White lights twinkled from every surface imaginable, strung between fence posts, wrapped around porch railings, and cascading from the ancient oak trees like falling stars. The gazebo that had been used for all of his brother’s weddings, had been draped in flowing white fabric and surrounded by flowers that seemed to have appeared by magic.
Of course, it wasn’t magic. It was the combined efforts of both families working with the efficiency of a military operation and the enthusiasm of people who genuinely loved each other.
“You ready for this?” Colt asked from the doorway, looking uncomfortable in his dress shirt but grinning nonetheless.
Nash turned from the mirror, smoothing his jacket one last time. “More ready than I’ve ever been for anything in my life.”
It was true. In three days, they’d planned and executed a wedding that would have taken most people months to organize.But when you had Ava Stone’s event planning expertise, Kensi’s creative vision, and the combined determination of two families who had just survived a treasure hunt together, apparently miracles were possible.
Not to mention the fact that Lucy and Matt Trevor had flown in from South Port and Lucy was an incredible wedding planner. Plus, all of the Stone friends; Dawn and Trevor Holland, and Oliver and Izzy Browne had all come to help and take part. Plus, Raine and Sarah Birch had wanted to be here.
It was truly a South Port and Cross family reunion.
The ceremony was set for sunset, when the Montana sky would paint itself in shades of gold and pink that would make the perfect backdrop for promising forever to the woman he’d loved for eight years.
“The Stones really outdid themselves,” Nash said, straightening his shoulders. Through the bathroom window, he could see Marshall checking the helicopter that would take them to the airport—their honeymoon flight to Hawaii was scheduled to leave immediately after the reception.
“Don’t sell our women short,” Colt replied with a snort. “Cheyenne’s been running around here like a woman possessed, making sure every detail is perfect for her ‘big brother’s fairy-tale wedding.’”
Nash couldn’t help but smile at that. His baby sister had thrown herself into wedding planning with the same intensity she brought to everything else, determined that Nash and Amy would have the perfect day.
Porter appeared in the doorway behind Colt, looking uncharacteristically emotional in his dress clothes. “Time to go, Nash. Amy’s ready.”
Nash felt his heart skip a beat. After everything they’d been through—the danger, the uncertainty, the years of separation—they were finally here. Finally about to promise each otherforever in front of the families who had fought alongside them, protected them, and loved them.
The walk from the house to the gazebo felt both eternal and instantaneous. Nash was dimly aware of guests taking their seats—friends from Cross Creek, colleagues from the law firm, neighbors who had known the Cross family for generations. But his attention was focused entirely on the white-draped gazebo where Hunter waited with his Bible, ready to perform the ceremony.
The string quartet—somehow Ava had managed to find a string quartet in rural Montana—began the processional music, and Nash’s breath caught in his throat.
First came Cheyenne, radiant in a pale blue dress that matched her eyes, her smile brilliant as she walked down the aisle scattered with rose petals. Behind her came the Stone women—Ava, Kensi, Serenity, Liberty, Kat, and Cheryse—each beautiful in their own way, each beaming with joy for the couple they’d helped rescue and bring together. Then Sierra, Eden, Kelly, and Sadie appeared, completing the wedding party with the kind of natural grace that came from women who had faced danger together and emerged stronger.
But when the music shifted to the “Wedding March” and the guests rose to their feet, Nash forgot how to breathe entirely.
Amy appeared at the end of the aisle, and she was absolutely magnificent. Her dress was simple but elegant—flowing white silk that caught the evening light and moved like water as she walked. Her blonde hair was swept up in an intricate style that Cheryse had spent hours perfecting, with small white flowers tucked throughout. But it was her smile that stopped Nash’s heart—radiant, joyful, completely free of the fear and uncertainty that had shadowed her face when he’d first found her on that mountain trail.
Porter walked beside her, having insisted on the honor of giving her away since her own father couldn’t be there. The sight of his oldest brother’s arm linked with Amy’s, along with the protective care in Porter’s expression, made Nash’s throat tighten with emotion.
When they reached the gazebo, Porter placed Amy’s hand in Nash’s with a solemnity that spoke of sacred trust being passed between them. “Take care of her,” Porter said quietly, just loud enough for Nash to hear.
“Always,” Nash replied, meaning it with every fiber of his being.
Hunter’s voice carried clearly across the gathered crowd as he began the ceremony, speaking about love that endures trials, about finding each other against impossible odds, about the blessing of family that extends beyond blood to include all those who choose to stand together.
Nash heard the words, responding when appropriate, but his attention was focused entirely on Amy’s face. He was fixated on the tears of joy in her green eyes and the way she looked at him like he was her entire world.
When it came time for vows, Nash spoke from his heart. “Amy, I feel like the luckiest man in the world. You’re beautiful, sincere, good. And when I thought I would lose you …” he trailed and a tear rushed down his cheek.
Amy blinked and squeezed his hand.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have, but I made a bargain with God.”
Everyone was quiet.
“I told Him that if he kept you safe, that I would marry you and try my best to make you the happiest woman in the world.”
She let out a light laugh. “You are.” Tears rushed down her cheeks.
He pulled her in and held her for a second. He pulled back. “I love you. I always will. That’s the only vow you need from me.”
