Once me and Amy finally quit playin’ cat‑and‑mouse with our feelin’s, somethin’ shifted between us. In a big way. And there weren’t no pretendin’ otherwise.
We both swore we’d take it slow.
We meant it.
Dead serious.
And we still went and failed spectacular.
With her cabin gone, she stayed at my place. In the guest room, before anybody gets funny ideas. My Pa raised me better’n that. Now, if she ever decided she wanted somethin’ else, I sure as hell wouldn’t turn her away — but ‘til then, she deserves to feel safe. Last thing I’m gonna do is make her think I’m anything like that sorry excuse for a man she used to be with. That sunnovabitch still lives in her head, and not in the good way.
We took the kids out for a picnic once, showin’ Amy the lay of the land. Savannah and Beau were off splashin’ in the river, and she nodded off against me. Soft, peaceful. Then that nightmare hit. The things she muttered… the way she screamed, then cried in her sleep…
If I ever cross paths with that waste of skin, I ain’t promisin’ a damn thing about my temper.
Well, that day finally rolled ‘round. Time for my bi‑weekly run to San Sequoia with Beau and Savannah, and Amy was comin’ along — not just ‘cause I didn’t wanna leave her wranglin’ that ranch alone, but ‘cause Connor needed to take another look at her shoulder. Brad told me what to watch for before they flew out, but hell, I ain’t no doctor. I can patch up a horse just fine, but a human? And not just any human — Amy? That’s a whole different deal.
She was nervous as a long‑tailed cat in a room full of rockin’ chairs, and truth be told, so was I. We all know the Camerons are… well, they’re somethin’ else. Good people, sure, but still. At the end of the day, I’m the ex son‑in‑law showin’ up for the weekend with a woman who ain’t Bri. Bri wasn’t gonna be there — just me, Amy, and the kids — but that don’t make it any less awkward.
Folks like to say the Camerons are still my family, and maybe in some ways they are, ‘cause that’s just the kinda people they are. But reality is reality. Papers got signed, lives moved on, and I’m not part of that circle no more. So walkin’ in there with Amy at my side… yeah. My stomach was doin’ somersaults, even if I tried to play it cool.
San Sequoia
Seaglass Haven estate
By the time we pulled up the long drive to Seaglass Haven, Amy had gone real quiet in the passenger seat. Not the “I’m tired” quiet — the “I’m tryin’ not to panic” quiet. Her eyes were glued to the house like she was lookin’ at a postcard come to life. The gravel under the tires sounded too loud in a driveway that probably cost more than my whole ranch. The place always hits me, even after all these years — the white stone glowin’ in the late afternoon sun, the glass walls catchin’ the Bay like they were holdin’ it hostage. The red bridge off in the distance framed just so, like the Camerons paid the city to move it for aesthetics. Guesthouses tucked into the side like they sprouted naturally.
Amy’s breath hitched when she saw the one by the water. “That’s… that’s not real,” she whispered. “That can’t be their place!”
“’Fraid so,” I said. “They don’t do small.”
I parked, killed the engine, and before I could even get ‘round to Amy’s door — Beau jumped out the truck and went straight to haulin’ our bags out the back like the good kid he is — the other side of the backseat exploded open.
Savannah launched herself outta that truck like she’d been spring‑loaded.
“Savannah!” I tried, but hell, that was pointless. That girl was gone.
“GRANDMA! GRANDPA!” she hollered, boots hittin’ the driveway hard enough to rattle gravel. She tore across the yard, braids flyin’, arms wide — barely givin’ Chase and Hailey time to get through the door.
Hailey let out a delighted squeal and bent down just in time for Savannah to slam into her legs. “Oh, sweetheart! My goodness, look at you — you got taller again!”
Chase leaned down next, scoopin’ her up with a grunt. “Hey, peanut. Missed you. Has been too quiet around here.”
Savannah kissed his cheek, then wriggled free and spun toward the house. “Can I go play with Snuffins? Please? Pleasepleaseplease?”
Hailey laughed. “Of course you can. He’s in the backyard. He’s been moping all morning waitin’ for you.”
Savannah didn’t need tellin’ twice — she bolted inside, yellin’, “SNUFFINS! I am back!” like she was callin’ a warhorse into battle.
Hailey came over to us then, kissin’ Beau’s cheek as he carried the bags in. Chase grabbed a few from him, helpin’ without bein’ asked, while Hailey turned that warm smile on me — the one that makes you forget who these Camerons really are.
