Epilogue I
Piper
Three Months Later
I'm standing on the deck of Fox Hollow Lodge, watching the sun dip behind the mountains while string lights twinkle overhead like a constellation brought down to earth.
The Pine & Prosecco fundraiser is in full swing.
I've transformed the lodge's main terrace into something that would make my mother's event planner weep with envy.
Round tables draped in ivory linen dot the space, each one crowned with arrangements of pine branches, white roses, and flickering votives.
The silent auction table groans under the weight of donated items: a weekend stay at the lodge, handmade quilts from Linda, a year's worth of pies from Betty, even a 'Romantic Rescue Experience' courtesy of the mountain rescue team.
That donation alone has already got seventeen bids.
The charcuterie towers are a work of art—three tiers of aged cheeses, prosciutto roses, honeycomb dripping with amber sweetness, and fresh figs from the local farm that practically beg to be photographed.
I may have gone slightly overboard, but when you're raising money for the new Stone River Community Clinic, overboard is exactly where you want to be.
"Piper!" Betty nudges me from behind, appearing at my side with eyes suspiciously shiny. "Have you seen the donor board?"
I follow her gaze to the oversized display near the entrance, where names are written in elegant calligraphy beside their contribution amounts. The list is long—longer than I dared hope.
Local businesses, lodge guests, even a few of my former Chicago doctor contacts who I'd emailed on a whim when things in my new business weren't going so well.
"We've already raised forty-two thousand dollars," Betty whispers, pressing a hand to her chest. "Piper, that's... that's more than we raised for the rescue station in the last three years combined."
Pride blooms warm in my chest. "It's what this town deserves."
"It's what you made happen." She squeezes my arm. "You're a miracle worker, honey."
"Nah. It's nothing. I've just been taught how to throw a pretty fancy party." I smooth my dress down, nothing too flashy, just a simple emerald number that hits mid-thigh, paired with my favorite hiking boots.
It's my new look. Iconic, right?
Chase materializes with two glasses of prosecco, looking unfairly gorgeous in dark jeans and a crisp white button-down with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. His hair is slightly tousled, and when he grins at me, my stomach does that stupid flip it's been doing for three months straight.
"Your towers are a hit," he says, handing me a glass. "Travis just proposed to the prosciutto."
"Tell him it's spoken for."
"Too late. I think they're eloping."
Betty laughs and excuses herself to check on the dessert table, leaving Chase and me alone in our little bubble of twinkling lights and mountain air.
"You're amazing," he says, soft enough that only I can hear. "You know that?"
"You may have mentioned it once or twice.
" I take a sip of the local prosecco from the vineyard by Wildflower Meadow, the bubbles dancing on my tongue like an expensive champagne imported from France.
"How's the rescue team holding up? I saw Knox disappear behind the food stall with that woman again. "
Chase's eyes gleam with mischief. "Yeah, about that..."
"Oh no. What did he do?"
"Let's just say if Knox and mystery girl think they're being subtle, they're wrong. Travis caught them making out near the ice sculpture."
"The ice sculpture?!" I sputter into my prosecco. "That thing cost three hundred dollars!"
"Well… now it's melting faster thanks to their body heat." He grins. "Romance is alive and well in Stone River."
Chase smacks my ass and winks at me, and I'm about to respond when a commotion near the auction table catches my attention. A woman in her sixties is swaying on her feet, one hand pressed to her forehead.
Training kicks in before thought does.
"Chase."
But he's already there.
I reach her just as her knees buckle, and Chase catches her smoothly, lowering her into a nearby chair while I kneel beside her.
"Hi there," I say, my voice calm and professional. "I'm Piper. Can you tell me your name?"
"Julie," she manages, her face pale. "I just... got a little dizzy."
"Okay, Julie. Have you had anything to eat tonight?"
"I... no, I came straight from the airport. Wanted to make the auction."
