CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: LUCKY

EL RENO, OKLAHOMA

KATE CARTER AND WILLOW THORNTON DO NOT SAVE THE WORLD.

The death toll weighs heavy on their shoulders, a grim reminder that not everything can be undone, even in their experiment's success. But as the EMTs work quietly around them, stitching and splinting, one murmurs something neither woman expected to hear; they expected absolute devastation, something much worse, never this.

Willow glances over at Kate, knowing that even if they could not save the world, they did something, they changed something.

She is more of sound mind by the time she is holding Kate's hand, watching as they stitch up her forehead, her other arm in a sling. Willow's injuries seem minor by her standards: a fractured rib, a sprained arm, a likely concussion that leaves her head throbbing faintly. Nothing she hasn't handled before; nothing she hasn't had worse of. The truck, somehow, had taken the brunt of the tornado's wrath, its frame absorbing enough of the damage to leave them bruised but alive.

"They're not sending us to the hospital?" Kate asks, just as they cut the last bit of thread.

"Not unless something changes," the EMT, Isaac, as he introduced himself, replies. "Beds are full with more severe cases. You two got lucky."

Willow manages a faint smile at the word lucky, though the sharp ache in her side makes her wince. Tyler's voice snaps her back to the moment.

"Are you sure?" he's asking, his tone clipped with worry as he hovers beside her. "I don't think—"

"Would you mind taking a look at him?" Willow interrupts, directing her words to Isaac instead. Her gaze fixes on Tyler, sharp and unwavering. "He injured his leg. I don't think it's broken, but I'm worried."

Tyler's jaw tightens as he looks at her incredulously. "Willow, you just drove into a tornado—"

"And they just said we're fine," she fires back, her tone firm despite the exhaustion weighing her down. She gestures toward his leg. "I'm a little more worried about you right now."

For a moment, Tyler stares at her, slumped on the makeshift cot in the school gym. Her head rests against the frame, her slung arm pressing against her fractured ribs, every word seeming to strain her further. But her eyes are steady, pleading as if willing him to accept the same care he's been so adamant about giving her.

Tyler exhales sharply, his resistance cracking. "Fine," he mutters, letting Isaac guide him to sit so they can examine his leg.

"Stubborn," Willow muses, a faint smirk curling her lips. Her voice is worn at the edges, lined with the exhaustion tugging at her body.

Tyler glances over his shoulder as the EMT rolls up his pant leg. "Look who's talking," he shoots back with a half-smile.

Isaac tuts softly at the sight of Tyler's injury: a nasty bruise blossoming across his shin and a jagged cut that will need a few stitches. It's ugly but nothing broken or severe enough to require a cast. "Looks like you're sharing in their luck," he mutters, his tone dry but not unkind.

Once he's finished stitching and bandaging Tyler's leg, Isaac leans back, brushing off his hands. "Alright," he says, clapping his hands together. "You three take it easy for at least three weeks—no heavy lifting, no sudden heroics." He shakes his head in mock disbelief as he packs up his supplies, muttering under his breath, "Driving into a tornado—can you believe it? Absolute psychopaths, the lot of you."

With a final nod, Isaac steps away, his kit slung over his shoulder. "Crazy, but lucky," he says one last time before disappearing into the crowd of volunteers and medics bustling around the makeshift shelter.

The gym, one of the few structures left untouched by the storm, has become a hub of activity. Volunteers weave through the crowd, handing out supplies, while EMTs triage the injured. Families huddle in small clusters, faces streaked with exhaustion and gratitude, whispering quiet prayers of thanks.

The scene spills into the parking lot, where the Wranglers lend their hands to the effort. Despite their own weariness, they help unload bottled water and blankets, steadying shaken survivors as they step out of vehicles. The weight of the storm lingers in every movement, a shared trauma binding everyone together.

Willow exhales shakily, her breath catching as she leans into Tyler's side. The sharp ache in her ribs flares up, and he's immediately there, steadying her with a firm but gentle grip. His arm slips around her shoulders, pulling her close.

"Easy," he murmurs, his voice low and warm.

She lets herself sink into him, the scent of rain, smoke, and mud clinging to him—a raw, grounding smell that's entirely him.

The man she loves.

She decided that in the storm, didn't she? It had to be love. It always was. And if she and Kate hadn't done what they did, she might never have had the chance to tell him.

