CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO : INTO THE SUNSET

THREE WEEKS LATER

TULSA, OKLAHOMA

IT IS DECIDED AT THAT 8 AM MEETING THE FOLLOWING MONDAY THAT WILLOW MAE THORNTON WILL BE LEAVING CHANNEL 9. The producers sit down at the table, ready to deliver some corporal punishment. it goes directly out the window when Willow arrives, the perfect weather girl image, sliding her resignation letter across the table. The ball returns to her court, with the producers ready to forgo it all if it means she remains their lead meteorologist ranking in high numbers.

Willow simply smiles and announces that she cannot stay. In fact, she's decided to pursue storm chasing—her decision having been pushed into motion by their continued interest. She rises from the desk, her curls and makeup flawless, a touch of defiance in every movement. She assures them she'll take the next few weeks to ensure a smooth transition of power from her to Joel.

Tyler meets her for lunch that day, and when she returns to the office, her lipstick smudged and a stronger pep in her step, it's clear her mind is made up.

Willow counts down the days until her last one, delivering her final weather reports without the overtime she would've once eagerly offered. After her final broadcast, with the signature sign-off that will no doubt have viewers in tears, she stands alone in her office, feeling a bittersweet twinge.

No matter how much she despised the job, it had been her life for a few years. It had brought her to that conference, where fate had dropped her squarely into the lap of her storm-chasing cowboy—her forever.

She packs up her few belongings: her commuter slides, the photo of her, Meg, and Mose on her desk, and the fake plant Bill had gifted her when she first started. As she pulls her degrees off the wall behind her desk and slides them into the box, she hears a soft knock at the door. She pauses, hand still on the frame of the box, before turning to find Joel standing in the doorway. His hands are shoved into his pockets, his lips pressed into a tight, almost rueful smile.

"Hey, Willow."

"Hey," she greets back, straightening up.

Joel steps inside, taking in the office that will be his by tomorrow morning. "So, this is it then?" He gestures around the room at the empty desk, the packed box, the scattered remnants of her time here. His gaze drifts over her face, his smile faltering slightly. "Willow Thornton, signing off." His voice carries a sadness that he tries to mask with a shake of his head. "Didn't think I'd see the day."

"It's been a long time coming," she tells him, her voice lighter than it ever has been with him. "This was never really the work for me."

"Yeah." Joel nods slowly, processing her words. "Storm-chasing, huh? Who would've thought?"

Willow takes a deep breath, a faint smile reaching her face. "It's actually what I did before I came here," she admits the truth leaving her easier now than it ever had before. "It runs in my family."

He lets out a surprised, almost disbelieving chuckle. "I really didn't know you at all, did I?" he muses, almost to himself. His eyes soften, studying her in a way they never did before. "I don't think I've ever seen your real smile until now."

She shakes her head at him. "I don't think you've ever seen the real me until now."

The silence stretches, and in that quiet, something shifts for Joel. Willow watches the way his shoulders tighten, the ball in his throat bobbing as he swallows hard, as if he's braving himself for what comes next. "I'm in love with you. Have been for the past three years."

Willow looks at him, her gaze steady but soft. She recognizes the sincerity in his words, but it does not move her, not like he thinks it will. "I know," she says quietly. Her smile falters. "Joel, you're in love with the version of me I hated the most."

There is a long pause. Joel's face drops slightly like he's finally coming to terms with what she's saying, maybe what he's always known, but never fully accepted. "I wish I could have the opportunity to get to know you now," he says regretfully, his eyes never leaving hers. "Because the person I've seen these past two weeks? I think I could love her just the same."

"Joel..." she begins, her voice softening.

"I'm too late, aren't I?" he asks, his smile sad, his question more rhetorical than anything.

"You're a good guy, Joel," she says after a moment. "And you're going to be great leading this team."

Before he can respond, another voice cuts through the tension, light and teasing. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything too serious here."

Both Joel and Willow turn toward the doorway, where Tyler is leaning casually against the frame, arms crossed, a crooked grin tugging at his lips.

Willow lights up the moment she sees him, her smile brightening in a way Joel has never witnessed before. "Tyler," she greets with surprise and delight. She gravitates toward him, her entire body language shifting. "How'd you even get in here?"