“You’re here!” she said, pullin’ me into a tight hug and kissin’ my cheek like she was my momma, not my ex‑wife’s. Then her eyes landed on Amy. “So, you are Amy. I’ve heard so much about you — don’t worry, all good. Sweetheart, welcome. You poor thing, look at you. Brad said you got hurt bad — come inside, I made fresh coffee and some finger foods. Well, I didn’t make them, I always hated cooking, so I had to find me a rich man to marry so I can have someone do it for me.”
She giggled, winkin’ at Chase, who was comin’ back from helpin’ Beau. He grinned. “Yup, my trophy wife right there.”
“Well, you sugar daddy you, I do a little more than just look good on your arm, Gump.”
“Yeah, you’re pretty decent in the sack too…” Chase fired back, barely dodgin’ her slap on his rear. The two of them carryin’ on like that set the tone, and I saw Amy relax a little, gigglin’ under her breath.
She still looked startled, but she pulled herself together with that polite East Coast composure she does so well. “Thank you for having me. It’s… beautiful here. Beautiful home. And you are… beautiful.” she blurted at Hailey, then went red as a beet.
Hailey winked, wrappin’ an arm around her — careful of her injury. “Aww, Jackson, I might just keep her! Bri and Brad weren’t lyin’, she is absolutely precious!”
Before I could even roll my eyes, Chase stepped in to hug her too. Hailey let go so her husband could take his turn — tall, broad‑shouldered, shaggy black hair fallin’ just right like he’d rolled outta bed into a photoshoot. Tattoos peekin’ from under a worn band tee. Grunge rock royalty, even if he pretends he ain’t.
“Sorry about my wife,” he said. “She doesn’t get out much. Welcome to our humble abode.”
Amy froze like she’d just seen a ghost from her teenage bedroom wall. Her lips parted. No sound came out. I swear her soul left her body for a second. She just stood there, Chase’s arm slung casual around her good shoulder, while he turned to me.
“Jackson, kiddo, come here and greet us. Since when are you shy or rude, cowboy?”
Beau came back out just as I finished hugging his grandparents. Chase stood beside Hailey, chewing gum with that same ageless, too‑cool ease he’d had back when he was headlining festivals. He flicked his eyes toward Amy, then back to me, already wearing that smirk that meant he was about to start something.
He said something about it being a good idea bringing Amy along so she could get a breather of civilization before I dragged her back to the uncomfortable dustbowl I call home — or something along those lines. He and Hailey never liked Chestnut Ridge, and ever since the Patches incident, they’d taken every chance to remind me of it.
I could still picture it: me cussing out that stallion for damn near kicking a fence board loose, and Hailey whipping around like I’d personally insulted her honor. “Excuse me?” she’d snapped, fully ready to throw hands with her own son‑in‑law until Bri managed to explain the misunderstanding — wheezing with laughter, snorting, absolutely no help at all.
Chase popped his gum now and motioned us inside. “Yeah, come on in, you two. Enjoy some creature comforts for a while. Sure as hell don’t have much of that out at his ranch.”
“We find other creatures fer comfort, Grampa,” Beau smirked, strollin’ past him just as Hailey grabbed her grandson’s face and kissed his cheek.
Chase laughed, pullin’ Beau into a hug. “Speakin’ of, when are we ever gonna meet that little girlfriend of yours?”
“Ya gotta come to the Ridge for that, Grampa. Cheyenne don’t feel comfortable comin’ here. Too fancy fer her.”
“I just might! Gotta see which little girl is crazy enough to put up with one of those Kershaw men, next edition.”
Amy made a noise that might’ve been a greetin’ or a small internal death. Hard to tell.
Then—
“DADDY!”
Briony shot out the door like a firecracker, her perfectly styled hair flyin’ behind her, eyes bright, and slammed into me so hard I had to plant my boots not to stumble. She smelled like her mama’s perfume and Hailey’s shampoo — familiar, safe, home.
“Hey, baby girl,” I laughed, liftin’ her up a little. “Missed ya somethin’ fierce.”
She pulled back, beamin’, then turned to Amy with that polite, practiced smile she learned from her mama. “Hello. Nice to see you again.”
“Thank you, you too,” Amy said softly, awkward as a newborn foal.
