She held her hand to her eyes as the sun shone directly into them. Maybe it was the panic of realizing she was unemployed, very nearly homeless, and heartbroken that pissed her off so much. Whatever loaded old man had bought her mother’s—and technically her—legacy was an entire day early. As if he couldn’t wait to stake his claim. Dick.

The papers were signed and it was a done deal. But this was still a day before the contracted date and she didn’t have to be nice about it.

Emotion clogged her throat as she surveyed the land one last time. Her dream of turning it into a facility for women like Grace and Van’s sister, women who needed a safe place until they figured things out, dissolved before her eyes. A part of her would always love this place, the sprawling hills, the privacy. She’d taken for granted that it would always be waiting for her, mistook it for a burden instead of the blessing it was, and she’d missed out on enjoying it for almost five years now.

No sense crying in front of a stranger over something she couldn’t change. Her stupid hopeless mind began to try and conjure possible ways she could raise enough money to buy the ranch back from the man stepping out of the vehicle. He must’ve been important because the driver had exited quickly and practically jogged around to open his door.

Dark denim covered the legs of a man much younger than what she’d pictured stepping out of the back seat. Familiar ink adorned the parts of his arms that were visible under a black short-sleeved shirt. She wondered if maybe she’d had a stroke and passed out. Seeing him carrying a bouquet of lavender and hyacinth was like witnessing a mirage in the middle of the desert. Stella barely trusted her legs to carry her, but somehow they made their way toward him.

“Van? What are you doing here?” Her voice trembled almost as much as her legs did.

“I own here.” His jaw tensed as she approached. Like he was prepping for battle. “Happy birthday, cowgirl.”

Her heart stuttered and then tripped over itself while trying to find its rhythm. Mouth dry, she licked her lips. “You what? I don’t understand.”

His mouth twitched. “I bought it. For you. It’s yours. Since I never got you a birthday present. Consider me the very first investor in Grace’s Haven.” Her eyes filled with tears and he misunderstood. “Baby, don’t cry. If you don’t want it, that’s okay too. But your note said—”

He didn’t get to finish. Stella had taken off running and thrown herself into his arms. She crushed her lips to his, pouring her love and gratitude into their kiss until she was dizzy from the need to breathe.

“I accept. On one condition.”

Van leaned back slightly. “Oh yeah? And what’s that, cowgirl?”

She sucked in a deep breath. “I know you have to travel for your rock star gig and all. I get that. But when you’re not on the road, I need you here. With me.”

His answering smile was breathtaking. “I think we can work something out. But I have a condition of my own.”

Stella arched a brow, knowing good and well she would have agreed to pretty much anything he wanted in that moment.

“I know you’re my cowgirl and you want to spend all your time with those four- legged monstrosities, but when I have to go on the road, I need you with me. I love you, Stella Jo. The band wasn’t going to change their lifestyle for me. And I’m never going to be a saint. I have to do this on my own. But I need you, baby. Only you.”

“Van—”

“I won’t make promises I can’t keep, Stella Jo. I might relapse. I might have to go back into rehab.”

She nodded. “And I might get crazy jealous of a groupie and set all of your shit on fire.”

His laughter warmed her from the inside out. Filled the space that had long been empty. “I might love you for the rest of my life.”

“I might let you.”

“As long as we both shall live.” Van’s words were kissed into her mouth, and she took them. Readily.

“You were wrong, Mr. Ransom. We are going to live happily ever after,” she whispered.

Van grinned as he set her down and pulled her by the hand toward the barn. “Now show me where we keep the riding crops, cowgirl.”

“Wait.” She stopped short. “I have to ask you something.”

He nodded. “Anything, baby.”

“Do you think everyone deserves a second chance?” Her skin tingled as she waited for his answer.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

She stepped forward into his arms. “Van?” When his eyes met hers, she placed her hands on either side of his face. “I won’t need another one. You’re mine. And I’m yours. Forever. Come what may.”

Van grinned and kissed her gently. “I like that. Come what may. Maybe I’ll name my next album that.”

“Good. I’m glad.” She paused to pull in as much air as her lungs could handle. “We’re naming our daughter May. It’s when she’s due. Unless you want to name her Valerie.”

She almost fell down with him as he staggered. “Our what?”

“Surprise,” she whispered.

Van closed his eyes and shook his head. The sun shone onto him as he dropped down to worship her on his knees.

“I am not worthy,” he told her, looking up into worried eyes. “But I will spend my life trying to be.”

She lifted his hand to the tiny bump protruding between her hips. “We are yours. You belong to us. You will be worthy. Or I will let Shadowdancer trample your ass.”

Van stood slowly and glanced over to the stalls. “No. Please tell me you didn’t really bring that beast here?” He gaped at her. “It’s like you’re trying to kill me. A baby and now this. Damn, Stella Jo.” He huffed out what she assumed was a breath of defeat. “What is it with that horse?”

She rolled her eyes as she pulled him towards the stables, eager to begin their life together.

“I have a thing for dark horses with tortured souls. What can I say?”

Epilogue

As it so happened, the road wasn’t necessarily the best place for a relationship to thrive. Or a family. Which was why he only toured six months out of the year. A cramped, albeit luxury tour bus didn’t exactly give a baby room to grow. And it certainly didn’t give him the room to tie Stella up everywhere he’d like and have his way with her as thoroughly as he preferred. But they made do. He’d become quite creative as a result. He grinned to himself as he remembered untying her wrists from the showerhead the night before.

Not everything ran as smoothly as their sex life though. Shows ran late. Faulty equipment caused problems. May had gotten a hellacious ear infection that meant no sleep for anyone for two weeks. Shit was hectic. But Stella kept him balanced. Calmed him when things spiraled out of control. Talked him down from the ledges when he wanted to walk away, get wasted, and say to hell with it all.

She amazed him by shouldering the demandingly rigorous schedule, the hours of sitting backstage while he performed, the overaggressive female fans that snuck past security who she’d come face to face with more than once. She’d dealt with those situations with her firm but elegant grace and unfailing strength. He hadn’t fully realized just what she was capable of handling—both in the bedroom and out of it. The more she was tested, the more she thrived.

The show that Vanessa had shown up to had been particularly enlightening.

After bitching her way past security, Vanessa had accosted them backstage after a concert in LA. Stella had been hugely pregnant yet not intimidated in the least.

“Van,” Vanessa had whined. “I just want to talk. You can’t just cut me out like this. What about—”

It was then that Stella had moved between them and put her hand up. “If you even think of using his dead sister to make him feel guilty for kicking your crazy ass to the curb, so help me, I’ll make what you did to that girl in Omaha look like a hug.”