Swift and Saddled: A Rebel Blue Ranch Novel
Swift and Saddled: Epilogue

Eight Months Later

I waited for Ada in the Jackson airport. I was bouncing on the balls of my feet, twiddling my thumbs, and constantly adjusting my hat. It had been about two months since I’d seen her—the longest we’d gone since she left Rebel Blue for Tucson in July.

Since then, she’d also completed projects in Utah and New Mexico. All of them were hospitality projects—inns, B&Bs, that sort of thing. She’d found her niche, and she was damn good at it. I’d gone to see her a few times at each place, which meant I’d been leaving Wyoming more than I ever had in my life.

In Utah, we’d even had a long weekend to explore a few national parks—Bryce Canyon was my favorite.

The places we went were beautiful, but Wyoming was always going to be my home, and Ada knew that. She also knew that when she was ready, Meadowlark and I would be here waiting to welcome her home for good.

Ada came back to Rebel Blue for the few weeks she always had in between jobs. I’d started renovating a cabin on the far side of my piece of Rebel Blue with her in mind. I still switched back and forth between there and the Big House. When my dad asked me why, I told him it was because the new house didn’t feel like home without Ada there.

God, I missed her.

We did what I said we were going to do. We made it work. But goddamn, it wasn’t easy. When Ada was gone, there was a hole shaped like her in my life and my soul.

But I filled it with memories of her and us. I filled it with pride in her chasing her dreams and doing what she wanted. I filled it with a love that felt both perfectly ordinary and extraordinary at the same time.

I’d been waiting for Ada my whole life. I had three decades of wondering why I couldn’t or didn’t want to fall in love under my belt. Thirty years of waiting was a lot, but I’d do it all over again to have her at the end of it.

And I did. Have her.

We were a forever sort of thing.

That was the thought that ran through my head when I saw an unmistakable mane of shiny black hair and my favorite roses running toward me. Before I could brace myself, she’d dropped her bag, jumped into my arms, and wrapped her legs around my waist. I stumbled a little bit but recovered quickly.

We didn’t kiss. Not yet.

I held her tight and buried my face in her neck and she did the same. We stayed there for a second, breathing each other in. Every time we saw each other, it was like we had this moment of remembering that the other was real.

“I missed you,” she whispered.

“Welcome home, sweetheart.”

She pulled back and her brown eyes met mine. We stared at each other the way we always did. She’d come from New Mexico and must’ve been spending a lot of time outside because her freckles were back.

Her eyes searched mine for a second before she planted a firm kiss on my mouth. There was something about her making the first move that just fucking did it for me. It took me back to that night in the bar when she’d fisted my shirt and crashed her mouth into mine.

What are you doing to me? I remember saying.

I’d known her—“known” being a strong word, I realize—for five minutes and she’d already had me by the balls.

We kissed long enough that we started to get a few hoots, hollers, and whistles from passersby. I knew I was blushing, but I didn’t care.

When she finally pulled away, I mourned the loss of her mouth against mine, but I guessed her forehead against mine would have to be enough for now.

“I missed you,” she said again.

“I love you,” I responded. “And I missed you like crazy.”

“Let’s never go that long again, deal?”

“Deal,” I said. Easiest deal I’d ever make in my entire life. She tightened her legs around me one last time before unwrapping them and dropping to the ground.

I picked up her bag and slung an arm over her shoulder as we walked toward the baggage claim—my girl did not pack light. “How many bags this time?” I asked. Sometimes she brought a lot of stuff home—antiques and shit.

“Just two.” She smiled up at me. I recognized her first bag—it was the same one she’d brought to Rebel Blue—when it appeared on the carousel. Now it was marked with one of the airline’s orange “heavy” tags.

She pointed at her next bag, which had the same tag. Jesus. I made a mental note to lift with my legs before I grabbed them both.

They were heavy as hell.

“You know,” I said, “if your plane fell out of the sky, it would be your fault because of these two monsters.”

Ada waved her hand like that wasn’t a big deal. “The rare vintage set of Pyrex mixing bowls that I got for our house was worth the risk.”

Our house.

It wasn’t the first time she’d said it, but every time she did felt like the first time. I didn’t think I’d ever get over the fact that Ada Hart was mine and I was hers.

“I’ll take your word for it,” I said as I opened my truck’s passenger door for her. She gave me a quick kiss before she hopped in. I rounded to the other side and got in. Ada swiftly slid across the bench seat to saddle up next to me, which was just the way I liked it.

I turned on some James Taylor, and we started the three-hour drive back to Meadowlark and Rebel Blue. We talked about Ada’s last project and her newfound love of incorporating found rocks into design elements like backsplashes and shower floors. I told her about the wranglers we’d hired to guide our rides at Baby Blue this summer.

Baby Blue, which was now the guest ranch’s actual name, would officially open on June 15 and run weeklong trips through the last week of August. Our guests would have the option to ride every day, hike, fish, and hopefully relax too. Every week was already booked solid. Ada’s social media sent a lot of people our way.

The seasonal wranglers and guides we hired were great, and we’d mapped out the trails they would use around Rebel Blue that wouldn’t interfere with the ranch hands’ work, but the likelihood that guests would come in contact with some stubborn cows was still pretty high.

All part of the ranch experience, I guess.

