They exchanged quick greetings and moved into the space where Annie directed before she stepped to one side, lifted her violin, and began to play the first delicate notes of Canon in D Major. The melody floated through the trees like spun gold.
Then Capri appeared.
She stepped barefoot into the clearing, her white eyelet Gunne Sax dress fluttering around her ankles. The delicate sleeves clung to her arms, and the skirt swayed with each quiet step. Her blonde hair loosely cascaded around her shoulders, adorned with tiny white asters and sprigs of lavender, as if she’d gathered wildflowers from the fields that morning and had woven them in.
She looked radiant. Untamed. Exactly like herself.
Jake’s breath visibly caught as she came toward him, her eyes locked on his. The girlfriends stood side by side, too moved to speak. Reva reached out and hooked pinkies with Lila. Charlie Grace swiped at her cheek and muttered something about how beautiful Capri looked.
Pastor Pete cleared his throat, then smiled at the tiny gathering. “We weren’t given much notice,” he said warmly, “but when love taps you on the shoulder and says now, it’s best not to keep it waiting.”
Capri gave a soft laugh that trembled at the edges.
Jake reached for her hands, cradling them in his own.
Pete’s words fell gently into the hush—about trust and timing, and the beauty of choosing one another, not just once, but again and again. Capri’s eyes shimmered, and when Jake repeated his vows, slow and sure, her chin trembled.
When it was her turn, she didn’t read from a paper. She just looked up at him and whispered, “You’re the calm in my storm. And the one place I never expected to feel safe. But I do.”
Tears tracked silently down Lila’s face. Reva blinked fast, failing miserably at holding it together. Charlie Grace didn’t even try.
Pete smiled. “By the power vested in me, and witnessed by the people who matter most, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Jake—you may kiss your bride.”
Jake pulled Capri into his arms and kissed her like a man who never intended to let go.
And just like that, under a willow arch and the blush of fall flowers, Capri Jacobs—wild, bossy, broken, and brave—became a wife.
19
Word of Capri’s surprise wedding spread through Thunder Mountain faster than spring melt on the Snake River. By Monday morning, it was all anyone could talk about—at the post office, the feed store, even during Pastor Pete’s sermon, where he’d barely made it to the benediction without veering into a reflection on love and willow arches.
Everyone had an opinion—from Nicola Cavendish, who claimed she “just knew something was brewing,” to Albie Barton, who declared it the most romantic thing since the barn dance of ’97. Capri, of course, refused to indulge the fuss, but the glint in her eye said she didn’t mind one bit.
Despite her usual resistance to being the center of attention, Capri finally caved under the relentless pressure from her girlfriends—and maybe a little coaxing from Jake. She agreed to a celebration at the Rustic Pine, insisting on “simple and low-key,” which everyone promptly ignored.
Annie Cumberland cleared the back room, stringing white lights across the beams and hauling out mason jars filled with wildflowers. The Knit Wit ladies volunteered to bake pies, Pastor Pete promised a toast that wouldn’t make her squirm, and even Clancy Rivers offered to play a song or two on his harmonica—though no one could remember the last time he’d played in key.
The moment Jake pushed open the door to the Rustic Pine, warm light and laughter spilled onto the front porch like a welcome mat. Capri stepped inside beside him, and the room erupted.
“Woooooo! That’s our girl!” hollered Pastor Pete from behind the bar. He wore his signature denim apron over a button-up shirt and raised a glass as the applause swelled.
Annie, cheeks flushed and curls bouncing, stood on top of a wooden crate near the jukebox and let out a piercing whistle. “All right, settle down now! Newlyweds comin’ through!”
The crowd parted like the Red Sea, revealing faces Capri had known her whole life.
Charlie Grace was waving a cloth napkin in the air like she was at a rodeo. “Well look at you, Mrs. Carrington!” she called with a grin.
Capri blushed as Jake took her hand and led her in. “I don’t think I’ve ever been applauded for entering a bar before,” she murmured.
“Guess there’s a first time for everything,” Jake said, giving her hand a squeeze.
Oma stood near the back, holding a platter of deviled eggs with one hand and dabbing her eyes with a tissue in the other. “I knew it,” she whispered to no one in particular. “I just knew love would find her.”
Lila elbowed her way to the front with a tray of lemon bars. “You look radiant,” she said, handing one to Capri before taking a bite of her own. “And I don’t use that word lightly.”
“I think it’s the barefoot bride thing,” Reva chimed in, appearing beside her in a flowy purple dress, holding her son Lucan on her hip. “Totally your brand.”
“Y’all, give them room!” Annie said again, leaping down from her crate and ushering Capri and Jake toward the center of the room. “We’ve got a night to remember planned.”
