The Outlaw by Jennifer Millikin
Epilogue
Six Months Later
Wyatt
The kitchen counter is loaded with groceries. I think I’ve purchased everything a hungry teenage boy could want. We’re on our own tonight. Jo, in an effort to be traditional, insisted we spend the night before our wedding apart from one another. I’d argued, but she got her way. She left about an hour ago with an overnight bag and a departing kiss. I’d told her to tell Shelby I said hello.
So now it’s just me and Travis once he gets home from school. I’d called Tenley earlier for advice. She’s the only stepparent I know. She’d pointed out it’s not the same, because Peyton and Charlie still have their mom, and Travis has never had a father.
Which got me thinking. What did my dad do for me that I would've missed if I’d been raised by a single-mother?
This is how I ended up with a truck full of stuff. We’re going to grill. Camp. Shoot. Toss a football. All things my dad did with us.
Travis walks into Wildflower twenty minutes later and places his keys on the hook Jo has on a wall in the kitchen. He’s only been driving for a short time, and Jo looks like she’s swallowing nerves every time he drives off, but it was important to me to make sure he had a way to get around. After all he’s been through, I want to keep him on the same general timeline as his peers. The truck was a gift from the Hayden family, an old beat-up thing that each Hayden boy drove when the time came. Not Jessie, though. She got a shiny new car, of course.
“I hope you’re hungry,” I tell Travis, taking steaks out of their packaging. I set them aside to allow them to come to room temperature.
Travis eyes the food. He grabs a bag of potato chips and opens it. “Starved,” he says, shoving in a handful.
“So look,” I say, striding out of the kitchen and into the living room. Jo has done an incredible job decorating. Everything is warm, inviting. Bookcases with books from every genre, overstuffed chairs the kids can sink into and get lost in a story. Sawyer found old maps from the days when Wildflower was Circle B and operating as a working ranch. Now they are framed on the walls, alongside a large sign that says The World Needs You.
As far as Sawyer is concerned, I don’t think he’s a threat. I confronted him about what I learned, and he told me he’d come to town to sell the ranch, and stayed because he’d lost his wife and being here reminded him of a time when he was a kid and felt truly happy. If that shit doesn't make a man emotional, he’s a robot. He also said he’d picked Jo to buy the ranch because she had the best plan for it. I left him alone after that.
I pick up two of my purchases off the couch. “On my last night as a single man, I have a few requests, and I need a wingman. Are you up for the task?”
Travis’s eyebrows lift. “A BB gun?”
“I assumed you’ve never shot before, and it’s a good place to start.”
He nods. “Okay. Yeah.” He’s trying to play it cool, but there’s excitement hiding in his nonchalance.
“Also,” I lift up the second box, “I want to camp.”
At this he makes a face. “I’ve never camped before.”
“There’s a first time for everything. Grab a box and follow me.”
It doesn't take too long to get all our stuff out back and situated. The tent is a bit trickier than I expected, probably because they're aren't at least four of us putting it together like when I was growing up.
“Are you sure you don’t want Wes and Warner out here to be your wingmen?” Travis struggles to drive the stake into the ground.
I grunt as I drive my stake into the hard earth. “Screw those assholes.”
Travis laughs and wipes a hand across his forehead. We finish the job, and later, when we’re watching the flames from the fire pit twist up into the night sky, I hand him something I worked hard to sneak out of the house.
“A fishing pole?” he turns it back and forth.
“Have you ever fished?”
“No.” He pretends to cast. I smile. His technique is as bad as mine was when I first started. That’s what I’m here for. To teach him. Not just about how to fish, but to show him the beauty in being outside. Cultivating the art of patience. The appreciation for nature. All invaluable lessons taught to me.
“Travis,” I start, sorting out how to say everything I’ve been thinking about. “I want you to know I’m not just marrying your mom. You’re a part of this, too. A package deal. I understand all this has been a lot for you, and things haven't been simple. I want you to know we can be as much of a family as you want to be.” I cross my ankles, my hands stuffed in the pockets of my sweatshirt. “I will be there for you in whatever capacity you allow, and I won’t let you down. Ever.”
Travis’s eyes are trained on the fire. I don’t blame him. I don’t know a teenage boy who responds enthusiastically to emotional declarations. But then he looks up at me. Firelight jumps around in the shine in his eyes.
“I want you to adopt me. I know I’ll be an adult in a couple years, but”—Travis lifts his shoulders to his ears and drops them—“I want to feel like I belong to someone. Like I have parents.”
I reach over, place my hand on his shoulder. One squeeze. Two pats. “It would be an honor, Travis.”
He may or may not see the tear rolling down my cheek. I don’t make a move to wipe it away. In addition to teaching him how to fish and shoot, I’m going to show him it’s okay for men to have emotions. I’m going to take every good thing my dad taught me, and add to it.
Jo
"You look stunning, darling." My mom puts her hands on either side of my face and kisses my forehead. I smile as best as I can and accept the love she's trying to show me. Years of hurt cannot be replaced with her apology, but the fact that she gave custody of Travis back over to me without a fight was a huge step in the right direction.
My wedding dress is ivory satin, with a lace overlay. I didn't think I'd opt for something so feminine, but when Tenley brought it to me during our girls’ wedding dress weekend in Phoenix, I humored her by trying it on. Then I fell in love with it.
But not nearly as in love as I am with Wyatt. That man once drove me crazy, and he still does now, but in an entirely different way.
Dakota comes in and tells me it's all set. Colt kicks his legs to get down out of her arms but she holds fast to him. His behind-the-ear hearing aid is hardly noticeable, and his loss of hearing hasn't stopped him from turning into a headstrong toddler.
