28. Epilogue
Epilogue
Molly
Six Months Later
I'm standing at the edge of Wildflower Meadow in a stunning wedding dress… and I've never felt more beautiful in my entire life.
"Oh honey," Sienna breathes beside me, adjusting the train of my dress for the hundredth time. "You look absolutely stunning."
The meadow around us has been transformed into something that would make Disney's set designers weep with envy.
White silk drapes billow and dance between towering pines.
Thousands of string lights, hung with painstaking precision by Beau and his groomsmen yesterday while I was banned from peeking, twinkle overhead like stars that decided heaven wasn't as pretty as our mountain top wedding venue.
The aisle I'll soon walk down is lined with arrangements of wildflowers in every shade of violet, peach, and cream, artfully designed to look as though they sprouted from the earth this morning purely to celebrate our love.
The familiar smell of fresh pine mingles with the sweet perfume of lilacs and roses, creating an intoxicating fragrance that's better than any overpriced department store perfume.
I catch my reflection in the antique mirror Linda from the general store insisted on bringing 'just in case'.
I'm glad she did.
My dress is a masterpiece.
Glorious layers of ivory silk that flows like water, with delicate lace sleeves that make my shoulders look elegant. The bodice fits like Etta and Mabel painted it on when they took my measurements, and the entire dress drops and pools around me in waves of pure romance.
But it's not just the dress.
It's the way I feel wearing it.
Back with Riley, the small amount of wedding planning we did before I left him felt like performing in someone else's play. Everything was about being perfect for the photos, impressive for his colleagues, a reflection of his success rather than a celebration of our love.
Today is nothing like that.
This?
This feels like a fairytale.
"Places, everyone!" Betty calls out, appearing in a flurry of sage green silk and nervous energy. As my unofficial wedding coordinator, she's been running on pure adrenaline and coffee for the past week. "Molly, you ready, sweetheart?"
I nod, though my heart is hammering against my ribs.
Not from nerves about marrying Beau—that's the easiest decision I've ever made.
But from the knowledge that in about five minutes, I'm going to see him standing at the altar, probably looking like every fantasy I've ever had about the perfect man.
"Remember," Etta calls from her position near the flower arrangements, "when the music starts, you walk slow. Let people see that dress!"
"And don't forget to smile!" Mabel adds, practically bouncing with excitement.
Maisie appears in a cloud of pale pink tulle, clutching her flower basket like it contains the crown jewels.
"Aunt Molly!" She squeaks with hearts for eyes. "You look like a princess! A real one!"
"You look pretty beautiful yourself, sunshine," I tell her, straightening the flower crown that took Sienna an hour to perfect. "Ready to show everyone how it's done?"
"I've been practicing!" she announces proudly. "Watch!"
She demonstrates her flower-scattering technique, sending rose petals flying in every direction. But I'm soon distracted by the string quartet starting the processional with their first perfectly strung notes, and my stomach does a little flip.
"That's our cue," Sienna says, giving me one last hug. "I love you, Mol. You deserve every bit of happiness coming your way."
I watch as she glides down the aisle in her maid of honor dress, followed by Maisie, who takes her flower girl duties so seriously she's practically marching in formation.
Then the music changes to the wedding march, and suddenly it's time.
I step into view, and the collective gasp from our guests makes my cheeks warm.
I scan the faces that have become my family. Betty dabs her eyes with a handkerchief, nudging me forward.
Charlie from the tavern nods approvingly as I see Linda mouth " gorgeous " from the third row. Even Sheriff Cooper looks misty-eyed beneath his usual stoicism.
Six months ago, I was running from my life. Now I'm running toward it.
Stone River Mountain isn't just where I landed when my car broke down.
It's where I finally found myself.
And there at the end of the aisle stands Beau.
My mountain man, my rescuer, my home. His eyes lock onto mine with such intensity that everything else blurs away.
He looks devastatingly handsome in his suit, a single tear tracking down his cheek. His dark hair is perfectly styled, his beard trimmed and combed, and when his steel-gray eyes meet mine, his entire face transforms.
The man who barely smiled when I first met him is now grinning.
And the sight is even more beautiful than my dress.
