Page 98 of Montana Mystery

For a second his face froze in shock, and then he was pulling closer, rolling us so I was sprawled over his chest, smiling so wide that it had to hurt.

“I love you,” he said, lips brushing mine. “I don’t want you to leave. Ever. I want this to be our home. I want to wake up tangled with you every day, covered in kittens. I want to take you riding and make love to you under the open sky. I want everything with you, Kate.”

Tears blurred my vision. This was everything.

Everything.

The way the world had brought us together would always be painful. The memories of today, and that fear of losing each other, wouldn’t go away either. Now that I understood the possibility of being without him, I never wanted to feel it again.

Every moment spent with Noah was precious. “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

Running his hands up my spine, they ended up tangled in my damp hair. The smiles on our faces were mirrors of one another. “Welcome home.”

We forgot about sleep entirely.

Epilogue

Kate

Christmas Morning

Salem dove beneath a piece of wrapping paper, all but disappearing into the sound of crinkles, and I laughed. Garfield was somewhere halfway up the Christmas tree. If I squinted, I could see green eyes peeking out from in-between the branches.

We’d tried to keep him from climbing up there, but it was no use. Luckily, Noah had now rigged the tree to the wall so we wouldn’t wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of crashing again, hearts pounding out of our chests because we thought someone was breaking in.

Velcro—the newest addition to the family, since there was no way we could get rid of the kittens—sat beside me with his head in my lap. The sweet Jack Russell had bounced back beautifully. He remembered Noah from his time spent on the ranch and once again had made himself inseparable.

I felt lucky that he’d also fallen in love with me.

Noah appeared from the kitchen in nothing but black sweatpants, carrying matching cups of coffee, since I was pinned by the puppy. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The paper that Salem was playing with crinkled again, and black paws stabbed out from beneath it before retreating. It was the piece of paper that had wrapped a box with a necklace. Tanzanite—the deep violet color Noah claimed matched my eyes. The kiss I’d given him had almost ended up with us back upstairs and not down here with the animals.

Later, we would go to the lodge to exchange gifts with the rest of the Resting Warrior family, but I was happy to have a quiet day before then. I was happy the last few weeks had been quiet in general.

Everyone who’d escaped from the raid had disappeared, just like the first time we’d lost them. Those that had been caught had been cooperative, and the network that ran everything from drugs to guns was mostly dismantled. Not entirely, but it was at a severe disadvantage now.

We’d never said it was completely over, because there had been no sign of Simon. He wasn’t a man who gave up. Until we knew what happened to him or where he’d gone, everyone at Resting Warrior would have it in the backs of their minds.

Especially me.

I’d told the man about my company. And now that one of my busy seasons was on the horizon, I was half expecting a call at any time saying that the cops had found him or his people in a client’s home. But people were looking for him now, starting to check empty homes, whether or not they were a part of my business.

Now that we’d opened our presents to each other, there was nothing to do but relax, and that was nice.

Noah sat down on the other side of Velcro and took my hand along the back of the couch. It was a perfect chance to drink in his body, the long, lean muscles that I still couldn’t get enough of, and I wasn’t sure I ever would.

“Did you sleep okay?” I asked him.

I knew part of the answer. Rescuing me had made his nightmares resurface. And changed them. Now it wasn’t Jude or the other captives screaming in the caves. It was me. I’d woken up to him outside with Al Pacacino more than once, face gray and haggard because of what his own mind was putting him through.

“Better than some nights.”

That was true. I had my own nightmares now. And the really bad nights were the ones where we both ended up awake. More than anything, I was glad that neither of us had to face it alone.

At the same time, those experiences had helped his PTSD in other ways. Dr. Rayne was working with him, and now, she was working with me too. Resting Warrior was the perfect place to recover. Just like it was known for. At the very least, Noah slept more than when we’d first met.