“Do you think you’ll be around for the opening?” I asked, trying not to give away how much I wanted her there, even though she probably already knew.

She pushed up and kissed my cheek. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything,” she said. “Plus, I need to make sure the inside looks perfect.”

Relief and joy washed through me. She would be there to welcome people to the place we’d built together. The place that had springboarded both of our dreams.

After Ada had returned from her short-lived getaway, we showed my family Baby Blue. They loved every square inch of it. Especially the painting that now graced the entryway. It was one of my mom’s. It was big—probably four by six—and it depicted the Rebel Blue Ranch headgate at sunset.

My dad teared up when he saw it. So did Emmy and Gus.

“So,” I asked, “when do you head back out? Do you have your next job lined up?” I realized we hadn’t talked about it yet. She’d never brought it up in any of our FaceTimes, phone calls, or messages. Normally, she lined the next job up about two months before the end of the current one.

Instead of answering, she just said, “Pull over,” which was odd, but I did what she said. Once the truck was stopped on the dirt shoulder right outside Meadowlark, Ada turned her body toward me and put a hand on my face.

“I’m not,” she said. “Heading back out.”

My heart thundered in my chest. Was she saying what I thought she was saying?

Her brown eyes were soft as she said, “You told me you would never stand in the way of following my dreams. You’re my dream, Wes. You, and Waylon and Loretta and Baby Blue.” My breath caught in my throat. “I reached out to the Poppy Mallow Inn. I’m going to renovate a few of their rooms. I followed my dreams, and they led me back to you.”

I kissed her then. It was frantic and full of disbelief. She was staying.

For good.

Ada wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled her body into mine. Our kisses turned from frantic to needy as she started to unbutton my shirt. I slipped my hands under her tight black T-shirt and rubbed them up and down her back, reveling in what it was like to touch her again.

Fucking heaven.

I slid my tongue into her mouth and she moaned. God, I missed her sounds. I loved them. I loved everything about her—her body, her mind. She brought her hands to my belt. “Ada,” I warned.

“I need you,” she breathed. “I love you, Wes.” I wasn’t ashamed to admit that my dick got hard every time she said my name, and I hoped it would be that way forever. I kissed my way down her neck and bit the base of her throat.

The wild horses in my chest broke into a lope as I laid her back on the bench seat. I lifted her T-shirt so I could see her perfect tits heave as I slid into her. I watched her eyes roll back and her mouth fall open.

“Fuck, Ada,” I groaned. “I dream about you all the time. About the way you feel when we’re together.” Her breaths were fast and strangled. “My dreams don’t even come close to the real thing.”

She pulled me down to kiss her, and I went to take my hat off, but she stopped me with a hand on my chest. “Leave the cowboy hat on,” she said with a wicked smile that made my hips roll.

I kept the hat on.

—

It was almost two hours later when we rolled into Rebel Blue. The sun was setting behind the mountains, and I felt like I was on top of the world.

“I hope we didn’t miss anything,” Ada said worriedly. “I will feel terrible if we missed their entrance.”

“If we did,” I said with a grin, “it’s your fault.” Even though I knew we hadn’t missed anything. We wouldn’t have time to go and drop Ada’s stuff at our house like I’d planned, but Brooks and Emmy wouldn’t be here for another fifteen minutes.

I pulled the truck to a stop in front of the Big House. It looked like Teddy, Gus, and Dusty were already here. When we got out of the truck, I laced my fingers through Ada’s.

Inside, some soft old country was playing. I could hear voices over the music and I could smell all of Brooks and Emmy’s favorite foods: smothered chicken, mashed potatoes, fresh bread, honeyed carrots.

All the good stuff.

When Ada and I walked into the kitchen, we were met by my dad, Hank, Gus, Riley, Teddy, and Dusty. There were smiles and hugs and “Welcome homes” for Ada. I watched her hug everyone. Her smile was genuine—I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen the tight professional smile she met us all with at first.

Ada belonged here, and everyone knew it.

“Cutting it kind of close, aren’t you?” Gus said.

“What were you two crazy kids up to?” Teddy asked with a wink. Before either of us could answer, the front door opened again and all of us went still, waiting for Brooks and Emmy to appear in the kitchen.

When they did, both of them were glossy-eyed and looked happier than a horse in an open field. Their smiles were so big that their cheeks probably hurt, and they just got bigger as they looked at all of us. Seeing Emmy and Brooks this happy made my heart soar.

“So?” Teddy asked, and Emmy giggled as she unlaced her left hand from Brooks’s and held it up for all of us to see.

My mom’s ring, a simple gold band inlaid with small diamonds, now graced her ring finger.

I’d known that Brooks had that ring in his possession since about a week after Emmy’s last race of her barrel racing career.

Cheers erupted and there were more hugs and tears. My dad kept scrunching his nose—his telltale sign that he was an emotional mess.

Emmy was glowing and Brooks was basking in her glow. I was so fucking happy for them. There were more hugs, more tears, and more laughter. Gus gave Brooks a clap on the back, and Teddy hugged Emmy close and kissed the side of her head.

When things had settled a bit and we sat down to dinner, Ada leaned in and whispered, “I think I’d like to do that someday. With you.” I looked at her questioningly. What did she mean? She must’ve seen it on my face, because my entire world stopped for a minute when she said, “Get married, I mean.”

I kissed her temple and said, “Yes, ma’am.”