Page 122 of Tracking Safety

Sissy had asked Naomi to keep Grace. There were other details they’d work out later—when Sissy was released from prison. But for now, Grace was Naomi’s.

Luke still hadn’t gotten used to how fast a life could change.

A three-piece band started playing “Make You Feel My Love,” and Good Boy trotted up the aisle right on cue, the rings tied to a velvet cushion strapped to his back. The dog, with his tongue hanging out, looked enormously pleased with the job he’d been given.

He made it halfway before stopping to sniff something in the grass. All the guests laughed while Wyatt jogged out to redirect him the rest of the way.

From the front row, Freya watched Good Boy’s performance from her spot against Cora’s legs. Her ears were up, and she clearly looked unimpressed, as if she’d have carried the rings without stopping to sniff the grass.

Luke watched his brother’s face as the dog finally reached them. Something in his brother finally loosened.

The bridesmaids came next. Naomi and Rowan and two of Millie’s friends from church.

Then the music shifted, and everyone rose at once.

Millie appeared at the front of the aisle.

She wore a white sleeveless gown that accentuated her slim shoulders. Her brown hair was pinned back from her face, and she held a small bouquet of wildflowers Luke recognized from the field behind the kennel.

Beside him, Caleb went still.

His brother didn’t say anything. He simply stood there with his jaw working, his eyes locked on Millie the whole way down the aisle.

When she finally reached Caleb, his brother reached out and took both her hands into his.

“Hi,” Caleb’s voice cracked on the one word.

“Hi.” Happy tears already streamed down Millie’s face.

Pastor Dave said something about love and second chances and the kind of devotion that gets tested by fire and comes out stronger for it. Luke watched his brother’s face the whole time, watched him hang on every word like it had been written just for him.

When it came time for vows, Caleb’s hands shook as he held the small card he’d written on. “I almost lost the chance to say any of this. The truth is, I’m the one who walked away. I was scared, and I let that fear cost us years I can’t get back.” He swallowed. “I’ve spent a long time learning that love isn’t the part that’s hard. Staying is. So that’s what I’m promising you. Not the easy days—those don’t need a promise. I’m promising you the hard ones. I’m not going anywhere, Millie. Not ever again.”

Millie’s vows were shorter, and somehow they hit harder. She talked about how she’d watched Caleb run toward danger for the people he loved more times than she could count, and how she’d decided a long time ago that a man who ran toward fire instead of away from it was a man worth building a whole life around.

Something passed between Luke and Jenna that had nothing to do with this wedding, and everything to do with what they’d built between just the two of them this past month. A month ago she’d been a stranger in his own house, a woman his kids didn’t know how to look at. Now Cora slept against her like she’d never done anything else, and Jenna’s hand moved through Jonah’s hair without her even seeming to notice she was doing it.

Even Liam had come around, in his own careful time. It had taken longer with him—he’d held back the way Luke would have at that age. But a few nights ago Luke had passed the boys’ room, and he’d heard Liam telling his mom about something that had happened at school, the words coming easier than they had in two years.

They were building back their family one ordinary day at a time—a shared cup of coffee at dawn, a hundred small conversations, the slow relearning of each other. None of it had been dramatic. All of it had been everything.

Then the officiant pronounced Caleb and Millie officially married, and Caleb kissed Millie as if he’d been waiting his whole life to do exactly that.

Everyone came up out of their chairs and cheered loud enough to startle every bird off the pond at once.

It was indeed a joyous day—one that everyone in this family needed.

The reception spilled out across the lawn as the sun went gold over the ridge—the same ridge that had been on fire a month ago.

Somewhere near the porch, the band had struck up something slow, and Wyatt was already towing Kori out onto the patch of grass they’d cleared for a dance floor. A few minutes later, both of them were laughing at how badly Wyatt led.

Jenna stood near the food table with a plate she hadn’t touched, watching Freya weave between guests’ legs with her tail going like a metronome set too fast. The dog had been different since the fire—looser, happier, like something in her had finally found a home to settle into.

“She’s like a new dog.” Luke came up beside Jenna with two glasses of lemonade. “You should be proud. Not everybody can fix a traumatized rescue in a month.”

“I didn’t fix her. I just didn’t leave.”

He handed her a glass and didn’t argue the point, though she could tell he wanted to.