He would totally make sacrifices to the gods of nature if he had to. “I want you to know what I’m offering.”

The little crease between her brows that appeared at his words was cute, but he refused to be distracted. He pointed back where they’d come from. “One nearly finished rustic cabin.”

Her frown broke into a smile. “Gabe?”

He kept going, pointing over the rise, passing his hand from east to west. “One section of not yet, but on its way to being self-sufficient, organic grazing and seed land.”

She fell silent as he caught her right hand and pressed their linked hands against his chest. “And one slightly beat-up heart. All of them are yours. For real. Forever.”

Her bright gaze darted over his face. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I love you. And I think you love me. Isn’t it about damn time you admit it?”

She bit her lip and sniffled once. Then again. Then the sniffle turned into a smile and she laughed. Softly at first, then louder. Laughter that carried over the land and the little cabin, and filled his heart with exactly what he needed.

It was infectious and addictive. Her smile, the sound of her joy—

There it was again. What she’d brought to him. Joy. In the midst of the tears, in the midst of the rain.

She stroked his cheek, wiping the moisture away, and he savoured her touch. Loved how in the middle of trying to save her, she’d saved him.

Gabe played with the ring that adorned her finger. “Does the fact I made you laugh mean yes?”

She leaned closer and whispered in his ear. “It means I love you too.”

The words hit like a branding iron. Scorching deep, permanently marking him, and he couldn’t have been happier.

He caught her by the cheeks, cradling her face, and kissed her. Full out, no holds barred, marking her as much as she’d done to him. The rain streaking down to baptize them with a fresh, clean start.

When they separated, she shook her head in wonder. “Never expected this to happen when I raced over to your place at the start of the summer.”

“One season of changes.” He brushed her lips with his thumb and spoke softly as he leaned in for another kiss. “I can hardly wait to see what we can accomplish in five.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

The scent of autumn in the air warned winter approached, but for one more week Indian summer had burst out bringing glorious hot days and sultry starlit nights. A light breeze danced over the tall grasses to set them swaying, the river beyond them gurgling and rushing forward like usual.

Allison tipped the container and let the ashes trickle out.

Elle clutched the fingers of her other hand hard, Paul’s hand rested on her shoulder. Sorrow lay like a blanket over them all, only the pain wasn’t unbearable.

Sending her mom off on a day that screamed happiness seemed appropriate.

A few steps behind them the horses shuffled their feet. Gabe stood patiently holding the reins as he waited for the family to finish saying goodbye.

They’d been saying it all summer long.

“I miss her, but I’m…” Elle shook her head sadly as she turned. “I’m glad she’s not suffering. That she’s happy and at peace, and there’s nothing that can hurt her anymore.”

“I love that we were all there when she went.” Allison snuck her fingers free so she could wipe the tears from her eyes. “Smiling—just like always.”

Paul didn’t speak at first. Cleared his throat and stared over the land. “I understand better now why Mom did it. She wanted to be strong for us, didn’t she?”

“She was strong. To the end.” Elle caught them both in a tight hug before stepping back and blowing her nose into a hankie. “I’ve got to go. I love you guys.”

“Mind if I walk with you?” Paul asked.

Elle shook her head.

“I’ll come by the house in the morning,” Allison said, “Right after breakfast.”

Paul leaned over and kissed her cheek, “See you at the restaurant in the afternoon.” He tipped his head toward Gabe. “Take care of her.”

“I will,” Gabe promised.

Her brother and sister walked slowly back toward the trail that led to where they’d parked. Allison watched them until they disappeared into the trees.

It hurt terribly to have Maisey gone, but her family—they were still there for each other. Their family hadn’t disappeared when their mom died.

She tucked the small box back into Patches’s saddlebag and turned to find Gabe at her side, his love-filled eyes staring down.

“You were the best daughter she could have ever hoped for.”

Allison rested her cheek against his chest and gazed over the land. He rubbed her back, his strength and power right there for her to cling to if she needed. But what she appreciated even more was how he let her go when she straightened. How he accepted her tight hug.

He didn’t just try to save her, he let her save him as well.

“Ready to ride for a while?” Gabe passed her the reins.

