Brynne looped her arm through Eli’s and tugged him toward the backyard gate, which stood open. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep him nice and quiet,” she promised Sara.

“Nice and quiet isn’t exactly what I had in mind,” Eli said, for Brynne’s ears only. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve been held prisoner in a hospital for three weeks.”

She flushed slightly, but ignored him.

Sara settled into the driver’s seat, started the ignition, shut her car door and rolled down the window to reply. “If my brother misbehaves,” she called to Brynne, “and you’re forced to shoot him, I’ll understand.”

“I’m a dead man,” Eli murmured. “Because I definitely intend to misbehave.”

“Stop it,” Brynne whispered, smiling and waving as Sara buzzed the car window up again, backed up a little way and turned around.

“Not a chance,” he replied.

They went inside, man, woman and critter, and Festus, evidently exhausted by his duties as a one-dog welcoming committee, promptly made his way to his fleece-lined bed near the woodstove in the living room.

Brynne had built a fire earlier, and something savory was bubbling away in a crockpot on the kitchen counter. The mingled scents of woodsmoke and—was it chili?—were almost as tantalizing as the woman facing Eli now, with her arms around his waist.

He felt a rush of emotion, standing there like that, with Brynne holding him and being so obviously careful not to hurt him.

In that moment, Eli knew he had everything a man could reasonably want: a beautiful woman to love and be loved by in return, loyal friends and an extended family, a job he could hardly wait to get back to, a sturdy house to call his own and a damn fine dog.

The gratitude he felt was nearly overwhelming. It scalded the backs of his eyes and choked him up considerably.

“Could we just stand here like this until I can convince myself I’m not still back there in my hospital bed, dreaming I’m with you?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“You’re home,” Brynne assured him gently, rising onto the balls of her feet to plant a light kiss on his mouth.

He let his forehead rest against hers. “I’m with you. That’s what home means to me now, Brynne.”

“Funny,” she whispered, her amazing navy blue eyes misting over as she spoke, “but I feel the same way about you, Sheriff Garrett.”

He touched his mouth to hers, breathing his answer more than speaking it. “Hell of a coincidence, Bailey.”

She laughed, and the sound was the audible version of lying on his back on a Montana mountaintop, watching the northern lights fold and flex against a dark, star-strewn sky.

“I love you,” he said, and before she could answer, he kissed her.

It was their first real kiss in a long time, and it left them both dazed.