Page 37 of Marrying the Billboard Cowboy

The side-by-side slowed to a stop, and Zeke cut the engine. Silence enveloped them, a peaceful hush that seemed to wait with bated breath. He hopped out, his boots crunching on the hard ground, and rounded the vehicle to assist Kaitlyn. His handfound hers, calloused fingers enclosing her delicate ones as he helped her to her feet.

“Step down... There you go,” he murmured, his touch lingering just a moment too long before he drew back to untie the blindfold.

As the fabric fell away, Kaitlyn blinked, her eyes adjusting to the soft glow that lit up the secluded spot. The bonfire, not yet ignited, was laid out before them. Two camp chairs were already waiting, creating a cozy scene. He’d asked Dawson, one of the ranch hands, to drive out here earlier and take care of it.

“Zeke...” Her voice was a breath. “It’s beautiful.”

He watched her, saw the wonder etched across her features, the way her petite form leaned ever so slightly toward the unlit bonfire, as though drawn by an unseen promise of warmth. “I thought we could use a little bit of starlight tonight,” he said, his words tumbling out more tenderly than he intended.

“Thank you,” she whispered, turning to him, her dark eyes alight with gratitude and something deeper, something that tugged at his soul. “I love it.”

Love. The word echoed in Zeke’s mind, warm and inviting, and for a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to share such moments with Kaitlyn—not just tonight, but every starry night thereafter. But the thought was quickly doused by the persistent fear of his own inadequacy, of being seen as nothing more than a means to an end.

“Let’s get this fire started,” he said instead, breaking the spell of the moment, directing their attention to the task at hand. “You must be cold.”

Kaitlyn smiled softly, wrapping her arms around herself, a silent admission of her chill. “I am, but I think tonight is going to be a special kind of warm.”

With those words hanging between them, they moved together, stepping closer to the circle of stones and timber.

Zeke knelt by the precariously stacked logs, his hands steady despite the flutter in his chest as he clicked the lighter. Flames licked at the kindling, eager to consume, and within moments, the fire crackled to life, its warm glow embracing their little haven under the vast Colorado sky.

“Beautiful,” Kaitlyn murmured, her breath visible in the chill air as she moved closer to the burgeoning bonfire. The light danced across her features, chasing away shadows and illuminating the quiet resilience etched into her delicate frame.

“Here, let’s sit.” His voice was gentle, an invitation rather than a command. Zeke extended a hand to help Kaitlyn across the rocky ground, marveling silently at the softness of her fingers as they brushed against his calloused palm.

Settled on the chair, Kaitlyn tucked her feet on the edge, a thankful sigh escaping her lips as he tucked a blanket around her and the fire’s warmth seeped into her bones. Zeke noticed her relax, shoulders easing from their habitual tension. He reached for his phone, thumbs scrolling to find the perfect soundtrack for the night.

The opening bars of “O Holy Night” filled the silence between them, notes rich and familiar. Christmas music had always been a balm to his soul, a reminder of family, faith, and the simple joys that came with the season.

“Christmas music,” Kaitlyn said, a small smile gracing her lips. “My mother used to play carols all through December.”

She hadn’t talked much about her parents, but there was a wistfulness in her voice when she spoke of her mother.

“Would you tell me about them?” he asked cautiously.

Kaitlyn tensed, then sighed. “Not a lot to tell. They were strict, controlling. When I got pregnant…” His heart cracked at the pain in her voice. “I loved them. And I thought they loved me.”

Anger at her parents’ actions flooded him. “I’m so sorry, Katie. They should have been there for you.”

She jerked a shoulder. “It’s okay.”

He laid his hand across hers on the arm of the camp chair. “No. It’s not. They are missing out on their incredible daughter and their perfect grandson. And that is their loss.”

A tear slid down her cheek. “Thank you,” she said in a whisper.

“Can I ask… What about Stetson’s father?”

Kaitlyn scoffed. “I thought my parents’ reaction to the news was bad… His was even worse. He told me it was my problem. I was living at home, but when my parents kicked me out, I went back to his apartment just to see if I could convince him to let me crash there or something.” A bitter laugh escaped. “He’d vanished overnight. Moved away, changed his number, everything.”

His jaw clenched. “And you were all alone,” he murmured.

She nodded, staring into the fire. “Yeah. I stayed with a girlfriend for a bit. Got a job. Found a roommate. But roommates don’t last long once the 2 a.m. crying starts.”

So many words he wanted to say caught in his chest. That she’d never be alone again. That he’d hunt down her parents and make them realize what they were missing.

“We were okay. Things were tight, obviously. Credit cards, crappy apartments. I worked at a preschool for a while, where I could bring Stetson with me. But then last spring he got the flu, so we missed work for a week and a half. And then I got the flu. Another week off. I fell behind and…” Her voice cracked. “What kind of mother can’t even pay the electricity bill?” She shook her head. “I was out of hope, Zeke.”

“Don’t say that,” he pleaded. “We’re never out of hope.”

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