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When he crashes his lips against mine, his suffering and his joy melt into me as the passion of our kiss heals the wounds we’ve earned.

“You’re it for me too, London.” He pulls away, resting his forehead on mine. “Even when you’re cheesy.”

“You did not just call me cheesy!” I exclaim, slapping his arm.

Running his thumb over my bottom lip, he grins. “I like it.”

“You better.”

“I’ve got to go make some calls. I’ll send your family back in, okay?”

“Okay,” I whisper.

After standing up, he kisses me softly on the lips. “Whatever I did to deserve you, I don’t know and I don’t care. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

As he moves towards the door, a smile spreads on my face.

“Hey, cowboy?”

“Yeah, angel?” He pauses at the doorway.

“You’re gonna owe my daddy a barn.”

The sound of his laughter fills both the room and my heart. “You got it, babe.”

You don’t know when the love you’ve been waiting for will come your way, but when it does, you’d be wise to remember that you aren’t perfect, and neither are they. Forgive, do your best, and when things need a little more fixin’ than that, you’d best change rein.

AUTHORITIES CAUGHT FRANCIS LATER THAT same day on a Greyhound bound for nowhere after Branson had offered a handsome reward for anyone with information on his whereabouts. They were able to issue a warrant for his arrest when the fingerprints lifted from the Tucker Farms lock used to chain the side door closed came back as a match to his.

Francis cooperated with the police for a lesser sentence and pled guilty to arson. The investigation and his statement informed us that he’d used rags soaked in gasoline to start the fire and positioned them around the barn where he’d suspected they’d do the most damage. The fire investigators said we were lucky. Francis knew very little about what he was doing and didn’t leave himself enough time to chain the front doors of the barn shut. They found a matching chain and lock in the driveway, but he’d had enough self-preservation instincts to flee before getting caught.

Are we lucky? I suppose so.

Two months later, in the chilly winter air, my family broke champagne over the front doors to our new barn. We built it in the exact same place as the old one, though it has some improvements. While it wasn’t easy for Daddy to let Branson pay, he understood why he had to. It was part of cleansing his soul of the wrongdoings he believed he was the cause of.

When I reach the place my feet always take me to, my thumb brushes over the name plaque nailed to the wood outside the last stall on the left of the barn.

Achilles War.

My mind wanders, as it often does, and I wonder if there’s anything I could have done differently that night. I fight the tears in my eyes as my finger traces each of the letters in gold.

Warm breath tickles my face, and I laugh.

“I know, buddy. Your mom’s a big, ol’ sap.” I reach up, rubbing the front of his muzzle with the palm of my hand. “I guess it’s not just you and me anymore, Chil,” I whisper to him like it’s a secret as we listen to my family’s laughter sound through the aisle.

He snorts and shoves me a little, his ears twitching back and forth as I whisper to him all of my secrets. He’s the only one who knows as much about me as Branson does.

“Should we go for a walk, handsome?”

As he nods his head in agreement, I unlatch the opening to his stall and slide the halter over his head.

It’s been a long recovery for both of us, but we’re managing. The fireman barely got him out in time before the building collapsed, and if the vet on standby, Ray Brookes, hadn’t been so attuned to his condition, Achilles wouldn’t have made it.

He’d ingested cholecalciferol—or, as most people know it, rat poison. Charlotte had split a bag in the feed room that day, which she later came clean about as she handed in her resignation, and it had accidently gotten mixed in with Achilles’ evening grain feeding.

It was a poor doubling-up of bad circumstances, and thankfully, he hadn’t ingested enough to cause him irreversible damage. For that, I considered us very lucky.

As I lead him outside, I can’t help but smile when the first drops start to fall.

I think people assume they’re only granted one extraordinary love in their lifetime, but I believe love pours full and heavy like the November rain. Plentiful and frequent as the coming days, each drop leaves its own unique impression on the varying parts of their hearts.

However, like all great loves, it does not come without sacrifice, hard work, or an abundance of pain by way of growth. I am blessed to have known three remarkable loves in my life—the selfless love of my mother, the passionate love of horses, and the love of a wonderful man.

No love is without struggle.

Like Momma always said: “Love is worth it. You just have to be willing to get a little rain on ya is all.”

THE END.

If It Ain’t Too Much To Ask—Jackson Young

Tennessee Whiskey—Chris Stapleton

My Heart Skips a Beat—Dwight Yoakam

Angels Fall Sometimes—Josh Turner

Love on Me—Brent Cobb

Ride (feat. Macy Maloy)—Chase Rice

Cowboys and Angels—Dustin Lynch

A Soft Place to Fall—Allison Moorer

Sober Me Up—Frankie Ballard

How ‘Bout Them Cowgirls—George Straight

Real Good Man—Tim McGraw

Why God Made Love Songs—Joel Crouse

On to Something Good—Ashley Monroe

Kiss by Kiss—Brett Young

Smoke—A Thousand Horses

Georgia Rain—Trisha Yearwood

Cowgirl—Tyler Farr

Shut Me Up—Old Dominion

Little Bitty Dreams—Will Hoge

She’s Got This Thing About Her—Chris Young

Forever and Ever, Amen—Randy Travis

To Marie Garner, I owe you the biggest bear hug ever! This book would not be where it is without you. You were my slave driver, my confidant and my cheerleader for this book. I love you to the moon and back and can’t thank you enough for everything!

For my beautiful beta readers, thank you for your honesty and excitement! Larni Phipps, Wendy Colby, Maggie Lugo, Alycia Sanchioni, Tracey-lee Mylchreest, Nikki Mccrae, Elizabeth Thiele, Lori Christensen, Ashley Jasper, Sam Shemeld and Kristi Webster.

Thank you to my editors Mickey Reed and Kayla Robichaux!

To Ashley Martinez, my bestie, thank you for proofreading and loving this book as much as you did! I’m so blessed to have met you and I can’t wait to see what comes next in the adventures of Ashley and Anne.

For the cowboy, Jackson Young at Mini-Movies Trailers, thank you for bringing my words to life. It has been a pleasure watching your creative vision form into such a brilliant trailer.