Epilogue
Azalea
I stood at the window, watching guests arrive at McCrae’s house. Well, soon to be our house.
White chairs lined the shore in perfect rows, a white runner stretching between them toward a floral arch that framed the water.
The entire town of Refuge Falls seemed to be there, chatting and laughing as they found their seats. Paper lanterns hung from the pine trees, ready to glow when evening fell.
“Nervous?” Kayla asked, appearing beside me in her pale blue bridesmaid dress.
“Not at all.” I shook my head, surprising myself when I realized it was true.
It had been only a month since McCrae proposed. A month of whirlwind planning, of Greg settling into Refuge Falls, of me securing a position as a reporter for the local paper while continuing my podcast.
A month that somehow felt like a lifetime.
“Good,” Kayla said, squeezing my arm. “Because if you left my brother at the altar, I’d have to hunt you down.”
I laughed. “I’d expect nothing less.”
McCrae’s mom moved to my side, staring in the mirror with me. “You’re beautiful. I’m so happy to have you as my daughter soon.”
Warmth filled me and I turned to hug her. “Thank you, for being a mom to me.”
She pulled back, tears in her eyes. “No crying, our makeup.”
We all laughed.
Ella and Isla entered the bedroom, both looking beautiful in matching dresses. All of these women had grown close to me these past weeks while shopping for wedding items, planning the ceremony, and talking late into the night.
“You look stunning,” Ella said, adjusting the simple veil attached to my loose curls.
My wedding dress was an elegant, white gown. It hugged my body before flowing out at the waist, the bodice adorned with delicate lace. I’d found it at a boutique in Denver, and the moment I tried it on, I knew it was the one.
“McCrae’s not going to be able to speak when he sees you,” Isla added.
A knock at the door interrupted us. “Everyone decent?” Greg called out.
Kayla opened the door, revealing my brother in his best suit, his cane polished for the occasion. His recovery had been remarkable, and though he still limped slightly, he’d regained most of his strength.
His eyes widened when he saw me. “Wow, sis,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “You’re beautiful.”
I blinked back tears, determined not to ruin my makeup before the ceremony. “Don’t you dare make me cry, Greg Ryan.”
He grinned, then jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I just came from checking on the groom. His brothers are giving him lots of crap.”
“What are they saying?” I asked, curious.
Greg chuckled. “Never you mind.”
The butterflies in my stomach settled. I knew how much McCrae valued his brothers’ opinions, especially Damon’s.
“What about you?” I asked Greg softly. “Any doubts about your little sister marrying a guy she hasn’t known that long?”
Greg’s face grew serious. “Azalea, I’ve known you your whole life. I’ve seen you go through hell and come out stronger. I’ve watched you chase the truth no matter the cost.” He took my hands in his. “And I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you look at McCrae. Not once.”
I hugged him, careful not to wrinkle my dress. “I love you.”
“Love you too, kid.” He pulled back, checking his watch. “It’s time.”
The women filed out to take their places.
Greg offered me his arm, and I took it, feeling a strange sense of calm descend over me. Whatever doubts others might have, I had none. Not a single one.
We made our way out the side door, where we couldn’t be seen by the guests. McCrae’s mother had outdone herself with the decorations. White fabric draped between trees, creating a magical canopy. Crystal vases caught the late afternoon light, sending prisms dancing across the ground.
The music began, not the traditional wedding march, but a gentle acoustic guitar version of “Can’t Help Falling in Love.” Our choice, simple and perfect.
I watched as the bridesmaids walked down the aisle one by one. Kayla was last, turning to wink at me before taking her place.
Then it was our turn.
Greg tightened his grip on my arm. “Ready?”
I nodded, my heart suddenly racing with excitement rather than nerves.
We stepped onto the red runner, and the guests rose to their feet. I barely noticed them. My eyes went straight to McCrae, standing tall and handsome in his dark suit at the end of the aisle.
