Page 65 of Wild Hearts (Ruby Ridge #1)

. . .

Catalina

One year later

T he breeze smells like wildflowers and fresh-cut grass, and somewhere behind me, Maverick is cursing at the Bluetooth speaker while Layla laughs too loudly.

But my focus is locked on one thing.

Him.

Carter’s standing at the end of the aisle in a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows, giving me a peek of his tatted skin.

His hands are clasped in front of him like he’s barely holding it together.

His hair is wind-tousled underneath his black cowboy hat, but the look in his eyes is every version of love I never thought I’d get to keep.

He’s everything steady, and he’s mine.

Blue Moon Ranch isn’t fancy, but today, it’s magic. White chairs circle under a wooden arch draped in soft linen and strings of fairy lights.

A few of our closest people fill the space. That’s all we wanted.

Just them. Just us. Just something real.

Layla’s already sniffling next to Amelia. Maverick’s pacing in the back with a flask in his pocket and love-sick eyes that keep landing on a woman who pretends she doesn’t notice. Reed, beside him, watches Layla the way Carter watches me, like she hung the moon, even if she doesn’t know it yet.

And me? I’m walking down the aisle barefoot, carrying a bouquet of purple pansies, as each step presses into the earth, anchoring me in a truth I never thought I’d be brave enough to believe—that I made it, that I’m here, that I didn’t just survive, I finally learned how to live, and I’m still breathing.

It took time to reach this place, carved from heartbreak and shaped by grief, layered with the kind of trauma that once left me feeling like I was unraveling at the seams. But somewhere along the way, I discovered something that changed everything.

Just because someone shares your blood doesn’t mean they’ve earned the right to your soul. Sometimes the hardest thing you’ll ever do is choose yourself, especially when the people who were supposed to protect you are the same ones who hurt you.

But you can end the cycle. You can be the one who says no more, and you can find love that doesn’t ask you to earn it.

The officiant clears his throat, the wind gently tugging at the edges of his notes as he glances between us, standing hand in hand beneath the vast Tennessee sky.

“Welcome, everyone,” he begins, “today, we are gathered not just to witness a wedding, but to celebrate something rare. A love that’s been tested, stretched, broken, and still chose to stay. ”

A hush falls over the crowd, save for the soft rustle of fabric and the creak of wooden chairs shifting beneath guests leaning forward.

“This isn’t just about two people promising forever. It’s about the journey that brought them here. The late nights, the loud fights, the soft mornings, and the quiet healing. This love didn’t come easy—and that’s what makes it real.”

Maverick, from the second row, cups his hands around his mouth and yells, “WOO! Say it again, preacher man!”

Laughter ripples through the crowd we call our family, even Carter cracks a grin, but the officiant smiles and nods, letting the moment live.

The officiant meets our eyes again. “Carter, Catalina. You’ve already chosen each other in the ways that matter. But now, it’s time to speak those truths out loud.”

He steps back slightly, motioning to Carter with a quiet nod. “Let’s start with your vows.”

Carter takes my hands in his, his rough fingers brushing over my knuckles. “Catalina,” he says, “I’ve loved you at your loudest and your quietest. When you were bold, when you were afraid, and when you couldn’t see yourself clearly—I saw you. I’ve loved you through it all.”

My throat tightens as I squeeze his hands in mine.

“I don’t need perfection,” he says, “I just need you. I want to walk beside you on the good days, hold you through the bad, and remind you every damn day that wild hearts like yours were never meant to break.”

He lifts my hand and gently slides the ring onto my finger. A classic solitaire diamond set on a gold band. Simple. Timeless. So painfully Carter. His eyes stay on mine, unwavering, as his following words land like a vow straight to my soul.

“I promise to choose you, even when it’s hard. Especially then.”

Tears slip down my cheeks before I can stop them. I exhale shakily, rubbing my fingers across his tattooed knuckles.

“Carter,” I say, voice trembling as I take his hand in mine. “You are the safest place I’ve ever known. You never tried to tame me, you just let me be. Loud, messy, anxious, and full of grief.”

I slide the gold band onto his finger slowly, my eyes catching on the small tattoo just beneath it—the letter C, inked over his ring finger like a vow he made long before this day.

My thumb lingers there, over the steady thrum of his pulse, grounding myself in the rhythm of the man who’s never once let go.

Something about it undoes me—the permanence of that letter, the way he’s always chosen me, in silence even when I couldn’t choose myself.

“You showed me what love looks like when it’s steady.

When it lets you grow, and when it holds you without conditions.

” I swallow the lump in my throat, smiling through the tears that blur my vision.

“I promise never to dim myself again. I’ll meet you in the hard times, and I’ll dance with you in the best ones.

I’ll love you with everything I have, with this wild, fierce, and deeply flawed heart that belongs to you. ”

He doesn’t wait for the officiant to declare us husband and wife. Carter kisses me as he wraps his arms around me like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. And when the officiant finally declares us husband and wife, I feel it deep in my soul—this is what it means to be chosen.

To be safe, to be home .

The music fades out, and the cheers from our friends follow us as Carter takes my hand and leads me through to the open pasture. The cool Tennessee air wraps around us, the night’s quiet except for the distant hum of crickets and the soft echo of celebration happening behind us.

He doesn’t say anything at first, he pulls me into him, as his strong arms wrap around my waist, and holds me like I might disappear if he lets go.

“You okay?” I ask softly, brushing my hand along his chest.

He nods, but there’s something in his eyes, shining beneath the string lights.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he says, as he cups my cheek.

His thumb brushes just beneath my eye, memorizing every freckle and flaw. “But I swear to God, darlin’, I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making sure you never forget how loved you are.”

My throat tightens.

“You already do,” I whisper.

He leans in, kissing my nose, then my forehead. “You’re everything,” he whispers against my skin. “Not just beautiful, smart, or wild in a way I can’t resist. You saved yourself, baby. I just got lucky enough to be the one who got to love you through it.”

A tear slips down my cheek, and he catches it with a gentle kiss.

“I married the love of my life today,” he says, eyes locked with mine. “And I plan on telling you that every single day until I die. You hear me, darlin’?”

I nod, too full of him to speak.

He grins. “Good. Now come here, Mrs. Hayes. Let me hold my wife a little longer.”

Later that night, barefoot under twinkling lights, I catch Layla and Reed disappearing into the dark, her fingers laced through his. Amelia rolls her eyes as Maverick spins her around in the grass, grinning like a damn idiot while she pretends not to care.

I’m standing in Carter’s arms, my cheek pressed to his chest, his lips at my temple.

And I know exactly what this is. This is what it means to have loved, been wrecked, and still show up anyway. This is what it means to break cycles; this is what it means to live with a wild heart.

THE END.