Epilogue
Catherine
One Year Later
I had propped the patio doors open to let in the early-summer breeze, but the soft slide and thump of cowboy boots carried into the house instead.
I looked up from the grant applications I had been perusing for the better part of the afternoon and found Hayes lingering in the doorway.
Hello, handsome.
His workday had started hours earlier than mine, which meant he had cut out early and gone to work with Mason. The outdoors helped clear his head after stressful meetings or negotiations.
From nine to five—or whatever eight-hour window he worked—Hayes was in slacks and a neatly pressed button-up. After that, he was my cowboy.
I sat back on the couch and whistled as he lifted the Stetson off his head. “Look at you. Coming in for the day?”
He grinned down at his boots. “I don’t wanna track dirt through the house. I was hoping I could get you to come out.”
I sighed and looked at the stack of paperwork I had yet to go through. It had been just under a year since Lewis had been arrested and removed from the Wilder Foundation and yet I was still sorting through his mess.
A few months ago, we had gotten the green light from the horde of forensic accountants and attorneys Hayes had hired to undo everything Lewis had done, and I had officially taken the position as the head of the Wilder Foundation.
Since I didn’t want any worthy cause to fall through the cracks because of the damage Lewis had done, Hallie and I were reviewing each grant application by hand.
Between getting the foundation back to its former glory and growing the Learning Cottage, I was swamped.
“I should keep working,” I said with a sigh as I rubbed my temples. “At least for a little longer.”
Amusement danced in his eyes. “Cath. Clock out. It’s an hour and a half past quitting time. Work will be there tomorrow.”
I set the papers on the coffee table and tidied up the stacks. “I know. But if I could just get through a few more—”
Before I knew what was happening, Hayes crossed the room and hoisted me over his shoulder. The world turned upside down.
“Hayes!” I shrieked, swatting the back of his thigh. I spat out gobs of my hair that had fallen into my open mouth. “What are you doing?!”
“You’re clocked out,” he said as he paused on the stone patio and grabbed the pair of boots I kept there.
Over the last year, the estate house had become home.
We kept every bit of opulence that Hayes’s grandparents had left behind, but now there were shoes by the door.
Paperbacks, not decorative books, were on nearly every end table.
Pictures had been added to the fireplace mantel—recent ones of Hayes and me.
That wasn’t to say that the last year had been easy.
Even though Lewis’s legal dispute of the will had been dropped, Hayes had been put through the wringer with Lewis’s federal trial.
Stress from our jobs had given us short fuses and a few nights of sleeping alone.
But more than the stress, the last three hundred and sixty-five days had given me a clearer perspective.
There wasn’t anyone I wanted to go through the mountains and valleys of life with other than Hayes Wilder.
“I can walk, you know,” I grunted as he began to move again.
“Are you going to walk back inside and start working again?”
The answer was yes, but I wasn’t about to incriminate myself.
“Uh-huh,” Hayes teased after a beat of silence. “That’s what I thought.”
“Come on,” I groaned.
We didn’t even make it out of the rose garden before I was being upended again. I caught sight of long legs and freshly oiled hooves before I landed on my feet. Maisey and Elvis looked at me like I was the weird one.
I let out a low whistle when I looked at the new saddles they sported. “You two look fancy.” I spotted the SS logo that had been branded behind the pommel. “Custom saddles from Savannah?”
“I figured they were overdue for an upgrade,” Hayes said as he set my boots in front of me and held his hands out so I wouldn’t topple over as I put them on.
I smoothed my hand over the detailed design that had been branded into the edges of the saddle.
Hayes wore a mischievous smile as he grabbed my ass and gave me a boost. “Up you go.”
We took off, trotting up toward the cottage. I gave a wave to two of the volunteers who were outside with our little herd of cows.
Blanche, the matriarch of the bunch, stood sentry over the little ones as the volunteers made sure the bedding in the shelter was fresh, the water was clean, and they were happy and healthy.
“Did I tell you that the permits to start selling milk were approved?” I asked.
Hayes looked over from his spot on Maisey’s back. “No shit?”
“Got the email this morning.”
Hayes grinned. “That’s my girl. Does that mean the business program is a go?”
Jeremiah and Mike had cornered me about partnering with them to start a similar venture to the agricultural appreciation program that encouraged kids to dive into the business world.
