Epilogue
“If you ever want to write a historical romance, Austin, Belle Hancock’s life is a pretty great story,” Jessie Jane said as they sat down to the second Thanksgiving dinner she and Flynn had attended that week.
Her parents had decided to celebrate the holiday on Monday. “Why not, after all?” her mother had asked.
Why not, indeed.
“I’m not sure I can be moved to write about the Hancocks,” Austin said. “No offense. But you’re changing your name to Wilder, so I feel like that’s a win for us.”
“Belle was just Butch’s sister-in-law. Her husband Benjamin was a good man. He repaired clocks!”
“Why didn’t his legacy trickle down to your family, then?”
“Well, Belle and Benjamin didn’t stay in the area.
He didn’t want her to be forever shunned because of her past. They moved to California and bought a house in San Diego, right on the water.
Belle loved it. My mom ended up with all of her old things because she’s so great at tracking down collectibles, so now we have her whole story. ”
“Did Butch leave a diary?” Austin asked.
Jessie shook her head. “Not as far as I know. He didn’t keep records. Maybe because being an awful person doesn’t make for a great narrative? Who knows. But that’s why, in the end, the original Austin Wilder had the last word through you. And Butch just gets to live in infamy.”
“But not us,” Cassidy said. “Now Austin is a best-selling author, Carson has a respectable business in town, and Flynn is engaged to the mayor. And well, Jessie, you’re the mayor.”
When she and Flynn were on their way home—she’d moved in with him almost right away, leaving behind the trailer circle, which had been harder than she’d imagined—she was still musing.
“Belle had to leave town so she wouldn’t be eternally dogged by her past. Hell really is other people.”
“It definitely can be.”
“We didn’t have to do that, though. This place is actually changing, and we’re part of the change. I’m going to remember that whenever I feel that I’m not making much of a difference. We are. All of us. We’re changing the story, and I’d like to think changing some of the people around us.”
“Because you’re a legend, Jessie Jane Hancock, not just an outlaw.”
She smiled, and looked out the window, at all the stars overhead. “Jessie Jane Wilder.”
“Well, you’re going to have to change all your political signs next time.”
Her heart felt as if it might just burst. “You’re worth it, Flynn. You’re worth absolutely everything.”