Page 104 of Hero's Heart

He caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. “What I had with Amelia…it prepared me for you, Sloane. For this love that’s bigger than anything I’ve ever known.”

Tears pricked at Sloane’s eyes. “I love you, Callum Webb. So much it scares me sometimes.”

“And I love you, Sloane Miller. Soon-to-be Webb,” he murmured, pulling her close. “You and our son. You ready to go?”

She smiled. “Yes, I’m ready. Ready for it all.”

As they began the walk back home, hand in hand, Sloane felt a sense of peace settle over her. Tomorrow, she would becomeCallum’s wife. And in a few short weeks, they would welcome their son into the world.

The path that had led her here had been fraught with danger and heartache, but she wouldn’t change a single step.

And every step she took from here forward would be with this man.

Joy’s Epilogue

One month after the Kozak Brothers

Joy plastered a bright smile on her face as she wove through the crowded Eagle’s Nest bar and grill. The Friday night rush was in full swing, the room alive with the clatter of plates, the hum of conversation, and the occasional burst of laughter.

She’d worked here in one capacity or another for the past seven years, since she was sixteen. Knew every spot that squeaked on the worn wooden floor. Had carved her initials in the corner of the server’s station one night when she was bored during a snowstorm.

This place was her second home. And tonight everything looked normal—feltnormal.

But it wasn’t. Not for her.

Joy forced herself to keep her shoulders back, her head high, and the corners of her mouth turned up just enough to look approachable, not strained. If she could fool everyone else, maybe she could fool herself too.

Smile. You know how to smile. Even a tiny-ass baby knows how to smile.

The weight of familiar gazes clung to her wherever she went, making it nearly impossible to force the upward movement of her lips. They weren’t watching her because she was an exceptional waitress—she wasn’t, not even on her best days. And it wasn’t for the usual reasons, either: her knack for pulling pranks or her tendency to burst into off-key songs at the most unexpected moments.

She was used to those kinds of stares, earned from a lifetime of antics and shenanigans growing up in Oak Creek. But this was different,heavier, and she couldn’t escape it.

They were watching because of what had happened a month ago.

She pretended not to notice their stares or the hushed whispers as she passed by. But hell if she couldn’t basically hear their whispering.

Poor thing. You know she was attacked in her own house. Can you imagine?

Bless her heart, beaten like that. Hospitalized and everything.

Our hapless little wild-child, reduced to this.

Joy clenched her teeth and moved faster. Oak Creek was a good town, filled with kind people that she loved and trusted. But even kind people had a knack for turning someone else’s trauma into a form of entertainment. It wasn’t cruelty; it was curiosity mixed with pity.

And God, did Joy hate pity.

Sloane—sweet, quiet, supportive Sloane—caught her eye from across the room and gave her a quick smile. It was a good smile... gentle, understanding—just like the woman herself. But behind it lay the same concern Joy saw from everyone these days.

Pity mixed with unease, like Joy was a grenade with the pin half-pulled.

“How’s it going?” Sloane asked as they crossed paths at the beverage station.

Joy grabbed a pot of coffee and poured two cups with a steady hand she didn’t feel. “Busy, which is good. Keeps my mind occupied.” She flashed a grin that didn’t reach her eyes.

Sloane nodded, her brow creased. “Yeah, it’s good. But you can’t keep running on fumes forever. You doing okay?”

The question felt like a punch. Joy wanted to snap back that she was fine, but the words caught in her throat. She had no right to complain to Sloane of all people.

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