"Dani took the receptionist out for drinks last time we were in town," he explains with an exaggerated shrug. "Got me some pull." Tyler steps fully into the room, effortlessly sidestepping Joel as he approaches Willow. With no hesitation, he plucks her up by the waist, pulling her into an unexpected, dizzying kiss that makes her laugh softly against him.

Joel clears his throat awkwardly, forcing Tyler to pull back, though the grin on his face is anything but apologetic. "Oh, sorry," Tyler says, all innocence, his arm firmly around Willow's waist. "Didn't mean to interrupt. Just here to make sure my girl's not getting talked into staying where she doesn't belong."

Joel blinks, clearly blindsided. "I didn't know you two were... together."

"We actually met at that little conference thing a few weeks back," Tyler says, his smirk growing as he tightens his hold on Willow. "Gave her that exclusive on storm chasing." There's a playful edge to his tone, but his look is pointed, his smirk bordering on possessive as Joel's face falls. "It's Joey, right?"

"Joel," Joel corrects tersely.

"Right, right. Joel." Tyler apologizes, but his grin says he's far from it.

Joel exhales, clearly conceding the fight he never even had a chance in. "Well," he says finally, his tone softening, though his expression remains defeated. "Good luck out there, Willow. You deserve to be happy."

"Thank you, Joel," Willow replies sincerely, though she leans slightly into Tyler's hold. "Good luck to you, too."

Joel nods once, sparing one last glance at Willow before slipping out of the room.

The door clicks shut behind him, and Tyler turns to Willow, his smirk firmly back in place. "That was a little mean," she chastises softly, though there's no real scolding in her voice.

Tyler's eyes widen in mock innocence. "Mean? I don't know what you're talking about. I thought I was being the perfect gentleman, saving you from an incredibly awkward conversation."

Willow rolls her eyes, unable to help her smile. "He told me he loved me," she says with a slight shrug. "But don't worry, his love confession wasn't nearly as grand as yours."

"As if it could be," Tyler quips, leaning down to kiss her again, this time slower, savoring the moment. When he pulls back, his grin has softened. "I mean, let's be honest, he never stood a chance." Willow laughs, shaking her head. "Ready to head out, baby?"

She pauses for a moment, her gaze sweeping across the office one last time. The space feels smaller now, the memories less heavy, but still bittersweet. Her eyes linger on the desk, the chair, and the blank spot on the wall where her degrees once hung. It had been her hiding spot during a hard chapter of her life, never her home, but what she needed, just for a time.

Then her gaze shifts back to Tyler—her future—and her smile brightens, the bittersweetness fading into something warm and certain.

Willow puts her hand on his around her waist and nods. "I might need you to carry my box, though," she says with a teasing grin. "Still got that fractured rib and all."

Tyler chuckles, pulling her closer. "Anything for you, weather girl." He scoops up the box with one arm as if it weighs nothing, keeping his other arm securely around her waist.

As they step out of the office together, the door clicks shut behind them, and Willow doesn't look back.

◆ ◆ ◆

THE THORNTON HOME IS MORE BUSTLING THAN IT HAS BEEN IN YEARS. Sunday dinners have made a triumphant return, but this time, the Tornado Wranglers have joined forces with the old DOROTHY crew—a match that feels as natural as the changing seasons. The veterans and the newcomers click instantly, sharing laughter, stories, and a shared love for the chase.

The only one missing is Ben, who left for London weeks ago. He keeps in touch through social media, sending updates and the occasional email. Not long after his departure, Willow receives an article draft from him. Originally meant to highlight Tyler and his crew, the piece shifts focus to her and Kate—their journey to tame a tornado now front and center.

(Ben cannot help the romance plot line he throws in there; a storm-busted red pick-up, an experiment to change the game, and two chasers somehow falling in love through the winds and rain.

Willow's heart clenches reading the feature, realizing that every dream she's had as a child, born from those retellings of her family's past, has come true.)

The evening winds down as most of the older crew have said their goodbyes, leaving the rest to linger around a crackling fire in the Thornton yard. The stars shimmer brightly in the cool night sky, and the crisp air makes the roasted marshmallows taste sweeter and the beer colder and more satisfying.