Briony nodded — respectful, but guarded. Same look she’d given every woman I’d so much as looked at too long since her mama. Not mean. Just… cautious. Protective. My girl never was too keen on the idea of her daddy not bein’ alone forever.
Beckett appeared behind her, hands shoved in his pockets, shy smile on his face. “Hey, Mr. Kershaw.”
“Hey, kiddo,” I said. “Good to see ya.” Which was a lie. Just like Briony had her reservations about any new woman at my side, I still couldn’t wrap my head around my sweet baby girl datin’. And I’d already learned the hard way they do a lot more than just hold hands.
He nodded at Amy too, polite as always, holdin’ out his hand. Amy shook it. “Hello, I’m Beckett. Briony’s boyfriend.”
She took it and shook it “Amy.”
Somewhere in the backyard, Snuffins barked loud enough to shake the windows — Savannah’s delighted shriek answerin’ right back.
And just like that, we were standin’ on the Camerons’ porch — me, my kids, Amy, and the two people who used to be my in‑laws but somehow still feel like family — all of us tryin’ to pretend this wasn’t awkward as hell.
But it was. Lord, it was.
And yet… it felt like somethin’ shiftin’, too. Somethin’ new. Somethin’ good.
Well, for what it was worth, the hardest part was over.
Later
The rest of the afternoon passed in that easy Cameron way — Hailey fussin’ over everyone, Chase tellin’ stories that made Amy laugh and anecdotes that made her blush even though she was tryin’ not to, Briony glued to one side, Amy to my other, Beckett helpin’ Beau with somethin’ on his phone, Savannah runnin’ around like she owned the place playin’ with Chase and Hailey’s dog Snuffins.
Amy stayed close to me, takin’ everything in with wide eyes. Every now and then she’d whisper somethin’ like, “I can’t believe this is real,” and I’d squeeze her hand just to steady her.
Connor swung by for a minute too — tall, broad-shouldered, long blond hair tied back, jaw sharp enough to cut glass, eyes like ice water. He looked like he stepped out of a damn magazine and into a hospital drama. Even the way he held the medical kit made him look like he was about to save a life on live TV. He checked Amy’s shoulder, said it looked good but he’d redo the dressing in the mornin’. Amy nodded at everything he said like she was bein’ knighted.
Soon as he stepped out the door to go home, he had swung by after his hospital shift, she leaned in close to me, eyes wide, voice barely a whisper.
“Jackson,” she hissed, “is everyone in this family gorgeous?! How is a girl not supposed to feel like trailer trash around them?!”
I choked on a laugh. “Ain’t nobody thinkin’ that but you.”
She shot me a look like I’d personally offended physics. “Are you kidding? Your ex‑wife is stunning. Your daughter is stunning. Your ex‑in‑laws are both gorgeous. And now that—” she waved a hand in the direction Connor had gone, “—that Dr. McDreamy situation is your ex‑brother‑in‑law?! You really have to start giving me a heads‑up! I seriously feel like I am being punked here.”
I shrugged. “Camerons are just built different, I guess. Ya said ya liked Chase when ya were growin’ up, so I figured ya knew what he looked like. And everyone knows about his … umm …special condition, so figured ya knew he wasn’t agin’.”
She groaned into her hands. “Okay, yes, but I swear to God, if any more handsome celebrities walk in, I’m leaving. I was already struggling with self-confidence before all this.”
That one damn near made me lose it. Grinnin’, I leaned in, kissed her cheek, and whispered, “Well, then I best tell ya Bri’s got a sister who’s an attorney, and she’s married to an actor. Ever heard of Jasper Hargrave? They sometimes are here when we come by, guessin’ not this weekend. Maybe next time.”
Her head snapped up so fast I thought she’d hurt her shoulder again. “Oh my God. How can you be cool as a clam and also know all those people?! That’s just insane, Jackson!”
I grinned. “Darlin’, I just married into ’em. Rest is their fault. Quit frettin’. Yer fine, everything’s fine and they all love ya.”
When the sun started goin’ down, Hailey clapped her hands together. “Alright, you two. I had the poolhouse made up for you. Fresh linens, stocked courtesy fridge, everything you need. Jackson, I figured you’d want some privacy with Amy here. I know you usually prefer to stay in the main house near the kids, but this time just take the poolhouse. Beau and Savannah will be fine staying in the main house with us.”
She grinned and winked, and Chase — who’d been strummin’ on his guitar — hit a dramatic boom‑chicka‑bow‑wowwwww chord and let it sustain way too long, eyebrows wigglin’ like he was tryin’ to summon the spirit of bad innuendo itself.
