An Orphan’s Rocky Road to Love – Extended Epilogue

The scent of warm earth and wildflowers drifted through the open window, mingling with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. The sun, a golden beacon in the vast western sky, cast long rays across the rolling hills and pastures surrounding the Reisinger ranch. A breeze carried the distant sounds of cattle lowing and birds chirping—a peaceful harmony that had become the backdrop of Simone’s life.

She stood at the large wooden table in the kitchen, kneading dough with practiced ease, her hands dusted with flour. Her once-pristine apron bore evidence of her morning’s work, but she didn’t mind. Baking had become a source of joy, a way to start each day with a sense of purpose. It was a far cry from the ink-stained ledgers and courthouse halls she had once known, yet it felt just as fulfilling.

A delighted squeal broke the morning stillness.

“Mama, look!”

Simone turned just in time to see Henry, her five-year-old son, burst through the door, his golden curls bouncing with each step. He clutched something in his tiny hands, his excitement barely contained. Following close behind was Gennie, now a poised young woman of twenty, her laughter warm as summer rain.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Simone asked, wiping her hands on her apron as Henry rushed toward her.

“Look what Aunt Gennie helped me catch!” He opened his palms to reveal a squirming frog, its speckled skin glistening. “A real big one!”

Simone bit back a smile. “That’s quite the prize, Henry. But I hope you don’t plan on keeping it inside the house.”

The boy’s face scrunched in thought, then he let out a dramatic sigh. “Guess not,” he admitted, glancing at his aunt. “Aunt Gennie says frogs need lots of space to be happy.”

“That’s right,” Gennie said, ruffling his hair. “And I think this little fellow would much rather be in the creek than Mama’s kitchen.”

Henry pouted for a moment but then nodded. “Okay! I’ll go let him go.”

Simone watched as her son scurried back outside, leaving the door swinging in his wake. She turned to Gennie, crossing her arms with mock severity. “Teaching my son the wonders of muddy creatures, are you?”

Gennie grinned. “It’s the best part of childhood, Simone. You of all people should know that.”

Simone couldn’t argue. There was a time when she and Gennie had no place to call home, no security beyond what they could scrape together. Now, they stood in a house filled with warmth, laughter, and love. It was a gift she never took for granted.

Gennie moved to the stove, where a kettle was beginning to whistle. “Speaking of adventures,” she said as she poured herself a cup of tea, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you. You know how Fritz and I have been helping out at the schoolhouse?”

Simone nodded, lifting an eyebrow. “You’ve mentioned it once or twice.”

“Well,” Gennie hesitated, then smiled. “We’re thinking of opening one of our own. A real school, Simone, not just a small room above the church. Fritz has been talking to the town council, and—”

The sound of approaching hooves interrupted her.

Wade’s voice carried from outside. “I’ll get it, Henry—hold on now, don’t run in front of the horses.”

Simone’s heart gave its familiar flutter at the sound of her husband’s voice, even after six years of marriage.

“Sounds like Wade’s home,” she said, wiping her hands on a cloth. “We’ll talk more about this school idea later, Gennie. I want to hear everything.”

Gennie smiled. “I knew you would.”

Just then, the door swung open again, and Wade stepped inside, his boots tracking dust over the wooden floor. His green eyes found Simone immediately, and a slow smile spread across his face.

“Morning, Mrs. Reisinger,” he drawled.

Simone smirked. “You’re dusty.”

“Cattle don’t move themselves,” he replied, stepping forward and brushing a loose curl from her cheek. “Miss me?”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the way her cheeks flushed. “Just a little.”

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Good, because I sure missed you.”

From outside, Henry’s delighted voice rang out.

“Papa! Come see the frog Aunt Gennie helped me catch!”

Wade chuckled. “Better see what trouble my son’s gotten into before he decides to bring it to bed with him.” He winked at Simone before heading back out.

Simone exhaled, feeling the warmth of the moment settle deep in her chest. The life they had built here—simple, full of love and laughter—was everything she had ever wanted.

And she wouldn’t change a single thing.

