Page 34 of Her Grumpy Cowboy
“Like talking too much?”I ask, smirking.
He raises his cocoa in mock salute.“That too.”
Kitty rolls her eyes but smiles up at him in that soft way that could melt icicles.Watching them, it’s easy to see why everyone in Silver Bell Hollow swears by whatever matchmaking magic lives out at Havenridge Ranch.Some people meet by chance.Others get ambushed by love and never recover.
Angel leans into me, her voice low.“They look happy.”
“They are,” I say, kissing the top of her head.“Guess we’re in good company.”
More of the Maas boys show tonight—men now, bigger in the shoulders and calmer in the eyes than the half-wild teens Mary and Christopher once took in.They stand in loose clusters, some laughing, some quiet, all carrying that bond you don’t shake off with time or distance.
And then there’s Wyatt Callahan.Broad, broody, quiet.He hangs at the edge of the firelight like he’s not sure he belongs yet.He’s a few years younger than me and came to the ranch the year before I left.Ex-SEAL, like me, though our careers never crossed.I know that weight in his eyes.I saw it in the mirror before an angel saved me.
I nod toward him.“Wyatt,” I call.
He glances over, that assessing look he gives everyone before deciding if they’re safe or stupid.Then he nods back, slow and deliberate.
“Didn’t think I’d see you out here,” I say when he ambles closer.
“Could say the same about you,” he says dryly.“But Mary told me showing up was mandatory.Figured I’d better make an appearance before she sent out a search party.”
Angel grins.“Smart man.”
He tips his chin in greeting.“Ma’am.”His gaze softens just a fraction before flicking back to the fire.“Looks like things have changed for you.”
“Yeah,” I say, glancing down at Angel.“Guess they have.”
“Good changes,” Angel adds, smiling.“You’ll get yours too.”
Wyatt’s mouth twitches.“Not sure I’d know what to do with good changes.”
I nod.“Takes practice.”
He huffs a quiet laugh and shakes his head.“You make it sound easy.”
“Wasn’t.Still isn’t.But it’s worth it,” I murmur, looking at Angel again.
The love shining in her eyes almost sends me to my knees.
For a second, the only sound is the crackle of the bonfire and the distant carols floating from the main house.Wyatt studies the flames like they have the answers to all his questions.
Then he nods.“Tom Sutton said there’s a place for me at Havenridge, working with the other vets.Maybe I’ll stick around awhile,” he says.“See if I can figure it out.”
“Yeah,” I say, watching him drift back toward the shadows.“Reckon it’s about time you did.”
Angel squeezes my hand, and the look she gives me says exactly what I’m thinking.Whoever Wyatt’s story is, it’s still being written.Maybe he’s finally got his chance at a happy ending.
Mary and Christopher stand hand-in-hand, cut from the same piece of flannel, watching their brood.Stories drift up like smoke.This isn’t just a bonfire.It’s a promise.A family you choose.
I rest my palm on the small of Angel’s back as we step into the circle of warmth.Steady.Safe.Feels like home.
Firelight blooms over her face, and something in my chest answers.Her eyes lift to mine, soft and sure, and I can feel the words before she says them.
We set up the cocoa.I get stupidly serious about the thermos spigots—can’t help it—and Tyler and Nate “help,” which is to say they keep things lively and only spill a medium amount.Everything feels easy.Good.
Mary claps for attention.The crowd settles.Everyone shuffles closer.Christopher says a few words—thank yous and the usual safety reminders.Then he lifts his chin at me.It’s not a summons; it’s an invitation.
I step up beside him.“I don’t make speeches,” I say, and people laugh because they know that already.“But I’ve got something to say.”
