Epilogue #2
“I’ll be fine,” he tried to reassure her. “See? I’m doing all right.”
Nora reached out and adjusted the edge of his coat against the breeze. “Then take it easy, Weston Crane,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. “I’m not dragging you all the way home if you keel over.”
“You’d probably leave me there,” he teased.
Nora smiled faintly. “Don’t tempt me.”
Just then, the ranch came into view. What was left of the house stood blackened and hollowed.
Its old bones reached skyward like some great, charred skeleton.
The front porch had collapsed inward, and the roof was entirely gone, leaving the structure open to the sky.
Nora couldn’t deny it; the sight hurt more than she’d expected.
But just beyond the ruin, past the scorched path where the garden used to be, color and life unfolded.
“What…what is that?” she wondered out loud.
Tables had been set up beneath the wide oaks, covered in patchwork cloths and overflowing with food.
Nora immediately recognized the smell of baked beans; she then spotted heaping baskets of cornbread, and platters piled high with roasted meat that filled the air with the scent of smoke and spice.
Children darted barefooted between the grownups, shrieking with laughter.
Women had brought flowers, wild sunbursts of yellow and blue in old mason jars, and tucked them between stones or tied them to fenceposts, as if trying to coax beauty back from the ashes.
“What in God’s name…” he murmured, more to himself than her.
“It looks like they came to see us,” she said, surprised as he was.
Weston shook his head slowly, blinking like he didn’t quite trust what he saw. “All this…for us?”
“I guess it is.” She smiled.
When the wagon rolled to a stop, she moved quickly. “Here,” she offered, reaching a hand toward him. But he shook his head, gently brushing her aside.
“I’ve got it.”
Nora hovered a step behind as he took the first few steps toward the porch. She saw the tremor in his knees, the way he struggled to breathe, but he kept going.
“You’re unbelievable,” she said on a chuckle.
“I heard that,” Weston said without looking back. But there was brightness in his voice, something almost boyish, as he added, “But I forgive you.”
Nora laughed as they walked the last stretch together. The crowd was parting without a word as Weston limped past them, one step at a time, with his hand on his wounded shoulder, toward the house that somehow still stood.
“I knew he’d be all right!” Mary Jane cried, hugging him tightly.
The girl was in a clean cotton dress, with her hair pulled back in a sky-blue ribbon.
She had raced toward them from where she’d been helping arrange dishes and had nearly toppled the soup bowl she’d been carrying as she ran with arms flung wide.
“I missed you, Weston!” she hugged him tightly. “I missed you so much!”
“We wanted to surprise you,” came June’s voice from behind. She was standing near the fire pit, ladling stew into bowls with Sadie beside her. Both of them were grinning like they’d been planning this for days.
Nora looked around at all of them, the neighbors, the shopkeepers, the ranch hands, their wives and children. They all come to this wounded patch of land not just to eat or celebrate, but to remind her again: You’re not alone.
Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them back. No more crying, Nora Quinn. “This…it’s wonderful!” she exclaimed, instead. “I’m—you all are the best.”
The scent of good cooking curled through the warm afternoon air as Nora hugged her friends.
A baby giggled somewhere behind her. Someone struck the first bright chord on a fiddle.
There were things to be rebuilt, yes. There was loss that still lingered.
But there were also music, and meals, and laughter, and love.
And this is more than enough for us to move forward.
Nora watched Weston make his way toward the gathered crowd. Cade was the first to reach him, striding up with a crooked grin and a slap to Weston’s good shoulder. “Look at you,” Cade announced, “good as new. I nearly didn’t recognize you without blood on your shirt.”
“Can’t promise it’ll stay clean forever,” Weston chuckled. The sound of his laugh was real, which made Nora’s heart flutter again.
And before he could say more, Mayor Grafton stepped forward, flanked by a few town elders. The mayor’s hat was in his left hand, as he extended the right.
“Mr. Crane,” he said, sounding a bit more official than needed, “I had to admit, you’ve had a hard run of it. But I also want you to know…this town doesn’t turn its back on its own. We’ll help you rebuild the ranch. You just need to say the word.”
Weston looked down at the mayor’s hand in disbelief, like it might disappear if he reached for it. He hesitated for a moment. Then slowly, he took it. “I don’t know what to say,” he murmured. “I didn’t ask for—”
“You don’t have to,” Grafton cut in. “It’s already been decided.”
Around them, voices rose in agreement.
“You’re one of us now, Crane!”
“We’ll build everything back!”
“Ain’t no man doing it alone around here!”
Heads nodded, mouths laughed. Someone clapped, then someone else clapped again, until the sound rippled spontaneously and echoed across the yard.
Nora watched it all from a distance, and yet feeling as if she were standing in its midst. She could feel the warm shine in Weston’s eyes, the way his mouth tilted upward into a smile. She exhaled deeply, blessed and grateful. This is what belonging’s supposed to feel like.
Her heart swelled with it, with this land, these people, this man. She didn’t need to call out to him to enjoy this moment. She just watched, her eyes stinging and a slow smile breaking across her face.
We’ve made it. We’ve finally made it.
THE END?
(turn the page)