Later that afternoon, Simone found herself on the wide front porch, a cool glass of lemonade in her hands as she rocked gently in one of the wooden chairs Wade had built for her. The late summer air carried the scent of fresh hay and wild sage, and the land stretched out before her in golden waves beneath the endless blue sky.

Henry sat on the porch steps, scribbling in the small notebook Simone had given him for his letters. Every now and then, he glanced up, deep in thought, before returning to his work with the seriousness of a seasoned rancher making important calculations.

From inside, Simone could hear Gennie and Fritz chatting as they prepared supper. The aroma of roasting chicken and fresh cornbread wafted through the open door, making her stomach rumble in anticipation.

The rhythmic thud of boots on the wooden steps signaled Wade’s return. He carried a fresh bundle of firewood under one arm, setting it down near the pile by the door before dusting off his hands.

“You planning to sit there all evening, Mrs. Reisinger?” he teased, leaning against the porch railing.

Simone smiled over the rim of her glass. “Maybe. It’s not every day I get a moment to sit and enjoy the view.”

Wade’s gaze drifted to the horizon. “It’s a good view.” Then he turned his eyes back to her. “But not as good as this one.”

Simone shook her head at his flirtation, but the warmth it stirred in her was undeniable. “You’re hopeless,” she murmured, though the affection in her voice was clear.

He stepped closer, brushing his fingers over her knuckles as she set her glass down. “Hopelessly in love with you,” he corrected, his voice low and familiar.

Before she could respond, Henry let out a dramatic sigh. “You two are always talking about love.” He wrinkled his nose and turned back to his notebook. “I think it’s silly.”

Wade chuckled. “You think so now, son, but just wait.”

Henry made a face. “Nope. I’m gonna be a cowboy. No time for mushy stuff.”

Simone exchanged a knowing look with Wade, amusement dancing between them. “That’s what your papa said once,” she told Henry. “Didn’t work out so well for him, did it?”

Wade scoffed. “I’d say it worked out just fine.”

Simone arched a brow. “Oh?”

He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “I got you, didn’t I?”

A flush crept up Simone’s neck, and she swatted at him playfully. “Go wash up before supper, cowboy.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, winking as he straightened.

Henry, oblivious to his parents’ exchange, flipped to a fresh page in his notebook. “Mama, how do you spell ‘adventure’?”

Simone’s heart warmed. “A-D-V-E-N-T-U-R-E,” she spelled out.

Henry nodded, carefully forming each letter. “I’m gonna write a story about a cowboy who goes on a big adventure,” he declared.

Simone smoothed his curls and kissed the top of his head. “Sounds like a fine story.”

As Wade disappeared inside, Simone let herself savor the peace of the moment. They had come so far—from a woman who had once fought to survive on her own, to a wife and mother whose heart was full.

And she had no doubt that their greatest adventures were still ahead.

As dusk settled over the Reisinger homestead, the family gathered around the long wooden dining table, the oil lamps casting a warm, flickering glow. The aroma of roasted chicken, buttery cornbread, and fresh greens filled the air as Gennie and Fritz carried the last of the dishes to the table.

“Alright, everyone, dig in,” Gennie announced, settling into her seat beside Fritz, who gave her a knowing smile before slicing into the golden-brown chicken.

Simone watched the way Gennie’s eyes shone when she glanced at her husband. She and Fritz had married just two years after Simone and Wade, and despite her initial hesitation, Gennie had found the kind of steady, quiet love she never thought she deserved. Now, as she laughed at something Fritz whispered in her ear, Simone knew her sister was exactly where she was meant to be.

Henry, always eager, reached for the cornbread, but Wade gently tapped his wrist. “What do we say first, son?”

Henry huffed dramatically but folded his hands together. “Thank you for this food, and for Mama, Papa, Aunt Gennie, and Uncle Fritz. And thank you for the horses, the cows, and—oh!—for the adventure story I’m writing.”

Simone bit back a smile as Wade cleared his throat, his own hands clasped. “And thank you, Lord, for keeping our family safe and blessing us with this home.”

“Amen,” they all murmured in unison before the meal began.

