Epilogue
Ben
Juniper Falls, two years later…
The new visitor center buzzes with life. Eager voices bounce off timber walls, children press faces against wildlife viewing windows, and the constant click of Natalie's camera captures it all. She stands near her favorite display—a wall-sized photo of the eagle's release, caught in the moment she spread her wings against the dawn sky. Two years later, and that image still takes my breath away.
Not as much as watching Natalie does, though.
She's in her element, showing a group of wide-eyed kids the interactive wildlife tracking exhibit. Her enthusiasm is contagious as she demonstrates how to identify different animal prints, her engagement ring catching the light as she gestures.
"And who can tell me what kind of animal made these tracks?"
"Deer!" A little girl with braids bounces on her toes. "Like the ones we saw on the walking trail!"
Natalie's smile could power the whole town. "That's right! And what did we learn about deer on the trail?"
I lean against the doorframe, content to watch. Who would have thought I'd end up here? Not just accepting the visitor center, but proud of what we've created—a space that teaches respect for the wild while protecting what makes it special.
"Quite a change from the guy who said the preserve didn't need improvements." Natalie appears at my side, sliding an arm around my waist.
"I was dragged into it kicking and screaming," I admit, pulling her closer. "By this stubborn photographer who wouldn't take no for an answer."
"Funny, that's not how I remember it." She rises on tiptoes to kiss my cheek. "Pretty sure you came chasing after me with illegal wildflowers."
"Shhh. I have a reputation to maintain."
"Too late." She nods toward where Hazel is leading another tour group. "I think that ship sailed when you cried at our wedding."
"It was allergies."
"Of course it was."
The main doors open, bringing a fresh wave of visitors. Grace Lawson, the town librarian, enters carrying a stack of nature guides. Her auburn hair is escaping its usual neat bun, and she looks slightly frazzled.
"Sorry I'm late." She sets the books on the information desk. "The library's roof is leaking and I can't find a contractor willing to take on such a small project."
"What about Nathan?" The words leave my mouth before I think them through. "Cole," I clarify. "He did great work on our trail markers, and he's branching out into renovation work."
"Nathan Cole?" Grace's tone carries a hint of skepticism. "Isn't he more of a handyman?"
"Licensed contractor now, actually." The man in question appears behind her, trademark easy smile in place. "Though I do enjoy being underestimated. Keeps life interesting."
Grace turns, and something flickers across her face—surprise, maybe, or interest quickly masked. "Mr. Cole. I didn't realize..."
"That I clean up so well?" He grins, gesturing to his button-down shirt. "Special occasion. Though most book people prefer the rugged look, in my experience."
"Most 'book people' prefer competence to charm." But there's a spark in Grace's eyes that contradicts her cool tone.
"Lucky for you, I've got both." Nathan doesn't miss a beat. "Want to discuss those renovation plans over coffee? I promise to use my inside voice."
Something that might be a smile tugs at Grace's lips. "I suppose that would work."
Natalie elbows me gently. "Should we warn him that librarians are harder to win over than park rangers?"
"I don't know." I watch Nathan hold the door for Grace, noting how her expression softens when he isn't looking. "Sometimes the toughest nuts to crack are worth the effort."
The afternoon light fills the center with golden warmth as families explore the exhibits, children press their faces against the wildlife viewing windows, and our community embraces this piece of wilderness we've invited them to understand.
"Hey." Natalie draws my attention back to her. "What are you thinking about?"
I pull her closer, remembering sunrise kisses and injured eagles and all the moments that led us here. "How grateful I am that some stubborn photographer wouldn't take no for an answer."
"Mmm." She leans into me. "Grateful that some grumpy ranger learned to let love in?"
"That too." I drop a kiss on her crown. Through the windows, I can see the preserve stretching toward the horizon—wild and perfect and shared, exactly as it should be. "Though I'm still not admitting to crying at the wedding."
Her laugh echoes through our center, our home, our perfectly imperfect happily ever after. And somewhere in the distance, an eagle cries out—fierce and free and exactly where she belongs.
Just like us.
Thanks for reading Dandelion Dreams. Don’t miss the other books in the series. Next up is Firefly Nights, Grace and Nathan’s story.