I spend my last week of suspension working at the ranch, getting things ready with continued help from Shane and Travis… and David and Riley.

Every day, David's gotten up at a ridiculous hour—I should know, I've been lying beside him when he's stumbled out of bed—just to get his day started extra early. He takes Riley to school, we spend a little time together, and then he finishes his work while I head to the ranch. Usually he comes over around noon, puts in a couple hours' work, grabs Riley, and the two of them come back to help until dinner.

Sometimes "helping" is just offering moral support, especially in Riley's case. She spends a lot of time texting Julie, giving us a thumbs up while we're working. But having everyone here makes it feel like this is something we're doing together. One big, crazy family.

Emphasis on the crazy, because that weekend we decide to hold a test run. I invite some parents I have a good rapport with, along with Principal Vasquez and Lydia, the woman from the school board who said she thought the idea had merit.

I'm not expecting anything, but the donors who backed this place will really appreciate us recording an actual session—even if it is with parents this time around, and not kids.

Saturday morning, the five of us get there bright and early to make sure the horses are fed, watered, exercised, and brushed down before their big debut. Last weekend Shane and I went down to Lexington and bought three new horses, bringing the ranch's total to nine, not counting Shane's racehorse, Apollo.

The two instructors we hired show up around eight, and cars start coming in around nine as the first parents arrive. We get everybody fitted for safety gear and teach them how to use it, then give them a crash course in horse etiquette and proper dressing of tack before they even so much as mount up. It's rigorous, and it eats up a good portion of a clear, beautiful day, but it's necessary.

Riley goes around with a camera, filming the highlights for our backers, and as something we can have cut into a promotional video sometime down the road. Once the riders are mounted, she films them heading off, then passes the camera to me. She and David stay behind to man the fort, since we don't have enough horses yet for everyone to ride.

The newly marked trail, deemed horse and hiker safe by two different guides, goes over really well with our guests. They take in the sights of the Kentucky foothills and enjoy the ride, getting a chance to stop at our usual lunch spot to talk and rest. We head back not too long after that, and all I can hear is positive chatter throughout the curated half hour trek to the ranch.

David and Riley are waiting to greet us, and David gives me a bright, encouraging smile, helping me off Domino. I give his hand a squeeze, whisper a "thank you," and turn to address the others.

"So that's the basic trail. We're hoping to add more in the future for intermediate and advanced riders, as well as more horses and more staff. Every one of us is going to be trained to give instruction as well as first aid, so your kids will be completely safe here."

Some of the parents ask questions, but most just remark on what a good time they had. As the small crowd begins to disperse, Lydia comes up to me, all smiles.

"This really is a great program, Mr. Morrison. I only wish I could convince the school board to support it."

"We've done all right so far," I say with a smile. A genuine one this time, not the canned expression I wore the last time I saw her. "Maybe it'll never be an official after-school program, but I'm proud of what we've built here."

"You should be," she says, touching my arm in a gesture of support. "I'd be thrilled if my daughter spent her time here."

"I'm sure we can make that happen," I say with a grin.

I offer to walk her to her car, with Shane, Travis, and David doing the same for the others. Gravel crunches underneath tires, the parents head out in a caravan, and I let out a deep sigh of relief.

"You did it," David says, pulling me into a hug. "Everyone had a great time. The two ladies I walked to their car couldn't stop talking about it."

David's genuinely excited for me, and it warms me through even as the rest of me starts to catch a chill from being outside way too long.

This is what I've been missing. Looping my arms about his neck, I pull him in for a grateful kiss.

"We did it. You and Riley helped so much this week. There's no way we would've been able to have this test run without you."

"Hey, I enjoyed it. Totally worth getting up at four every day for a week straight."

I grin at him, taking in the sight of his weary face. Bags under his eyes, a few more lines etched into his face. I think I even spot a few new gray hairs, though I'm not about to bring those up.

"I'll make it up to you," I promise, going in for another kiss.

* * *

Later that day, once the horses are put up and everybody's warmed themselves around the fireplace, Shane calls an impromptu meeting. It comes as a surprise to everyone but Travis, and I look at my brother with suspicion.

Travis—who is an awful liar, by the way—is grinning ear to ear.

"What's this about?" I ask, sitting with David and Riley on one of the couches.

Shane looks to Travis, who smiles encouragingly up at him. "Well, we've been talking about it, and we want to add your name to the deed."

I blink at that, not exactly sure I heard him right. "What? The deed to this place?"

"No, to the beach house we have in the Cancun that we haven't told you about," Travis says, rolling his eyes. "Yes, to this place."

"You're the big-time football player," I shoot back. "How am I supposed to know you don't have another house somewhere?"

"Ex big-time football player," he says, flashing me a grin.

"Okay. Morrisons. Little focus here," Shane says, snapping his fingers like we're two disobedient puppies.

"Seriously, you're drawing this out way too long," Riley moans.

David nudges her in the side.

"We want you to have co-ownership of this place so that everything'll run smoothly with the program. That way, when Trav and I are traveling for a race or something, you'll have complete control."

"I… don't know what to say."

This ranch means everything to Shane. He's spent years building it up, making it what it is. The fact that he trusts me with it is a huge honor.

"Thank you, Shane."

He nods, smiling. But apparently he isn't done yet, because his gaze settles on David. "You too."

David looks around, as if Shane could be talking to anyone else. "Me?"

"I'd like to put your name on the deed, too. If Trav and I ever leave Glen Springs, you two should be able to make it a home. And this way, it'll pass to Riley once all of us are gone."

"Whoa, what?" Riley asks. "I get a ranch? Sweet!"

"Don't start planning our demise just yet, kid," David says. I can tell he's still in shock. He's got this look on his face like he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. "I get why you'd put Jake's name on it, but why me?"

"Jake's like family to me. He will be family before too long," he says, holding up his hand, complete with engagement ring. "And you two are Jake's family. Makes all the sense in the world, as far as I’m concerned."

David looks at me, and an adoring smile settles onto his features. For a moment, I can tell the only thing he sees in the world is me and the future we could have together. The future we will have together. Working here, taking care of things, maybe even living here someday, with Riley dropping into visit whenever she likes, or even staying there herself.

It's not the way I pictured my life working out, but I can't think of anything more perfect. The corner of my lips tug further upward, and I give David a final nod.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think that would be great," he says.

And when we gather around the kitchen table and sign the paperwork, it feels like we're signing something permanent. A lasting document that ties us together even more than a marriage certificate would.

When I put my signature to that deed, I know that no matter what happens, I'll always have a home. A home filled with people I love who love me in return.

No matter what.