Since we had a growing herd of cows and more milk than we knew what to do with, the three of us set out to get a permanent pasteurization process in place and the appropriate permits to sell it.
“I think we’ll launch in the fall. It’s not exactly the ideal time of year for an ice-cream stand, but we can set up a booth at the Apple Festival,” I said.
For the kids who weren’t particularly interested in livestock and agriculture, the young business owner program would teach them skills like marketing and accounting, understanding labor costs and the cost of goods when creating products.
But it would also engage them in making business plans and learning how to strategize.
Besides, math was way more fun when it has to do with ice cream.
Jeremiah and Mike were taking the reins, but I was on deck to advise and connect the two programs. They had hordes of business owners clamoring to get involved, and even more students.
“Is this what you imagined life looking like after you hung up your crown?” he asked as we took a left by the front gates and followed the property line to the mountains.
“No,” I said with an honest-to-goodness laugh. “Not at all.” I surveyed the rolling hills and plains. “I definitely didn’t expect to be living here. Or to have two social initiatives up and running.” I nudged my shoulder in his direction. “I definitely didn’t expect you.”
“That makes two of us,” he said with another smile.
I decided to call him out on it. “You’re in a good mood today.”
Hayes chuckled as he tugged on the reins to get Maisey to take a turn, edging around the foothills.
“You’re not going to tell me why you’re in a good mood?” I asked.
Hayes shrugged. “Just am.”
“That’s suspicious,” I sang as we passed Levi’s house. “Are we heading up to the kissing rock?” I asked.
“Nope,” Hayes said matter-of-factly, but mischief lingered in his voice.
“Then where are we—” I yanked on the reins, and Elvis came to a screeching halt.
A sea of blue lay before us, stretching out over the fields as far as the eye could see.
Irises, in shades that went from pale like the sky to the rich blues of the sea, bloomed in sprawling waves.
I cupped my hand over my mouth. “This wasn’t here before.”
Hayes eased over beside me. “No, it wasn’t.” He laid his hand on my knee. “But neither were you.” He dismounted with ease and reached for me.
A new hitching post had been put in by the trail that led to the kissing rock. We walked the horses over, and I waited as Hayes tied them up.
“What is this?” I asked as I traced my fingers over the outline of an iris that had been burned into the top of the post. “This is…”
“Our mark,” Hayes said as he took my hand and turned me away from the post. From this spot, I could see the expanse of the estate over the horizon of blue. The house was just a speck in the distance.
Hayes reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocketknife. He flicked it open and slowly carved our initials below the iris.
Tears filled my eyes as little shavings of wood floated to the ground. “Did you do all this?” I asked as I looked out among the irises again.
Hayes smiled again. “Mason helped. You’ve been so busy that we haven’t been out this way lately. I’m just glad they bloomed in time.”
“In time for what?”
Hayes closed the knife, slipped it back into his pocket, and reached for something else. Slowly, he lowered himself to one knee. “For me to ask you to marry me.”
The tears doubled, spilling over my lashes and down my cheeks. “But—but we’re already married!” I said somewhere between a cry and a laugh.
His love was quiet but endless. He was every steadfast mountain that surpassed ages of storms and changes.
“We made it a year,” he said calmly. “It wasn’t easy, but we did it.
And you know what? I’d do it again and again.
Because I see everything you are in this place.
I see your beauty in each flower. I hear your laugh in the birdsong.
I feel your tenacity in the blazing heat and the bitter cold.
I taste every bit of your sweetness in the honeysuckle because it flourishes just as naturally. ”
His smile widened as he opened his hand and offered the plain gold ring I had pressed him to get a year ago instead of the ornate one I wore day in and day out.
“Hayes,” I said in a reverent whisper.
“I didn’t get to propose to you the first time. I know we’ve talked about a vow renewal, but you deserve to be asked properly.” He looked up, those steady eyes meeting mine. “Catherine Grace Wilder, will you stay married to me?”
My fingers trembled as he slid the band onto the finger where I wore the Wilder family engagement ring and my wedding band.
“Yes,” I said in a tearful, blubbering response. “Yes, of course.”
Hayes stood, wrapped me in his arms, then dipped me back in a dramatic kiss. “Happy anniversary, sweetheart.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on tight. Life was a wild ride, but we were in it together. And I couldn’t imagine it being any wilder or more wonderful than this.