I just rolled my eyes, while Amy’s eyes went wide, her face goin’ the color of a pomegranate. “Oh — that’s really not necessary—”
“Nonsense,” Hailey said, waving her off. “You’re injured, you’re tired, and you’re in strange surroundings. This gives you some distance without being too far away. And we’re not judging — or assuming – anything, right, Gump?!” She shot a look at Chase.
“Maybe you’re not, Patches,” he said, grinnin’ like the devil, “but I sure as hell am assuming they’re both young and freshly in love. Meanin’ they use every moment they think nobody’s lookin’ for…” He strummed another long, ridiculous bow wowwwww for emphasis.
Amy made a tiny strangled noise, somewhere between a gasp and a mortified squeak, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek not to laugh. Had to be rough havin’ your teenage crush sittin’ there makin’ innuendos at ya.
Hailey groaned. “Ignore him. He can’t help it. Gutter mind and potty mouth are genetic.”
Chase shrugged. “Trust me, you’ll sleep better out there. And I am using the term ‘sleep’ very loosely …”
Briony rolled her eyes. “You’ll only hope he wears you out with what Grampa thinks, ’cause Dad snores.”
“The hell?” I muttered, stunned hearin’ that kinda thing outta my little girl — who wasn’t so little anymore.
“Like a chainsaw,” she added, sweet as molasses.
Amy laughed — soft, nervous, but real — blushin’ again.
Honest to God truth was, we hadn’t gone past spirited kissin’ yet, but that was nobody’s bee’s wax, and the Camerons were already writin’ their own damn storyline about what we did or didn’t do — includin’ my own daughter. And I knew better than to try correctin’ it. ’Bout as pointless as explainin’ algebra to a goat.
Hailey leaned in, kissed my cheek, then gave my leg a little pat — that soft, motherly kinda tap she does without even thinkin’, like she forgets I ain’t actually one of hers. “Go on, get settled. We’ll see you in the morning. Show her the ropes. Be a good host, seein’ how you practically live here.”
So I pulled Amy up off the couch, told everyone goodnight to the sound of yet another one of Chase’s innuendo‑drenched guitar riffs — man can’t resist a chance to show off — and with one arm wrapped around her waist, I walked her down the path toward the guesthouse.
The pool shimmered under the lights, throwin’ reflections across the stone like we were walkin’ through water. The whole backyard looked like somethin’ out of a magazine spread — all soft glow and perfect landscaping — and the skyline across the Bay lit up the night like a damn postcard. The red bridge cut across the water like a ribbon, bright and bold and beautiful.
And there I was, walkin’ beside Amy in all that quiet, feelin’ like the whole world had shifted just a little under my boots.
Amy slowed to a stop, eyes huge.
“That is what they call a poolhouse?! That is bigger than your entire cabin! My old cabin probably fit in the bathroom of that thing!”
“Yeah,” I said, tryin’ not to laugh. “Just looks small compared to the main house. Think they got eight or nine bedrooms in there, all but two with ensuite bathrooms. Everythin’ looks small compared to that.”
She stared at the guesthouse like it might sprout legs and walk away. “Oh, good grief. I thought I lived upscale before. But never anything even remotely close to this. Holy shit, Jackson.”
I watched her take it all in — the lights, the water, the view, the quiet — and somethin’ in her face shifted. Awe, nerves, wonder, fear… all tangled up.
And that’s where the night really began.
First, she couldn’t make up her mind which of the two bedrooms she wanted. Then she microanalyzed the entire damn house. “THAT is what they call a poolhouse? A POOLHOUSE? That is upscale living compared to what I had back in San Myshuno – and I thought I was balling then – not to mention what I had after. My tiny little cabin seems like an outhouse compared to this. Well, when it was still standing. This is crazy!”
When we were fixin’ to get ready, I let her have the bathroom first, and she came out a good dozen times holdin’ somethin’ under my nose she just couldn’t believe they’d provide for guests. I didn’t know one brand from another — shampoo was shampoo and toothpaste was toothpaste to me — but she got all excited about it. Took her forever to be done with the fangirlin’ so I could take a shower and get undressed.
I was already in bed when she knocked — soft, hesitant, like she wasn’t sure she had the right door. I didn’t think nothin’ of it, just answered.