Tyler doesn't say anything else, just holding her close, his hand resting lightly against her arm, the touch constant, to ensure she's still there. She tilts her head to rest against his shoulder, her eyes fixed on the steady stream of survivors milling through the shelter.

"What now?" she asks quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. She doesn't turn to face Kate, knowing any sudden movement will send pain rippling through her ribs.

Kate, always quick with a plan, doesn't miss a beat. "Draft a grant proposal," she says as if the answer should be obvious.

Willow huffs a tired laugh, the sound cut short by a wince. "No one's going to believe us without the data," she replies. "We might need to do another run. Doubt we can use the PARs again, but if we find Lily's drone—"

"You're not doing another run," Tyler interrupts. His jaw is tight, and when Willow looks up at him, she sees a flicker of anger in his eyes, the kind she's been waiting for since she's driven into that storm, the kind born from worry. "Not anytime soon. Our buddy said three weeks. You're sticking to that."

"Alright," she replies, her voice soft. She won't argue with him—not now, at least.

Javi's voice cuts through the moment as he strides over, phone in hand. Willow glances at the battered device, still somehow functional despite the rain and the chaos. It's practically a miracle considering the cracks running through the screen.

"Got us rooms at a motel in the city," Javi announces. "We'll crash there tonight."

"We?" Willow raises an eyebrow, surprised. "What about StormPAR? You done with them?"

Javi hesitates, but only briefly. "Yeah," he says firmly, his voice resolute. "I think I am. Don't want to be a sellout anymore. I want to make a real difference, like you and Kate."

Willow's lips curve into a soft smile, the anger and sadness she'd held toward him beginning to melt away. He meets her gaze, guilt flickering in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Will. I never should've..."

"You were an asshole, Javi," Willow says bluntly, though there's warmth in her tone now. "But I'm glad you're okay—and here."

"Does that mean you forgive me?"

"Oh, no," she replies, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "You're gonna be groveling for the rest of your life. But you've got a good head start, saving my cowboy for me."

Javi chuckles softly, pausing before adding, "Mrs. Carter wants us at hers tomorrow. Jo says she'll help make the space."

Kate perks up at the mention of her mom, but it's Willow who asks, "Jo knows?"

"Yeah," Javi replies with a grimace. "Had to call her. Figured she'd have a good recommendation for who could fix up Tyler's truck." His lips twitch into a half-smile. "She might kill you when she sees you, though."

Willow snorts, a quiet laugh escaping her. "You're the one who said I should drive headfirst into a tornado."

"I said you would, not that you should," Javi retorts, shaking his head. "This wasn't exactly what I pictured, anyway."

It wasn't exactly what she pictured either, but as she cuddles closer to Tyler, his arm warm and steady around her, her hand still held tightly in Kate's, and Javi—her Javi—standing in front of her again, something in her heart settles.

It was worth it all.

◆ ◆ ◆

OKLAHOMA CITY, OKLAHOMA

WILLOW SLOWLY BLINKS HER EYES OPEN, HALF EXPECTING THE SCHOOL GYM STILL. The last thing she remembers is Javi, fussing over Kate the same way Tyler fussed over her as they got in Lily's van, Kate accepting it with shy smiles and glances over at Willow, the trio back together again. But her scenery shifted, the soft hum of the motel air conditioning replacing the chatter of survivors, but the stench of the storm still the same.

Time must have slipped away from her, somewhere between the school gym and ending up at the destination Javi set out for them. They somehow stretched into the night before she even knew it, sunlight switching to streetlights barely peeking through the front window curtains. Her body still aches, the exhaustion a bit easier but there's still that pulsing throb in her ribs where bruises are sure starting to form.

"Tyler?" she whispers into the quiet, her voice rough from sleep. She knows he must still be with her, from the way he wouldn't leave her side.

"Over here, baby," he responds, his voice rough and distant. She blinks, turning her head to find him slouched in the small armchair across the room, his boots kicked off and his flannel shirt unbuttoned, exposing the faded undershirt underneath. His shoulders are tense, body turned toward her as if he had already been keeping a careful watch on her.

She blinks again, trying to focus. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Couple of hours," he tells her, voice calm, but a tightness that wasn't there before slipping in. "You fell asleep in the van. I carried you in."

"You shouldn't have carried me with your leg," she chides him softly, but he just shrugs it off, as if it was nothing. Willow sighs and rests her head back against the pillows. "Come to bed, cowboy. You should get some rest too." They probably both stink, still covered in grime, but there are two beds in the motel; they can ruin one until they shower later.

