Epilogue
Kathryn
Elk Ridge, one year later...
Mountain laurel petals drift past my window, dancing on the spring breeze. The garden terrace below has been transformed into something magical—white chairs in neat rows, fairy lights strung between trees, and flowers everywhere. So many flowers that Marie joked about running out of vases in three counties.
"Almost ready?" Evie appears in the doorway of the bridal suite, holding a small box. "I have something for you."
"More something borrowed?" I smooth my hands over the simple white dress, which already features Evie's vintage pearl earrings.
"Something remembered." She opens the box to reveal a delicate lavender sprig, preserved and pressed. "Claire—Nolan's mother—wore this at her wedding. She loved what the flower meant, what it stood for."
"Home," I whisper, touching the dried petals gently. "Family."
"Love that blooms even in the mountains." Evie tucks the sprig into my bouquet. "She would have loved you, dear. Almost as much as her son does."
Before I can respond, Sophia bustles in with my veil. "Ten minutes! Are you ready? Have you cried yet? Wait, don't cry—I just finished your makeup."
"I'm not crying." But I blink rapidly anyway. "I'm just..."
"Happy?" Evie's eyes twinkle. "That tends to happen when you find where you belong."
They leave me for a final moment alone, and I turn back to the window. Below, guests are finding their seats. I spot Old Joe in his best suit, Sara arranging what looks like a tower of pastries, Marie making last-minute adjustments to the flower arch where Nolan and I will say our vows.
Nolan.
My heart does that familiar skip it's been doing since he first looked at me like I was something precious instead of something to resist.
A knock at the door reveals Jake, who'll be walking me down the aisle. "Ready to make an honest man out of Mountain Man?"
"Is anyone ever ready for a Callahan?"
"No." He grins. "That's what makes it an adventure."
The ceremony passes in a blur of sensation and emotion. The scent of mountain laurel and wildflowers. The warmth of the spring sun. The sound of coffee shop wind chimes we hung in the trees, their gentle music carrying on the breeze.
But mostly, Nolan.
Nolan, standing tall and handsome in his suit (though I spot his favorite boots beneath). Nolan, whose eyes never leave mine as I walk toward him. Nolan, who looks at me like I'm every wish he ever made coming true at once.
"I didn't write my vows on a wish card," he says when it's time, his voice carrying across the hushed garden. "Though it seemed fitting. Because you, Kathryn Taylor, are the best wish I never knew to make."
I grip his hands tighter, grounding myself in their familiar warmth.
"You came to our town in and somehow you saw straight through every wall I'd built. You believed in magic and community and the power of coffee to bring people together. But mostly, you believed in me. Even when I was too stubborn to believe in myself."
A tear escapes despite Sophia's warnings. Nolan catches it with his thumb.
"I promise to love you through every season. To support your dreams, even when they involve rearranging the Wishing Wall three times in one day. To bring you coffee in bed and kiss you good morning and remind you every day that you are the best thing that's ever happened to me. Even if you never give back my favorite flannel shirt."
Laughter ripples through the crowd. I take a shaky breath, my own vows rising from my heart.
"I came to Elk Ridge looking for a coffee shop to save," I begin. "Instead, I found a home. A community. A love I never expected but can't imagine living without."
His hands tighten on mine.
"You, Nolan Callahan, with your stubborn heart and endless loyalty, taught me that some wishes take time to come true. That the best dreams are the ones we build together. I promise to love you through every challenge, to believe in your vision even when you doubt, and to always stock honey lavender syrup in our kitchen."
"Even though it's not cost effective?" His eyes dance with memory.
"Especially because it's not cost effective." I smile through happy tears. "I promise to be your partner in everything—in business, in family, in life. And I promise to love you more each day, even when you're being impossible. Especially then."
The rest of the ceremony blurs into joy and tears and the perfect moment when Nolan's lips meet mine, sealing our promises with a kiss that tastes like forever.
