Chapter 51
Easton: One Year Later
Wildwood Meadows in late spring was green, and the promise of summer was right around the corner. The river that curved along the ridge ran wild with snowmelt and practically burst along the seams with all the water we’d been getting.
A year ago, I’d been gutting walls and helping Lila patch together her life, and maybe, if I was honest, patching up my own.
The grief that had been haunting me had felt sharp around the edges when I’d arrived back home.
Things had still felt raw because I’d isolated myself instead of leaning on my family.
Now that I was home, his memory wrapped around me, and while it still hurt, I let myself remember him and the joy that had been my life with him.
Standing at the edge of the ridge with the sun slanting gold across the valley, it all felt like the kind of peace you didn’t dare take for granted. I was going to try to live with my arms and my heart open from now on.
The land we stood on had once been just another line on a map — the thirty acres Nora Merrick left behind.
Behind us, the first framework of a small structure stood, half-built, the lumber pale and new.
Kipp and I had started the project weeks ago, with help from Wade and a few of the locals.
Lila had decided to sell the property to Kipp for more vacation rentals, with the agreement that she’d help with brainstorming the marketing.
Lila wanted to call it The Wildwood Annex, and I hadn’t stopped smiling since she said it out loud.
Lila stood a few paces away, her boots half-buried in the grass, hair whipping across her face. She was staring out toward the valley, one hand tucked into the pocket of her faded jeans, the other holding a travel mug. She wore my flannel again — the old gray one she’d stolen sometime last year.
I watched her for a long minute. The way she tilted her head, the way the sunlight threaded through her hair, the small, easy smile on her lips — all of it hit me at once.
That familiar punch to the ribs that came every time I realized she was mine.
She didn’t know it yet, but today I was going to ask her to marry me.
She turned, catching me watching. “You’re staring,” she said, grinning.
“Can’t help it,” I said. “You’re the view.”
Her laugh rolled across the ridge, warm and bright. “You’ve been spending too much time with Sage. That was practically poetic.”
“I’ve been spending too much time in love, that’s what it is.”
She blinked at that, smile softening as the breeze caught her hair.
“I love you, too, big guy.” Leaning in for a kiss, I loved on her for a minute, taking my time tracing her lips and letting my thumbs find the spots along her jaw that she liked until she moaned.
My girl liked her kisses, and I liked to oblige.
We’d spent the morning walking the property lines, checking on the survey markers Wade’s office had set last summer. It had taken months of paperwork and patience, but everything was finally all settled.
“I still can’t believe it’s been a year,” she said, looking out over the stretch of meadow. “Sometimes it feels like a lifetime. Other days, like it was yesterday.”
“Sometimes it feels that way,” I said. “The bad parts seem like they’re close by sometimes, but the good can help swallow them up. That’s the trick of it. We get to live in the good now. I’m going to do my damndest to make sure.”
She nodded, eyes glistening a little. “I never would’ve made it without you.”
“Sure, you would’ve,” I said softly. “You just would’ve hated every minute of it. I’m awesome.”
That got me the eye roll I loved. She stepped closer, bumping her shoulder against mine. “You always have to make me laugh when I’m trying to be sentimental.”
“Occupational hazard.” She smiled up at me, and I figured now was as good a time as any. “Walk with me?” I asked.
She gave me a curious look but nodded, tucking her hand into mine.
I led her along the ridge trail, the same one that overlooked the valley floor.
From up here, we could see all of Wildwood Meadows — the silver thread of the river, the faint smudge of the highway, and the dark green fringe of pine that bordered the town.
The world was opening up again after winter.
When we reached the old stump by the edge, I stopped. The wind tugged at her hair as she turned toward me. “It’s pretty up here.”
I pulled the little wooden box from my pocket. Not velvet — I wasn’t that fancy. Just hand-carved maple, polished until it gleamed. I’d made it myself in the shop on a quiet night a few weeks back.
Her lips parted, breath catching. “East…”
I dropped to one knee in the damp grass, the scent of pine wrapping around us. For a man who spent his life working with his hands, words never came easily, but for her, they did.
“You know I’m not much for speeches,” I said, voice low. “But I spent most of my life thinking I wasn’t the kind of man who got to keep good things. You showed me what it feels like to build something that lasts, what it means to belong somewhere. With someone.”
She pressed her hand to her mouth, eyes shining.
I flipped open the box, revealing the ring—a simple gold band inset with a small rose-cut diamond. Nothing flashy, nothing that would outshine her hands when she worked. Just solid, bright, and meant to last.
“So,” I said quietly, heart pounding. “You make this place home. You make me better. I want to stay for you. Will you marry me?”
For a long second, all I could hear was the wind. Then she dropped to her knees next to me, laughter and tears tangled together.
“Yes,” she breathed. “God, yes.”
I slid the ring onto her finger, my hands shaking worse than they ever had in my life. She looked down at it, smiling through tears, then launched herself against me. I caught her, arms wrapping tight as she kissed me.
When she finally pulled back, her forehead rested against mine. “You know, you could’ve done this somewhere less dramatic.”
“What? You don’t think this was dramatic?” I teased back. “Did you want some kind of big story for book club?”
“This is perfect. Just you and me, the way it should be.” She scratched her fingernails against my beard.
I bit my lip for a minute, feeling uneasy about the plan that I’d come up with. “Well …” Just before the mock roars began from behind us, and my siblings started charging in their dino suits.
“This is Jurassic Park!!!” Kipp shouted as he tried to run from the trees.
Laughing hysterically, I hauled her over my shoulder. “Time to go.” Maybe this wasn’t the most romantic proposal ever, but the pictures were going to be something else, I thought as I high-tailed it back to the truck with all five of my siblings chasing us in their inflatable suits.
“Faster, Lo Lo.” “You! Faster Sage-O-Rama.” “Wade, shoot his ass.”
When I finally managed to wrestle my way back to the truck and put her safely down in the seat, she had tears streaming because she was laughing so hard. “Ten out of ten, East.” She squished my cheeks together. “Five stars.”
“Had to give you a proper Holt welcome,” I said just as Wade tackled Kipp to the ground and tore his suit open. “Glad you said yes.” I snickered.
Down in the valley, Wildwood Meadow’s lights began to twinkle on, one by one.
It wasn’t the life I thought I’d have. It was better.
And with her hand in mine, her ring catching the last of the light, I knew one thing for sure — I wasn’t ever letting go. Maybe there would be hard times, but there would also be laughs, costumes, and love. What better life could I ask for?