The door opened slow, and there she was — hair a mess, eyes wide, lookin’ like she’d talked herself in and out of comin’ down that hall a dozen times. Her good hand was twistin’ the hem of her shirt like she was tryin’ to wring the nerves out of it.
“Jackson… did… did I wake you?” she whispered.
“Nah, wasn’t asleep yet. What’s up? Shoulder buggin’ ya? Need me get ya yer meds?”
“No, I… I can’t sleep. Not the pain, I can’t even feel that right now. I am so… I don’t know what to call this feeling. Jackson, can I maybe…” She pointed at me and the bed.
I didn’t make her finish. I just lifted the blanket.
Relieved, she slipped in beside me, careful of her shoulder, and curled up like she’d been cold for a long damn time.
I told myself that was enough. Just hold her. Just let her sleep. Just be steady for her. She’s had a rough couple days of late, not to mention the rough weeks before that. Bri’s words floated into my head — show her what a good man looks like.
But then she looked up at me — really looked — and whatever resolve I had left just… gave.
We kissed. Slow at first. Then not slow at all.
And the rest… well, that’s ours. But it felt right. Too right. Scary right. Guess Chase was onto somethin’ with his damn innuendos after all.
After, she tucked herself against me like she belonged there. And hell if I didn’t feel the same. For a long moment neither of us said anything. Then, barely above a whisper, she said, “Thank you for not making this weird, I know this is so damn fast but … I really needed you tonight.”
And that was it. That was the thing that blew my damn heart wide open.
Home on the Range
Back in Chestnut Ridge, we tried to take it slow. We really did. But once you cross that line, it’s damn near impossible to pretend it ain’t blurred into oblivion. And once you had a taste, you’re always wantin’ more. I sure was. Hadn’t realized how hungry I’d been for that kind of closeness with a good woman again — and hell, I wasn’t even the one initiatin’ most of the time. Bri’s words kept rattlin’ ‘round in my head about me needin’ to feel a good woman again.
She just moved into my bedroom. We didn’t talk about it, didn’t plan it — just happened. Kids didn’t say nothin’ about it neither.
Mornings turned into the four of us cookin’ together, like a family — her learnin’, me pretendin’ I wasn’t charmed outta my damn mind watchin’ her try to flip pancakes with one good arm. And she picked up cookin’ fast. You showed her somethin’ once, maybe twice, and she had it down. She had a whole lot more talent for cookin’ than she did for fixin’ cabins or fences, let alone horse care. But she was learnin’ that too. Slowly.
Evenings turned into her leanin’ against me on the couch, her head on my shoulder, my hand on her knee, both of us pretendin’ we weren’t countin’ the minutes till Beau and Savannah went to bed.
Once they did, so did we. But we didn’t waste too much time sleepin’.
And the cabin… Lord, that cabin of hers. I didn’t have no time to fix what little was left, but I did anyway.
She kept flippin’ back and forth about sellin’ it once it was fixed or keepin’ it. Guess wakin’ up homeless from one day to the next after livin’ with her ex for seven years’ll do that to a girl, so I didn’t think nothin’ of it. If she wanted to keep it just to know it was there if she ever felt she needed it, that was fine by me.
Chayton often came to help me rebuilt her cabin, said nothing, but kept grinnin’ like he’d won a bet. Beau helped too, kept smirkin’ like he knew somethin’ I didn’t. Savannah seemed pleased to have a female in the house.
It felt like a family. It felt easy. It felt… right.
Then came the crack in the surface.
It happened one night after dinner. Kids were doin’ homework, she was dryin’ dishes with her good arm, and I was puttin’ leftovers away. We’d been filling the quiet like we always did lately — asking each other the kinds of questions people usually learn over years, not weeks, trying to make up for the fact that we barely knew each other and somehow already ended up living like a couple. How were you in school. Who’d you go to prom with. What’d you want to be when you grew up. Favorite color, favorite meal, favorite song — that sorta thing. All that small stuff that shouldn’t matter but somehow does when you’re trying to catch up to your own feelings.
She said it so soft I almost missed it.
“Jackson… did you ever think about having another child?”
I didn’t think. I just answered.
“Nah. Three’s plenty. I’m too old for startin’ over. I damn near burned myself out raisin’ Savannah alone. I don’t know where it all would’ve ended up for all of us had Connor not stepped in when he did. I’m glad I’m outta the hardest years with her. I don’t need that again.”
A truth.
