Page 91 of A Cowboy's Claim

“Thanks,” he said, voice thick.

Declan clapped him on the back. “Anytime, kid. You’re one of us now.”

And for the first time in days, it felt like maybe the shadows were starting to lift.

Three days later, Jake got a message from his contact sharing that Dean had contacted the RCMP counsel and confirmed the full contents of the USB. The information Petra decrypted had been enough to trigger the first wave of investigations, and as promised, Logan’s name never came up.

Logan said little when they told him, but he immediately headed out.

Four hours later Declan spotted him repainting the south fence line without being asked —

A quiet thank-you in the language of High Water ranch. Pay it forward.

There were exactlysix balloons taped to the corner of the porch, and someone—probably Tansy—had writtenYOU ARE OFFICIALLY OLDin glitter pen on a scrap of cardboard and hung it over the swing.

Sydney didn’t feel old. She felt cracked.

Not in a bad way, just peeled back, armor stripped away, and underneath was all the soft stuff she didn’t usually let anyone see.

Love. Fear. Hope.

A woman who still wasn’t quite sure what came next—but at least now she knew what she wanted.

The screen of her phone lit up with a call fromMom, and Sydney stared at it for three full rings before answering.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart!” Marie’s voice was bright and warm. Behind her, a flash of Grandma Belinda’s garden came into view before Marie turned the camera back toward herself.

Sydney propped her phone up on the porch railing then leaned back against the weatherworn wall, hands wrapped around a warm mug of tea. “Thanks, Mom.”

“You look tired but better than the last time we chatted.” Marie tilted her head. “Not working today, I hope?”

“Only accepting hugs and cupcakes from friends.”

Marie grinned. “Good. Everyone should be spoiled a little on their birthday.”

There was a pause. Not awkward, just weighted.

Sydney swallowed. “Thanks for calling.”

“I always will.” Her mother smiled again, but this time the expression was quieter, more careful. “You know, I’ve been thinking about our last call.”

“I have too,” Sydney admitted. “But I haven’t really known what to say. Or how to say it.”

“Start small, then.”

Sydney decided to start big. She glanced toward the front door then back to the screen. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

Her mother’s eyebrows went up.

Sydney didn’t hesitate. “Declan?” she called. “You’re being summoned.”

Declan stepped onto the porch with his usual solid presence, coffee mug in hand and a question on his face.

“Come here, please? I’ve got my mom on chat.” When he stepped into the camera view, Sydney caught his hand with her free fingers and held on tight as she looked into his eyes. “Mom, this is Declan Skye,” Sydney said, her voice gentle but sure, staring directly at him, speaking to him. “The man I love. The one who makes me feel safe and strong and like myself. And the one I absolutely plan to keep.”

He smiled. The barest hint of a curl to his lips, but his entire face was filled with so much love she couldn’t keep from smiling back. Offering up her own honest, heartfelt response.

A soft murmur finally registered, and Declan laughed, tilting his head toward her phone. “Audience.”