Note: This epilogue takes place four years after the end of All the Stars. During the last scene of the book, we see Taylor and Judd attending the grand opening of her Sugar Pine Barn, along with her friends and the members of the rodeo club.
TAYLOR
In the silence of the pre-dawn kitchen, Taylor sat at the counter and reviewed her to-do list while sipping extra strong coffee from her “Yes, I’m actually Supermom” mug. From the hallway came the sound of a bedroom door opening and closing, and Taylor cringed, hoping Claire wasn’t awake already.
She had so much to do that week, and she’d gotten up early so she could tackle her list without the assistance of a three-year-old whose moods swung wildly between cheerfully helpful and passionately ill-tempered.
“Good morning.” Judd emerged from the hallway then, looking as handsome as ever with his stubble and messy hair.
“Good morning, yourself.”
He came around behind her and leaned down to give her a kiss. He straightened up, cupped her breasts, and leaned against her so she could feel his arousal through his sweatpants. “Want to get in a quickie before the little monster gets up?”
His thumbs grazed her nipples, and even as the warmth of desire collected between her legs, she leaned back against him and shook her head. “I’d love to, but I can’t. We have so much to do before this weekend.”
Breath warm in her ear, which sent shivers over her skin, he said, “We’ll get it all done. There’s two of us, plus a pint-sized assistant.”
She smiled, despite herself. “I admire your confidence, Mr. O’Connor. But you didn’t take time off work so we could spend the week makin’ bacon.”
“Are you making bacon, Mommy?” Claire came into the kitchen, all wild hair and bright eyes, and Taylor mentally adjusted the timing of her day, moving all the tasks requiring her full attention to her pint-sized assistant’s naptime.
Judd gave Taylor’s breasts one last sneaky caress before holding out his arms. “Come here, Scary Clairy.”
“Da-ad.” Grinning, she ran to him, and he scooped her up. Taylor’s heart warmed at the way Claire wrapped her arms around Judd’s neck and squeezed.
“What?” He kissed her cheek, all innocence. “I think that’s the winner.”
“No.” Her lower lip stuck out, making Taylor laugh. “Scary Clairy is not going to be my nickname.”
“Why not? You don’t want me using it when I give a toast at your wedding?”
“Absolutely not. I thought you said something about bacon.”
Judd set her down. “Well, you may have gotten your love for bacon from me, but you got that stern turn of phrase from your mother.”
“What’s a turn of phrase?”
“Ask your mom.” He set her down and ruffled her hair. “She’s the librarian.”
Claire clambered up into Taylor’s lap, and Taylor pushed away the notebook in which she’d been prioritizing her list. “It’s an interesting way of saying something. Like, ‘Absolutely not,’ instead of, ‘No.’”
Serious, Claire nodded. “Got it. Is there a turn of phrase for making bacon?”
Taylor’s gaze caught Judd’s, and his eyes twinkled.
“I’m sure there is,” Taylor said. She kissed Claire’s temple, and Judd said, “In fact, making bacon might be the turn of phrase.”
Amused, Taylor shot him a faux-angry look as he moved to the coffeemaker to pour himself a cup and she stood up and set Claire on the barstool. “I’ll tell you what, Scary Clairy.”
“Hey! That’s not my nickname, Mom.”
“Right. I’ll tell you what. I’ll make you bacon if you promise to be a big helper today when we’re getting the barn ready for the THING this weekend. We have a lot to do to get ready, and it’s going to be all hands on deck.”
“What’s all hands on deck?”
“It’s a turn of phrase,” Judd supplied, his tone helpful.
Lips twitching, Taylor said, “It means everyone comes together to get something done. Daddy’s right—it’s a turn of phrase from the old days, when people worked on ships, and they needed everyone to come up onto the deck and take care of a problem or tackle a project.”
Claire nodded. “Okay. Can I have some milk?”
“I got it.” Judd moved to the fridge while Taylor laid strips of bacon in a pan.
As they went about their morning routine, she felt grounded and settled in a way she never had before. Sugar Pine Barn had grown so much in the four years since it opened; the barn was home to a dozen boarding horses, and featured a robust calendar of riding lessons, tack shows, and competitions.
