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Montana Territory, 1885
“Papa! The new foal’s comin’!”
Little Maggie McCade’s excited voice rang through the crisp morning air, cutting through the mist of dawn that still clung to the meadow grass like nature’s own lace veil. The sound of thundering footsteps accompanied her call as her seven-year-old twin brother Thomas barreled down the freshly painted porch steps of their sprawling ranch house, sending the chickens scattering in his wake as his boots kicked up dust clouds.
Gunner McCade lifted his head from where he had been mending a bridle, his weathered hands stilling on the leather. Ten years had added silver threads to his hair and deep laugh lines around his amber eyes, but they had done nothing to diminish the powerful set of his shoulders, or the alert way he carried himself. Some habits, learned from years on the run, died hard. Others, like the way his heart squeezed at the sight of his children’s excitement, had become as natural as breathing.
“Slow down there, little spitfire,” he called out to Maggie, using the nickname that never failed to make Loretta smile. “That mare ain’t gonna foal any faster with you two raisin’ such a ruckus.”
“But Pa,” Thomas protested, his hazel eyes – exact replicas of his mama’s – sparkling with anticipation, “it’s her first foal, and Uncle Wyatt said-”
“Your Uncle Wyatt,” came Loretta’s voice from the doorway on the porch, “needs to stop fillin’ your heads with tales about every horse bein’ destined for the racin’ circuit.” She stepped out onto the porch, wiping her hands on her apron, the morning sun catching the mahogany highlights in her hair. She held tTheir youngest, three-year-old Emma, balanced on her hip, thumb stuck firmly in her mouth nuzzled her little face against Loretta’s chest as she blinked sleepily at the commotion.
The sight of them there, framed by the doorway of the home they had built together, struck Gunner with the same force as that first moment he had laid eyes on Loretta. Back then, he had been a man with nothing but lies and stolen gold to his name. Now, watching the way Emma’s curls caught the morning light – the same light brown shade as his own – he marveled at how the truth had set him free in ways he could never have imagined possible.
“Speakin’ of my wayward brother,” Loretta continued, descending the steps with practiced grace, “he and Sylvia should be arrivin’ any minute with the new schoolteacher. Though, I suspect we’ll bee seein’ a lot more of Miss Costner, given how Wyatt’s been findin’ excuses to ride into town lately.”
Gunner rose to press a kiss to Emma’s curls and steal a proper good morning kiss from his wife. “Reckon some things run in the family,” he murmured against her lips. “Fallin’ hard and fast for someone who changes just about everythin’.”
“You silver-tongued charmer,” Loretta laughed, though her cheeks flushed pink., “Ten years of marriage and you still talk like you’re tryin’ to win my hand.”
“Ain’t tryin’ to win nothing’,” he replied, serious now. “Just statin’ the truth. Took me long enough to learn how.”
Their moment was interrupted by the thunder of hooves approaching from the main road. Gunner’s hand twitched toward where he had once carried a gun, but the only weapons he kept these days were locked away safely. Blackstone Ranch’s prosperity had long since convinced any remaining troublemakers to seek easier targets, though old instincts died hard.
Wyatt’s cheerful whistle preceded the sight of his horse, followed by Sylvia’s wagon, a young woman perched beside her. At their young age, the twins had been little more than their own children. Now, at twenty-five, they were accomplished adults in their own right. Sylvia had taken over most of the ranch’s business dealings, proving to have a head for figures that put her siblings to shame. And Wyatt… well, judging by the way he kept stealing glances at the pretty blonde schoolteacher, Gunner suspected the young horse-trainer would be planning a wedding before the year was out.
“Brought you a surprise!” Wyatt called out, swinging down from his horse with the easy grace he had learned from Gunner himself. “Look what we found at the station.”
From behind the wagon, emerged a familiar, broad-shouldered figure that had Loretta squealing in delight. “Dalton! We weren’t expectin’ you until next week!” she handed Emma to Gunner before rushing to embrace her brother-in-law.
“Hariette insisted we come early,” Dalton explained, returning the hug before reaching back to help his very pregnant wife down from the wagon. “Said she wouldn’t miss her niece or nephew’s birth for all the tea in China.”
“As if she’d let me,” Hariette added with a laugh as she glanced at Loretta, one hand resting on her swollen belly. “Though, I suspect this little one might make an appearance sooner than we thought.”
“The good Lord willin’,” Loretta replied, embracing her sister carefully around their matching bellies. “God above surely got a good sense of humor, blessin’ us both at the same time.”
