37. Epilogue
Epilogue
Summer
Three months later
The barn is quiet this morning, except for the old radio Earl always has playing low. It’s Johnny Cash today. Winter’s the slow season for fresh flowers, but apparently not for wedding planning, as evidenced by the twenty unanswered emails about booking the venue, currently sitting in my inbox.
Jaxon leans in the barn doorway, hands in his coat pockets. “What time are you going to your mom’s?”
“You want to go to Golden Haven?”
“Yeah. It’s Saturday, right?”
There’s no more Saturday farmers market because of the cold, and no flowers growing anywhere on Lucky Chance until spring returns and the daffodils I planted begin to bloom.
Most of my orders involve trips into Lexington instead of cutting them fresh from the field, though I always keep a few bouquets on hand.
“Jaxon, she doesn’t remember much these days,” I remind him. Mom hasn’t remembered my name since the day when I told her I was in love with him.
“I know,” he says. “But I’d like to talk with her about something today.”
I wait for him to tell me what, but he presses his lips together.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”
“And can I pick out the flowers?”
“Sure. But…”
“I know,” he cuts me off. “Wildflowers are her favorite.”
The memory care facility is quiet when we arrive. I sign us in and lead him down the hall, knocking softly before I push the door open.
Mom’s in bed, looking out the window, eyes foggy as she stares into the distance. She looks smaller than I remember, but there’s something in her face that’s still recognizable: the same curve of her lips, the same softness to her eyes.
“Hey, Mom.”
Her eyes drift to my face.
“I brought a visitor again today.” I step aside so she can see him. “This is Jaxon.”
Her brow creases. “Jaxon?”
He’s not awkward about approaching the bed, just steps forward and hands her the bouquet.
“It’s nice to see you again,” he says, sitting by her bedside like I usually do.
She takes the wildflowers, her eyes closing for just a second as she breathes them in.
“These are my favorites,” she says.
I shoot him a look. Same thing, every time.
“Let me guess,” Jaxon says, playing along. “Most women like roses?”
“Yes,” she answers, not picking up on where he’s heard that before. “But I never did. I’ve always been partial to wildflowers.”
He gives me a knowing smile.
I settle on the end of Mom’s bed. “Jaxon used to be a hockey player, remember?”
Her gaze moves between the two of us, like she’s working something out. “Are you…dating?”
His eyes drift to me. “Yes, ma’am. She’s very special to me.”
Her mouth softens before she turns back to me. “He’s so handsome.”
I clamp my lips together to keep from laughing.
“Thank you,” Jaxon says, going along with it. “I wanted to ask you for something today.”
“What is it?”
“Your blessing.” He leans forward and looks directly at Mom. “I’d like to marry Summer, if it’s all right with you.”
My eyes widen. “Jaxon.”
Mom points at him, delighted, like she’s just caught on to a secret. “You’re going to marry him?”
“I—” I glance at Jaxon for help. He smiles at me and waits. “Well…” I pause. “He hasn’t exactly asked me yet.”
“I’m asking your mother first,” Jaxon says, nodding toward her. “That’s how it’s supposed to go.”
Her smile spreads into a pleased grin. “Smart man. I like him.”
“Mom,” I say, my cheeks burning. “He’s waiting on your answer.”
She doesn’t look at me. Just keeps her eyes on Jaxon. “Then make sure you’re always there for her.” She pauses, fingering the bouquet in her hands. “As long as you can do that, I think you’ll be very happy.”
“I will,” he says firmly. “You have my word.”
She turns toward me, and something sparks behind her gaze. “I remember you now. My little Wildflower.”
My breath catches. “Yes, Mom. It’s me.”
Thin fingers find my cheek. “You’re so beautiful. My greatest gift.”
I blink back tears. “I love you, Mom.”
She pulls me into her frail body, and I let her hold me. For a few seconds, I’m somebody’s daughter again, being held by her mother. I don’t know how long she’ll remember me, so I just let myself stay as long as it lasts.
When I finally glance up, Jaxon’s standing near the door, just watching and giving us room. There’s something in his face that lets me know he understands what he just witnessed—a mother recognizing her daughter, however briefly. He lets me have the moment without trying to rush me out of it.
I think that’s when I know, for certain, that I’m marrying the right man.
We don’t talk much in the truck on the way home. At one point, he reaches over and laces his fingers through mine, just to tell me I’m here if you need me.