But the way she went still — the way her eyes dropped — the way her whole face shuttered — I knew I’d stepped on somethin’ fragile.
She excused herself early. Said she was tired. Said her shoulder hurt.
Once the kids were in bed, she was already asleep.
Next mornin’, she told me she decided she wanted to move back to her cabin once it was finished.
Not sell it. Not stay with me. Move back.
I felt it like a punch. Didn’t show it, but I damn sure felt it.
“Thought ya might stay,” I said, tryin’ to keep my voice steady and hide my disappointment. I hated the idea.
She smiled — small, sad, polite. The kind of smile that ain’t a smile at all.
“I need my own space,” she said. “Just for a while. And I think you need yours too. I mean, I’m just up that ridge, not far. We’ll still see each other a lot.”
And I nodded, ’cause what else was I supposed to do?
But somethin’ in me sank. Somethin’ in her had already pulled away.
And I didn’t know why. Not yet.
The Choice That Wasn’t One
I tried lettin’ it ride. I really did.
Told myself she just needed space. Told myself she was overwhelmed, tired, still healin’. Told myself a whole damn list of excuses that sounded real smart in my head and real stupid in my chest.
But the truth? Her sayin’ she wanted to move back to that cabin… it festered.
And once you notice somethin’ shift, you can’t un‑notice it. The way she pulled back a little. The way she’d kiss me but her mind was somewhere else. The way she’d curl up on the far side of the bed like she was tryin’ not to take up space.
Intimacy got… strange. Not gone. Just different. Like she was holdin’ her breath around me.
After a week of that, I couldn’t take it no more.
One night, after the kids were asleep, I found her sittin’ on the porch, starin’ out at the ridge like it held all the answers she didn’t wanna say out loud.
“Amy,” I said, keepin’ my voice soft, “what’s goin’ on with you?”
“Nothin’,” she said too quick. “I’m fine.”
“Bullshit.”
She flinched. “Jackson, please don’t—”
“I ain’t mad,” I said, crouchin’ down in front of her. “I’m worried. You been pullin’ away from me. I can feel it. And I ain’t the type to pretend I don’t.”
She shook her head, eyes shiny. “It’s nothing. Just… stress. I’m tired. I’m overwhelmed. It’s a me‑problem. Just let it go.”
“No,” I said, gentle but firm. “I ain’t lettin’ it go. Not when it’s eatin’ you alive. Tell me.”
That’s when she broke.
Not a little. Not a tear or two. She collapsed forward into me, sobbin’ so hard she couldn’t breathe right. Clingin’ to me like she was drownin’ and I was the only thing keepin’ her above water.
And right then, I knew she hadn’t gotten tired of me. She was scared. Terrified.
I rose, pullin’ her up with me, then sat down in the rocking chair and drew her into my lap.
I held her, stroked her hair, whispered whatever came to mind just to keep her anchored while gently rockin’ with her.
When she finally calmed enough to talk, she whispered, “You’re not gonna like it.”
“Try me.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “You’ll think badly of me. You’ll hate me and kick me out.”
“I won’t,” I said. “Promise. Amy, told ya before, I ain’t him. I ain’t never gon’ be him. Ya said it yerself, normally when ya hear someone’s divorced, they are barely civil. Ya seen how my ex-wife and I are. I know I ain’t no big prize, but I ain’t all that bad neither.”
She made me swear it twice before she finally spoke.
“When you said you didn’t want more kids,” she whispered, voice breakin’, “it felt like… like the final chapter with my ex all over again.”
My stomach dropped.
“I know, I heard you. You are not him. And I know you are not. But I always wanted kids,” she said. “Always. But he didn’t, said he wasn’t ready and neither was I. And I kept puttin’ it off because he said we had time. Because he said our careers mattered more. Because he said later. And then later never came. And now I’m thirty‑two and I want a family more than anything and it feels like I ruined my whole life by waiting cos now I am single and homeless, I have no job, no money, I have nothing.”
“Not true. Ya got a home if ya want it. And ya got me. Ain’t much, but it’s somethin’.”
She wiped her face, breathin’ hard.
