Page 24 of Claimed by the Cowboy (Havenstone: Mail Order Brides #3)
Luna arrives with a tray of tea and cookies. Snowflakes glitter in her blonde hair, and her cheeks are pink from the cold. “Kitty, I had an idea—what if we did seasonal blends? Like Huckleberry Mint in summer, Spiced Chamomile in winter? We could launch a Christmas collection next year.”
Kitty’s eyes brighten as she bounces Max gently on her hip. “Yes! And we could pair them with soaps or lotions in the same scent. A whole line. We could call it… Havenridge Botanicals.”
“Catchy,” Luna agrees, setting her tray beside the cinnamon rolls. “You’re already building the apothecary side, I’m growing produce and herbs, and”—she looks slyly at Shay, who comes in with a plate covered in foil—“we have a secret weapon.”
Shay laughs. “Oh, no. Don’t drag me into your schemes.”
“You make the best pie this side of the Rockies,” I remind her, tugging the foil back to reveal a golden-crusted huckleberry masterpiece. “If you don’t put your name on the business, I’m doing it for you.”
“Can you imagine?” Kitty grins. “Goat’s milk soap, herbal teas, and Shay’s Huckleberry Pie. We’d have to fight people off with sticks at the farmer’s market.”
Shay laughs. “I just had a baby. My brain is mush.”
“Which is exactly why we’re plotting now,” Luna says with a smirk. “While you’re too sleep-deprived to argue.”
Henry mutters, “God help us if the women join forces. We’ll never win another argument.”
Angus claps him on the back. “We never did, brother.”
Dad arrives last. His movements are slower these days, but his smile is easy as he surveys the chaos with something close to wonder. “Your mother would’ve loved this,” he says, his voice a little rough. “Noise, food, snow on the ground, babies. Christmas the way it ought to be.”
A pang tightens my chest, but it’s not the heavy grief anymore. It’s lighter now—gratitude braided with missing her. “She’s here,” I say quietly, meeting Dad’s gaze. “Every time we sit down together, she’s here.”
Dad nods as he sits at the table, looking happier than I’ve seen him in years. “Yeah, she’d be proud of you all. Proud of what this family’s becoming.” He pauses, looking around. “No Delaney?”
“She’s still recovering from an awful cold, poor thing. I’m sure Daniel is making sure she doesn’t lift a finger,” Kitty says with a knowing smile. “She said she’ll be well enough for Christmas dinner at the ranch house.”
We all glance at the tree, lights twinkling, gifts tucked beneath, snow drifting past the window. For a moment, I swear Mom is right here with us, smiling as she watches her sons, her grandkid, her daughters-in-law.
I catch Kitty’s eye across the kitchen, where she’s still holding Max, her smile soft and certain. And I know she feels it too—that we’re building something bigger than just us.
Soon, our kitchen table is full of family and conversation, and I find myself watching Kitty with something close to awe.
Six months ago, she would have made herself invisible during conversations like this. Now, she holds her own with ease, laughing and teasing like she’s always belonged here.
Because she has. She belongs here because we all love her, but more than that—she belongs here because she chose it. Chose us. Chose me.
“Oh, before I forget,” Kitty says during a lull in conversation. She disappears into our bedroom, returning with a small glass jar. “I finally perfected the recipe for Uncle Jacob’s eczema.”
Everyone stills at the mention of Jacob’s name.
Oblivious, Kitty sets the jar down, her voice warm with pride. “Chamomile and calendula from Ruth’s garden, and licorice from near the creek. Beeswax base. It should ease the itching.”
Dad clears his throat, eyebrows lifting. “Jacob’s getting the fancy creams, huh? Guess I’ll just keep limping around until someone remembers my arthritic knees.”
Kitty only smiles, sliding into the seat beside him and squeezing his arm. “You’re next, Dad. I’ve been testing an anti-inflammatory blend for inflamed joints.”
He blinks, surprised as she calls him “Dad.” His mouth opens like he’s going to say something, but then his shoulders loosen and the hard lines around his eyes soften.
Angus cuts the moment with a knowing look. “Maybe you and Uncle Jacob wouldn’t need the creams if you stopped butting heads long enough to share a bottle of whiskey.”
Henry nods. “Truth. Half the time, I think you two don’t even remember why you’re mad at your brother. It’s become a habit now.”
Dad grumbles, but the edge is gone. Kitty’s still smiling at him like she didn’t just disarm the man with one word.
“Jacob will be grateful,” I say, reaching for her hand. “That condition’s been bothering him for years.”
Jacob, who rarely lets anyone in, instantly liked Kitty when I took her to meet him. He never stood a chance against her quiet kindness. She has a way of winning people over without even trying.
Kitty beams as her fingers twine with mine. “It feels good to use this knowledge for something important.”
She’s done more than restore Mom's herb garden—she’s carried on her legacy of healing. Of caring for family in ways that matter.
An hour later, after everyone's headed back to their own chaos, I wrap my arm around Kitty’s shoulders and pull her onto my lap at the kitchen table. “Do you ever think about that first day when you stepped off the bus?”
“I was terrified! So sure I didn't belong anywhere, especially not somewhere as beautiful as this.” She gestures toward the mountains through the window. “I thought I was the tagalong sister who would mess everything up.”
“You were exactly what this place needed.” The conviction in my voice makes her look up. “What I needed.”
“How could you know? I was nobody special.”
I turn to face her. “You want to know what I saw that first day? A woman brave enough to start over somewhere completely unknown. Someone who sneezed at the chaos and said ‘pineapple’ instead of running.”
“Oh, God, the sneezing fit.” Her cheeks flush with remembered embarrassment.
“Best mistake I ever made was falling for the wrong sister,” I say, pressing my forehead against hers. “Because she turned out to be exactly the right woman.”
Kitty’s eyes turn misty. “Tom...”
“I love you, Kitty Sutton. I love how you make everything brighter, warmer, more alive. How you make ordinary moments feel special just by being here.I love watching you bring things back to life—Mom’s garden, this family.
Me.” I kiss her softly, tasting the sweetness that’s purely her.
“I love knowing that every morning for the rest of my life, I get to wake up to you stealing my shirts and making our house feel like home.”
“Every morning,” she agrees, dashing away a tear and kissing me back with absolute certainty. “For the rest of our very long, very happy lives.”
“Starting with this morning,” I murmur against her lips. “Because I'm not nearly finished appreciating my wife.”
Her breath catches when I stand with her in my arms. “Tom, it’s barely noon...”
“Good. I want to see every expression on your beautiful face when I make you come all over my cock.” I carry her toward our bedroom. “I want to watch you fall apart in our bed and know that you’re mine. Completely, absolutely mine.”
“Always yours,” she breathes as I tumble her onto our bed.
As I lose myself in my woman, a goat bleats its approval from somewhere nearby while the ranch continues its daily rhythm.
This is our life. Beautiful, chaotic, absolutely perfect.
And I plan to spend every single day showing my wife exactly how much I appreciate it.
Thank you for reading!