“I did. It wouldn’t be a party without the partiers.”
I look at the piles of weeds and tools I’ve assembled. “I had big plans for this garden, but I guess I could throw in the towel for a party.”
Fitz pulls me to his side and kisses the top of my head. “The party is out here. Why d’you think I brought so much ice cream?”
When I look up, the family members are gone. A minute later, they all file out the back door of the house, each of them holding gardening tools or bags or small potted herbs. “Let’sgrow some shit!” Chad calls, hustling my sisters along with him and carrying a pitchfork.
“You are the most amazing person,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around Fitz’s neck.
“Back atcha, Duchess. The feeling’s mutual.”
EPILOGUE
Tessa
One YearLater
It’s beenan entire weekend of roasts and toasts, but when Chad holds up a glass of sparkling apple juice and talks about how Fitz saved his life, every person in the room is wiping away tears.
“Hey, this is supposed to be a happy occasion. Quit killing the vibe,” Fitz teases, pushing his chair back and walking up to where Chad stands in front of the band with a microphone.
“To Tessa and this knucklehead,” Chad says, raising his glass right before Fitz bear hugs his brother and claps him on the back. Dylan crouches next to me at our sweetheart table to examine my makeup, which she’s been doing the entire day. She sweeps some pressed powder over my cheeks and forehead and dabs a tear from the corner of my eye.
“Waterproof mascara, who’s got your back?” She high-fives me and clinks her champagne glass against mine. I lift mine, and we each take a sip.
My head and heart feel as fizzy as the pale bubbly liquid in the glass. It’s been such a perfect day, starting with my sisters and Grandma Ann crowding into my room at Loveland, along with my closest college friends, to gossip, snack on cheese and fruit, and have our makeup done.
Our wedding ceremony in the late afternoon sun felt like it was brushed with gold, and when Fitz and I had our first married couple kiss, my heart never felt so full.
“All of you,” I say, so grateful that my sisters brought their A game this weekend and no one has argued about anything. At least not in front of me. “Thank you for helping me plan this day.”
“Are you kidding? It was the icing on the wedding cake. I’ve had so much fun with the design of this place.”
In the year since we approved the architect’s plans and started renovating Loveland Ranch, the place has become almost unrecognizable. Dylan’s design skills are next level, but the biggest change came when we added twelve guest bungalows on the property and turned a barn into a banquet hall. My wedding is the first of what will hopefully be a whole host of destination weddings and bachelorette weekends for city gals like me who crave a little time on a ranch.
Callie plans to spend a month here photographing everything, starting our social media outreach, and trying to get influencers to come out and sample our weekend packages.
“It’s really gorgeous. You’re so talented,” I say. Dylan turns away, but I’m pretty sure I catch her blushing.
The barn is full to capacity with our family members and friends. I’ve met so many people in the year since I moved up here, including the brothers of Fitz’s friend Anthony, who works at the Hitching Post. Somehow, Fitz never mentioned them, and they work longer hours than he does on a cattle ranch down the road, but coincidentally, they started stopping by to check on thebuilding progress here at Loveland once Dylan started driving up to work on the place.
I catch the oldest, Trey, staring at her from across the room and give her a nudge. “You have an admirer.”
She glances at Trey and immediately turns a brighter shade of pink. “Not. Interested. Last thing I need in my life is a cowboy.”
“Ha,” I blurt. “Pretty sure I said the same thing about Fitz and look at where we are now.” “Look, indeed,” Fitz says, his large hand wrapping around my hip and lifting me from my chair to dance with him. The band launches into a slow song, and as I drape my forearm over Fitz’s neck, he locks eyes with me. “Duchess…look at us.”
“We’re a married couple.” I nod at him, impressed at how far we’ve come. Grandma Ann and Gramps dance a few feet away, turning in a slow circle, formal in their box step. “You think we’ll still be dancing when we’re their age.”
“Oh yeah.” Fitz dips me, and my hair skims the floor. I clutch his arms, afraid he’ll drop me, but he brings me back up and wraps me in his arms. “I would never.”
“Not intentionally,” I correct.
“Not ever. That’s something you can count on, Duchess. I will never let you fall.”
“Good man,” Grandma Ann says, overhearing us as Gramps sweeps her past us.
“A promise is a promise.”