Chase is flagging down a server, who appears with water and a plate of cheese and crackers like magic. I check Julie's pulse. It's steady, but a little fast. Chase crouches beside me, his presence solid and reassuring.
"Pulse is good," I murmur to him. "Probably just low blood sugar."
"Agreed." He turns to Julie with that easy smile that always puts everyone at ease. "Let's get some food in you, yeah? And water. Lots of water."
We work in perfect sync. Me monitoring her vitals while Chase keeps her talking and distracted, making jokes about Travis's prosciutto proposal until she's laughing weakly.
By the time she's nibbling crackers and her color's returning, I'm confident she'll be fine.
"You two are quite the team," she says, looking between us with renewed sparkle in her eyes. "Are you both medical professionals?"
"She is," Chase says, nodding at me with unmistakable pride. "Well, was. Ex-nurse. I just play rescue hero for fun."
"He's a mountain rescue specialist," I correct, squeezing his hand. "He's being modest."
Julie smiles. "Well, thank you both. I feel much better."
"Stay seated for a few more minutes," I instruct. "And keep drinking that water."
Chase and I stand, and that's when I turn around and see the last person I ever expected to see.
My mother.
She's standing near the silent auction table, perfectly coiffed in a dove-gray cashmere suit that totally cost more than the ice sculpture. Her expression is unreadable, but she's watching us with an intensity that makes my stomach clench.
"Shit," I breathe.
Chase follows my gaze and stiffens. "Is that—"
"Yep."
"Do you want me to—"
"No." I squeeze his hand. "Stay with me?"
"Always."
We cross the deck together, and I'm acutely aware of every eye that follows us. The town knows about the gala disaster, about my mother's lifetime of disapproval, about the choice I made to stay in Stone River.
"Mom." I stop a few feet away, chin up, shoulders back. Old habits truly do die hard. "I didn't know you were coming."
"That's because you didn't invite me." Her voice is cool, measured, but still slices through every ounce of personal growth and strength I've built these last three months. "So I invited myself."
"Clearly."
For a long moment, we just stare at each other. Then, to my absolute shock, her mouth curves into something that might—might—be a smile.
"That was impressive," she says. "What you just did with that woman. Very... competent, Piper."
It might just be the closest thing to a compliment I've gotten from her since I graduated kindergarten without eating paste.
"Thank you."
Her gaze shifts to Chase, and I brace for impact. But instead of the disdain I expect, there's something almost curious in her expression.
"Mr. Morrison."
"Mrs. Whitman." Chase's voice is polite as he bows like she's royalty. "Nice to see you again."
"Is it?" She arches one perfectly sculpted brow. "I seem to recall our last encounter involved you stealing my daughter at my charity gala."
"Technically, she came willingly. There was no stealing."
"Technically," my mother agrees, and is that amusement in her tone? "And how has Stone River been treating you both?"
I can only blink in astonishment. This is not the conversation I expected.
Is she… making… small talk?!
"It's been... good," I say carefully. "Really good, actually. I'm working, helping with community outreach, and tonight's fundraiser has already exceeded our goals."
"So I see." She glances at the donor board. "Forty-two thousand dollars. Impressive for a town this size."
"Piper did most of it," Chase adds. "She's got a gift for this stuff."
My mother's gaze returns to me, and for the first time in my life, I see something that looks suspiciously like... respect?
"I can see that." She takes a breath, and when she speaks again, her voice is softer. "I miss you, Piper."
I blink. Twice.
Is this a trap? Did she hit her head on the ice sculpture? Should I call a doctor?!
"I... what?"
"I miss you," she repeats. "Your father asks about you constantly. And I..." She pauses, as if the admission costs her something. "I realize I may have been... less than supportive of your choices."
Lady, you’ve spent thirty years treating me like a limited-edition handbag. Now you’re clingy and considering your choices?!
"Less than supportive?" I echo, incredulous. "Mother, you called Chase a caveman and tried to force me into a marriage with Maxwell Pemberton."