The crowd cheers. Flower petals shower down from somewhere above. And through it all, Nolan holds me close, his heart beating steady against mine.
The lodge's great room glows like a fairytale, transformed by hundreds of twinkling lights and garlands of mountain laurel. Long wooden tables—handcrafted by Rowan—stretch beneath crystal chandeliers, each setting marked with a wish card for guests to fill out. In the corner, Sara's wedding cake rises like a mountain peak, decorated with sugar flowers and tiny coffee cups.
"Mrs. Callahan?" Nolan's voice is warm in my ear as he pulls out my chair. "Your coffee, made exactly how you like it."
"Already starting the husband duties?" I accept the steaming cup, breathing in the familiar scent of honey and lavender.
"Just the first of many." He presses a kiss to my temple before taking his seat beside me. "Though I draw the line at reorganizing the Wishing Wall at midnight."
"That was one time?—"
The sound of silver against crystal interrupts us as Evie rises for her toast. She looks radiant in blue, every inch the proud matriarch.
"When I first met Kathryn," she begins, "she was trying to save a coffee shop. What she didn't know was that she was about to save something far more precious—a heart that had forgotten how to trust." Her eyes meet mine, warm with affection. "Though I suspect she needed a bit of saving too. We all do, sometimes. That's what family is for."
Nolan's hand finds mine under the table.
"To watch you two find each other, support each other, love each other... it's been the greatest joy of my life since Claire left us." Evie's voice catches. "She would have loved this day. Would have loved seeing her son so happy, so complete. Would have loved you, Kathryn, for bringing that light back to his eyes."
I squeeze Nolan's fingers, feeling him squeeze back.
"To Nolan and Kathryn," Evie raises her glass. "May your love continue to grow like mountain laurel—strong, beautiful, and ever-blooming."
The toasts continue, each one adding another layer to our story. Connor tells about catching us kissing in the supply closet ("Quality control testing!" I protest). Jameson recounts the time Nolan spent three days carving the perfect frame for my birthday present. Even Old Joe stands, thanking us for creating a place where wishes still come true.
When it's time for our first dance, Nolan leads me to the floor with that half-smile that still makes my heart skip. The music starts—soft and sweet, like morning light on mountain peaks.
"Happy?" he murmurs, drawing me close.
"Perfect." I rest my cheek against his chest, feeling his heartbeat strong and steady. "Though you still haven't told me where we're going for our honeymoon."
"Somewhere with terrible coffee." His laugh rumbles through me. "So you'll appreciate coming home even more."
"Impossible man."
"Your impossible man."
Later, when the dancing and laughter have mellowed into quiet joy, we slip out onto the lodge porch. The spring night wraps around us like a blanket, stars scattered above like wishes waiting to fall.
"Remember our first night out here?" Nolan pulls me against him, his arms warm and sure.
"When you were determined not to like me?"
"When I was already falling for you and too stubborn to admit it." He presses a kiss to my hair. "Though in my defense, you were very intimidating with your tablet and your business plans."
"And now?"
"Now you're still intimidating." His smile curves against my temple. "But in the best possible way."
Below us, Elk Ridge twinkles with promise. The Coffee Loft's lights shine steady and bright, a beacon of everything we've built together. Of everything we'll continue to build.
"I love you," I whisper into the quiet. "Even when you're impossible."
"Especially when I'm impossible?"
"Especially then."
We stand together, wrapped in starlight and possibility, as music and laughter drift through the open windows behind us. Inside, our family and friends celebrate our love. Outside, the mountains stand sentinel over our dreams.
Some love stories start with coffee cups and wish cards.
Some begin with misunderstandings and stolen flannel shirts.
But the best ones? They grow like mountain laurel in spring—strong roots, delicate blooms, and the promise of endless seasons stretching before us, each more beautiful than the last.
This is our beginning.
And it feels exactly like coming home.
This is the first story set in Elk Ridge.