But this weekend’s hunter jumper competition was important. If it went well, it had the potential to put Sugar Pine Barn on the map—not just in Arizona, but nationwide. The event’s success would give Taylor and her clients so many opportunities. Her students would have a leg up when they applied for elite training programs or college scholarships. She’d be able to bring in big-name trainers for workshops. She’d be able to breed her horses with the best lines in the country.
Goosebumps ran down her arms at the potential, and she shivered.
Of course, Judd noticed. “Thinking about making bacon?” Again, he was pressed up against her from behind, his voice in her ear and sending a fresh round of shivers over her skin.
She laughed. “Yes. As a matter of fact, I am.”
He wrapped an arm around her waist. She flipped the bacon and laid her head on his shoulder. “Really?”
“No.” She sighed. “I’m thinking about the hunter jumper competition.”
“You have a one-track mind, you know that?”
“I do know that, yes. But you love me anyway, right?”
“Right.” He squeezed her waist and reached up to take down a plate, which he lined with a paper towel and set on the counter next to the stove. “I love you because you have a one-track mind.”
“What’s a one-track mind?”
* * *
The sky was still dark when Taylor woke three days later. She lay still in the silence, going over her remaining to-dos for what was surely the millionth time. As if his consciousness was tuned into hers, Judd rolled toward her, sliding a hand over her bare stomach and nuzzling her neck.
“I can practically hear your mind racing.”
“I know, it’s awful. I just want it to get here, so I can stop thinking about it.”
“Two more days.”
She sighed. “Yeah. Two more days of stress.”
“I can think of a great stress reliever.” His palm skimmed up her ribcage and cupped her breast.
Desperately wanting to get lost in the sensations of her skin touching his, she rolled toward him and reached between them. “You’ve been thinking about it for a while, huh?”
Chuckling, he dropped a kiss on her collarbone and pressed into her touch. “Yeah. I have. It’s possible I was dreaming about it before your mind chatter woke me up.”
Taylor shushed the half of her brain telling her she didn’t have time for this; she should get out of bed and start working on that pesky to-do list. She let the other half of her brain—the half telling her that making love to her husband would, in fact, be a great stress reliever and she really needed that—take over.
While his mouth made its way to her breast, she stroked the length of him. When he slipped his fingers into her center, she gasped and arched against him. And then he was inside her, and they were moving in rhythm as the sun peeked over the horizon, casting a magical pinkish glow through the window.
Afterwards, Taylor rolled onto her back, her body loose and pliable, a smile playing on her lips.
“Told you.” Judd gave her a smacking kiss before getting out of bed. “I’m going to hit the shower and then we’re going to hit it hard.”
“I thought we just did hit it hard.”
He turned around to smirk at her, and once she heard the water running, she pulled on an oversized t-shirt and went into the kitchen. For the first time in days, she felt relaxed—so much so that she put on some music as she started the coffee and breakfast. Swaying in time to the beat, she cracked eggs and popped bread into the toaster.
Before the eggs were done cooking or the bread was done toasting, Judd’s rushed footsteps sounded from down the hall. The skin tingled on the back of her neck when she realized those footsteps bore the distinct tone of his work boots.
But he was off work. And he wore those boots only when he was on the clock. Which meant there was some kind of work emergency—because he wouldn’t leave her just before the competition otherwise.
He appeared in the entryway to the kitchen, dressed in his uniform, his movements sharp and fast. “Have you seen my work keys?”
“What happened?” Two kinds of alarm made her heart race, created a coat of adrenaline in the back of her throat.
“I can’t remember where I put them.”
“I mean, what happened that you have to go in to work?”
“Oh.” He stilled. “A kid’s missing.”
She swallowed. “Oh, no.”
“Yeah.” He was in motion again, searching the counter and the top of the fridge and the dining room table. “They’re asking for all hands on deck.” He paused again and looked at her, his lips quirked into a half-smile.
“Of course.”
“Hopefully, I won’t be gone too long. These things usually resolve quick.”
Feeling wooden, she nodded. He had to go. She knew that. If Claire went missing, she’d rally the entire town to find her. But she could still wish he didn’t have to go right now, when they still had so much to do for the competition.
“Found ‘em.” He held up his keys.
