Chapter 53

Things had settled at the ranch by morning, and Cole was glad of it.

Constable Burke had taken Kelvin away, and they were sure the evidence was going to show he’d been the source of the sabotage. Ma was back in fine form, except for the irritation that the senior Dawson would not let her out of his sight. Jack followed her around, curiously attentive to her, even when she told him to leave her be already, and let her get on with her work.

It also turned out there were a few last-minute things to sort out at the build, so he’d headed back, with a few of the group, to finish things up.

As Cole walked around the facility and saw all the stonework and the beautifully repaired foundation, pride blazed in him. No matter how they’d done it, it was good work. Truth be told, they’d caught trouble a few times in the past two weeks for what they’d done. Thank goodness, Jesse was well-connected, and he’d managed to get things smoothed out.

Mostly, their hineys weren’t going to get kicked clear into Saskatchewan for what they'd done.

Especially when the parent’s group, heavily involved in the children’s care, got wind of the difficulty they could have, they too, spoke up. Blasting ‘community involvement’ loud and wide got them points.

Now, they were all in limbo. Things had already been set in motion for the transfer of the kids to various facilities across Canada, but they all hoped like hell it would be reversed, and that the kids could stay where they were happy, and close to their families.

In the meantime, they had a job to finish. Cole caught sight of Tabby, and his heart beat fast, again. There she was, working away with Spence, laughing over something.

He strode over, touched her lightly on the arm, saw the flash of surprise in her eyes. “Cutting in here, Spence. Tabby. Care to join me for a bite?”

* * *

Tabby sat on the grassy knoll beside Cole, with a special care package from Dax. Thick salami sandwiches on hearty rye bread with lots of butter, pickles and mustard, along with sliced, pale green peppers and quartered, fresh tomatoes, were on the menu. There was sparkling, ice-cold Coke to wash it down with. It was one of Dax’s rare concessions to junk food and they tossed it back, gratefully.

Now, suddenly, Tabby didn’t know what to say. Or do. With all the excitement, work, and deadlines that had descended on them, they hadn’t had a chance to talk. She was so proud of what Cole had done. Unspeakably proud.

He’d done a major shift. From someone who felt he had nothing to give and had been defeated, to someone who took the bull by the horns, and was still all about changing the world for the better. Charging at it, in fact, not holding back. She was blown away. He’d done all that despite his own troubles, and the demons that were still likely dogging him.

Most importantly? It seemed he’d now decided that owning a ranch, or having a big, respected name did not create his identity. They were still losing the Ridges, in fact, it was almost gone.

Yet, it seemed, he’d made a decision, a life-altering one. She hoped he had, because it mattered like hell that he get it. Weakness, in any area—abundance, health, stamina—none of it defined a man. Weaknesses were normal, and part of life. Life itself would dole them out later if not sooner. No one escaped it.

But they did not define a man.

Defining himself? A man did that, all on his own.

She was so damn proud of him.

Curiously, it was the same journey he’d helped her with. Scars on her face, on her body, for all her angsting, actually meant nothing. What meant something was who she was deep inside and how she met the world, no matter what anyone else thought.

They’d both helped each other iron out the same problem, though it had manifested in different ways. And for that, she was grateful.

But the question that was still uppermost on her mind was the one she still didn’t have an answer for.

She finished one half of an enormous sandwich, packed thick with at least an inch of meat, and way more than that in the heaped middle of it. The magic of Dax. “I talked to the publisher and it looks like the book is a go.”

Cole blinked, then his eyes widened. “Holy hell. I forgot all about that. Your second book? Aw, Tabby, way to go. I’m so glad it’s…”

“No, no.” She waved off his well-wishes. “That’s still the same, though I’ve almost finished it, anyway. May self-publish it, do a whole series. We’ll see.”

Understanding dawned in him. “You mean a Dawson Ridges genealogy and history book? That’s really a go?”

Tabby nodded, flicked her hair back as the wind blew it forward. "Something about Heritage Canada and a government grant. They're working on beefing up the volumes of local history all across Canada, and we qualify. Also, remember Nathan, the artist guy? He’s doing the illustrations. It’s all worked out, and it’s going to be beautiful. Not only for us, but possibly, for the market, too. Lots of city types these days want to get back to the land. Who knows how it’ll do?”

The grant was something Amy, back in Jack’s Bay, had suggested she look into, as she was checking it out herself, for her area in Northern Ontario, too.

Tabby smiled at the look of shock on Cole’s face. “Good news, hey?”

Cole nodded. His hand crawled across the grass, and one of his fingers touched hers. “Thank you.”

Tabby tightened. One finger of his…

…was touching one finger of hers.

Voluntarily.

She held her hand where it was, let that damn finger keep touching hers, and found she was struggling to talk. “For what?”

“For everything.” He looked up at the gleaming stone building. They'd actually pressure-washed the stone and now, while it still looked old, it also presented as fresh and vital. Old things made new, damn it.

“Now the last chapter of our story will be a good one. Dawson Ridges may be passing from our family to Black Oaks, but we’ll have done something decent and worthy, as we bow out.” He exhaled a long sigh. “It’s good.”

“Anything else good, in your estimation, Cowboy?” She hated herself for the veiled reference, but there it was. It had to come out somehow, or she’d damn well blow.

Cole shot her a quick glance. “Been doing a lot of thinking the last couple of weeks.”

Something in her throat felt like a big block of lead, and all she could do was nod.

Cole studied her. “Not only about the home, and not just about Quinn and the kid. But about everything. Tabby?” He sighed, a long, pensive sigh. “I’ve missed you like hell.”

