Epilogue
Sunlight painted the mountaintop in a palette of molten gold and crimson. One year since my first disastrous trek up this mountain, my quads barely burned as I followed Noah along the familiar trail, the strength in my legs a physical reminder of how much had changed.
“Almost there,” Noah called over his shoulder, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that half-smile that still made my heart beat just a bit faster.
“You said that twenty minutes ago.” I jabbed a finger into his ribs as I caught up. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed that suspiciously heavy backpack. If there aren’t muffins in there, I’m going back to LA without you this time. Leave you in the woods with all the meese by yourself.”
Noah’s laugh echoed against the mountainside. “Always the drama queen.”
We crested the final ridge, and there it stood, the lightning tree, its trunk twisted and split. It looked exactly the same as we’d left it.
Noah dropped to one knee …
ha
… and began unpacking what could only be described as a five-star picnic. Fresh sourdough from the local bakery, Mrs. Miller’s special reserve cheeses that never made it to her market stall, and the pièce de résistance, huckleberry muffins, still warm and fragrant.
“You remembered.” I snatched one immediately, the buttery deliciousness melting on my tongue, the burst of wild berries still as surprising as that first Dawn Patrol breakfast.
“Hard to forget when you complained about being hungry or tired every five minutes that day.” Noah’s eyes sparked.
“I did not! It was every ten minutes at most.”
He pulled out two ceramic mugs and poured something that definitely wasn’t coffee. The liquid caught the light, shimmering golden in the waning glow of sunset.
“Is that the same champagne from our cabin adventure?” I accepted the cup, breathing in the mineral bouquet.
“Maya helped me track down a bottle.” Noah settled beside me on the blanket, his shoulder warm against mine. “Though personally, I still think whiskey pairs better with huckleberry.”
“Such a purist.” I took a sip, letting the champagne and the moment wash over me.
Below us, the valley stretched like a patchwork quilt of forest and meadow, shadows gradually claiming the landscape as the sun sank lower. A red-tailed hawk circled, effortlessly soaring without a single wingbeat. The breeze carried the scent of pine and wildflowers.
“This is perfect,” I said, leaning into Noah’s solid warmth.
His arm slid around me, gentle hand resting on my hip. “Better than Victoria’s infinity pools and diamond dust facials?”
“So much better.” I broke off another chunk of muffin. “Though I still maintain these would sell for ten dollars each in LA. Twenty if we ask Parker to do an endorsement. You know, his follower count is now higher than mine.”
Noah snorted. “I’ll stick to my mountain prices, thanks.”
The past year had been like living in a fever dream, except the calluses on my hands and the firm curves of my leg muscles proved it had all been real. From social media darling to eco-adventure entrepreneur, from city girl to mountain woman. I finally realized that not just one thing defined me.
“Remember when you made me climb that tree to rescue the osprey?”
“You mean when you couldn’t stop staring at my abs instead of focusing on the rescue?”
“I was perfectly focused on the mission.” My cheeks blushed at the memory. “That bird made a full recovery, by the way. Dr. Martinez spotted her nesting with a mate last spring.”
Noah’s thumb traced lazy circles on my palm as we watched alpenglow paint the peaks in rose and violet.
What a year it had been, turning Victoria’s “curated authenticity” concept into something genuine instead. Our Authentic Adventures network now spanned four wilderness regions, with more to come.
Diego’s Everglades Center had taken off like crazy, his swamp tours and airboat safaris booked solid months in advance. The photos he sent last week, of him leading a nighttime expedition, headlamp illuminating the ruby-red eye shine of alligators, had sparked another wave of bookings.
“Did you see Jenn’s latest update from Kodiak?” I asked, thinking of our friend and partner who’d led the charge in Alaska. “Three coastal brown bears in one frame, and not through a telephoto lens.”
“Speaking of updates,” Noah said, “Brie called again this morning from Costa Rica.”
“How’s the coffee farm adventure going?”
Noah shook his head, suppressing a smile. “That girl’s determined to revolutionize sustainable coffee production single-handedly. Though between you and me, I think she’s more interested in the farmer than the farming.”
“I knew there was a reason she kept extending her ‘research trip.’” I made air quotes with my fingers.