Gunner lingered back, letting the woman talk as his gaze shifted to the horizon, where the golden morning light kissed the hills. The twins’ laughter floated on the breeze, mingling with the soft murmur of cattle lowing in the pastures. It was moments like this that still managed to catch him off guard – how the ranch had grown, not just in size, but in spirit. It wasn’t just a patch of land anymore. It was alive, filled with voices, memories, and the kind of love he hadn’t dared to dream about when he was still running from his past.
His eyes found Loretta again, her head tipped back in laughter as Hariette gestured animatedly. There was a time when he’d thought he’d never be worthy of standing beside her, let alone building a life with her. But somehow, against all odds, they’d built something solid, something lasting. Thomas’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Papa! Are you listening?” he stood with his hands at his sides, slightly clenched. “I reckon that foal’s gonna be the fastest horse in Montana. I just got a feelin’!”
Gunner chuckled, dipping his chin at his son. “We’ll see about that. Let’s just make sure its standin’ on all four legs, first.”
“Mama!” Maggie’s voice cut through the reunion. “The foal, it’s got a blaze down it’sits nose! Just like in Papa’s stories!”
“Well now,” Gunner drawled, adjusting Emma on his hip. “Sseems to me that calls for a celebration. What do you say, Mrs. McCade? Might be time to break out that berry pie I saw you hidin’ in the pantry last night.”
“Still sneakin’ around my kitchen after all these years,” Loretta teased, though her eyes danced with mischief. “Some things never change, do they?”
“Some things shouldn’t,” he replied tenderly, earning himself another blush from his wife.
They all made their way to the barn, the children racing ahead while Missrs. Costner hung back, taking in the sprawling ranch with wide eyes. Gunner couldn’t blame her – the place had grown considerably since that first day he had arrived with nothing but stolen papers and desperate plans in his saddlebags. The main house had since doubled in size, with a proper second story now, and a wraparound porch that caught the evening breeze. The barn was new, built three years back after a lightning strike had taketaken the old one. Even the corrals had expanded, stretching toward the creek where they had built a proper watering station for the growing herd.
But it was not the buildings that made the place a home. It was the way Thomas had carved his initials into the porch swing, right next to where Maggie had added hers. It was Emma’s toy horse sitting proudly on the windowsill, and the way Loretta’s flowers bloomed wild and cheerful along every walkway. It was the sound of family filling every corner of the property, from the cookhouse where ranch hands gathered for Loretta’s famous meals, to the newly built schoolroom where the twins studied alongside the children of neighboring homesteads.
Inside the barn, the new foal was already trying to stand on wobbly legs, its mother nickering encouragingly to her firstborn. The sight brought Gunner back to that first spring on the ranch, when he had free a calf from barbed wire. That had been the moment, he realized later, when he’d first started thinking of the ranch as a home, rather than just a convenient hiding place.
“She’s beautiful,” Miss Costner breathed, watching the foal with genuine wonder. “I’ve never seen anythin’ like it.”
“Wait ‘till you see her run,.” Wyatt said quickly, then ducked his head when Sylvia shot him a knowing look. “I mean, once she’s old enough, of course.”
“Don’t go promisin’ away my horse’s offspring just yet,” Gunner warned good-naturedly. “Though, I reckon we might be able to arrange somethin’, say… as a weddin’ present. When the time comes.”
The way Wyatt’s ears turned bright red had everyone laughing, though the schoolteacher’s pretty blush suggested such an arrangement might not be as far-fetched as it seemed. The moment reminded Gunner of his own courtship days – if you could call them that, given how backwards they had gone about things. Gunner watched as Wyatt fumbled for words, his usual easy charm deserting him under the schoolteacher’s steady gaze. Miss Costner had a quietness about her, the kind that put people at ease, but hid steel underneath the surface. Gunner recognized the look in Wyatt’s eyes – it was the same way he’d felt the first time Loretta had looked at him like he was more than just a drifter with a bad reputation.
“You know,” Sylvia mused, reaching out to stroke the mare’s gleaming neck. “I remember when Gunner first brought her home. Weren’t but a scared little filly then, all legs and spirit, not sure whether to trust or bolt.” Her knowing glance made Gunner shift his weight, recognizing the parallel she was drawing. “Ain’t it funny how the right handlin’ can gentle even the wildest heart?”
“Some hearts don’t need tamin’,” Hariette added softly, one hand pressed to her back as she eased onto a hay bale. “They just need someone to see past the wild, to what lies beneath.” She smiled at her sister. “Like you did, Lottie-Lou.”
“Lord knows I needed the seeing-past more than the gentling,” Gunner admitted, bouncing Emma as she started to fuss. The little one had her mama’s determination – wouldn’t settle for anyone but who she wanted, when she wanted them. “Though your sister did plenty of that too.”