I start down the aisle, and with every step, I fall in love with him all over again. The way he's standing so straight and proud. The way his hands are clasped behind his back like he's fighting not to reach for me. The way he's staring at me like I'm the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
Halfway down the aisle, I catch Jamie wiping his eyes, and our colleagues from Mountain Rescue all giving Beau an enthusiastic thumbs up.
The entire town is here, dressed in their finest, beaming with the kind of genuine joy you can't fake.
When I reach the altar, Beau steps forward and takes my hands, and I swear I can feel the electricity between us even through my silk gloves.
"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear.
"You clean up pretty nice yourself," I whisper back, making him chuckle.
Pastor Williams clears his throat, smiling warmly at both of us. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the union of Molly Jennings and Beau Callahan, two souls who found their way to each other against all odds..."
The ceremony passes in a blur of perfect moments.
Beau's voice is steady and sure as he recites his vows, promising to love and protect me for the rest of his life. When it's my turn, I can barely speak through my tears, but somehow I manage to tell him that he's my home, my heart, my everything.
"And with your eternal vows complete, I now pronounce you husband and wife," Pastor Williams announces. "Beau, you may kiss your bride."
"Mrs. Callahan," he murmurs, like he's testing how it sounds.
A deep, satisfied grunt rumbles from his chest, and he grins.
It's not his usual barely-there smile, but a broad, devastating grin that makes my heart skip several beats. He takes a moment just to look at me, his steel-gray eyes drinking in every detail of my face in his hands.
"I like the sound of that," I breathe, catching the glint of my new sparkling wedding ring as my hand finds his chest.
"So do I, baby. So fucking much."
And then… he kisses me.
It's not soft and sweet, but deep and claiming and absolutely wonderful. The kind of kiss that makes our guests cheer louder and makes me forget we have an audience at all.
The reception is held right here in the meadow beneath the mountain peaks.
The space is transformed once again with more lights, elegant tables draped in luxurious linens, and a dance floor that Jamie's Mountain Rescue crew built specially for tonight.
Betty has outdone herself with the catering. There are dozens of elegant silver chafing dishes displaying everything from herb-crusted lamb that melts in your mouth, to delicate salmon canapés that look like tiny works of art.
Her famous dinner rolls sit in woven baskets beside artisanal butter sculpted into cute little roses, and the dessert table is a masterpiece of French pastries and chocolate confections that rival anything from the finest patisseries.
An endless stream of champagne flows all night like water from crystal fountains, catching the string lights like liquid gold.
"Speech! Speech!" Jamie Striker hollers, raising his beer high enough to slosh foam everywhere.
"Oh God, no," Beau mutters under his breath, making me snort with laughter.
"YEAH!" Jamie continues, moving to stand on his chair and pump his fist in the air. "SPEECH! SPEECH!"
"SPEECH! SPEECH!"
The entire crowd picks up the chant, and I watch my new husband's face cycle through pure panic, resignation, and finally determination.
He stands reluctantly, his hand gripping mine like I'm his lifeline. "Alright, alright! Shit. You people are relentless."
"Language!" Betty calls out automatically, which gets a huge laugh.
"Right. Sorry, Betty."
Beau clears his throat, his free hand running through his perfectly styled hair and messing it up completely.
"So... speeches, huh?" He scrubs a hand down his face again. "I'd rather wrestle a bear, but apparently that's not an option."
More laughter ripples through the crowd.
"Most of you know I'm not exactly... chatty," he continues, which earns him some good-natured heckling from the Mountain Rescue guys.
"But this woman—" He looks down at me, his expression going soft and wondering.
"This gorgeous, stubborn, city-girl-turned-mountain-perfect woman convinced me to join civilization again. "
"Hey!" I protest, swatting his arm.
"It's a compliment, baby," he grins, then turns back to our guests.
"A year ago, I was perfectly content being a grumpy hermit.
Then Molly showed up with a dead car, completely inappropriate shoes, and the audacity to order some pretentious coffee thing that made Betty question everything she believed about beverages. "
"It was normal where I came from!" I defend, while Betty throws her napkin at me.
"Whatever the hell that was," Beau continues, "the point is, she crashed into my life like a beautiful disaster and suddenly I remembered what it felt like to actually live instead of just... existing."
His voice gets rougher, more honest and the entire town listens to every word.