Page 19 of Friends are Forever (Teton Mountain #6)

C apri stirred beneath the quilt, the morning sun slipping through the cracks in the blinds and warming her bare shoulder. She reached for Jake, but her hand met only cool sheets. A sigh whispered from her lips—half disappointment, half curiosity. She sat up, brushing her hair out of her face.

And then she saw it.

A tray rested on the bedside table, carefully balanced and waiting.

Two cinnamon rolls glistened under a soft drizzle of icing, and next to them sat a tall glass of orange juice, already beading with condensation.

A small white vase held a single sunflower—bright, cheerful, and unapologetically bold.

Just like Jake.

Her breath caught, then released in a soft, surprised laugh. She traced the rim of the glass with one finger, her gaze landing on the sunflower. She didn’t need grand gestures. This was enough. This was everything.

Her phone rested on the nightstand; screen dark until she picked it up. An idea bloomed—quick and unpolished, the way most good ones were. With her thumb, she tapped out a short message.

“Hey. I just had a crazy idea. Want to get married this weekend?”

She stared at the message for half a beat longer, then tapped Send before she could overthink it.

Then she waited.

The early morning sun spilled across the paddock as Charlie Grace leaned on the fence rail and watched Jewel climb on the school bus at the end of the lane.

In the corral, the horses moved lazily, tails swishing at flies, and somewhere behind her, Clancy’s radio played an old country tune through the open window.

She gave a wave to Donna Hatfield, the bus drive before climbing down and heading for the house.

On the way, her phone buzzed in her jeans back pocket.

She pulled it out, shielding the screen from the glare.

“It’s my turn to host this Friday night. Be at my house. Six o’clock sharp.”

A smile curved her lips. Capri was back, all business and no room for excuses.

At the same time, Lila stood at the counter at the clinic, sipping coffee from her travel mug while reviewing the day’s appointments.

The clinic was quiet in that rare, golden window before the day began—no ringing phones, no barking dogs, just the hum of the mini fridge and the distant sound of Whit moving around in the back.

Her phone lit up beside the keyboard. She tapped the screen and read the message. “It’s my turn to host this Friday night. Be at my house. Six o’clock sharp.”

She smiled, setting down the mug. There was nothing she loved more than time with her girlfriends.

Reva stood in front of the community center bulletin board, a fresh stack of flyers in one hand and a roll of painter’s tape in the other. Lucan darted across the hallway, making truck noises with a paper cup.

Her phone buzzed inside her blazer pocket. She fished it out and scanned the incoming text.

“It’s my turn to host this Friday night. Be at my house. Six o’clock sharp.”

Reva arched a brow, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Well, well,” she murmured to herself, clicking off the phone. “Capri playing hostess and barking orders? Business as usual.”

Tires crunched along the gravel as the three vehicles paraded down Capri’s lane and pulled into her yard. One by one, Lila, Charlie Grace, and Reva stepped out, the crisp mountain air tugging at their jackets as they headed for the porch.

Charlie Grace adjusted the hem of her flannel shirt. “What are the odds there’s anything edible involved?”

Lila laughed. “If Capri ordered takeout, I’ll count it as progress.”

“I brought wine,” Reva added, holding up a bag. “Because even if she did cook, we might need it.”

The front door creaked open, and to their surprise, Annie Cumberland stepped onto the porch, her cheeks pink with excitement. “Ladies,” she called with a twinkle in her eye, “this way, please. To the backyard.”

The trio exchanged puzzled glances, but there was no time to ask questions. Annie was already disappearing around the corner of the house, motioning for them to keep up.

They trailed after her, steps quickening with each stride. But nothing—not the casual text, not the breezy invitation—could’ve prepared them for what they saw when they turned the corner.

They stopped cold.

Charlie Grace actually gasped. “What in the...”

Lila blinked as if she’d walked into the wrong yard. “Is that?—?”

“Oh, my Lord,” Reva breathed. “She’s getting married .”

A simple arch made of twisted willow branches stood near the edge of the garden, its natural curve softened with sprays of golden mums, ivory ranunculus, rust-colored zinnias, and deep burgundy dahlias.

Clusters of baby’s breath and seeded eucalyptus were tucked between the blooms, giving it an unstudied elegance—like something you might stumble upon in a fairy tale.

Charlie Grace blinked hard. “No way.”

Lila covered her mouth. “Oh my gosh...”

Reva whispered, “I never suspected this.”

At the base of the arch, Jake stood with his hands folded in front of him. He wore jeans and cowboy boots, a clean button-up under a simple jacket. No tie. No fuss. Just calm, quiet confidence—and eyes searching the path for only one person.

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.