“Oh, good.” She hated herself for wishing he hadn’t found them and was forced to stay home.
As if he could read her mind (after five years of marriage, she was convinced he actually could), he rushed over to her and kissed her cheek. “I know, the timing is terrible. I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise.”
And then he was gone, the whirlwind of energy giving way to complete stillness, except for the coffee brewing and the eggs cooking in the pan.
Her phone dinged with a text from him: Call Rose and Jessie. They’ll be happy to help.
Suddenly near tears, she bit her lower lip and wrote back: Good thinking. Good luck!
He wrote back a simple Thanks, and she knew he’d switched into work mode.
The tears still threatened, and she chastised herself. “Get it together, Taylor.”
“Yeah, get it together, Mama.” Claire’s giggle grounded her, and she turned to tell her daughter good morning.
An hour later, she was waiting outside when Rose and Jessie pulled up, both of them in Jessie’s Jeep.
“The troops are here,” Jessie climbed down from the driver’s seat and opened her arms for a hug.
“Thank you so much.”
Rose joined them for a group hug, and Celeste was right behind her.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Taylor said to Celeste. “Now that you’re in the double digits, I’m counting on your help with Claire while we get the barn ready.”
Celeste grinned. “You know I’m here for it.”
Within minutes, they’d situated the kids in the living room with a movie and were headed to the barn.
“This place is already spick and span,” Rose said. “I’m not really sure what you want us to do.”
“I know.” Taylor sighed. “We’ve been working on it all week. Now I need to set up the tables and then lay out the ribbons and get all the judges’ paperwork ready. There are a million cobwebs in here.” She glanced up at a corner where the ceiling met a wall and her nose wrinkled involuntarily. “I still haven’t prepped the stables where the competitors will put their horses, and I wanted to drag the parking lot.”
Rose and Jessie shared a look.
“What?” Taylor looked from Rose to Jessie and back to Rose.
“I mean,” Jessie said, and Rose shrugged. “I doubt anyone will notice cobwebs in a barn. And I think the parking lot is fine. Nice and smooth.”
“Fine isn’t good enough. It has to be perfect.”
Rose nodded, her expression one Taylor had seen her use on Celeste a million times. “Okay. We’ll make it perfect.”
Inside the barn, Taylor pointed to the folding tables stacked against one wall. “We’ll need to set up all those tables and move them all into the breezeway. We’ll keep the doors closed for now so we can start laying everything out.”
They got to work, each of them grabbing a table.
“That’s too bad Judd had to work,” Jessie said. “I’m sure he didn’t want to leave you in your hour of need.”
Rose laughed, the sound an incredulous whoop. “Wow. You really infused that sentence with some feeling.”
A blush crept up Jessie’s cheeks as she paused to look at Taylor. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
Taylor laughed, easing some of the pressure in her chest. “No, you’re right.” She pulled out the legs on one side of the table and moved to the other side. “I’m sure he didn’t want to leave me in my time of need. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. When I was feeling a little sorry for myself this morning, I reminded myself that if Claire went missing, I’d want everyone in town to help look for her. I’d bring the whole world to a screeching halt until we found her.”
“That’s a good outlook,” Rose said.
Taylor set the table upright. “But I’m still stressing because there’s so much to do.”
Jessie set her table upright, too. “We’ll get it done.”
They worked throughout the day, stopping only for a short lunch break with the kids and then continuing until late afternoon when the sun had made its arc across the sky.
“We can call it a day, guys,” Taylor said. “Want to stay for dinner?”
“I wish I could,” Rose said, “but I promised Mac I’d be home for dinner.”
“And Shane’s doing sunset skydiving tonight, so I need to get home to Alvin.”
“Of course,” Taylor said, hoping her friends couldn’t see her heart sinking.
After they’d gone, she started a pot of water boiling for spaghetti, and shot Judd a text: Any updates?
He didn’t text back until she and Claire had eaten, and she had bathed Claire and put her to bed. Not yet. I’ll text more later. Love you.
Love you.
She should spend her remaining hours of wakefulness doing something productive for the hunter jumper competition. Eyes gritty from exhaustion, she sat on the couch and opened her laptop. Even as she updated her spreadsheet with everything she, Rose, and Jessie had done that day, her eyelids felt heavy.