Willow sits nestled in Tyler's lap, her head resting comfortably against his shoulder. She absently fidgets with the frayed edge of her jacket as his arms envelop her, his chin gently pressed against her hair, one hand tracing slow, soothing circles along her back. The warmth of the fire contrasts with the chill of the evening, wrapping the group in a cozy bubble of camaraderie. Around the fire sit Rabbit, Dusty, the Thorntons, Kate, Javi, Dani, and the Tornado Wranglers, their laughter and banter filling the stillness of the night.

Rabbit stirs the fire with a stick, breaking the companionable silence. "So," he starts, his tone warm and teasing, "you're really doing this? Back in the game full-time?"

Willow looks up, a small, determined smile curving her lips. "Yeah. All of us. Together."

Dani leans forward, a confident grin on her face as she jumps in. "The Tornado Wranglers will keep running as our own thing, but we're teaming up with whatever they're thing ends up being called. We'll document everything for the channel—get some revenue going for tornado relief, pull in investors, you know, the whole package."

Rabbit smirks, tossing another log into the flames. "You think your viewers will stick around for all the nerdy experiment stuff?"

"They already do," Willow counters, her gaze flicking to Tyler. "Didn't the first video about it get a big spike in views?"

Tyler chuckles, the sound rumbling pleasantly through her. "Pretty sure that was all you, weather girl. People can't look away."

Willow rolls her eyes, though her cheeks flush with warmth. "Yeah, yeah, smooth talker," she mutters. Then her tone softens, a hint of worry creeping in. "Right now, we're just trying to figure out our side of things. I don't know how we'll get the funding to even start. Lab space, new equipment, materials—it's a lot."

"Javi thinks we should go ahead and try the review board," Lilly chimes in, her gaze darting toward him.

Javi raises his hands in defense, leaning forward in his chair. "Okay, hear me out," he begins. "Yes, they're probably gonna say that it was the fire from the refinery or the smoke or a million other things that caused that tornado to vanish, and that's fine, too. But the point is, is that we know these things can be disrupted, and we need a whole new branch of research on how to harness these storms." He shrugs, taking a sip of his beer. "Data can come later."

Willow narrows her eyes playfully. "Data is what gets us that cash money," she says, rubbing her thumb and fingers together in a mock money gesture. "You're starting to sound like Kate now. 'Forget the data,'" she adds, mimicking Kate's voice with an exaggerated eye roll.

A marshmallow bounces off her head, and she glares at Kate, who grins smugly. "We'll get the data," Kate says confidently. "Then we can head back up to NOAA—they're not going anywhere."

Willow sighs, her voice quieter. "What if they say no, though?"

"You'll have the money," Jo interjects, her voice calm and firm, cutting through the fire's crackle.

Everyone turns to look at her, surprised. Jo leans casually against Dusty's chair, her arms crossed over her chest. Her gaze lands on Willow, a mix of seriousness and affection in her expression.

"What?" Willow asks, sitting up straighter in Tyler's lap, her brows drawing together in confusion.

"I'll invest," Jo clarifies, her tone leaving no room for doubt.

Willow shakes her head almost immediately. "Jo, no. I don't want nepotism money."

Jo huffs, her lips quirking into a small smirk. "It ain't like I don't have the money lying around after that book deal. You know, the one you never read."

Willow rolls her eyes, her voice tinged with mock exasperation. "I'll get around to reading it. It's not like I don't already know the story by heart. Hell, I could've written it myself."

Jo lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "You're gonna eat your words on that one, Tornado Thornton," Dusty interjects, grinning as he rises from his lawn chair.

Willow arches a brow, watching as Dusty jogs into the house. Moments later, he returns, a book in hand, its hardcover glinting in the firelight. He passes it to her with a triumphant grin.

The sight stops Willow short. It's that book—the same one she'd clutched nervously in her hands at the conference all those weeks ago, the day her life started changing again.

"Read the last chapter," Dusty says, his tone softening.

Willow hesitates, her hand trembling slightly as she runs her fingers over the smooth cover. She swallows hard before flipping to the table of contents.

Her eyes land on the last entry. Chapter 22: A Legacy in the Making.

She turns the pages, and her breath catches in her throat. At the top of the chapter is a photograph she knows well, though she hasn't seen it in years. There she is, front and center, a little girl with blonde pigtails, her favorite duck rain boots, and coat on, standing in front of the van she grew up waving goodbye to every storm season. Surrounding her is the old DOROTHY crew, the faces of her childhood: Meg, Mose, and the others. Right in the middle are Bill and Jo, their arms wrapped protectively around her, their grins radiating pride and love. The sight makes her heart ache with a bittersweet pang.

