Autumn arrived in full. The hills around Dalton glowed in copper and crimson. The mornings held a chill that made coffee taste better, kisses last longer, and flannel all the more essential.
Ellie stood in the town square on a Saturday morning, camera slung over her shoulder, notebook tucked under her arm. She had been asked to help with the local historical society's fall exhibit—a celebration of Dalton's past. But more than that, it was a sign that she had become part of the story here.
Ruthie joined her with two cups of cider. "So... Mr. Lane asked if I'd like to go with him to the Harvest Dance."
Ellie raised an eyebrow. "You say yes?"
"I said maybe. I figured I'd ask you first."
"Ruthie!" Ellie laughed. "You don't need my permission."
"No, but I think I needed your example."
Meanwhile, Jack was fixing up an old truck that had belonged to his father. It hadn't run in ten years, and Ellie had seen him tinkering with it more than usual.
"Planning something?" she teased, peeking into the garage.
Jack wiped grease from his hands. "Just figured if this thing can run again, maybe it's time it took someone special for a ride."
The Harvest Dance arrived with music, laughter, and strings of glowing lights. Jack wore a suit jacket that hadn't seen daylight in years. Ellie wore a soft, flowing dress and boots.
They danced slowly beneath the stars, surrounded by the people who had once watched them from afar but now cheered them on.
Later that night, parked on a quiet hilltop in the newly restored truck, Jack reached into his pocket.
"Ellie."
She turned toward him, heart skipping.
He opened a small velvet box—not with a ring, but with a locket inside. Inside it, a photo of her—taken the day she arrived. And opposite it, a quote handwritten in neat, steady ink: "The long look was all it took."
"I'll ask you properly when the time's right," Jack said. "But until then, wear this and know: I'm not going anywhere."
Ellie held it close to her heart. "You already asked. And I already said yes."