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His tiny fingers curled into a fist near his cheek, and his little nose scrunched like he had something important to be mad about.
I swallowed hard, my throat tight.
"I didn’t always know if I wanted this," I admitted, my voice rough. "I didn’t deserve it either.”
The words came easier in the night, easier with him cradled in my arms, easier when the land stretched out before us like it had all been leading to this.
"But your granddaddy, he fought for this place. And your mama, she kept it safe for me, even when I was too damn stupid to see it."
A breeze rustled through the cottonwoods, stirring the grass and whispering as if Nash were here to see his grandson.
"And I’ll do the same for you," I vowed. "I’ll keep it whole, keep it wild, keep it yours."
The front door creaked behind me.
I turned as Elena stepped onto the porch, wrappedup in one of my old flannels, her hair loose around her shoulders, her eyes soft with sleep.
"He hungry?" she murmured.
I shook my head. "I wanted to show him."
She smiled, stepping closer, pressing her cheek against my shoulder, her arms coming around us both. She fit against me the way she always had—perfectly.
"He’s gonna love it here," she whispered, brushing a finger down River’s soft, round cheek.
I pressed a kiss to her hair, breathing her in, breathing all of it in.
"Yeah," I said, my heart full. "He is."
And standing there, holding my son, my woman, and my legacy, standing on the land that would outlive us, I knew I’d never been surer of anything in my whole damn life.