The front door opening startled her awake, and she closed her computer and sat up as Judd shut the door and locked it.
“Hey.”
He jumped at the sound of her voice, but quickly relaxed and smiled at her before sitting down on the bench to take off his boots. “Hey. Did I wake you?”
“Yeah. I’m glad you did, though. Otherwise I would have spent the night on the couch. Did you find the kid?”
Sitting up and undoing the Velcro on his vest, Judd shook his head. “Not yet. It’s a little girl, Taylor. Claire’s age. Her name is Elizabeth. She has the same toddler smile as Claire. And when they showed us the photo of her, I almost broke. She was wearing the same pajamas Claire has. You know, the princess ones with the sparkly crown?”
While he spoke, Taylor had come around the back of the couch. “Need a hug?”
“I sure do.”
He stood and came to her, and she held him for several long moments. “Better?”
“Yes. Thank you. They brought in some fresh guys, but I’m going to grab a few hours of sleep and then go back out.”
“You’re going to go back out?” Yes, her voice rose a few octaves. And yes, she realized right away that she should have simply said, “Okay,” and gotten ready for bed with him.
His posture stiffened and he took a step back. “Yes, I’m going back out.” He spoke slowly, his tone measured. “We haven’t found her yet.”
Her mouth suddenly dry, she licked her lips. “Of course.”
“You do realize that as important as this competition is to you, the life of a little girl is even more important.”
“Yes. Of course I do. I was just surprised, that’s all. Since you said they brought in a fresh group of people to search.”
He gave her a curt nod. “Well, I’ll be fresh after I get a few hours’ sleep. And then I’m going to go back out and search until we find her.”
Before she could say anything else, he was stalking toward the bedroom. And by the time she had put her laptop on the charger and turned off all the lights in the house, he was in bed. She got under the covers and laid there, unable to sleep until his alarm went off a few hours later.
While he got up and got ready, she kept still and quiet, not pretending to be asleep, exactly, but also not letting him know she was awake.
Some time after his car pulled out of the driveway, she finally drifted off, only for Claire to wake her what felt like minutes later. She pulled back the covers, inviting her daughter to join her, and while she scrambled in, Taylor checked her phone for an update from Judd. Nothing. She bit back a sigh.
Once Claire was all snuggled in, Taylor said, “This is it. Today’s our last day to get ready for the competition.”
Claire squealed, her excitement lifting Taylor’s spirits just a little. “We’d better eat a good breakfast, Mama. I’ll help you.”
Once again, conflicting emotions coursed through Taylor’s veins while she and Claire made breakfast. On one hand, she was so, so happy Judd was the kind of man who wouldn’t stop searching until crews found the missing girl. Elizabeth. On the other hand, Judd’s testiness at her disappointment didn’t seem fair. They’d been planning the competition for months. It meant so much to her.
She scooped eggs onto plates and buttered the two slices of toast. Wasn’t she allowed to want his help and support?
Then she imagined what Elizabeth’s parents were going through and she felt guilty for even thinking that way. She’d always prided herself on being a strong, independent woman, and in this situation, she’d be no different. Besides, her two best friends would be back that day to help.
Or, maybe not.
Just as she set the two plates on the counter, her phone dinged with a text from Rose: I’m so sorry, Taylor. Celeste woke up with a high fever. I hope she wasn’t contagious yesterday! And I know how much you need our help, but obviously, we’re not coming over. I’d hate to risk infecting you, if we haven’t already.
Tears stung the backs of Taylor’s eyes, and blurred her vision as she wrote back, Oh, no! Please tell Celeste I love her and I hope she feels better. I’ll miss you guys today.
“Breakfast is served,” she called to Claire.
Jessie was next: I feel terrible about this, but I can’t come over today. Alvin took a spill this morning and hit his head. Even though he swears he’s fine and keeps trying to shoo me out of the house, I just can’t leave him. Someone needs to keep an eye on him.
A groan escaped Taylor’s throat. What was she going to do now? There was absolutely no way she could get everything done without another adult to help. She spiked her fingertips into her hair.
“Everything okay, Mommy?”
