Epilogue
Snow pressed against the cabin windows in drifts that hid the bottom porch step.
Inside, firelight moved over the Christmas tree and the gold garland stretched above the table. My leopard-print stocking hung beside Jonah’s red one on the mantel. Counseling textbooks shared the bookcase with equipment manuals, and presents crowded the space beneath the tree.
Jonah came up behind me and drew me against his chest.
“You’re staring at the tree again,” he said.
“I like what we did.”
“You made it beautiful.”
“We made it ours.”
His beard brushed my temple when he kissed me there. “That part was you too.”
I turned to face him and smoothed both palms over the dark henley stretched across his chest. “You built the shelf, carried in the tree, and pretended not to notice when I used three times the lights we needed.”
“I noticed.”
“You still helped me hang them.”
“I like seeing you happy.”
I gripped his shirt.
I rose onto my toes and kissed him.
Jonah held me closer, and the kiss stayed soft and unhurried, warm enough to make the snow outside feel farther away. When it ended, I rested my cheek against his chest while he rubbed my back.
My laptop chimed from the table.
The satellite connection held steady while a message from my program loaded.
Jonah stayed close as we crossed the room. “Is it good news?”
I read the first line twice. “My professor approved my revised practicum plan.”
His crooked smile widened. “I knew she would.”
“You had more confidence than I did.”
“I’ve watched you work.”
I caught the front of his henley and kissed him again.
My laptop began ringing.
Daddy’s name filled the screen.
Jonah rested his palm at the small of my back. “Are you ready?”
I leaned into him.
“I’m ready.”
I accepted the call.
Daddy appeared on the screen wearing a white dress shirt with the collar open beneath a dark cardigan. A Christmas tree filled one corner behind him, decorated in gold and red with enough lights to prove my taste had a genetic source.
His expression softened when he saw me.
“Merry Christmas, Princess.”
“Merry Christmas, Daddy.”
His gaze moved past me. “Mr. Bricker.”
Jonah leaned close enough to enter the frame. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Russo.”
“You can call me Domenico.”
Jonah looked at me.
I pressed my lips together.
Daddy frowned. “Why is that surprising?”
“You’ve called him Mr. Bricker for six months,” I said.
“I’ve decided six months is long enough to establish that he knows his own last name.”
Jonah drew me closer.
“Thank you, Domenico.”
Daddy nodded once. “How much snow is outside?”
“Enough to hide the porch step.”
“You’re staying inside.”
“I’m wearing a sweater dress and high-heeled boots. I wasn’t planning a wilderness expedition.”
“The boots have fur.”
“The fur is decorative.”
“I knew it.”
Jonah lowered his mouth near my ear. “I told you.”
“You said they weren’t snow boots. Daddy is questioning the purpose of the fur.”
“It doesn’t have one.”
Daddy lifted a hand. “I’m satisfied that you’ve both reached the correct conclusion.”
I smiled at the screen.
Six months ago, that tone would’ve been followed by an order. Now he waited while I chose whether to answer.
I angled the laptop so he could see more of the cabin.
My study planner lay open beside the Russo work tablet I used during the two mornings each week covered by my contract.
Daddy noticed the planner first.
“Your practicum was approved?”
“It was.”
“And you’ve registered for next semester?”
“My tuition deposit cleared from my account yesterday.”
Daddy’s mouth tightened for half a second.
He no longer controlled that account, couldn’t freeze it, and hadn’t been asked to approve the payment.
“That’s good,” he said.
Warmth spread through my chest.
“Thank you.”
He adjusted one cuff. “The office received your December invoice.”
“I submitted it this morning.”
“Eight hours again?”
“That’s what my contract allows.”
Jonah’s thumb moved slowly against my waist.
“The invoice was paid,” Daddy continued. “It should reach your account after the holiday.”
“Thank you.”
“I also need you on a call Monday morning.”
“What time?”
“Ten.”
“I have therapy at ten. I can join at eleven-thirty.”
Daddy looked away from the screen.
The pause lasted long enough for me to hear the fire settle behind us.
“You’re still going every week?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He turned the old signet ring once.
“Eleven-thirty will work.”
I swallowed.
“Thank you, Daddy.”
“I’m adjusting a meeting. Don’t make it historic.”
“It’s Christmas Eve. I’m allowed to acknowledge a miracle.”
Jonah covered a laugh with a cough.
Daddy narrowed his eyes at him. “You encourage this.”
“She arrived encouraged.”
“That’s true.”
I laughed, and Daddy’s mouth curved.
“Show me the snow,” Daddy said.
Jonah carried the laptop to the window while I held the curtain aside. White covered the road, porch, and stacked logs beneath the overhang. The pines stood heavy and still beyond the glass.
Daddy shook his head. “It’s beautiful from inside.”
“That’s also how I prefer it,” I said.
“Do you have enough food?”
“We could survive until February.”
Jonah set the laptop back on the table. “She cooked for twelve people.”
“My grandmother’s gravy shouldn’t be made in emotionally limited quantities.”
Daddy’s face softened again. “Your grandmother would agree.”
“I made it the way she taught me.”
“With enough garlic?”
“Enough to protect the property.”
