Epilogue

Faith sat on the porch swing beside her father, looking on tenderly as he cradled his month-old grandson, Jackson Cooper. It wasn’t the first time he’d done so, but it always filled her with an abundance of happiness to see the joy and pride reflected in his face. He’d turned the management of the ranch entirely over to her and Rawley, who was standing with his backside pressed against the porch railing, his arms folded over his chest, one foot crossed in front of the other. Although she knew he wasn’t nearly as relaxed as he appeared.

She also knew they made a great team with him handling the cattle while she had renewed her interest in oil. She believed with all her heart that before too long they’d find a gusher or two. But even if they didn’t, she took comfort in knowing her father’s faith in their ability to ensure his legacy continued relieved him of a burden he’d grown weary of carrying. And with any luck, he’d be with them for a good many more years.

Her mother sat in a nearby rocker keeping a watchful eye on Callie as she chased after Rufus, who would suddenly turn around and start chasing her. Her laughter and shouts of glee echoed around them.

“I can’t believe how big this fella is already getting,” her father said as he skimmed a roughened finger over what she knew to be an incredibly soft, chubby cheek.

“He’s always hungry,” Faith told him.

“He’ll be eating beef before too long.”

“I have little doubt,” she assured him.

He lifted his gaze to her. “I would have loved him just as much if he’d turned out to be a girl.”

She smiled tenderly. “I know, Pa. You never made me feel like you wished I’d been a boy.”

“Not a lot of women could handle running a business as good as you do.”

“I think you’d be surprised.” She looked over at her mother. “We’re pretty sturdy when it comes right down to it.”

“We are that,” Ma agreed.

“Your ma and I have been talking,” Pa said. “We don’t need this big monstrosity of a house anymore—”

“I never saw it as a monstrosity,” her mother said quickly. “It represented a bold man with big dreams.”

“Well, that bold man is growing tired, and you young’uns need the space more than we do, so we’re going to build a smaller place not too far from here, but far enough away that you’ll have your privacy. Or you can build yourself something else, but that little cabin just won’t do any longer.”

She glanced over at Rawley, and with nothing more than a quirk of his mouth, he told her his answer.

“We’d like to move in here,” she said. “It’s full of wonderful memories, and we’ll pass them on to the children.”

“Good, that’s what we were hoping for,” her father said.

“With that settled, are y’all ready for dinner?” her mother asked, starting to rise out of the rocker.

“Uh, before we do that,” Rawley began, halting her progress, looking over at Faith. She gave her husband an encouraging nod. “Uh, I’ve got something to say.”

Her mother lowered herself back to the cushioned seat and waited patiently.

Rawley straightened and slipped his hands into the back pockets of his pants. He shifted his feet, cleared his throat.

“What is it, boy?” her father asked, worry threaded through his voice, and she wondered if parents ever saw the children entrusted to their care as adults.

Placing her hand on his arm, she squeezed gently. “Just give him time.” Then she gave her attention back to her husband and let all the love she felt for him—a lifetime’s worth and beyond—reflect in her eyes. A corner of his mouth tilted up as he gave her a small nod before riveting his gaze on her father.

“Dallas, when I was a boy and you took me in, you offered to give me your name.”

“And you turned me down.”

“I didn’t think I was deserving of it.”

“That is such hogwa—”

She squeezed her father’s arm to silence him because she knew how difficult this moment was for Rawley, knew how very much it meant to him.

“Go on,” her father said brusquely.

Rawley gave another nod. “I’ve been thinking on it. And the thing is, I want my son”—he looked to where Callie was now rolling on the grass with Rufus—“my children ”—he looked at Faith—“our children to carry the name of my father. I was hoping that offer you made was still open and you’d give me the honor of taking on your name.”

“’Bout damn time, son,” her father said, his voice a little thready with emotion. “About damn time.”

Then he handed Jackson off to her, shoved himself to his feet, and drew Rawley into his embrace. Over her father’s shoulder, through the welling tears, she saw her husband’s tightly closed eyes, saw a single droplet of water trail along his cheek.

He’d told her in the late hours of the night what he wanted to do, had asked her permission because it affected her name, too. He wanted to adopt Callie, as well, be as much a father to her as he would be to their son. And she knew he’d finally put his past behind him, had finally come to understand that family was not defined by blood.

“If it weren’t Sunday, we’d head into town this minute and get the matter settled,” her father said. “We’ll do it first thing in the morning.”

When her father stepped back, her mother replaced him, hugging Rawley tightly. “You’ve made us both so happy.”

“It took me a while to see things right, to understand,” he said. “Callie’s as much mine as Jackson is.”

As though she heard her name, Callie suddenly came to attention and darted up the steps. “Papa! I want a hug, too!”

Someday, Faith figured she would have to explain everything about the man who’d played a role in her existence. But her father was, and always would be, Rawley.

With the children sleeping, and their parents sitting on the front porch enjoying the stars, Rawley slipped his arm around Faith and led her away from the house, toward the open prairie. As far as he could see was land that would one day belong to them, that they would pass down to their children.

“Things change and yet they seem to remain the same,” Faith said quietly.

“You’ll be Faith Leigh again.”

“I don’t care what my name is as long as you’re my husband.”

He chuckled low. “Rawley Leigh doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.”

“I like it.” Swinging around, she stopped his progress, standing in front of him, her arms around his waist, her hands pressed to his back. “I love you, Rawley. I will as long as there is air to breathe and sky to look up at.”

With one hand, he cradled her cheek. “I’ve loved you for so long, Faith, that I can’t remember a time when I didn’t.”

As he claimed her mouth while the fireflies danced around them, he realized the legacy he’d been given had nothing at all to do with land or cattle or the possibility of oil but had everything to do with love, with loving this woman.