“Everything’s fine,” she said, her voice thick. “Everything’s great. And I’m really going to need your help today, okay? Rose, Celeste, and Jessie can’t come over after all.”
Claire’s forehead wrinkled. “Why not?”
Taylor explained, and Claire nodded, businesslike. “Okay. Well, we can do it, Mommy. We can get ready for the competition, just the two of us. But we’re really going to need a good breakfast, now.”
They ate and then went outside, and Taylor’s heart swelled with gratitude that Claire was in her cheerfully helpful mood.
“You know,” she said as Claire watched her hook the metal drag up to the trailer hitch, “I think your new nickname should be Cowgirl Claire. After all your hard work today, you’re going to be a real cowgirl.”
Claire smiled, then wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”
They drove laps around the parking lot, using the drag to smooth the gravel while nursery rhyme music played and Claire danced along, giddy at being allowed to sit in the passenger seat without her car seat. They had to stop twice for Claire to use the bathroom, but Taylor celebrated when they were done.
Then they moved on to the barn to do cobweb removal and turn on the watering system. Claire insisted on a snack break after they’d vacuumed cobwebs from half the stalls, and ran up and down the center aisle pretending to be a Pegasus while Taylor worked on the second half.
Taylor turned on the watering system and Claire helped check all the bowls to make sure they filled, then insisted on a lunch break.
Every time they walked away from their work, Taylor felt like crying.
At one point, Rose texted to check in, and Taylor lamented their slow pace. Rose wrote back with a laughing emoji, and then, Don’t worry. It doesn’t have to be perfect, Taylor. People aren’t going to be looking for cobwebs, I promise!
Taylor wrote back, I’m sure you’re right, even though she wasn’t sure at all.
Throughout the day, she checked her phone compulsively for an update from Judd, and a fresh wave of disappointment hit her each time she found he hadn’t sent one. By dinnertime, she felt despondent.
Her hunter jumper competition was the following day, and instead of looking forward to it in happy anticipation, she was eating mac and cheese with hot dogs and calculating just how early she’d have to get up to finish what she wanted to before all the competitors started showing up.
Worse, she didn’t even know if Judd would be around Sugar Pine Barn to help with the actual event.
She pushed her dish aside and Claire looked at her with wide eyes. “Are you sick, Mama?”
“No, sweetheart. I’m just tired, that’s all.”
She put on a cartoon for Claire, cleaned up dinner, and then poured herself a single (but healthy) glass of wine before settling down with her notepad and pen. “Lists are good,” she said on a sigh.
Organize score sheets
Move judges’ tables outside
Put up signs
Set up judges’ food table
Set up PA system
All before 8 a.m.
That was just what she had to do before the event. Never mind that she needed at least a couple other sets of hands to actually run it. Her spreadsheet included a column assigning each duty to a person, and at this point, the likelihood of all her people being there seemed slim. She envisioned herself going in and putting her own name down for every single task. That, at least, made her smile. Momentarily.
How had she ever thought putting on her own event was a good idea? Again, she rubbed her temples, hoping to prevent her headache from growing any more intense.
Unable to bear waiting any longer, she texted Judd and then took Claire through the bedtime routine. When she returned to her phone an hour later—after singing several songs in the bath, reading three bedtime stories, and bringing a glass of water and a tissue into Claire’s room—she had a response from Judd: No updates.
“Would it kill him to say something like, ‘Sorry,’ or ‘I hope you’re getting a lot done’?”
Knowing she was being irrational, she picked up her half-empty glass of wine and sipped. She checked her list—again—looking for any tasks she could check off that night and coming up empty.
Just so she’d have something to check off, she wrote down, Go to bed.
* * *
When her alarm went off at 5 a.m., Taylor groaned. It was dark, but she didn’t have to reach for Judd’s spot to know he wasn’t there; she’d woken several times throughout the night to check, and he hadn’t come back.
Dread filled her limbs. If he was still out, they hadn’t found Elizabeth, and the more time that passed, the smaller their chances of finding her alive.
Determined not to feel sorry for herself about preparing for and running the competition on her own, she sent out a fervent prayer for the search team to find Elizabeth, and then got out of bed.