“Good.”
“Mr. Russo?” someone called beyond Daddy’s screen. “Dinner’s ready.”
He turned his head. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
Then he faced us again.
“I have to go downstairs.”
“You’re having dinner with everyone?”
“Yes. Your cousins have already started arguing about where to sit.”
“Put whoever keeps leaving the table near the kitchen.”
“I already did.”
“See? You still need me.”
“I never said I didn’t.”
I let out a slow breath.
Daddy looked at Jonah. “Take care of her.”
Jonah stood close behind me. “I will when she asks.”
Daddy nodded.
“Call tomorrow,” he said.
“We’ll call after breakfast.”
“I love you, Princess.”
“I love you too, Daddy.”
His gaze moved between us. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.”
The screen went dark.
For several seconds, I looked at my reflection in it.
Jonah kissed my hair. “That went well.”
“He moved a family call for therapy.”
“He did.”
“He also accepted an invoice without adding seventeen unrelated tasks.”
“Your contract held.”
“I’m a professional.”
“You’re expensive.”
“I’m excellent.”
“You are.”
I turned to face him. “You keep saying things that make it difficult to pretend I’m humble.”
“I’ve never seen you pretend that.”
“That’s because you respect me.”
Jonah kissed me once, then reached past me to close the laptop.
Dinner waited on the table.
My grandmother’s Sunday gravy covered baked pasta beneath a layer of browned cheese. Jonah had made the cast-iron cinnamon rolls he’d eaten every Christmas Eve since moving into the cabin because they required one pan and almost no planning.
He’d improved the icing after I moved in.
We ate beneath the tree lights while snow tapped softly against the windows.
I’d repaid Jonah the full amount listed on Mabel’s receipt in August using the first account that belonged only to me. Jonah had expanded the bedroom closet across one wall, and every shelf was full.
He hadn’t asked me to discard anything to make room.
He’d built more room.
After dinner, Jonah carried the plates to the sink while I poured two glasses of prosecco.
“The approval qualifies as a milestone,” I said.
“I thought passing your classes was expected.”
“It was. This deserves bubbles.”
He accepted the glass and touched it to mine. “To the good news.”
“To our satellite internet.”
“That wasn’t cheap.”
“It remained connected for an entire call with Daddy. It has earned recognition.”
We drank.
Jonah set his glass down before I finished mine.
“You’re becoming serious,” I said.
“I need to give you something.”
I looked toward the tree. “You already gave me a present.”
“This is different.”
He picked up a small wrapped box from behind the tree.
I stopped breathing for a beat.
The box fit inside his broad palm.
Jonah returned to me and held it out.
I looked from the gold paper to his face.
“May I begin processing aloud?”
“I expected you to.”
“This is suspiciously small.”
“That’s true.”
“It’s also wrapped much better than my other present.”
“Mabel helped.”
“That increases the probability of jewelry.”
Jonah’s crooked smile appeared, but his green-brown eyes stayed fixed on mine.
My fingers trembled when I took the box.
I peeled away the paper and lifted the lid.
A diamond filled the center of the ring.
It was large, brilliant, and surrounded by smaller stones that caught every light on the tree.
“Oh,” I whispered.
Jonah watched me. “Is it right?”
I lifted my eyes. “You bought me a very large diamond.”
“You don’t like small.”
“I can appreciate understatement in other people.”
“I didn’t buy it for other people.”
My eyes burned.
Jonah took the box and placed it on the table.
Then he lowered himself onto one knee.
I covered my mouth.
“Talia.”
I dropped my hand immediately. “I’m listening.”
“I used to think loving someone meant taking responsibility for every decision she made.”
He took my hand.
“You came here because other people decided what would happen to both of us. Then you stayed because you wanted to. Since then, you’ve built a life here without asking me to run it.”
My vision blurred.
“I want the schoolbooks on the table,” he continued. “I want your calls with your father and your work mixed in with mine. I want the life we have.”
A tear slipped over my cheek.
Jonah brushed it away with his thumb.
“I don’t want to manage your life. I want to share it.”
I held on tighter.
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes.”
The word came out too quickly and too breathlessly, so I said it again.
“Yes, Jonah. I’ll marry you.”
His shoulders lowered.
I laughed through the tears. “Did you think I might say no?”
“I thought you might need to complete the analysis first.”
“My analysis is that I love you, I want you, and you chose exactly the right ring.”
He slid it onto my finger.
“It fits,” I said.
“I checked one of your other rings.”
“That was very resourceful.”
“I know.”
I pulled him to his feet and kissed him.
Jonah lifted me until my feet left the floor. I held his face while he carried me toward the tree.
When he set me down, I pressed one palm to his chest and lifted my left hand between us.
The diamond looked perfect beside my French-tip nails.
Jonah’s work-worn fingers closed around mine. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
He kissed me beneath the Christmas lights, and I kissed my future husband back.
Six months ago, I’d arrived at his cabin as a bride neither of us had ordered. Now I wore his ring and couldn’t wait for the life ahead of us. Somehow, that ridiculous beginning had brought me home to the perfect man meant for me.
***
Thank you so much for reading The Mountain Man’s Mail-Order Mafia Princess.