Epilogue
A FEW MONTHS LATER…
Preston
I’d never seen so many people at the trailhead before. Thankfully, Jess had suggested we ask the town to temporarily block off the street to set up the tables and booths to handle the crowds.
Not that I was complaining. I wasn’t.
The first annual Timber Creek Trail Fest was an incredible success.
My teen group had jumped in with both feet, more than happy to show off the skills they’d been learning.
It was an amazing thing to watch some of these kids who’d known next to nothing about the outdoors now doing demonstrations on fire starting, or shelter building, as if they’d been doing it their whole life.
A handful of the older kids were off leading short, guided trail hikes, while still others were manning the registration booth, signing up even more teens who were interested in joining our little group.
It was a good thing I had some help. Jess had happily joined me as a co-leader of the group.
She added a much-needed female perspective, according to Quinn, who had become a poster child for my Teens in the Trails group.
She may have joined because of a boy, but watching my niece grow into a certifiable outdoor kid was one of my prouder accomplishments.
I scanned the group, making sure everything was under control, when I spotted Quinn.
She was pretending to listen to one of the other teens explain how to prepare for a camping trip, while very obviously watching Mason, who was erecting a tent off to the side.
He was a competent camper and a good kid. Most importantly, my niece liked him.
I drifted closer. “You’re staring.”
She elbowed me in the ribs. “I am not.”
I lifted a brow.
She sighed. “Okay, maybe a little.”
“That’s allowed,” I added. “Last I checked.”
She nodded, then surprised me by saying, “You know…I think I get it now.”
“Get what?”
She shrugged, still watching Mason struggle with a tent pole. “That thing you were talking about. Not forcing stuff. Letting it be what it is.”
I stayed quiet, letting her keep going.
“I used to think it was supposed to feel all dramatic,” she said. “Like fireworks or something.” She glanced at me. “But this?” She nodded toward Mason. “This feels…easy.”
My chest tightened in a way I hadn’t expected.
“Easy’s good,” I said.
She smiled, just a little. “Yeah. I think so too.”
Mason chose that moment to look up and grin at her, and Quinn’s smile turned shy instead of smug.
I clapped her lightly on the shoulder. “Looks like you’re figuring things out.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t make it weird.”
I laughed and backed away, going in search of coffee. But before I could find the tent with the refreshments, Jess appeared beside me and pressed a paper cup in my hand. “How did you know?”
“Because I know you.” She winked, and I kissed her on the cheek.
What I really wanted to do was press her up against the nearest tree and show her exactly how thankful I was. But we’d had our share of public displays of affection for a while. Besides, I really did need the coffee.
“I have something to show you.” She wiggled her eyebrows as a tease, but I saw the roll of papers in her hand.
“The plans?”
She nodded. “I couldn’t wait. Want to see?”
“You know I do.”
Jess
I led the way to an empty table at the corner of the festival, which I had to admit was a roaring success.
Not that I’d expect it to be any different.
Preston was passionate about the outdoors and the trails.
When I suggested that maybe he could help other people discover the beauties of being outdoors while also showing them how accessible they could be, he jumped all over the idea, and pretty soon the idea for the Timber Creek Trail Fest was born.
But that wasn’t the only thing we’d been hard at work on over the last few months, and I couldn’t wait to show him the preliminary results of some of that work.
“I think you’re going to be pleased.” I slowly unrolled the paper across the table.
“Everything you do pleases me, Dots.” He winked at the use of the stupid nickname that I was no longer irritated by.
I actually thought it was cute, but I still liked to pretend it pissed me off.
I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to the plans I’d anchored with a few rocks to keep them down.
The updated proposal.
The real proposal.
I’d spent months working with council and members of the community and learning everything I could about property development.
After Trevor’s scare tactics, I’d been so worried about the investors pulling out of the project completely.
And they had. But then, almost every single one had happily reinvested in my project.
Trevor had been right about one thing: the investors did love the small-town angle.
Only, as it turned out, they all appreciated transparency instead of the underhanded techniques Trevor had been trying to use.
Regardless, the funding was secure. I’d done it.
Well, mostly.
We still had a lot of hurdles to jump through, but this was the first real start.
We were one step closer to affordable housing that made sense and worked for our town, and with the land instead of taking advantage of it.
All trails were left intact, the animal corridors were safe, and most importantly, it was a plan that was going to help a lot of people find housing in the town they loved.
And on a personal level, my parents’ retirement was safe.
“This is what we’re moving forward with,” I said, unable to keep the pride from my voice. “The council signed off officially this morning.”
Preston studied the papers longer than necessary. I knew that look. He could see it. Not just the vision, but what it would look like when it was done.
“You did it,” he said quietly.
“Not yet. We still have—”
“No.” He stopped me. “This is going to happen, Jess. You did it.”
Love surged through me for this man and his unending, totally unwavering support and belief in me. “We did it.” I reached for him. “Together.”
Around us, the day kept moving. Someone laughed near the snack table. Kids chased each other around, weaving through the crowd with their bags of popcorn and trail mix.
The teen volunteers were doing an amazing job of running the festival. A true testament to Preston and his leadership. The love he had for the trails oozed out into those kids, making a real difference.
Summit, who’d tripled in size, stretched out at Preston’s feet, his tail thumping lazily whenever someone walked by.
It wasn’t the future I’d pictured only a few months ago when it felt like everything was slipping through my fingers.
It was so much better.
I slipped my hand into Preston’s, the way I always did now, without thinking. It was so easy with him. Like we’d been together all these years instead of being ridiculous rivals.
He laced his fingers through mine and squeezed, pulling me close.
Preston leaned down, his mouth brushing my ear. “Have I told you how beautiful you look today?”
“Not yet.”
“My bad.” He spun me so we were chest to chest. “Because you look absolutely phenomenal.” He lifted a finger to trace the freckles on my cheeks and nose. “I love your freckles.” He pressed his lips to mine. “And you, of course.”
I laughed a little and melted into the kiss for a moment. “And I love you, you crazy mountain man.”
He winked and pulled back a little. “I hope you’re ready,” he said casually, like I had any idea what he was talking about.
“For what?” I didn’t bother to hide my surprise. The only plan for the day was the festival, and that was plan enough. We’d both been working what felt like nonstop for months; having no plan would be a plan at this point.
He smiled, slow and knowing. “In a few hours, when this all wraps up, I have something to show you.”
“What could you possibly have to show me?”
He winked. “It’s a little surprise Summit and I have worked up.”
I looked at the sleeping dog. “Is that right?”
“It is.” He nodded seriously, trying not to smile. “In fact, it was Summit’s idea.”
“Well, then, I can’t wait to see what he’s planned.”
“Me too, Dots.” He kissed my forehead. “You’ll just have to wait till tonight.”
There was a time I would have convinced myself that whatever this was had an expiration date.
But as Preston disappeared into the crowd, Summit trotting at his heels, I felt it settle deep in my bones.
Whatever came next—hard days, long meetings, unexpected turns—I wasn’t facing it alone.
And for the first time in my life, that felt like everything.