An hour later, dressed and caffeinated, she woke Claire and fed her. Then they went outside, where the sun was just peeking over the horizon.
“Ready to get to work, Claire?”
Brushing her hands together, businesslike, Claire nodded. “Ready. We can do this, Mommy.”
Taylor nodded, too, and as they headed toward the barn, she thought she heard the sound of a car turning into the driveway. Hope brightened in her chest. Judd. Just as she saw the headlights and realized it wasn’t his patrol car, she saw another car behind the first. And then two more.
Panic set in. People wouldn’t possibly show up this early for the competition, would they? No, if these were all competitors, surely one of them would be towing a horse trailer.
The cars parked in a neat row. The first driver’s door opened, and Taylor gasped. “Zion!”
The kid (okay, he wasn’t a kid any more, technically, but she’d always think of him that way) grinned, and looked back as the others emerged: Raven, Henry, Scarlett, and Olivia.
“What are you doing here?” She asked the question even as she bounded up to wrap each of them in a hug.
“We’re here to help,” Olivia said, “and we brought treats.” She opened the back door of her car and retrieved a bakery box, which she handed to Taylor.
“Thank you. But how did you—”
“Mr. O’Connor texted us.” Raven hooked a thumb at the main road. “Said he’s in town helping with that search, and asked if we could pitch in.”
“He feels terrible he’s not here.” Scarlett’s forehead wrinkled.
Taylor’s throat tightened. She couldn’t believe she’d ever doubted his dedication to the competition, to her. She was an idiot.
“Are you crying, Ms. Cole? Er, Mrs. O’Connor?” Zion smiled broadly. “Are you crying tears of joy because you missed us?”
“Something like that.”
* * *
JUDD
He’d been tired before. Bone tired. Dog tired. Exhausted. But never bleary-eyed. Until now. Judd now knew what people meant when they referred to someone being so tired, they couldn’t see straight.
The sun was rising … finally. Spears of white light illuminated a few gray clouds as the sky turned a pinkish orange. The night and the darkness had stretched on for what felt like days as he trudged along, shouting for Elizabeth. Although he was surrounded by others doing the same—they’d set up a line search between the campground where she’d gone missing and the lake they were all praying she hadn’t gotten to—he hollered as loud as he could. His throat was raw, and his voice was hoarse, and he would kill for some hot coffee to warm his numb fingers.
Not for the first time, he thought he spotted a flash of red ahead. Elizabeth was wearing a red hoodie, and he’d hallucinated seeing it since the search started. He blinked. Blinked again. It was still there.
“Elizabeth!”
The search and rescue team leader, who also happened to be a retired cop, had told the searchers kids didn’t always respond when strangers shouted for them.
“They may be afraid they’re going to be in trouble, or maybe their parents have warned them about stranger danger,” the guy said, smoothing his mustache. “So don’t expect her to shout back at you. Keep your eyes sharp.”
The red blotch moved. Could it be her? Why did no one else see her? They’re all as tired as you are, O’Connor.
And then he was running, his legs leaden but obeying his brain’s command to move. Right, left, right, left, right, left. “Elizabeth!” His throat was on fire. His legs were on fire. The red blotch moved again and revealed an oval of white, with two surprised eyes and a little O of a mouth. It was her. It was her!
“I see her!”
Shouts came from the others, relaying the message that he saw Elizabeth, but his focus was on the little girl in front of him. He reached her and began to check her over. Smudges of dirt covered her face, but he didn’t see any cuts or scrapes.
He knelt down and took her hands in his. “Are you okay?”
Her chin wobbled. She nodded as the tears started to fall, streaking the dirt on her cheeks with clean spots.
“Are you hurt?”
She shook her head and he did the only thing he could think of: he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her. Her body melted against his and she sobbed. Without warning, he started to cry, too.
“You’re okay,” he told her, bouncing a little just like he’d do with Claire. She wailed, and his heart broke for her. “It must have been scary, being lost.”
She nodded against his neck. The others started to surround them, talking in low murmurs while those farthest out continued shouting in victory.
“I’m going to take you to your parents.”
She clung to him, her arms tight around his neck, and with a renewed energy coming from some invisible reserve, he headed toward their command post.
