Epilogue #2
Nathan smiled faintly. "I've spent the better part of a month wondering whether I should give you one last lecture."
Daisy laughed softly. "Nathan..."
"What?" he asked innocently. "I'm her brother. It's practically my duty."
"You've already given him several hundred." Daisy cleared her throat.
"And yet he keeps needing them."
A ripple of laughter spread through the guests.
Even Flint found himself smiling.
Nathan shook his head, though affection lingered plainly in his expression. "I suppose there's no point now." His voice softened as he met Flint's gaze again. "Just... take care of each other."
Flint nodded, emotion tightening his throat. "I will."
Only then did Nathan lift Daisy's hand and place it gently into Flint's. The instant her fingers curled around his, the rest of the world lost its hold on him. Conversations faded into the distance. Music became background noise. Even the crowd seemed to disappear.
Daisy tipped her head slightly, her smile widening as her thumb brushed across his knuckles. "Well," she said, amusement threading through her voice, "you’re still here."
Flint laughed under his breath. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.”
The minister began speaking, welcoming family and friends while Flint listened with varying degrees of success. A few sentences reached him clearly enough to understand their meaning, though most of his attention remained devoted to the woman standing opposite him.
Eventually, the minister turned toward them with a warm smile. "Join your right hands."
Flint did as instructed, unable to take his eyes off Daisy.
The minister looked at him first. "Repeat after me. I, Flint Callahan, take thee, Daisy Whitmore, to be my lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do us part."
Flint repeated every word, his voice growing steadier with each promise.
The minister turned to Daisy. "I, Daisy Whitmore, take thee, Flint Callahan, to be my lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do us part."
Daisy spoke each vow without hesitation, her fingers never leaving his.
The minister smiled warmly as he looked between them. "I have been told by Mr. Callahan that there is something you would both like to say to one another. I know this is unusual, but I think we all want to hear you.”
A murmur of anticipation drifted through the gathered guests.
Flint looked at Daisy. Her smile was gentle, patient, as though she already knew whatever words he was struggling to find.
He drew a slow breath and took both of her hands in his.
"For a long time," he began, "I thought loving you meant walking away whenever danger came close. I convinced myself that if I carried every burden alone, the people I loved would be safer."
His thumb brushed slowly across her knuckles
"I know now that I wasn't protecting you.
" He held her gaze. "I was shutting you out.
I won't make that mistake again." His voice grew quieter, though somehow steadier too.
"I won't leave you behind and call it love.
I won't decide what you can bear because I'm afraid of losing you.
I've spent enough years trying to face the world alone.
" He gave her hands a gentle squeeze. "I don't want to do that anymore. "
The words settled over the yard in a quiet that seemed to reach every person listening.
"Whatever tomorrow brings," he said, "I'll meet it beside you. Not in front of you. Not behind you. Beside you. As your husband."
Daisy's fingers tightened around his, and for a moment she simply looked at him. Tears shimmered in her eyes, but her smile only grew brighter.
When she finally spoke, her voice was soft enough that Flint almost had to lean closer to hear it.
"I spent years believing I was protecting you by deciding what kind of life you deserved.
" She laughed quietly through her tears.
"I was wrong, too. I won't hide behind fear anymore.
I won't keep secrets because I think I know what's best for you.
" Her thumb brushed gently over his. "I'll trust you with the truth.
I'll trust you enough to let you stand beside me.
And if life becomes difficult..." Her smile warmed. "...then we'll carry it together."
Flint wasn't sure his heart had ever felt so full.
The minister smiled. "By the authority granted to me, I now pronounce you husband and wife."
The words struck Flint with surprising force.
Husband and wife.
After everything they'd survived, the reality still felt almost impossible to grasp.
The minister smiled broadly. "You may kiss your bride."
Flint didn't waste a heartbeat. He drew Daisy into his arms and kissed her.
Cheers exploded across the ranch yard. Applause followed immediately, blending with laughter and whistles from every direction.
Ruth burst into fresh tears. Samuel wrapped an arm around her shoulders while laughing.
Nathan shook his head. "Well," he said to nobody in particular, "I suppose I can retire now."
