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A Dream Come True

There’s a kind of peace here that I can’t quite put into words. Maybe it’s the way the morning mist rolls lazily over the Blue Ridge Mountains, or how the land stretches endlessly, unbothered and free. Maybe it’s the warmth of the sun rising over the valley, painting everything gold. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s the woman sitting on the porch swing, naked, coffee in hand, looking at me like I’m the only thing that matters in this world.

McQ Ridge Ranch has been home for the past years, but now it feels whole. Land like this doesn’t just belong to a man; a man belongs to the land. But only if there's a woman by his side. Now, it’s ours.

Roz and I have been settling in, making this place something real again. The barn doors have been fixed, the porch got a fresh coat of paint, and we’ve already started talking about the cattle we’ll bring in. Angus, maybe. Good, strong stock. It’s a lot of work, but damn if it doesn’t feel good.

I’ve seen some beautiful sights in my time: mountains touching the sky, rivers so clear you could see the stones at the bottom, sunsets that could steal your breath. But nothing compares to waking up with Roz curled against me, her hair tangled from sleep, her soft breathing the first sound I hear.

There’s a kind of magic in choosing your own path, in standing on a piece of land and saying, This is mine. This is ours. We could’ve gone anywhere, done anything, but we chose this. The quiet mornings, the honest work, the long nights wrapped up in each other.

McQ Ridge Ranch isn’t just a place. It’s a beginning. It’s home. And as long as Roz is here, I’ll never need anything else.