"I'm fine," he replies sharply, shaking his head. "You go back to sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up."

For all the times he calls her stubborn, she can't help but notice how much he shares that trait. Willow pushes herself up with her hands, wincing as she sits back against the headboard. Tyler stands quickly, cursing softly as he hurries to her side. She bats him away before he can get too close.

"It's fine," she reassures him, her voice gentle but firm. "It's just a fracture. Could've been a hell of a lot worse."

"Yeah, it could've," he mutters, but his eyes darken, the weight of what could have happened still heavy between them.

"Tyler..." She trails off, sensing the storm that's about to break. "Alright, get it out," she tells him, not giving him the chance to hold it in anymore. Tyler hesitates, his jaw tight, as if pretending he doesn't know what she's talking about.

She sighs. "I know you're upset with me."

"Upset doesn't even begin to cover it," Tyler finally responds, the truth of his frustration seeping out into the world. "What the hell were you thinking, Willow?"

Willow had expected this, prepared for it while bracing herself in the eye of the storm. She knew he'd be angry; she'd told herself he would just have to understand. "We did the right thing, Tyler. You know we did."

"The right thing?" His laugh is bitter, a sharp, disbelieving sound. "You mean driving into a tornado the size of a city? Yeah, great plan. Real genius move, weather girl."

"We did it to save you. To save everyone," she says firmly, though her voice is soft, steady against his rising anger. "I thought you would understand—"

"You thought I would understand?" Tyler nearly shouts, his voice cracking. "Do you have any idea how it felt, watching that truck get swallowed? Knowing there was nothing I could do but hope something—anything—would bring you right back to me?" His fists clench at his sides as he adds, "Boone and Javi had to hold me back from running after you."

Willow presses her lips together, her chest tightening as tears well in her eyes. She had known he'd be angry—she'd told herself she was ready for that, ready to reason with him, to find common ground. But nothing could have prepared her for this: the raw pain in his voice, the desperate crack in his voice. She had been so focused on saving him, on ensuring he survived, that she hadn't truly thought how much hurt she could've caused. It was never true anger, but fear. Worry. The agonizing thought she might not have come back.

(He had been with her the last time they stood in a storm, clinging to her, shielding her from the worst. She nearly lost him then, the scream tearing from her throat when it came down to a close call. She remembers feeling Kate pull her back, holding her steady when all she wanted was to run into the chaos to save him.

And now she'd made him feel that same helplessness. She'd put him through the very thing that could have broken her. How could she?)

"Tyler..." Her voice trembles as she says his name, her lip quivering as she swings her legs over the bed and stands on unsteady feet.

"Baby, don't stand," he says quickly, stepping forward, hands outstretched to guide her back down. But she shakes her head, stubborn as ever, and captures his hands in her own before he can pull her back.

"I'm okay," she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She squeezes his hands, her eyes locking on his to reassure him of more things than just one. "I'm right here. I came back to you."

His lips part, but no words come out at first. She sees the war in his features—the relief in seeing her alive, the anguish in imagining what could have been. "What if you hadn't?" he finally asks, trembling.

He steps closer, into her space, careful to keep enough distance that he does not disturb her injuries. "If I came out there and you were—" He falters, his words falling off, too much for him to bear speaking. His hands clench in hers, attempting to anchor himself with her touch. "I can't lose you, Willow," he says in a hoarse whisper, his eyes glassy at the thought. "Not like that."

She feels the tears threaten, her throat tight with the weight of his words. "I thought I was doing what I had to. I thought if it meant saving you, it'd be worth it," she whispers, her voice breaking.

It's what kept her sane in those final moments, the thought that if she could just get him through this if she could make sure he was alright, it would make it all worthwhile. She could leave the world knowing he would live, that she had saved him, just as he had saved her.

"Worth it?" he repeats quietly, shaking his head, disbelief lacing his voice. "Living in a world without you in it..." He swallows, hard. "It ain't worth it."

She exhales shakily, tears spilling over now, streaking her cheeks. "I couldn't just stand by, Tyler. I couldn't," she chokes out, her voice breaking. "If I hadn't done what I did, you would've—"

Tyler's hands are on her face before she can finish, his palms warm and steady against the cuts across her skin. He looks at them, his lips pulled tight, a reminder of what she did to them, for them. Gently, he pushes a strand of her hair behind her ear, his gaze searching hers with an intensity that makes her knees weak. His voice is low, but each word carries the weight of his heart.

