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It's not. The muscles burn like I ran back-to-back marathons. It'll take more than aspirin to keep it from cramping up overnight, but I'm not about to mention that to Angel right now. It was worth it. Just like all the work I'll be doing in the future to keep improving so I can show her more ways I can make her come is going to be worth it.
"It'll be fine, Angel." I bring her closer, till her head is resting on my chest, loving the way her body feels as she wraps her arm over me.
"You sure you want to be stuck with a busted old man for the rest of your life?"
"I'm not the one freaking out about a dance."
My eyes drift up to the wood planks that line the peaked ceiling above us. My brain going back over all the ways I might never be whole again. So many little things that other people take for granted that I might never do again-- like dance at my own damn wedding.
Kissing the top of Robin's head, I find myself smiling in spite of my worries.
Thinking about what I learned from my grandmother tonight-- not to mention the hell I caught from my baby sister-- I reach up to the nightstand without letting go of Robin and grab the little box I almost locked away in the safe forever.
"You deserve better, Angel," I tell her as I open the thing with one hand. "You should have gotten the whole speech, all the people applauding for you-- hell, you deserve a man who can get down on one knee to do the asking but..."
Robin's hand is already in the air, fingers spread out, waiting impatiently.
"Just put the damn ring on my finger, Mesa," she says. "You know damn well I'm going to marry you."
Sliding the ring onto her finger, I meet her eager lips for the kiss she's offering me.
I'm going to spend the rest of my life making sure she doesn't regret this.
EPILOGUE 1
Six Months Later
Robin
We've been pronounced man and wife, our friends and family have doused us in bubbles-- which seemed a better option than birdseed for our mid-January, indoor wedding-- and Mesa's brothers have suffered through the formal photos in the tuxedos that were quickly changed out for jeans and flannels as soon as the reception started.
My husband, however, is still looking like the sexiest mountain man in Moonshine Ridge in his classic black and white tux that perfectly complements my contemporary gown.
He even trimmed his beard for the occasion; and by "trimmed," I mean he let the barber even-up the ends and ran a comb through it.
Not being able to go out on the line anymore means he's been able to grow his beard out much longer and fuller than when we were active on the crew.
Mesa's still working full time with the Moonshine Ridge fire department; he's training volunteers and even helping with the paperwork. We both thought he'd hate driving a desk, but it turns out that he enjoys the process of running the station from the other side of an ax and a shovel.
It was never my plan to be a full-time firefighter. I'd only come up to work on the Moonshine Ridge crew for the summer for the experience to help with my conservation degree.
I'll be graduating this spring and I'm excited to start working with the local wildland inspector-- AKA, my brother-in-law, Osprey-- later this summer.
"You ready?" I ask Mesa as we walk onto the dance floor together.
The hall goes silent around us while everyone waits for the music to begin.
Mesa uses his free hand to whirl me into position so that we're facing each other. He gives me a nod that's far more confident than the look in his eyes.
We both look toward Terra, who scurries up to us and takes the cane from Mesa when he hands it to her.
There's an audible ripple of gasps and sighs and a smattering of light applause through the hall as the first bars of our song come through the speakers.
Mesa wraps me in his arms and we dance.
It's not a waltz or anything with fancy choreography to wow the crowd, but we did practice it for months.
Just standing together and swaying gently while we shuffle our feet in no particular pattern at all.
