“I love that you’re both planning my wedding,” Isabel said with a laugh. “And I definitely want to be somewhere near the lake when we get married. But we haven’t made any other plans. All I know is that Sapphire Bay and the people who live here are special to us. We want to pay tribute to everyone who’s welcomed us into their lives.”
A warmth spread through Lynda’s chest at Isabel’s words. The same feeling had been growing in her own heart—the sense that Sapphire Bay wasn’t just a place she’d moved to, but a place where she truly belonged.
“To new beginnings,” Lynda said, raising her iced tea glass in a toast.
“To love finding us when we least expect it,” Kathleen added, joining the toast.
“And to friendship that sees us through everything,” Isabel concluded, her voice thick with emotion.
As they clinked glasses, Lynda looked at these two remarkable women who’d become such an important part of her life. A year ago, she could never have imagined sitting in her own home in Montana, surrounded by friends who felt like family, and planning a future filled with such hope and possibility.
With a sigh, she realized that life had a way of leading you exactly where you needed to be—even when you thought you were completely lost.
CHAPTER 31
Five months later...
Matt stoodin the main corridor of the new Paws of Hope Animal Shelter and Wildlife Rehabilitation Center, still amazed that it was real. The facility stretched out before him like something from a dream. Large examination rooms, state-of-the-art surgical suites, and specialized housing units had been designed for everything from tiny songbirds to large raptors.
“I can’t believe we’re actually here,” Lynda said softly from beside him. Her voice was filled with wonder as she gazed through the large windows that overlooked the nearly completed wolfdog habitat.
Matt followed her gaze to where Star and her four siblings were exploring their new permanent home. It was a sprawling enclosure that perfectly balanced their wild heritage with the educational mission of the center. The habitat featured natural rock formations, a small stream, and plenty of space for the adolescent wolfdogs to roam and explore.
“Patrick and his team have worked miracles,” Matt replied as he watched the construction workers finish the visitorwalkway that would allow guests to observe the animals without disturbing them. “Without them, we’d still be looking at another year of construction.”
The decision to use prefabricated modules had been brilliant. Each unit was custom-built for specific wildlife needs, then transported and assembled on-site by the same crew that had constructed the tiny homes at the old steamboat museum. Patrick Devlin’s expertise in modular construction had proven invaluable, and his dedication to the project had gone far beyond professional obligation.
“Mom would have loved this,” Stephanie said, appearing at Matt’s elbow with her children in tow. She’d driven up from Missoula for the open house, bringing Lily and Ethan to see the facility they’d heard so much about.
“She would have,” Matt agreed, his throat tightening slightly. “She always said we needed better facilities for wildlife cases.”
Lily pressed her face against the glass partition that separated them from a recovering great horned owl. “Grandpa, when will she be able to fly again?”
“In another week or two,” Matt replied, moving to stand behind his granddaughter. “Her wing fracture is healing beautifully, thanks to the specialized care we can provide here.”
Ethan frowned. “How do you keep the animal houses warm?”
Lynda crouched down to his level, her face lighting up with the enthusiasm she always showed when discussing their work. “Each enclosure has its own climate system. See those vents up there? They can create everything from desert conditions for certain reptiles to the cool, moist environment that frogs and other amphibians need.”
The sound of approaching voices drew Matt’s attention to the entrance. Members of the community were beginning to arrive for the open house. Mayor Wilson led the way, followed by Carol, Brenda, and what looked like half of Sapphire Bay.
“The place is incredible,” Mayor Wilson announced, his voice carrying the pride of someone who’d championed the project from the beginning. “This facility is one of the best in Montana for wildlife conservation. I’ve already had inquiries from other states about partnering with us.”
Carol bustled over, carrying a clipboard and wearing the slightly frazzled expression of someone coordinating a major event. “Matt, the local news crew wants to interview you in about ten minutes. And the representative from the state wildlife department would like a tour of the raptor facilities.”
“Of course,” Matt said, though part of him was reluctant to leave Lynda’s side. They’d worked so hard to reach this moment, and he wanted to savor it with her.
As if reading his thoughts, Lynda squeezed his arm gently. “Go do your interviews. I’ll handle the technical tours. We can meet up later.”
The next hour passed in a whirlwind of handshakes, photographs, and detailed explanations of the center’s capabilities. Matt described the same features repeatedly—the surgical suite that rivaled any human hospital, the quarantine facilities that could handle everything from rabies exposure to exotic diseases, and the educational classroom where school groups would learn about wildlife conservation.
Through it all, he was acutely aware of the small velvet box in his jacket pocket. He’d been carrying it for three weeks, waiting for the perfect moment to propose to Lynda. Tonight felt right. They were surrounded by everything they’d built together, with the community celebrating their shared vision.
But every time he thought he’d found a quiet moment, someone else approached with questions or congratulations.
“Matt!” Brenda appeared at his elbow, her eyes bright with excitement. “Pastor John is here, and he’d like to give a blessingfor the facility. I asked Lynda if she wanted to say something before John spoke, but she asked if you could do it.”
Matt glanced around the crowded main corridor, taking in the faces of people who’d supported them through the fire and the months of rebuilding. Tommy stood near the wolfdog habitat with Frank and Isabel, his notebook out as he documented everything for what had become an ongoing school project. Kathleen and Patrick were examining the volunteer coordination center; their heads bent together in quiet conversation. Amy had arrived that morning and was deep in discussion with Stephanie.
