Epilogue

Fifteen months later

“This family’s the size of a college graduating class,” teased Dutton as he pointed at the photographer’s proof displayed on the laptop screen. “When we ordered a family picture for the wedding album, well, I didn’t expect this.”

“Of course you did.” Chelsea curled tighter against him on the sofa in the tiny front room of their new house on her acres at Hearts Crossing Ranch. “You’ve known how it is with Ma ever since you met me in Brighton. Any kind of connection makes somebody family. Everybody’s in-laws, every outlaw, every ‘ex’, every cast-off, gets invited to everything. That’s just her way.”

Lovingly, she hovered her finger over Hooper’s face, smiling yet tinged with grief. An event coordinator, Mallie had had enough time to lay down initial plans for the wedding before her brain tumor accelerated. The Lord had called her home one year ago, quite peacefully, in the arms of her husband.

Dutton’s warm breath comforted Chelsea, as did the face where he laid his finger. His best man in a western tux. Gramps.

“It’s so amazing, Gramps being named Joe, too,” she murmured. “He sure has turned out to be a great guy.” Chelsea touched the tip of her finger across Dutton’s.

“Because he turned to God.” Dutton smiled. “Wish he’d done so years ago. Then again.” He kissed Chelsea, quick, but she tingled. “Wish I had too.”

“It’s all good now. God is good. Gramps finding investors for us...your mom, sober for over a year. Even still, I just can’t believe…” Chelsea’s voice turned winsome. “I just can’t believe it’s all over. Something you look forward to since you’re five years old and stick Grim-Gram’s doily on your head. Then you grow up. A whole year of planning. Poof. Over and done.”

“Five years old? C’mon.” Dutton performed a manly snort, something she’d long been used to with five brothers. “I didn’t give it more than five minutes.”

And he hadn’t. Preferring a quick ceremony with just a handful of family, he’d lovingly given in to her demands for something equally downhome and enormous. Mallie’s legacy.

Even with a pre-autumn snowfall the night before, the wedding at Posy’s Grove had gone without a hitch. Thankfully, September was fickle, and warm mountain wind had melted the white stuff into a reasonable amount of mud well before the first wagonload of guests had made the trek.

“I wish you hadn’t nixed Ezra, though, or Buddy.” Dutton’s full gorgeous bottom lip stuck out in a real pout. He pointed to a miniscule blank spot amongst the people. “They could be right there.”

Chelsea snuggled deeper against him. “It’s a great picture anyway. And Ezra gets his fill of photo ops.” Indeed he did, and was scheduled for an appearance at next month’s Harvest Festival in Wayland in support of disabled kids. “And he did great at the Dornfeld Amputee Foundation convention while we were on our honeymoon.”

“Aw, honeymoon. Can’t believe that’s over, too.” Dutton semi-grumbled again. They’d gone back to Brighton. “Now it’s back to the real world. Work.”

Chelsea nodded, her enthusiasm real. “I’m ready. I can’t believe we’re actually breaking ground on the turbines October first. If the weather holds.” She breathed a sigh of relief and sent up a prayer thanking God for strength. The last year had been challenging. Wedding planning. Losing Mallie. Pulling permits for the wind farm, planning access roads and garnering investors for the 150-megawatt project. In between, she’d spent long hours working with Ezra’s rehabilitation and starting up a non-profit foundation for disabled kids called “Ezra’s Riders.”

And Dutton, with the help of Rachel’s developer husband Brayton, had gotten their modular bungalow set down and ready, with native landscaping designed by Kenn’s wife, Christy. With his degree and hard work, Dutton had earned the position as Chief Financial Officer for Double H Wind-Tech Corporation, after selling his land to John Baxter for a fair price.

“I can’t believe John isn’t in the picture.” Dutton teased, as if reading her thoughts.

“All right.” She pursed her lips like a schoolmarm. “I know he made your brown eyes green once or twice during that wagon train. But he’ll always be a good friend to us both. Everything’s turned out so well for everybody.”

Almost too good to be true. Everything. Everybody. After Dutton set the laptop down, he gathered her against his heart. She melted against him, wishing she could stay forever. Blessings covered her like a warm quilt.

“We better get going,” Dutton said finally, “although being in your arms is pretty awesome. But nobody better mess with your ma and Saturday night supper.”

“I’m so glad we got to stay at Hearts Crossing, Dutton. God has led us so well, provided so much,” Chelsea said.

“That He has. I can’t believe all the years I thought I could do it on my own.”

“No looking back. He’s at your side now.” She closed her eyes in a brisk but fervent prayer, then stole a searing kiss. “And so am I.”

“Cross your heart?”

“Cross my heart.”