“It’s everything. When I met you,” she whispered. “At a time I didn’t think I could ever trust a man again, especially not so soon, you just … I don’t know. But you’re… you’re so easy to love, Jackson. I wasn’t looking for a relationship, I definitely didn’t want to fall in love just weeks after I had the entire world pulled out from under me. But I couldn’t help it. I never met a man like you. I couldn’t help falling in love with you on the spot. I never believed in love at first sight. I thought that was some bullshit from romance novels and chick flicks. Until I met you and it happened to me. When I finally thought what the heck and got off the brakes it was heaven. I don’t think I ever felt like this before, not with anybody. Heaven on earth. And suddenly I’m right back where I was. Havin’ to choose. Either the man I love… or the child I’ve wanted my whole damn life.”
She looked at me then — broken, terrified, honest.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said. “An impossible choice again. And I just I can’t let you go… so I just need time to say goodbye to a dream I had since I was a girl. For good this time.”
And I swear… my heart cracked clean in two.
I didn’t say nothin’ at first. Because I was shocked. Because I finally understood.
All the pullin’ back. All the distance. All the fear.
It wasn’t about me. It was about what she thought she’d lose.
And it hit me then — hard — that when she thought she had to choose, she chose me. Not out loud. Not on purpose. But she’d already started lettin’ go of the one dream she’d carried her whole damn life… just to keep me. And I ain’t never had anyone choose me like that before. Not just quietly choosing me over something they wanted longer than they knew I even existed.
So I took her face in my hands, wiped her cheeks with my thumbs, and said the only thing that felt true.
“Amy… you ain’t choosin’ between me and a kid.”
She blinked, confused. “What?”
“I said what I said that night ‘cause I was just bein’ honest. We been askin’ each other all sorts of questions ever since ya moved in, tryin’ to get to know each other, and I thought that was just another one. Ya asked me if I ever thought about havin’ another and I answered truthfully. Nah, I hadn’t, and I told ya why. Just the truth — thought nothin’ of it. But that was before you. Before us. Before I knew what it felt like to wake up with you in my arms.”
Her breath hitched.
“I ain’t promisin’ nothin’ right this second,” I said. “But I’m tellin’ you this: I ain’t closed off to the idea. Not with you. Not if it’s somethin’ you want with me that badly. Jus’ not right away. I know yer itchin’ to be a mom, but maybe ya could try bein’ a mom to my two livin’ with us for now, and then we’ll get there in our own time. Right now is too soon, too much too fast. I know you know that too. But maybe in a year from now, or even a little less, if ya still feel that way about me, we can talk about raisin’ a baby together.”
I brushed my thumb over her cheek, steadying her.
“After I made an honest woman outta ya. After you’re my wife. ’Cause if we’re bringin’ a baby into this world, we’re doin’ it as a family — all under one roof, one name, one life. That’s how I was raised, and that’s how I wanna raise mine.”
She stared at me like she didn’t dare believe it.
“Really? You mean that?”
“I wouldn’t be sayin’ it if I didn’t. I like bein’ a dad — thinkin’ I ain’t half‑bad at it. I just need ya to hear me when I say we got a lot of gettin’ to know each other to do first. But Amy, I do have one condition for me to even consider havin’ another child.”
She swallowed, eyes wide. “Okay… what is it?”
“That you stay,” I said. “Here. With me. With the kids. If we ever bring a baby into this world, it’s gonna be as a family. One roof. One life. Not split down the middle. I want ya to think long and hard before we agree to anything, ’cause if ya want a child with me, I want forever with ya. Bein’ a horse rancher’s wife ain’t always easy, so I want ya to know what yer gettin’ into before we go further.”
Her breath shook. “Really? You mean that?”
“Every damn word.”
Something in her face softened — like she finally let herself believe she wasn’t losin’ anything by lovin’ me. She leaned her forehead to mine, breath warm, voice barely there.
“Jackson… I love you,” she whispered. “I been tryin’ not to say it, but I do. I love you so much it scares me. How can that be? We just met. I am crazy. Crazy about you.”
My chest damn near caved in.
“Aw, darlin’,” I murmured, thumb brushing her jaw. “Ain’t nothin’ to be scared of. I love you too. Been fallin’ for ya since the day I walked into that feed store and saw ya standin’ there lookin’ like trouble I didn’t stand a chance against.”
She let out a shaky laugh — the first real one in days — and curled closer, like the words themselves held her up.
And sittin’ there on that porch, rockin’ her in my lap with the ridge stretched out in front of us, it felt like the whole world finally settled where it was meant to be. We still had a lot of learnin’ left to do, but for the first time in a long while, it felt like we were learnin’ it together.
EchoesOfLegacy 