Willow traces the image with her fingertip before letting her eyes fall to the text below it. Her breath hitches as she reads the first line.

To this day, Dr. Jo Harding will claim that her and her husband's greatest achievement is not DOROTHY, or even the lives they helped save, but rather their daughter in all but blood, Willow Mae Thornton.

Willow blinks rapidly, the words blurring as tears well up in her eyes. She forces herself to keep reading, her life in print, how she chose storm chasing, raised on it by the village around her, until she took off on her own, doing work that even Jo herself could have never predicted, never trained her to do.

Word has it, if anyone is going to make a difference in this field again, at this scale, it will be her. Not because she's a Harding, not just to continue the legacy, but because she truly is made for it.

Her hand flies to her mouth, stifling a sob as her gaze lingers on the words. The firelight flickers over the page, but nothing could dim the emotions surging through her.

"I won't invest in you if you really don't want me to," Jo says softly, breaking the silence. "But know this—it's not nepotism money. I'm not giving it to you because you're my kid, or because of your name. I'm giving it to you because I believe in what you're doing. Because you're the future of this."

Willow looks up, her tear-filled eyes locking with Jo's. For a moment, she can't speak, the lump in her throat too heavy. Then, finally, she whispers, "Thank you, Jo."

Jo smiles, stepping closer and resting a hand on Willow's shoulder. "You don't have to thank me, bug. Just make me proud. Hell, you already have."

Willow nods, a small smile breaking through her tears. "Guess the next thing to do is think of a name to register," she murmurs.

"Just make sure it's better than Tornado Wranglers, please," Kate teases, raising an eyebrow.

"Hey!" Boone cuts in, feigning offense. "I'll have you know that name is cherished in a million of households."

Kate smirks. "Right, Boone. You keep telling yourself that."

◆ ◆ ◆

"WHAT DO YOU THINK?"

Willow stands frozen in the middle of the empty room, her boots clicking softly against the rustic wooden floors. She takes in the wide, open space and the sunlight filtering through the windows, casting long shadows on the walls. The house feels peaceful, untouched—an island of calm in the middle of nowhere. But her mind is racing, unsure of what exactly is happening.

She'd had no clue where Tyler was taking her tonight. He had picked her up in his newly, refurbished truck without much explanation, a sly grin on his face as he led her out of the city and into the heart of the Oklahoma countryside. The drive had been filled with a quiet kind of tension, the golden hues of the sunset spilling across the sky as they wound down narrow roads. She'd thought it was going to be another chase—he'd surprised her with plenty by now, but it never gets old—but then they'd pulled off a dirt path and stopped in front of a house with a "FOR SALE" sign planted firmly in the yard. The moment he'd pulled out a key, she realized this wasn't just a detour; this was something else entirely.

She looks around again, still unsure how to process the situation. "It's pretty," she says finally as she glances back at Tyler. "But we already signed the lease on a lab spot, though, cowboy."

(It's a small warehouse building in Tulsa, that they can do up with offices and a true lab with storage space for all of their barrels. It even comes with a handy garage that brought Tyler on board the moment she showed him the space she, Javi, and Kate scoped out.

Dani is getting the front window fitted with their new logo this week while Javi is already moving the furniture in.)

Tyler shifts slightly, running a hand through his hair. "Wasn't thinking about a lab," he replies, his usual charm slipping just a little as he tries to find the right words. "We've been talking about the partnership, and we kind of decided that packing up and moving up here might be the best idea."

Willow blinks, processing the words, trying to wrap her mind around the unexpected turn. "You want this house for the Wranglers?" It's a lot of space, and while she's not opposed to the idea, it still feels like a lot to take in.

Tyler lets out a quiet laugh, a little too easy, trying to brush off his own nerves. "Dani and Lilly are getting their own place, and Dexter would rather live out of that caravan than settle anywhere. Boone? He'll probably end up here." He pauses, his gaze steady on hers, his voice softening. "I was hoping you might, too."