I take one last look in the mirror. Travis comes forward, extending his bent arm toward me. He will walk me down the aisle.
My son. When it comes to him, I'm filled with regret. I can only hope time heals us, that we form new memories, and use those as our foundation. Like my own mother, the apology doesn't replace the pain, but as long as we spend every day trying, we'll get there someday.
The music starts up, and that's my cue. I walk toward the chapel where Dakota and Wes married, and Warner and Tenley. It must be good luck to follow those two couples.
Fairy lights are woven into the flower garlands that wrap around the columns of the chapel. A long white runner extends out the open doors and down the steps. Candles flicker in tall candelabras on either side. Dakota decorates the same way she lives life. With so much love.
"You ready, Mom?" Travis asks. He's been calling me Mom for a few months. I didn't say anything when he started it, fearing it would make him stop. Every time he says it, it's like my heart gets a little hug.
"Let's do it."
Dakota hired a string quartet for the ceremony, and she gives them the signal to start playing my wedding march. The first notes fill the air, and the small crowd turns around. All eyes are on me, but there's only one place for my gaze.
Wyatt, at the end of the aisle. Wyatt, with his dark hair slicked back, so handsome in his tux. The man my heart gravitated toward for years, who had his own demons to slay before he could love me.
I'm halfway there, halfway to him, when he wipes a tear from his face. It prompts my own. I can't believe the journey we had to go on before we were given to each other.
We reach the end of the aisle, and when the pastor asks who is giving me away, Travis says, "I'm giving my mom away," and kisses my cheek, and it's everything I can do not to break down.
Wyatt and I promise to love each other through it all, to honor and cherish one another. We exchange rings, we say I do, and he kisses me in a way that is appropriate for the given audience but promises more later.
Later, after pictures and cocktails, Wyatt leads me out to the pecan trees, past the point where the lights reach. The food will be served soon, so we don't have more than a few minutes, but we make the most of it.
"You are so beautiful tonight, Jo," Wyatt whispers against my skin.
I giggle. I've already had two glasses of champagne. "You've said that twenty times, husband."
"Be prepared to hear it twenty more," he growls into my ear, dragging his teeth along the outer edge.
I make an incoherent sound. "Take me home."
"I think we'd be missed."
"Fine, we can stay."
He laughs and kisses me senseless, until I'm certain my lips are bruised. When we rejoin the party, Shelby gives me a knowing look. She picks at my hair. "You literally have bark from the pecan tree in your hair."
"Oopsie," I sing.
She laughs. "You're not even drunk enough to be acting like that."
"Drunk in love," I remind her. Two arms encircle me from behind. I look down and spot Wyatt's newly appointed gunmetal gray wedding ring on his finger.
Shelby gives him a look. "I have something interesting to tell you."
"Oh yeah?" His deep voice tumbles over me. "What's that?"
"Your buddy Dan Howard was fired from the force yesterday. Someone anonymously sent the sheriff photos of Dan having himself quite the party."
"I hope it was worth it," Wyatt responds.
"You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"
"Are you asking me in an official capacity?"
"No."
"Then…" Wyatt draws it out. "No. I don't know anything about it."
Shelby throws up her hands and walks away.
I turn around and slide my hands up his neck. "What did you do?"
"Dan was in bed with the Marks brothers. I can’t confirm it, but I’m positive he was looking the other way in exchange for a cut of the profits. So I made a way for Dan to let off some steam a few towns over, and then I made sure someone got pictures of it."
It doesn't even surprise me. This is what Wyatt does.
"What kind of party was it?" I ask out of curiosity.
"Hookers and cocaine," he says matter of factly.
I try not to show my shock. "Um, well. I guess Shelby was right. Quite the party."
Wyatt lifts my hand and kisses it. I do him one better and kiss him on the mouth. The rest of the night is a blur. I dance with every Hayden man, including Gramps. We laugh. We eat, we drink, we're as merry as can be, which is good because tomorrow I have to get right back to work. Wildflower Ranch won't run itself, and all the campers arrive next week. We are fully booked and fully staffed. I'd spent many nights awake and worried I wouldn't be able to entice a psychologist to the small town of Sierra Grande, and then, like a miracle, it happened. I sat at Marigolds drinking coffee one day and in walked a woman. She came straight to me, smoothed her pressed navy blue skirt, and slid her résumé across the table.
Sara Schultz. Psychologist with a focus on family and behavioral health. I hadn't a clue. I hired her on the spot.
I needed her desperately, as that was my only empty position, and she needed me too. With Mickey completing rehab and in anger management, she needed to support her family.
Wyatt drives me back to the ranch in his truck that's been decorated with tin cans. He pulls over as soon as we’re far enough away from The Orchard and rips them from the truck and tosses them in the bed. The whole way home we hear them rolling around. Travis is going home with Beau and Juliette tonight.
Since we only have this one night alone, I'm planning to make it good. Tenley gave me the most beautiful lingerie at my bridal shower, and I'm wearing it under my dress.
Wyatt appreciates it, but not for long. He devours me the second I step out of my dress.
Afterward, he runs a bath for us, this time with real running water. My heart swells as I watch him testing the water temperature. He gets in first, and I sink in after him, settling between his legs. He rubs soap in his palms and washes my arms and my breasts, kneading my shoulders and my upper back. "You're perfect, Jo. I love you."
I lean back into him, relishing the feel of his warm chest on the back of my neck. When I was younger, I didn't expect much from my life because I was told not to. When I was older, I didn't expect much because I didn't think I deserved it.
Then Wyatt showed up and taught me how to fight for myself. For my hopes and dreams.
I used what I learned, and I fought for him.
I lean back and look up at my husband. "You're a person worth loving, Wyatt. And I'll make sure you never forget it."
The End
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