"I ain't afraid of dying, baby," he says, his thumb brushing the tear trailing down her cheek. "But I am terrified of the thought of losing you before I ever had the chance to..."

"To what?" she whispers.

"To love you the way you deserve."

Her breath catches, unsure if she's hearing him right. "You love me?"

Tyler's lips curl into a soft smile, his gaze steady as his thumb brushes against her cheek. "You don't remember me saying it before?" he teases, his tone playful but tender.

Willow shakes her head, her brow furrowing as she tries to recall. She wishes she could, aches to hold on to the moment she might have missed. The words her heart had longed to hear were finally out in the open, and her breath stumbles over their weight.

"Well," Tyler begins, his voice dipping as a flicker of sadness crosses his face. "You were pretty out of it when I pulled you from the truck." He sighs softly but still offers her a small smile, as though to ease her guilt.

"Say it again," she begs. "Please. I'll remember this time."

He chuckles, the sound warm and soft, and he looks at her with something she can only describe as adoration. "You're absolutely crazy," he begins, shaking his head slightly. "Beautiful. The smartest woman I've ever met. And you've got me entirely whipped. Have since the moment I saw you standing in front of that damn booth, and every damn second since."

His grin widens as he finally says, "I love you, weather girl."

(She thinks she might pass out.)

"Tyler..." she starts, her heart pounding in her chest, unable to help the way her lips begin to curve into a smile through all the tears."I saw those pictures of us when I was driving in, the ones in your truck." She hates to remind him of what she did, but he has to know. "All I could think about was how I love you," she says, the sentiment clear in her heart, as it always should have been. "I think I've loved you since that day too."

She pauses, a shy, tearful smile finally breaking across her face. "Do you believe in cosmic connections?"

"Not before you," he admits. "Not until fate kept bringing me right back to you."

(And it had to be fate, drawing them right back together, at every turn, at every moment.

But the rest had been them, an exchange of love, so loud and desperate that it disrupts nature and survives the worst of weather.)

"You and me—we're cosmic," she tells him, so sure of it. Written in the stars, drawn together by a red string of fate they spun stronger, so it could never snap. She takes a deep, steadying breath, her eyes shining. "I've been waiting a long time for you, cowboy. And lord, do I love you."

Tyler's cheeks flush at her words, reaching the tips of his ears. His smile softens as he leans in, slow and careful, her heart fluttering with each second that passes. When their lips meet, it's tender, humming with a passion no less than any kiss they've shared before, only this time etched in the love that runs between them.

When they part, his forehead rests gently against hers, his hand still cupping her cheek. "I ain't ever letting you drive into a storm without me again, baby," he tells her. "Pull a stunt like that and I'll take you over my knee."

Willow bites her lip to hide her grin. "Well, that just makes me want to do it more."

"Oh, you're damn lucky you're hurt right now, pretty girl," he growls playfully, leaning in to kiss that grin off her face.

◆ ◆ ◆

SAPULPA, OKLAHOMA

JO TEARS HER AND KATE A NEW ONE IN FRONT OF ALL THE WRANGLERS. Willow buries her face in her hand, beat red, as Jo informs her they are both, in fact, the biggest dumbasses she has ever seen and they are damn lucky they are alive. Cathy stands to the side, silent for once, letting Jo's wrath take up the space. Even Boone hangs his head in shame for even applauding their success.

"What the hell were you two thinking?" Jo finally demands, hands on her hips, her tone shifting from raw anger to the kind of disbelief only someone who's seen it all could muster.

Willow looks up, biting back any semblance of remorse. Her response is more defiant than the one she gave Tyler before, her frustration bubbling over. "That if we were going to die, we might as well die trying," she retorts, throwing her free hand up. "Lord have mercy, Jo, you act like you and Bill didn't tie yourselves to a damn pipe to survive an EF5."

Cathy snorts, unable to help herself. "She's got a point," she says with a shrug. "Dumbassery has to run in the family somewhere."

"Cathy," Jo growls, shooting her a warning glare.

"So, it worked?" Cathy asks, shifting the subject.

Willow and Kate exchange glances, then nod. "It worked," Willow says softly, pride and relief mingling in her voice.

"It finally worked," Kate echoes, her tone just as reverent.

Jo mutters something under her breath, shaking her head as she steps down from the porch toward the girls. "Idiots," she grumbles, but there's a flicker of something softer in her eyes. She reaches out, pulling them into a gentle hug, careful not to squeeze where it hurts. "Both of you—genius, reckless little idiots."