Conversation flowed easily. Wade and Fritz spoke about the latest cattle drive, debating whether they should invest in new fencing before the winter storms arrived. Gennie chimed in, insisting that Wade’s barn needed reinforcing first, while Henry listened intently, occasionally shoving bites of food into his mouth between nods.

“You know,” Gennie said, eyeing Simone between bites, “I saw a letter come for you this morning. Looked like it was from Jefferson City.”

Simone paused, her fork hovering mid-air. “From Jefferson City?”

Wade turned toward her with curiosity. “I didn’t see it.”

“I put it on your writing desk,” Gennie said with a shrug. “Figured you’d get to it when you weren’t chasing after Henry.”

Henry grinned. “Papa’s always chasing after me.”

“That’s because you’re always getting into trouble,” Wade teased, ruffling his son’s curls.

Simone, however, felt a prickle of curiosity. There weren’t many people who would write to her from Jefferson City. The last time she had received a letter from there, it had changed her life—bringing news of an unexpected inheritance from Mrs. Abrams, the woman who had once been her mentor.

She shared a glance with Wade. “I’ll look at it after supper.”

Gennie smirked. “I hope it’s good news.”

Simone nodded, though a strange feeling settled in her chest. After years of fighting for stability, her life had finally reached a peaceful rhythm. Whatever that letter contained, she prayed it wouldn’t disturb the happiness they had built.

As Henry babbled about the story he was writing, Simone forced herself to push aside her unease. No matter what was written on that paper, she had Wade by her side—and together, they had already weathered every storm life had thrown their way.

Later that evening, after Henry had been tucked into bed and the house had fallen into the peaceful hush of night, Simone sat at her writing desk, turning the envelope over in her hands. The wax seal was unbroken, the crisp paper bearing the unmistakable mark of a Jefferson City law office.

Wade stood near the window, arms crossed, watching her with quiet patience. “Are you going to open it, or should I?” he teased, though his voice carried an edge of curiosity.

Simone huffed a small laugh and finally broke the seal. As she unfolded the letter, her eyes skimmed over the neatly penned words. Her breath hitched slightly as she took in the meaning.

“Well?” Wade asked, stepping closer.

Simone exhaled slowly. “It’s from the law office that handled Mrs. Abrams’ estate.” She glanced up at Wade, her gray eyes filled with something unreadable. “It seems she left more behind than we thought.”

Wade leaned in, reading the letter over her shoulder. “A schoolhouse?” he murmured in surprise.

Simone nodded, her mind already racing with possibilities. “Yes. She funded a small schoolhouse in Jefferson City before she passed. But the town has struggled to keep it running. The lawyer is asking if I’d consider overseeing its management or appointing someone to do so.”

Wade studied her expression, recognizing the flicker of something deep in her eyes. “You’re thinking about doing it yourself, aren’t you?”

Simone chewed her lip. “I don’t know. It’s far, Wade. I love our life here. I love our home.” She placed a hand over his, seeking warmth. “But I also know what it’s like to grow up without guidance. Without learning. A school like that could change children’s lives, just as Mrs. Abrams changed mine.”

Wade sat on the edge of the desk, thoughtful. “Then maybe we don’t have to choose.”

She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“We could help from here,” Wade suggested. “Find someone we trust to run it, make sure it stays open. And maybe… maybe you visit once in a while, see that it’s doing what Mrs. Abrams wanted.”

A slow smile spread across Simone’s lips. “You’d support that?”

Wade smirked. “You think I’d ever stop you from doing what’s in your heart?”

Simone chuckled softly. “No. You never have.”

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Then it’s settled. We’ll see what we can do for that schoolhouse. But I have one condition.”

“Oh?” She arched a brow.

His arms wrapped around her waist, drawing her in close. “No matter how many schoolhouses you run, you always come home to me.”

Simone melted against him, her smile widening. “Always,” she whispered.

The crickets chirped outside as the oil lamp flickered on the desk, casting soft shadows around them. Their journey had been long, filled with trials and triumphs alike. But as Simone rested her head against Wade’s chest, she knew with certainty—no matter what came next, their love, their home, and their family would always be the heart of it all.

Together, they had built something lasting. And together, they would face whatever the future held, hand in hand.

THE END