This man had found me broken and lost, had helped me piece myself back together, had chosen me despite all the complications and danger that came with me.
The walk seemed both endless and too short. When we reached the altar, Greg placed my hand in McCrae’s; the symbolism of the gesture was not lost on me. “Take care of each other,” he said, his voice carrying to the front rows.
“We will,” McCrae promised, his eyes never leaving mine.
Pastor Jones smiled at us both. I’d been nervous about having Rose’s father perform the ceremony, but he’d been nothing but kind and welcoming from the moment we’d asked him.
“Dearly beloved,” he began, his voice strong and clear. “We are gathered here today in the sight of God and in the face of this company, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony.”
The ceremony was traditional, just as we wanted. We’d written our own vows but chosen to keep the time-honored structure that had joined couples for centuries.
When the time came for those vows, McCrae spoke first, his voice steady despite the emotion that made his eyes shine.
“Azalea, I found you on a rainy night with no memory of who you were. But I think I knew, even then, that you were meant to be part of my life. I promise to stand by you through whatever comes our way. To protect you, though I know full well you can protect yourself.”
This earned a laugh from the crowd.
“To support your passion for the truth, even when it leads us into adventure or danger. To love you fully, completely, all the days of my life.”
I took a deep breath, fighting back happy tears.
“McCrae, you found me when I was lost in every possible way. You gave me shelter, safety, family. But more than that, you saw me—the real me—even before I remembered who that was. I promise to stand strong beside you through every storm. To build a life with you filled with laughter and adventure. To love your family as my own. And to cherish every moment of this unexpected life we’ve found together. ”
Pastor Jones guided us through the exchange of rings. “By the power vested in me,” he said finally, “I now pronounce you husband and wife.” He smiled at McCrae. “You may kiss your bride.”
McCrae’s hands were gentle as he cupped my face, his eyes full of promise as he leaned in.
Our lips met in a kiss that sealed our vows, our future, our hearts.
The crowd erupted in cheers and applause, but I barely heard them.
In that perfect moment, with the lake stretching behind us and the mountains standing witness, I knew with absolute certainty that I would love this man forever, whatever life threw at us next.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Pastor Jones announced as we turned to face our guests, “I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong!”
The reception was a blur of joy; our first dance to a slow country song McCrae had chosen, cutting the three-tiered cake Ella had somehow managed to bake between taking care of her baby and helping with wedding plans, and finally speeches that made me laugh and cry in equal measure.
As night fell, the lanterns glowed among the trees, and lights twinkled everywhere. It transformed the lake house into something from a dream.
We moved among our guests—our family now, all of them—accepting congratulations and well-wishes.
“I’ve never seen a more beautiful ceremony,” McCrae’s mom said, hugging me tight. “You’re officially an Armstrong now, my dear.”
“Thank you for everything,” I whispered. “For taking me in when I had nothing, for loving me like one of your own.”
“You are one of our own,” she replied simply.
Later, I found myself alone with McCrae for a brief moment near the dock. Music and laughter drifted from the party, but here it was peaceful, the water lapping gently at the shore.
“Wife,” he said, testing out the word with a smile.
“Husband,” I replied, loving how right it felt.
He took my hand, his thumb brushing over my wedding band. “Are you happy?”
I looked up at him; my protector, my partner, my love. “Happier than I’ve ever been.”
“No regrets about marrying a man you’ve known for little over a month?” he asked, his tone light but his eyes searching mine.
I shook my head. “I feel like I’ve known you my whole life. Like maybe I was always walking toward you, even when I didn’t know it.”
He pulled me close, resting his forehead against mine. “I love you, Azalea Armstrong.”
My new name. My new life. Yet somehow, it felt like coming home.
“I love you too,” I whispered. “Always.”
He nodded. “Always, because … I did find you and I am responsible for you,” he teased.
I kissed him, grinning. “Yes, you did find me. And now you have to keep me.”
**
Thank you for reading, Found by You!