She had no words. She was still in. This, now, was up to him.

His eyes grew misty. “I can’t see that I want to do anything big in life, like this, or anything little, for that matter, either, without you. I know I’m not a ranch owner anymore. Not sure if I even qualify as a real man, anymore, so to speak. That’s your side of things, and I guess you’ll have to be making the decisions on that.” He shook his head. “I’m just me. I can’t even take care of my extended family, anymore, the hands, nor the community.”

He seemed to wipe all that away with one big swipe of the back of his hand across his forehead. “I’m just a boy, with a girl. And I love that girl…” his voice shook. “…hopelessly.”

Her eyes welled with tears. She scooted over beside him, knocked a glass of Coke over into the grass, toppled one of the huge sandwiches as well, but didn’t care. She was beside him, on the knoll, where she wanted to be. She threw her arms around him as he reached to hug her. Their foreheads knocked sharply together. They both groaned, then laughed.

The next moment, her heart was finally at rest because the soldier’s strong arms were around her, and they held each other, close.

“Damn you, you big fool,” she whispered. “I love you. That hasn’t changed.”

He swallowed. “Still my gal? Even after all the needless crap I put you through?”

She breathed the answer, and it came quickly. “Always.”

He smiled, and once again, she saw the tentative nature of the hope he held about them.

He’ll likely always be fragile in that area, if he’s honest. But he’s still my man. My protector.

“I’m in, Cowboy. All the way.”

He cleared his throat, and she saw mischief dance in his eyes. Was the old Cole coming back?

She’d stay with either one of the Coles, she decided. And love him. As long as they were together, the decision was made.

Some bonds were stronger than convenience.

“Think you might consider wearing that hot teddy soon? The one the color of sin?”

Oh. That.

She plucked at a strap under her t-shirt, pulled it out. Gave him a pointed glare with upturned brows.

“Damn, Girl. Now? You’re wearing it now? What gives?” His eyes sparkled. “I mean, we could go down into the basement. Old cellar, no one else there. Low ceilings, dust. Ancient beams and boards. New venue, you know? But we could heat it up…”

He looked at her with the air of a conspirator. “Big Cole is ready to go.”

She laughed, let the strap of the red teddy fall back in under her tee. “Well, Big Cole can just hang on until later.” 

Her face flushed, and she felt the familiar attraction for him. And thought of the future. Somewhere naughty? Sure.

Not today, though. She was calling today’s shots. This one was no. But others wouldn’t be.

Because they were back together. They’d weathered a huge, big ass storm that had actually come out of all their deepest, best convictions, she realized in a flash, with a few, serious health issues sideswiping them, too.

Wow.

No wonder it had been tough. So damn hard, it had sent them both reeling into all the darkest places of the human soul. Dank, awful, scary places.

But they’d stuck together. Been there for each other, in whatever way they could, when called upon. Still. With open hearts.

And now, they were solid. Finally.

It seemed the right time to broach one last thing.

“Cole, about…”

“Tabby, one last…”

They stopped, grinned at each other. “I’ll go, if you don’t mind. Something I gotta say.”

She nodded, wordless.

“Seen Doc Beamstone. We’re monitoring my depression. Can’t say it’ll never come up again, Doc thinks it might be an impermanent kind. But it’s been dogging me since Afghanistan.”

She scrutinized him. “What happened over there? You’ve referred to it, lots of times. But you’ve never given me the details.”

“I…I can’t.” His grip tightened on her, the muscles through his entire body responding to the thought. “It’s not something I’m proud of, but I will tell you one day. Seeing a shrink too, on that. I’ll work it in around ranch duties, but I’ll do treatment as well, if the doc says it’s warranted. Even though I want to do that as much as I want to bare my ass and wiggle it in Quinn’s face. Okay, maybe that’s not a good example, as I actually want to do that. Point is, I’m in. All in, with us. Wherever this takes me, to keep us a tight team. I heard you.”

“About…”

“About presence, and all that shit. How you just need me here, even if I’m mentally off somewhere. If I can’t cope, if it flares up again, I’ll let you know. I’ll trust you to leave me be when I need time, you’ve always done it before. And trust you to be good without me treating you like a china doll, every minute. You’re a strong woman, and you’ve proven that.”

He focused in on her. “But we’re a team, from now on. We aren’t negotiable anymore, no matter how dark I feel. My presence will be steady, and solid. No divorce for you.” He smiled at her. “Something like no soup for you, remember? But hell of a lot more important, and I got it through my thick skull, for good. We’re on, and it’s forever. Got that?”

Something made her say it. “Hmm. For a divorce, there’s got to be a…”

He squeezed her arm. “Never did think you were stupid, Beautiful.” She watched as he unfurled his other hand.

A single stalk of purple salvia lay nestled in it.

Joy flew through her. A sense of rightness, and knowledge. This hunk of man—sometimes he wasn’t so all-fired hot, and that was real life—was her soul mate. No matter what they’d gone through, he was still better than any other man she’d met.

He was her hero, whatever stage he was in. Even if she had to slap him upside the head a time or two. Or simply leave him be, to work stuff out on his own while she did her thing.

He was a real man. With qualities and convictions she still adored. And most important?

He was her real man.

The sounds of the work around them, the building, the last-minute hammering, the good-natured yelling of the men working together, all fled into the distance.

It was just the two of them, again, as she rested her head on his shoulder and his arm tightened around her.

Her, and her Cowboy. Against, or with the world. Again.