Page 63 of Cowboy Mountain Man

“I’m allowed.”

“I know.”

I turn my hand, watching the stone catch the light. “Your wife is going to have opinions.”

“My fiancée already does.”

“She might rearrange the kitchen.”

“She already has.”

“She’ll occasionally leave for work.”

His arm settles around me. “Then I’ll keep the light on.”

I lift my head. He’s looking at me with that same quiet certainty. No rush. No demand. Just room for me beside him.

“And I’ll come home,” I say.

He kisses me beneath the porch light.

Beyond the fence, June stamps one hoof, impatient for another apple. I laugh against his mouth. Harlan pulls the blanket closer around us.

“Tomorrow,” he tells her.

I settle against him.

For once, I don’t have anywhere I need to go.

Epilogue

HARLAN

One year later

My wife is standing on a ladder, arguing with a lantern. “Hold still.”

I look up. “Me or the lantern?”

“Whichever one listens.”

I have both hands on the ladder. The lantern swings from a hook above her head. “It’s straight,” I tell her.

“It’s crooked.”

“The hook’s straight.”

“Then the porch is crooked.”

“I built the porch.”

She looks down at me. “That explains why you’re taking this personally.”

I should’ve known better than to marry a woman who measures furniture for a living. I did know better. Married her anyway.

Hope gives the lantern one last adjustment, studies it, then nods. “There.”

I help her down. She lands close enough that I can kiss her before she steps away.