"Make this place what it should be, a real home. Together, there was vulnerability in Rose's voice. A question about more than just the ranch. " together," Jake confirmed, pressing a kiss to her hair. Margaret smiled, the expression transforming her face. "Good, because I've been thinking about expanding the horse operation.
With Morrison's land being broken up and sold, we could buy the water rights, bring in better breeding stock. Already planning," Rose laughed. "Some things never change. Some things shouldn't," Jake said, looking at each of them. His family tested by fire and stronger for it.
In town, Harrison Morrison sat in his cell, awaiting the hangman. His empire was crumbling, his victims finding their voices at last. Justice, so long delayed, had finally arrived. But at the Sullivan Ranch, they weren't thinking about Morrison anymore. They were thinking about the future.
About the horses Rose would train, the students Catherine would teach. the home Margaret would help build about the life they'd create together from the ashes of their pain. The night wind whispered across the desert, carrying away the last echoes of fear and violence. In its place it brought the promise of new beginnings, of love strong enough to overcome any darkness. They were home. They were family.
And that was enough. The sun was setting over Milfield as they gathered in the dusty main street. Half the town had turned out, some from morbid curiosity, others seeking closure for years of fear and oppression. Jake stood with the sisters near the courthouse, watching as the gallows platform loomed against the orange sky. Harrison Morrison was brought out in chains.
But even now, facing death, his arrogance remained. His eyes swept the crowd with contempt until they found the sisters. The hatred that blazed there made Catherine step closer to Margaret. Any last words? Sheriff Thompson asked formally.
Morrison's lips curled. This town will regret this day. You think you've won something? You've destroyed the very man who built this place. You built nothing.
Rose called out, her voice carrying clearly. You stole. You murdered. You terrorized. The only thing you built was fear.
Morrison's face contorted. But before he could respond, the hood was pulled over his head. Jake felt Rose's hand slip into his. Margaret and Catherine pressing close on his other side. When the trap door opened and Morrison fell, a collective sigh seemed to run through the crowd.
It was over. Truly over. The crowd dispersed slowly. People talking in small groups, some weeping, others embracing. Years of oppression didn't end easily, but the healing could finally begin.
Let's go home, Jake said quietly. The ride back to the ranch was subdued. Justice had been served, but watching a man die, even a man like Morrison left its mark. They were almost to the gate when Catherine suddenly said, "I don't feel free yet. Is that wrong? " "No," Margaret assured her.