When the kiss finally ended, Daisy's hands remained curled against his shoulders, and her smile carried enough joy to make the entire world seem brighter.
His wife.
For years, he'd convinced himself redemption was a lonely road that required a man to carry every burden alone. Standing beneath the wide Wyoming sky with Daisy resting comfortably against his side, he finally understood how wrong he'd been.
The people surrounding him had offered forgiveness when he deserved none. They had welcomed him home when he wasn't sure he still had one. They had given him a future when he'd spent years expecting very little from life.
Daisy reached for his hand and intertwined their fingers.
The simple gesture grounded him more effectively than any speech ever could.
She had seen every flaw he carried. She had known his failures, his fears, and every reason he believed himself unworthy of happiness.
She had chosen him anyway.
The celebration unfolded around them in a blur of voices, embraces, congratulations, and laughter.
Ruth held Daisy for so long Flint wondered whether he would need to negotiate his wife’s return.
Clara cried openly, then laughed at herself for it.
Julian bowed over Daisy’s hand with such exaggerated dignity that Daisy threatened to hit him with her bouquet if he made her laugh hard enough to ruin her composure.
Wyatt clapped Flint on the back hard enough to nearly send him forward.
“You survived,” Wyatt said.
Nathan appeared beside them, looking entirely too satisfied. “For the record, I lost money.”
Flint glanced at him. “Good.”
“I still think you came close.”
“I did not.”
Daisy slipped her hand into Flint’s arm. “You did get very quiet.”
“I was being respectful.”
Wyatt laughed. “That’s what we’re calling it?”
Flint ignored him. Daisy’s hand rested warmly against his sleeve, and the feel of her there, relaxed and happy, made every joke bearable.
More than bearable.
Welcome.
For years, Flint had imagined forgiveness as something solemn. Difficult. Weighted with confession and judgment. He had never imagined it could sound like Wyatt’s laughter, Ruth’s fussing, Nathan’s dry remarks, and Samuel’s quiet smile.
He had never imagined it could feel like family. The afternoon eased into evening.
Tables were filled beneath lanterns and strings of ribbon.
Ruth had prepared enough food to feed three ranches and possibly a small cavalry unit.
Samuel insisted he had warned her not to overdo it, which made Ruth look at him with such affectionate disbelief that even Flint knew better than to involve himself.
Candles glowed everywhere.
Daisy’s candles.
Their soft light turned the yard golden as the sun dropped lower over the land. The scent of lavender and beeswax mingled with supper, flowers, and summer grass until the whole ranch seemed wrapped in warmth.
Flint watched Daisy move among the guests with Clara at one side and Ruth at the other. She smiled whenever someone spoke her name, answered congratulations with grace, and laughed whenever Wyatt said something he probably should have kept to himself.
She did not look like someone who needed rescuing.
She looked like the woman who had fought her way back to a full life with quiet courage, stubborn determination, and more grace than Flint thought he would ever possess.
She looked happy, and seeing her that way filled him with more gratitude than he could have put into words.
Music began after supper.
At first, couples drifted slowly into the open space cleared between the tables and the arch. Wyatt pulled Clara into a dance that began respectably enough before he spun her too quickly and earned a scolding. Samuel offered Ruth his hand, and she pretended to complain while accepting immediately.
Nathan attempted to remain safely near the table.
Julian prevented this by asking loudly whether doctors were exempt from dancing on medical grounds.
Nathan gave him a look. “Are merchants exempt from minding their own business?”
“No,” Julian replied cheerfully. “We’re encouraged against it.”
Daisy laughed beside Flint. The sound moved through him with familiar ease.
He turned toward her. “Mrs. Callahan.”
Her smile curved. “Yes, Mr. Callahan?”
“Dance with me.”
Her expression softened, though amusement lingered at the edges. “Are you asking or ordering?”
“Asking.”
“That is a promising start.”
He offered his hand. “Do you trust me?”
She did not hesitate. “Always.”
Flint guided her toward the music.
He moved slowly at first, giving her time to adjust to the uneven ground and the rhythm of the couples around them. Daisy’s hand rested in his, her other hand settling lightly against his shoulder.
“I should warn you,” she said, “I may step on your foot.”
“I’ve survived worse.”