Page 41

Six months later, the sanctuary pulsed with quiet celebration.

Spring had come early, melting the last remnants of snow from the ridgelines and painting the fields in bold strokes of green and gold.

Wildflowers dusted the meadows beyond the north trail, the first crocuses peeking shyly from the loam.

The barn smelled of cedar shavings and fresh hay, and the wolves howled softly that morning as if offering their blessing.

The clearing near the edge of the forest, the same one where Olivia had once released the red-tailed hawk, the one where they’d made a memorial garden, among larch saplings planted in her honor, had been transformed into something simple and sacred.

Wooden benches lined a narrow aisle carved into the earth, their edges woven with ribbons and dried lavender.

A handmade arch stood at the far end, wrapped in pine boughs, mountain laurel, and feathers left by sanctuary birds, shed naturally, collected with reverence.

A place made not for grandeur, but for truth.

Inside the small cabin just off the trail, Mason stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the sleeves of his crisp white shirt.

The top button was still undone. His hair had been trimmed that morning, though the wind had already mussed it again.

Behind him, Davey leaned against the doorframe, his jacket slung over one shoulder.

He wore dark gray, the kind that looked better with scuffed boots than polished shoes, and his tie, loosened slightly, matched the sage green Olivia had once loved.

They caught eyes in the mirror.

“You look nervous,” Davey said, grinning.

“I’m not,” Mason replied, though his fingers fumbled with the button again.

Davey stepped forward and helped him, his hands sure. Mason caught his gaze, suddenly still.

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

Davey nodded. “Yeah. I am.”

He looked around the room, sunlight streaming through the open window, the hush of birdsong outside, and then back at his father.

“I was thinking,” Davey said slowly. “I don’t want to go back to college, not ever.”

Mason’s brows lifted. “Then stay?”

“I will. I want to make sure the sanctuary thrives. For Mom. For Livvy. For you and Natalie. It feels like... this is where I’m meant to be. I know Mom hoped maybe I’d find another college, try again, but my destiny is here, not in a lecture hall.”

Mason’s throat tightened. He hadn’t expected that. But maybe he should have.

He placed a hand on Davey’s shoulder. “You sure?”

Davey nodded, his voice soft. “I want to keep what she built alive. I think she’d want that, too.”

Mason smiled, slow and quiet, and reached forward to pull his son into a hug. It wasn’t awkward this time. It was full-bodied, honest. A father and a son, holding each other in the aftermath of loss, and the bloom of something lasting .

“I’m proud of you,” Mason murmured.

Davey swallowed. “I know. And I’m proud of you too.”

They stood there for a moment longer, the sound of the trees swaying outside, the faint murmur of guests arriving.

Then Davey stepped back, smoothing his jacket. “You ready?”

Mason looked out the window toward the clearing, where Natalie was just stepping out of the lodge in a flowing, pale cream dress.

Her hair had been pinned back with delicate twists of wildflowers, and in her arms, Livvy gurgled in a soft cotton romper, a daisy tucked behind one tiny ear.

The baby waved her fists like she already knew what the day was.

Mason drew in a breath. He turned to Davey and smiled.

“Ready.”

Mason stepped outside the cabin as the guests began to take their seats.

The clearing beyond was bathed in light.

Wild birds called to one another overhead.

The air was rich with the scent of fresh pine, budding earth, and lilac from the bush that had miraculously bloomed early beside the path.

He waited beneath the archway, hands loose at his sides, heart pounding a steady, reverent beat.

He didn’t feel nervous anymore. Just... full.

Of love. Of memory. Of the quiet promise that they had all survived the darkest night and come into morning.

And then, just at the edge of the clearing, Davey appeared.

Natalie stood beside him, radiant in her simple cream dress, Livvy cradled gently in her arms, wrapped in a blanket stitched from pieces of Olivia’s favorite flannel shirts.

A wreath of wildflowers crowned her head, and sunlight poured across her shoulders like a blessing.

Davey looked down at her, and for a moment, emotion caught in his throat.

He cleared it gently, then leaned close and said, “You ready, Mom Two? ”

Natalie turned to him slowly, her eyes wide with surprise, then warmth. Her lips trembled just enough for a single tear to slide down her cheek.

She reached up, brushing her hand along his jaw. “That might be the greatest honor of my life.”

He smiled, swallowing hard. “Come on then.”

The music began, strings low and reverent. And together, they walked.

Natalie’s feet moved in rhythm with Davey’s steps, her arm threaded through his.

Livvy blinked sleepily at the soft hum of melody, one fist curled beneath her chin.

The guests rose in quiet, watching as the three of them made their way down the narrow aisle between the benches, past the larch tree planted in Olivia’s honor, past the faces of the people who had carried them through every fracture and fire.

Mason stood at the front, his heart expanding with every step she took. And when Natalie lifted her gaze to meet his, everything else faded. There was no pain left in her eyes.

Only love in their hearts. And the wild.

The End