Allison swung into the saddle and nodded. “You never did point out the section of land you switched with the Whiskey Creek Colemans. Can we get there from here?”

He laughed. “Gabe’s Folly? Sure, I can show you that.”

“Oh no, did the crew name it already?”

“Hell, yeah.” He pointed toward a shallow ford in the river, and she tugged the reins to direct Patches that way. “You knew it would happen. Not sure if it was one of the Whiskey Creek girls, but probably not. Karen wouldn’t care, since it doesn’t affect her precious horses. Tamara’s still too busy getting into everyone’s business in other ways. I figure it was someone on the Moonshine side.”

Allison was quiet for a minute as a whisper of guilt rose. “I never did tell you something.”

Gabe took her offered fingers and squeezed them before the horses stepped too far apart, breaking their handhold. “A secret? Hmm, those aren’t allowed, right?”

“Right.” Ever since they’d turned this fake marriage into a real one. “Way back when I first contacted you, it was Tamara who’d snitched about Mom being sick.”

He chuckled. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“What?” That was good, yet surprising. “All this time you knew? How?”

“You told me.”

The splash of the water sounded rhythmically as the horses paced forward. Allison searched her memory for a time or place that she’d shared that bit of info. “I…was sure I hadn’t.”

“Oh, darling, first day out you were spouting all kinds of things. Sleep-deprived, you don’t do so good. You’ll never get a job as a secret agent.” He grinned at her. “Don’t worry, I know how to keep my mouth shut.”

“A little too well.” She took it in. His love, his acceptance. Gave it back. “I think you need to open your mouth more often.”

“Hmm, now that’s an invitation I’m happy to take you up on.”

He reached for her and she laughingly pulled Patches out of reach. “No. No sex on a horse.”

“We’ve had sex everywhere else,” he pointed out.

True. “You’ve very inventive, I’ll give you that. Now hush and show me this land you foolishly traded for.”

He sighed. “Four more years until things are completely switched over. We’ll just keep our heads above water until then, if no more disasters go south.”

Which partly meant Ben. He’d stopped fighting the changes, and he’d stopped taunting Gabe, but he’d grown even colder in some ways.

Allison avoided him as much as possible.

They rode in silence, both deep in their own thoughts as the land passed under the horses’ steady stride.

She knew finances were going to be tight. She also knew if it really came down to it, the money her mom had given her would be the first thing they’d use. The funds were hers to spend as she pleased. Not even Gabe, especially not Gabe, would deny her the right to use them however she chose.

Allison stared across at her husband—Lord, the word still made a chill zip along her spine—and admired him all over again. From his boots on up to his firmly positioned hat, he was hundred-percent Canadian free-range cowboy.

And hers. Heart of gold and all.

Gabe shook his head. “I like your smile.”

He slipped off Hurricane, tethering him to a nearby bush. Allison dismounted as well, securing Patches before stepping forward to accept Gabe’s outreached hand.

“Look and weep. She’s right there. We actually own both sides of the waterway now.”

Allison gazed over the section Gabe pointed out. Checked to the south. The north. The river wove its way along the western border, about the farthest thing from a straight line possible. “This piece?”

“Uncle George said he felt a little guilty for switching the north section with me. In exchange he got a parcel you could use a straight edge on—you could fall asleep in the tractor and the lay of the land would nearly steer you home.”

A little bit of hope brightened inside her. “So this piece that he gave you? He hasn’t planted it for a while?”

“No. Pain in the ass to do anything here, he said. He’s had the horses out for a few years at least. Karen would know more, she keeps all the records.”

Hope budded and grew, ready to bloom full out if given a chance. “Gabe, don’t go laying wagers or anything yet, but you might have struck gold, not foolishness, in your switch.”

He looked her over intently. “Explain.”

“What were you going to do with this bit of land?” she asked.

“Turn the cattle out. Let it lie fallow. I wasn’t sure yet.”

She smiled. “How about checking with Karen, and if it has been sitting for at least three years, you can get a jump on your plans. At least in terms of starting a few animals or maybe plant some alfalfa out here. You don’t mind a little extra work to cultivate, do you?”