The Cowboy's Texas Sky (The Dixons of Legacy Ranch 2)

He stood upright, uncertain. Travis took Sky’s hand in his, and together, they walked to him.

“You fought for me,” Brandon said flatly, as if he didn’t quite believe it.

“Because you’re worth it,” Skylar replied, emotion thick in her throat, and took his arm, gently squeezing it, holding back her impulse to drag him into a hug by a thread.

“There’s no way we wouldn’t have,” Travis said as he pulled something out of his back pocket, folded on itself, the drawstrings wadded and unfurling.

Travis’s heart, for the first time in so long, felt not just full but complete.

“My bag. I thought I’d lost it,” Brandon said, looking up, eyes red rimmed, as Travis gave it to him, then held out his tattoo while Yoda and Courage trotted a tornado around them. “Then you know now,” Brandon croaked, chewing on his lip and not looking at either one of them anymore.

“We know,” Skylar affirmed.

“I didn’t wanna say anything and you guys think I was crazy or making stuff up—”

Skylar pulled Brandon into that embrace, her resolve snapping, enveloping him in a hug. Hard. This time, he didn’t push her away. This time, the boy stood still, then hesitantly wrapped his arms around her, before exhaling and burying his face in her shoulder, clenching her.

“Do I get to stay here?” Brandon murmured, his voice sounding thickened. He looked up, tearful eyes flitting back and forth between him and Skylar. “Don’t let Anita make me move again.”

Travis’s arms encompassed them both so swiftly, gluing them together in his hold. A vice. Feeling Brandon’s relief pour off him.

“You’re where you belong.” Travis’s voice was gravelly with emotion. “And soon, it’s gonna be official. We’re gonna be your parents. But I don’t ever want you to forget your mother and father. Your momma loved you, I have no doubt.” His voice fell to a whisper, thick, filled with purpose. “And your father was an amazing man. I can’t wait to tell you all about him.”

And as the sun sank in the sky while Anita drove away, casting its glow upon the sotol and creosote bush, as they remained like that for a minute or twenty—it was hard to tell how much time had passed when it felt like time stood still—Travis’s long, muscled arms squeezed the two of them like glue. As patchwork as it was, it fit. Like it was meant to be, and Travis buckled in for a future where Skylar and he would cross any bridge when they got to it, but one which, if Sky had anything to do with it, would have a helluva lot of puppy paws scampering over it with them along the way. And some baby feet, too. Out here, where he’d run from his past, he’d found his future, beneath the wide Texas sky.

The End