"Did you get the data on it?" Jo asks, her voice immediately shifting to business when she pulls back. Willow winces. "Of course, you didn't." Jo groans, pinching the bridge of her nose like she's holding back a more colorful response. "Then we need to get back out there," she declares, already planning their next steps.

"Um, can't," Willow interjects quickly, shooting a glance toward Tyler, who gives her a subtle nod of agreement. "Not for at least three weeks. Doctor's orders."

Jo exhales heavily, her lips pressing into a thin line. She's clearly displeased but knows better than to argue with medical advice. "Fine," she mutters, relenting for now. She turns her attention toward Javi, her sharp gaze softening just a fraction. "Glad to see you're still in one piece and, apparently, not replaced by the beefcake."

"Good to see you too, Jo," Javi replies with a smirk, his tone easy despite the tension lingering in the air.

"Tyler," Cathy greets him with an overly familiar grin, as though he's an old family friend. "Happy to see you stuck around."

"Of course, ma'am," Tyler replies politely, shaking her hand. "I appreciate you inviting us up." He shifts his focus to Jo, his tone sincere. "And thanks for finding someone to fix my truck."

Jo crosses her arms, her expression softening into something almost amused. "Felt like it was my responsibility, seeing as it was my kid who drove it into a twister in the first place." Her gaze sweeps over the Wranglers, and she gives a nod of approval. "Good-looking crew you've got here, cowboy."

"Thanks," Tyler says, gesturing toward his team. "We've got Boone, Dani, Dexter, and Lily. And Ben—he's our newest addition, a reporter from London."

"It's an honor to meet you, Dr. Harding," Dexter chimes in, stepping forward and extending his hand. "I'm a huge fan of your work—and now your niece's."

Jo's lips quirk into a small, proud smile as she shakes his hand. "Oh, yeah? She's pretty great, isn't she?" She glances back at Willow and the girl's heart swells, a smile stretching across her face.

(The pride is not just because of the chasing, she knows that, but for everything, everywhere all at once.)

Cathy gets her round of introductions too, happy to be hyped up by Tyler for her cooking and farming skills. She grins at each of the Wranglers before clapping her hands together. "Well, I started on lunch before y'all got here. Y'all hungry?"

It becomes easy from there, the Wranglers fitting right in, absorbing Kate and Willow's family and their recently returned Javi into the fold. Cathy gets Javi and Tyler to set up the table for lunch this time, easier to boss them around than her newly greeted guests. They eat outside again, sitting around the table, laughing, telling stories that make the weight of the previous day's storm feel like nothing.

Willow can't help but smile as she glances around the table. Boone is mid-story, rallying the crew with an epic retelling of how Javi somehow survived a fire twister, his arms waving dramatically as he paints the scene. The tale takes an unexpected turn when Dani pulls out her phone, gleefully showing the infamous TikTok of Willow's viral punch, earning cheers and laughter from the group. The sound of their voices, the shared warmth—it all feels familiar. It reminds her of home, of those long dinners at the Harding ranch, where brisket was secretly fed to Mose under the table, and the crew that raised her filled the air with their banter. It feels like family.

"This what those Sundays were like?" Tyler leans in to ask beside her, his voice low, his question pulling her back to the memory she once shared with him during their first dance.

"Yeah," Willow replies, her eyes soft as they sweep over the group. "Exactly like this."

Later, as lunch transitions into a bonfire—carefully supervised by Cathy but enthusiastically stoked by Boone—Willow finds Kate sitting alone in the barn. She's at their old desk, staring at that same weathered photograph of their crew. The soft glow of the string lights overhead gives the space an inviting warmth, but there's a pensive look on Kate's face. Willow slides onto the bench beside her, bumping her shoulder lightly and offering a small smile.

"Hey, idiot," Willow greets, her tone playful.

"Hey, dumbass," Kate responds automatically, her lips twitching into a faint grin. She exhales, her eyes still on the photo. "I can't believe it worked."

"On an EF5," Willow agrees, shaking her head in amazement. "We always talked about making it climb the scale, but on the first try..." She pauses, the weight of the moment settling between them. "Do you think we made it right?"

Kate leans back in her chair, her gaze thoughtful. "I think it's a start," she says finally, her voice soft but resolute. "I don't know if we'll ever feel completely okay with it, but—" she shrugs, "—baby steps, right?"