A comfortable silence fell, broken only by the soft sounds of the horses and the distant laughter of the twins, who had wandered out to the creek to skip stones – a skill Gunner had taught them one lazy Sunday afternoon, the same way his own father had taught him, back before life had turned him toward darker paths.
“I’ve been meanin’ to ask,” Dalton said, his deep voice thoughtful as he helped his wife to her feet again. “Whatever happened to that old wanted poster that Montgomery used to threaten you with? The one with your real name on it?”
Loretta’s eyes met Gunner’s, a secret smile playing at her lips. “Oh, that old thing? It’s framed up in our bedroom.”
“Framed?” Miss Costner’s eyes widened, but Wyatt was nodding as if it made perfect sense.
“Sure is,” Gunner drawled, shifting Emma to his other hip. “Loretta says it reminds her that people can change their story, if they’re given reason enough to try.” He paused, remembering that desperate man he had been, running from his past and toward what he had thought was just another score. “Though sometimes, the reason finds you, even when you’re not lookin’ for it.”
The afternoon stretched golden around them, the kind of perfect Montana day that made a man believe in providence. Through the barn doors, Gunner could see the ranch spreading out like a painting – the new fields they had cleared for next year’s crops, the apple trees they had planted when the twins were born just starting to bear fruit, the smoke rising from the cookhouse chimney where Loretta’s latest ranch hand’s wife was proving to be almost as good a cook as her employer.
Later, after the excitement had died down and the children hand been corralled into their studies – with Miss Costner proving herself more than capable of handling their enthusiasm – Gunner found Loretta in their bedroom, folding laundry with that faraway look she sometimes got.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe.
She smiled, setting aside one of Emma’s dresses. “Just thinkin’ about that advertisement I placed, all those years ago. Seekin’ a man of honor and integrity, willin’ to work hard and love deeply.” Her smile turned impish. “Funny how I got exactly what I asked for, even if it came in an unexpected package.”
“Reckon that’s givin’ me too much credit,” Gunner said, crossing to help her with the folding. “I came here plannin’ to steal everythin’ you had.”
“And instead?” she prompted, like she always did when he got these moods.
“Instead, I found everythin’ I never knew I needed.” He set down the shirt he had been folding and drew her into his arms, one hand spanning protectively over where their next child grew. “A home. A Family. A chance to be the man you saw in me, even if I couldn’t see it myself.”
“My reformed bandit,” she murmured fondly, reaching up to trace the scar on his eyebrow. “Though I suspect you’re still stealin’ things around here.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Mmhmm. My heart, every single day.”
“Now who’s the silver-tongued charmer?” he laughed but held her closer all the same.
Through the open window came the sounds of their life together – the twins arguing good-naturedly over their arithmetic, Emma’s high giggle as she played with her aunt and uncle, Wyatt’s voice raised in song as he worked with the horses. Somewhere in the distance, a meadowlark called to its mate, and the breeze carried the sweet scent of Loretta’s lavender from the garden.
“You know, he said thoughtfully, “I’ve been thinkin’ about that piece of land over by the creek. Might make a fine weddin’ present for Wyatt, onceWyatt once he gets himself around to askin’ Miss Costner.”
Loretta’s answering laugh warmed him better than any summer sun. “Already plannin’ the next generation of the ranch, are you?”
“Well now, somebody’s gotta keep an eye on the future,” he paused, considering his words. “Besides, a man who’s been blessed with more than he ever deserved ought to make sure there’s somethin’ worth passin’ on.”
“I’d say you’ve already managed that just fine, darlin’.”
As the afternoon light painted long shadow across their bedroom floor, Gunner reflected that some things were worth more than all the gold in California. Love. Trust. Redemption. The chance to build something lasting. He had come to the ranch looking for a fortune to steal, but he had found something far more precious – a future worth building, a family worth protecting, and a love worth any price.
The warm Montana wind swept across the prairie, carrying with it the promise of summer storms and new beginnings. Outside their window, the Territory stretched vast and wild, but right here, in this moment, Gunner McCade was exactly where he belonged. The bandit had found his home, and more importantly, he had found his heart.
And that, he reckoned, was worth more than all the money in the world.
OFFER: A BRAND NEW SERIES AND 2 FREEBIES FOR YOU!
Grab my new series, "Western Brides and True Loves", and get 2 FREE novels as a gift! Have a look here!
Greetings, dear readers! I trust you relished the blissful conclusion of Loretta and Luke’s love story. Let’s reminisce together—what was the most heartwarming moment in their romantic journey? Share your thoughts with me, for I cherish your input! ♥️📚
A sweet story