Page 131 of The Rancher Who Swore Off Love

Grace looked up. “She’s out cold.”

“I can see that.” He leaned against the porch post. “You know, my life used to make sense.”

“Huh?”

He looked out at the yard, at the trenches still visible in the moonlight, the bare patches where the garden used to grow, and the rose beds torn up and waiting to be replanted.

“I had a schedule. I had a system. Every fence post measured, every hinge oiled, every shirt ironed and hung in order.”

“Sounds boring.”

“It soundspeaceful.”

“It sounds boring, Logan.”

He chuckled. “Thenyoushowed up. With a carpetbag and a temper and no return ticket, and you broke my well pump on day three.”

“Dayfour.”

“You argued with a rooster.”

“Gerald started it.”

“You chased gophers in your nightdress at four in the morning and woke up the whole house.”

“They had it comin’.”

“You named our baby, brought my ma’s roses back, made my pa smile, and turned my whole life upside down.”

Grace’s hand found his arm. “You sorry about that?”

“Not for a single second.” He looked down at her. Freckles, honey eyes, a bruise that would fade, and a stubbornness that wouldn’t. “My life ain’t been the same since you walked through that gate, Grace Foster. And I thank God every day it ain’t.”

She stood on her toes. Her hand slid up his arm to his shoulder, and she kissed him, soft and sure, with Miriam asleep between them.

Her mouth curved against his.

“You still owe me a garden, Cowboy.”

THE END?