"Yeah," Willow nods, echoing the sentiment. "Baby steps."

A comfortable silence falls between them before Willow breaks it with a nudge to Kate's shoulder. "So," she starts, tilting her head curiously, "back to New York on Sunday, still?"

Kate lets out a long breath, leaning her head back to stare at the barn ceiling. "Actually," she says after a moment, "I think I'm going to take a leave of absence. See where this thing goes, you know?"

Willow raises an eyebrow, not entirely surprised but still caught off guard by Kate's quick decision. She had expected to wrestle with her own thoughts first, not have Kate make the leap so readily. "You want to get back into it? Full-time?"

"Unless you're real desperate to get back to weather reporting..." Kate teases, a smirk tugging at her lips.

"Don't even joke about that," Willow says, rolling her eyes but grinning nonetheless. Her tone turns serious, her determination clear. "I'm all in, Kate. We get the new data, write the grant, secure the funding." She gestures around them, a hint of humor in her voice. "Maybe even get a lab that isn't in your mom's barn?"

Kate chuckles, the sound lighter than before. "You think they'd want in?" She nods toward the open barn door where Dani is coaxing Javi into shotgunning a beer, a skill he hasn't attempted in years.

"Javi, for sure," Willow replies confidently. "Maybe he can even give us some pointers on starting a storm-chasing company—with ethical investments this time."

Kate's eyes light up at the idea. "We could team up with the Tornado Wranglers, too. They've already documented parts of the experiment process. It'd fit perfectly with what we're doing."

Willow smirks, her voice laced with dry humor. "Can we ask Tyler in three weeks? He might throttle me if I even think about chasing again right now."

Kate laughs but then gives her a knowing look. "He wouldn't throttle you. He loves you." She pauses, her expression softening. "I know I said you could before, but don't go out there replacing me with him. I'm all in again; no need to do that."

Willow rolls her eyes, but her smile is fond. "Oh, Kate, there ain't no one in this world I'd drive into a death-for-sure tornado with but you."

"I don't think we'll go around doing that again," Kate replies with a smirk, "but I appreciate the sentiment all the same." Her voice softens. "Love you, Will."

"Love you too, Kate."

They share a brief, understanding silence before Willow stands and stretches. She glances toward the door, where the laughter and chatter from the crew still echo through the barn.

"Well, guess it's time to go face the music," Willow says with a sigh, a playful glint in her eyes. "You coming?"

Kate groans, pushing herself off the bench. She carefully puts the photo back where it belongs, tucking it into its spot on their board. "Yeah, I'm coming."

They step toward the door, walking side by side into the cool evening air, leaving behind the comfort of the barn but taking with them everything that's changed. Tyler is already waiting for Willow, his back to them. He turns as soon as he hears them approach.

"Hey, baby," he greets, opening his arm for her. Willow steps right into his side, resting her slinged elbow against him. "Sapulpa," he nods toward Kate.

"Owens," Kate smiles back. She pats Willow's shoulder before turning toward the fire. "I'm gonna go save Javi before he gets drunk enough to lose his pants again."

"Hey, that was one time!" Javi calls after her, overhearing her.

She watches as Kate heads toward Javi and Dani, the latter already coaxing him into another round of drinking games. Willow shakes her head but can't help grinning as she turns back to Tyler.

"How you feeling?" he asks her.

"You tell me," she says with a grin, leaning into him. "Got the storm-chasing cowboy of my dreams on my arm, and now surrounded by the people I love most in the world—including him."

"Well, I'll tell you that cowboy sure sounds like a lucky guy," he teases, his tone playful but sincere.

Willow chuckles, then takes his hand, her heart settling with a peaceful certainty. "Nah, I think it might be the weather girl that's the lucky one."

And when he bends down to kiss her, a soft press of his lips against hers, she sighs happily, truly knowing that she is, indeed, the lucky one.

—AUTHOR'S NOTE

TIS NOT THE END! DO NOT WORRY, WE HAVE ONE MORE CHAPTER AND AN EPILOGUE. i still gotta wrap up the whole news station arc and then what will truly happen between the wranglers and kate and willow's new ideas.

true love confession where tyler and willow break my heart. this chapter truly feels like the end to me sometimes and I nearly cried writing it. jo angry but loves her babies, cathy angry too, but she lets jo be angry for her. 

i honestly just have no other words I am so sad to see this story go but cannot believe I am finishing a fic for the first time in nine years.

i love you all. thank you for being here.

love,

kari