Chapter Twenty -One: A Town Called Love

The news of Jack and Ellie's engagement spread through Dalton faster than a storm on the open prairie. By the next morning, the diner had a handwritten sign on its chalkboard: "Congratulations, Jack & Ellie—Coffee's on the house for the happy couple!"

Ellie couldn't stop smiling, not even when Jack's mother launched into a spirited monologue about proper wedding etiquette at Sunday supper.

"We'll do it our way," Ellie whispered later, when they were alone, barefoot in the kitchen with candles glowing and a pie cooling on the windowsill.

Their way turned out to be a wedding planned slowly, with intention and heart.

They chose the town square, beneath the big oak that had watched over generations of stories. Ellie picked wildflowers for her bouquet, and her dress was a soft vintage thing she found at a local antique shop, altered by hand. Jack wore his best shirt and the same boots he fixed tractors in—cleaned up, but still his.

The whole town chipped in. Clara from the bakery baked the cake—lemon with lavender frosting. Mr. Hendricks brought his fiddle. Even Miss Ruth, who hadn't left her house in years, came to the ceremony, seated in a borrowed rocking chair.

When the day arrived, the sun rose gently, as if it too had been invited. Ellie walked down an aisle lined with mason jars and field daisies, her heart steady.

Jack stood beneath the oak tree, the same place he'd asked her to marry him, his eyes never leaving hers.

They spoke their vows from memory.

"I promise not just to love you," Jack said, "but to see you, even when life gets blurry."

Ellie touched his face. "And I promise to build a life with you—not perfect, but honest, and filled with laughter, even when we're old and grumbling."

The town cheered as they kissed. It wasn't a lavish wedding. It wasn't grand. But it was rooted deep—in love, in home, and in the shared hearts of a small town that had watched two people find their way.

That night, as they lay in bed, the sounds of the after-party still drifting through the windows, Ellie looked over at her husband and whispered, "We did it."

Jack smiled. "Yeah. And I'd do it all again. The long look. The waiting. All of it."

Outside, Dalton slept under the stars. But in one small house with creaky floors and wildflowers on the nightstand, love stayed very much awake.