“Who would’ve thought our authentic Colorado adventures would evolve into this?” I gestured at the wild landscape around us.
Dark clouds rolled over the distant peaks, and a cool breeze ruffled my hair, carrying the electric scent of approaching rain.
“We should probably head back soon,” I said, eyeing the storm front.
“Those clouds look mean, and I’m still traumatized after dodging all those lightning bolts the last time we were up here. ”
Noah’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he stood up. “Just need to do one more thing before we go. Yeti! Come here, girl!”
Our wolf-dog lounged in a patch of wildflowers a few yards away, pretending not to hear. Something metallic glinted on her collar, a carabiner that definitely hadn’t been there when we started our hike.
“Yeti, come!” Noah’s voice took on that authoritative tone he used with tourists who wandered too close to a cliff.
Yeti rolled onto her back, exposing her belly to the sky, the very picture of canine insubordination.
“Yeti! Come!” Noah tried again.
The wolf-dog stretched lazily, her gaping yawn showing off a mouth full of teeth.
“For heaven’s sake,” Noah muttered. “You’re messing up my surprise!”
“Surprise?” My heart rate kicked up a notch.
Finally, with theatrical reluctance, Yeti trotted over and dropped her massive head in my lap, completely ignoring Noah’s commands.
I bit back a laugh. “Yeti, sit.”
She immediately planted her furry bottom on the ground, fixing me with those ice-blue eyes.
“Lie down,” I said.
Yeti flopped onto her side, still watching me adoringly, while Noah threw his hands up in exasperation. “At what point did she become the boss?” he asked the dog. “After all these years, this is how you repay me?”
“What’s that on her collar?” I reached for the metal glint, but Yeti rolled away, tail wagging in excitement.
“Come here, you furry menace.” I grabbed her collar, and my breath caught in my throat. A ring dangled from the carabiner, delicate yet rugged, with tiny mountains etched into the silver band.
My heart hammered in my chest as I turned around. Noah knelt in the wildflowers, his usual confident smirk replaced by a raw vulnerability that made my chest ache.
“Sam.” His voice cracked on my name. “You changed everything. My life. This place.” He shot Yeti a wry look. “Even my dog’s loyalty, apparently.”
The setting sun gilded his features, highlighting the laugh lines I’d grown to love, the tiny scar above his eyebrow, the slight curl of dark hair at his temple where it was getting too long.
“I thought I had it all figured out up here in my mountains, but you showed me what was missing.” Noah swallowed hard. “You’re the adventure I never knew I needed. Will you marry me?”
“Yes.” The word burst out before he finished asking. “Of course, yes!” Tears blurred my vision.
I stepped forward to kiss him, but Yeti wedged between us, nearly knocking Noah backwards. The dog’s tail whipped back and forth like a furry windshield wiper as she covered Noah’s face in slobbery kisses.
“Down!” Noah commanded, laughing. “Let me kiss my fiancée!”
Yeti ignored him, continuing her enthusiastic face-washing.
I grabbed Noah’s hand and pulled him up. “Come here.”
Before Yeti could intervene again, I pressed my lips to Noah’s. His arms wrapped around me, lifting me off my feet as he deepened the kiss. The taste of huckleberries and champagne mingled on our tongues as the first wet raindrops fell.
“You taste like dog slobber,” I murmured against his mouth.
“Does that mean you’re changing your mind?”
“Never.” I pressed my forehead to his as rain pattered around us. “But we’d better get moving before this storm hits full force. I’ve already had my ‘trapped in a cabin with Noah Barrett’ adventure.”
“That’s a shame.” Noah’s fingers tangled with mine as he slipped the ring onto my finger. “I was rather hoping for a sequel. Except this time, maybe we can share the bed.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “You’d better take that up with her.” I nodded my head toward Yeti.
The heavens opened above us, but neither of us moved to pack up. Some adventures were worth getting soaked for.
Behind us, Yeti barked joyfully at the sky, as if claiming credit for bringing us together. And maybe she deserved it. She did save me from that moose, after all.
Noah’s lips found mine again as lightning flashed across the valley, illuminating the beginning of our greatest adventure yet.