatting until, finally, Billi's name is called.

"Let's go, darlin', you got the boots, wear 'em well," Ginger calls out to Billi, who grins back from her place atop of her horse Scarlett.

Ginger taps her ivory boots and in the ring Billi taps the matching riding ones Ginger bought her, then gives her a thumbs up.

I stand beside Wade as we watch our daughter start her round, her pretty little face furrowed in concentration as she rides, completing her jumps with perfect precision.

"Yes, baby! That's my girl!" Wade mutters under his breath when Billi clears the hardest jump like it was no trouble at all. As she rides out of the ring after her round she smiles up at us, and my heart swells in my chest.

"She's fiery like her mama," Wade says in my ear when he leans down.

I look up and smile at the love of my life. "And stubborn like her daddy," I add.

He kisses me a little too long for a family event.

"Mmm, you smell so fucking good. How many more hours till we're alone, baby?" he whispers.

"Too many, but you know, I thought I saw a closet in the main hall somewhere," I offer, gesturing to the farm's main building as his lips meet my cheek.

"Don't fucking tempt me, Trouble," he growls low in my ear.

"It really doesn't take much to convince me, you know. All you have to do if you can't wait one more second is beg." I look up at him and smile sweetly.

He chuckles, as if he'll never give in, but I don't miss the need in his hands as he grips my waist tight.

As my heart begins to accelerate under his touch, he dips his lips down, and just before they meet mine I hear it: "Mercy."

the end … sort of.