It isn’t until we’re almost back to the farm that he says, “Thank you for letting me come. That was really special.” He squeezes my hand a little tighter and parks the truck. “You want to go for a ride? I’ll saddle the horses.”
He knows I need it. I always do after visiting Mom.
“Let me grab my hat,” I say.
When I show up in the barn, Jaxon’s already there, settling Rebel in front of him like he’s worked with horses all his life. Nobody would ever guess this man spent fourteen years on the ice instead of in a saddle.
He gives me that familiar smile when I approach, no hesitation anymore. It’s the one I get now, every time, and my heart skips a beat.
I raise an eyebrow. “You’re riding Rebel?”
“Yep, been taking her out every morning for months,” he says, running a hand down her neck. “Wouldn’t have gotten anywhere with her if you hadn’t put in two years of peppermints before I showed up and ruined it with a saddle.”
I laugh and scratch under her forelock. “You think she’s ready?”
“Yep, she’s ready. We both are.”
He watches me tack up Sally before mounting Rebel. He swings his leg over her back and settles in the saddle, Rebel patiently waiting. We ride to the back pasture together, and Rebel’s steady underneath Jaxon.
“Take it slow today?” Jaxon asks.
“I wouldn’t mind going faster,” I say. “The question is, can you?”
He lifts an eyebrow. “You’ve been trying to beat me on a horse ever since we were in high school.”
“And I’m still undefeated.”
“Pretty sure I won at least one race my senior year.”
“I don’t think so, cowboy.”
He grins, already nudging Rebel forward. “Let’s settle it, then.”
It’s nothing like that ride months ago in the rain, when I tore off across this same field, running from everything, and he came after me to make sure I wasn’t in trouble. This time he’s not chasing me. He doesn’t have to. I’m already his.
We pull up at the oak tree in the back corner of the property, the one with the old rope ladder still hanging from a low branch. This was where he braided me a flower crown out of daisies and told me he loved me for the first time.
We tie off the horses, and he leans against the tree and looks at me. “I want to show you something.”
“What is it?” I say, looking around. “Not much to see here.”
“Close your eyes, Wildflower.”
I set my hands on my hips. “Jaxon.”
“Humor me, please.”
I close my eyes, then I hear him moving, before his hand finds mine.
“You can open your eyes now.”
He’s bending on one knee in the grass, a small box open in his palm, and for one long moment, I just stare at the ring inside. It’s Miriam’s diamond—I’d recognize it anywhere.
My throat feels thick as tears well in my eyes. His thumb brushes over my hand. “I told you that someday I was going to ask you to be my wife. This is me, keeping that promise.”
I blink. I’m not sure I’m even breathing anymore.
“I love you, Summer,” he says. “I love that you make me better in every part of my life here. The farm, the people, the version of myself I didn’t know I still had in me.” He takes a breath. “So, Wildflower, will you marry me?”
And that’s when it hits me, standing under this tree with the winter light shifting through the branches, that I’ve seen this scene before.
Not when we were here last time, but before that—in a dream, long before Jaxon even returned to Lucky Chance.
I dreamt of a bride coming through a barn doorway with flowers everywhere, walking down an aisle toward her groom.
Outside the doors sat my teal truck, decorated with flowers and a soaped window with the words Just Married.
I never told anyone who was waiting at the end of that aisle. But I think some part of me already knew.
He’d asked me to marry him here first.
I’d told him yes in that dream, and the same answer rushes out of me now. “I’ll marry you, Jaxon Chance.”
He slides the ring onto my finger, and before I can even get a full look at it, his hands are at my waist, picking me up off the ground.
I throw my arms around his neck, and suddenly I’m lifted above him, looking down into his face, just like I was in the dream.
He spins us once beneath the oak tree, my boots kicking out behind me.
“Wildflower.” He doesn’t put me down. Just holds me there, looking up at me like he’s trying to memorize me.
“I had a dream about this once,” I tell him. “A long time ago. Before I even realized it was you.” My fingers trail over his cheek. “It was always you.”
He gives me a kiss that’s long and lingering, and somewhere behind us the horses graze, totally oblivious to what’s just happened.
When we finally break apart, he sets me on my feet and smiles as his hands link around my waist.
“So,” he says seriously. “Let’s talk about a venue for the wedding.”
I laugh softly. “I think I know of a barn that looks just like the one in my dream.”
“Funny,” he says with a grin. “Me too.”