Willow's heart flutters in her chest, the words catching her off guard. She stares at him for a moment, processing the weight of his confession. "Tyler, you don't have to go out and buy a whole house for that." The idea of living with him isn't something she's opposed to—hell, she's already living with him, more or less, with him crashing at her place between chases, sharing motel rooms on the road—but a house is still a big step. "We can get a bigger apartment or something—"

Tyler shrugs, a small, hesitant smile tugging at his lips as he scratches the back of his neck. "Yeah, we could," he says slowly as if weighing the options. "But when I saw this place, something about it just reminded me of home. The one you liked."

Her breath catches as she looks at him, the room suddenly feeling warmer, the space less empty. She thinks of that first weekend together, how he'd brought her to his childhood home. This house, with its open spaces and potential, feels the same. She can picture them here—storm maps scattered across the dining table, mornings spent together on the porch, returning home after chases, boots kicked off in the entryway, settling into a routine that feels just right. The thought makes her heart race.

"Thought maybe we could go ahead and plant some roots, y'know?"

Willow looks at him, her chest tightening as the weight of his words sinks in. She hadn't expected this. "You're serious." It's more of a statement than a question, as she tries to make sense of what he's saying.

"Dead serious," Tyler says, his voice steady now, but Willow catches the faint trace of vulnerability beneath it. "I know we're still figuring out the lab stuff, but I don't have anything to figure out with us." He steps closer, his hands finding her hips, his eyes locking with hers. "I've made up my mind, baby. I want to be where you are, and I want to build something here with you."

A silence settles between them as Willow lets it all sink in. She would follow him anywhere—even into a tornado, especially into a tornado—so long as he kept looking at her like he does, so filled with love that it could almost make her burst. He's looking at her that way now, his gaze full of hope, a quiet promise. Hope that lives in this house he's chosen for them, a house that feels like home even though it's still just a dream they're building together.

Tyler's unease breaks the stillness. "It's not too much, too soon, is it?"

Willow snorts softly, a grin tugging at her lips, though her mind is still catching up with the weight of his words. "Tyler, I drove into a tornado that would've killed me for you after two weeks." Her voice is teasing, but underneath it, her heart flutters, a warm, solid certainty settling deep inside her. "Feels pretty on-brand to buy a house together after two months."

"Then you're in?" He asks, still a little shaky, but his eyes remain steady, searching hers.

"I'm all in, cowboy," she assures him, no doubt in her mind. "Always have been. Always will be."

Tyler lets out a resounding sigh, head thrown back at her answer. "Thank god, because I kind of already bought the damn thing."

Willow laughs softly, shaking her head, a warm smile spreading across her face. "You're impossible."

Tyler chuckles, his arms pulling her in tighter. "Yeah, but you like me that way."

She pulls back just enough to meet his gaze, her eyes soft and filled with affection. "No," she says with a gentle smile, "I love you that way."

His breath catches for a moment, his expression softening as he pulls her closer again, their foreheads touching. "I ain't ever gonna get tired of hearing you say that."

"Trust me, I'm gonna be saying it the rest of my life."

(And he knows he'll make sure of that too one day, with his Nana's ring sitting in his glove compartment—hidden behind headshots and napkins.

Everything he's ever wanted is right here, with her.)

Willow looks up at him, her eyes playful. "You know, if Boone gets to move in, I think we should make room for Kate too."

Tyler raises an eyebrow at her bargain, a grin tugging at his lips. "Whatever you want, weather girl," he says softly, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead, the future ahead of them feeling clearer than ever.

And as the first sounds of a summer storm roll in, thunder falling in the air around them, she knows it's a bright one, with them storm chasing right into the sunset together.

—AUTHOR'S NOTE

and that is the end of the mainline story of falls like thunder

currently crying, currently sobbing.

epilogue coming soon and maybe some bonus chapters of willow with her other potential love interests who knows, but as of now, IT'S OVER

I hope you liked the ending, with the wranglers and team taming tornados teaming up, Jo being their investor to get them started up (the book coming full circle too) AND TYLER BUYING WILLOW A HOUSE BECAUSE OF HOW HAPPY SHE WAS AT HIS CHILDHOOD HOME.

they're in love, your honor.

i hope you all know how much this fic means to me and how much you all mean to me for reading it. thank you for all your love and support. you mean everything to me.

love,

kari