"Yes, well." She has the grace to look slightly abashed. "Maxwell turned out to be rather dull. You dodged a bullet there."
Chase makes a choking sound then disguises it by watching a bird flying in the sky. It would be effective, except it's dark.
"I'll make more of an effort," my mother continues. "To visit. To... understand this life you've chosen. Your father and I are planning a trip next month, if you'll have us."
I'm so stunned I can barely form words. "You want to visit Stone River?"
"Don't sound so shocked, darling. I'm not a complete monster." She turns to Chase, and I swear to God, she smiles. "And you're..." She looks him up and down. "Adequate, I suppose."
Chase blinks. "Adequate?"
"For Piper." My mother reaches out and—oh my God—pats his shoulder. Like he's a golden retriever who's learned a new trick. "You make her happy. That's... adequate."
"Uh. Thanks?"
"Mother," I say, fighting the urge to laugh. "That's possibly the worst compliment I've ever heard."
"It's the best I can do on short notice." She straightens her suit jacket. "Now, I should mingle. I noticed several items on the auction table that might benefit from a competitive bid."
She glides away, leaving Chase and me staring after her in bewilderment.
"Did that just happen?" I ask.
"I think your mom just called me adequate."
"She patted your shoulder."
"I'm a Labrador!"
"An adequate Labrador."
We look at each other and burst into laughter, the kind that shakes your whole body. When we finally calm down, Chase pulls me close, pressing a kiss to my temple.
"Come on," he murmurs. "Dance with me."
"The band hasn't even started yet."
"Something tells me that tonight… we don't need a band."
With a sudden skip in his step, he leads me to the far end of the deck. The crowd thins and the view opens up to endless mountains. Someone's phone is playing music, and Chase pulls me into his arms like we've done this a thousand times.
We sway together, my head on his chest, his chin resting on my hair. The prosecco hums warm in my veins, and the night air smells like pine trees.
"Your mom's trying," he says after a while.
"I know. It's terrifying."
"She'll come around. They always do when they see how happy you are."
"And am I?" I tilt my head back to look at him. "Happy?"
"You tell me, Chicago."
I wrinkle my nose. "Maybe I will be when you finally retire that nickname."
"Never." He grins. "You're my Chicago girl who chose the mountains. My fancy nurse who wears hiking boots to fundraisers. My—"
"Your what?"
His expression shifts, going soft and serious in a way that makes my heart stutter.
"My everything," he says quietly. "My home. My forever Friday."
"Chase..."
"Marry me."
The world stops. Because—
"What?"
"Marry me, Piper." He's not kneeling, not fumbling for a ring, just holding me close and looking at me like I'm the answer to every question he's ever asked.
"I know it's fast, and I know your mom just called me adequate, and I know I should probably have a better plan than proposing on a deck in front of half the town, but I don't care.
I love you. I want every day with you. I want to wake up next to you and argue about coffee and watch you boss people around at fundraisers.
I want to build a life here, together. So. .. marry me?"
My eyes are burning, and my throat is tight, and I'm pretty sure I'm about to cry in front of everyone.
"You're serious."
"Dead serious."
"You don't even have a ring."
"I'll get you ten gummy rings. A hundred. But you'll have to wait until next month when Lily sends the next shipment." His hands cup my face, thumbs brushing away the tears that are definitely falling now. "Just say yes."
And suddenly, it's the easiest decision I've ever made.
"Yes."
His smile could light up the entire mountain.
"Yeah?"
"Yes, you ridiculous man. Yes, I'll marry you."
He kisses me then, deep and sweet and full of promise, and somewhere in the background I hear cheering.
Betty's crying. Travis is whooping. My mother is probably having a minor stroke, but I don't care because Chase Morrison—my adequate mountain man, my rescue hero, my home—just proposed to me at a fundraiser, and I said yes.
"Forever Friday just got a whole lot more permanent," he says.
"Good." I kiss him again, tasting prosecco and the future we're going to build together. "I wouldn't have it any other way."