Her parents were overjoyed, naturally, and their tears made Judd cry all over again. They thanked him and the other searchers repeatedly, and Judd kept swiping at his eyes in response to their gratitude.
He made his report to the incident commander, and then he got in his car to head home, stopping only once to grab the biggest possible cup of the gas station’s Big Buzz coffee. God, he hoped Taylor wasn’t still miffed at him. He understood; she’d been planning the competition for months, and she was counting on his help.
But, to be fair, he’d been miffed at her, too. A missing child was more important than a hunter jumper competition, any day. Which he knew she knew. At a red light, he rubbed his gritty eyes.
Exhaustion and relief mixed to create another wave of emotion when he saw the kids’ cars lined up in the parking lot, under the Sugar Pine Barn arch. They’d all shown up: Zion, Raven, Henry, Olivia, and Scarlett. Rubbing his hand over his face, he tamped down that emotion. It wouldn’t do for the kids to see him cry.
“Actually, they’re adults now, O’Connor,” he told himself as he got out of the car.
“Daddy!” Claire’s shriek sounded across the property, and she came running, arms out, hair flying behind her.
“Scary Clairy!” She groaned, even as she flung her arms around his neck and he lifted her up, squeezing her tight, emotion overtaking him.
Just as he was about to ask her where her mom was, Taylor came running, too, and he reached out with one arm to hug her.
“They found her!” Taylor said, and the relief in her voice erased any of the irritation Judd had carried with him when he left home the day before.
“I know,” Judd said, kissing her on the mouth. “I found her.”
She grabbed his shoulder and held him at arm’s length as if to check whether he was being serious. “You found her?!”
“I did.” He choked back another sob and she hugged him again.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice came out in an almost whisper, but grew stronger as she continued. “I was being selfish. I wanted you here. This competition is so important to me, but neither an event nor my business will ever be as important as a child. I was being childish and I’m sorry.”
“And I’m sorry I wasn’t more compassionate. I could have taken the time to explain my reasoning. I was so focused in, and I could have handled it better.”
She tilted her head back. “I love you, you know.”
“And I love you.”
They kissed, but only for a couple of seconds before Claire said, “Okay, okay, guys. We’ve got a competition to put on.” She sat up straight in Judd’s arms and pointed at the driveway where, sure enough, people were starting to pull in.
“By the way, thank you for calling in the troops,” Taylor said. “They’ve been a huge help. In fact, you could go in and go to sleep. I’m sure you’re exhausted.”
“You’re welcome. And no way. I’m exhausted but caffeinated. And I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
Throughout the day, Judd ran this way and that, following orders, moving jumps and tables, carrying food, refilling coolers, calling contestants, and handing out medals. Every time he saw Taylor, he felt another surge of pride. She was all confidence, in her element, making decisions and giving directions like she was meant for it. And the people who’d come to the event were having fun. He heard laughing and happy chatter and so many compliments.
At one point, when he and Zion were refilling the judges’ sandwich tray, he said, “Thanks again for coming, Z. I couldn’t be prouder of you and all the kids—Raven, Henry, Scarlett, and Olivia. Not to mention grateful to you. I owe you one.”
“You don’t owe me, man,” Zion said, his eyebrows drawn together like that was the most ridiculous thing he’d heard. “If anything, I owe you. You saved me in high school. Call me any time, for anything.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
The rest of the day went by in a blur, and then everyone was packing up and heading out and the Sugar Pine Barn property was once again quiet.
Taylor, Judd, and Claire stood just outside the barn as the last trucks and trailers pulled onto the main road.
Taylor leaned her head on Judd’s shoulder and sighed. “I can say with some certainty that went pretty well.”
“I’d say so,” Judd said. “So many people asked me if you’re doing another event next year.”
“What do you think?”
“I think we are. We definitely are. But for now, we’re going inside and straight to bed.”
Claire groaned again. “Bedtime already?”
“I’m sure we could all use some sleep,” Taylor said. “Especially Daddy.”
As they started heading toward the house, he let his hand cup her butt and squeeze. “I could use some of that, yes. After I finally get you in bed.”
“Mr. O’Connor, you’re incorrigible.”
“I know. And you love me for it.”
“I sure do.”