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"Places, everyone!" Betty calls out, appearing in a flurry of sage green silk and nervous energy. As my unofficial wedding coordinator, she's been running on pure adrenaline and coffee for the past week. "Molly, you ready, sweetheart?"

I nod, though my heart is hammering against my ribs.

Not from nerves about marrying Beau—that's the easiest decision I've ever made.

But from the knowledge that in about five minutes, I'm going to see him standing at the altar, probably looking like every fantasy I've ever had about the perfect man.

"Remember," Etta calls from her position near the flower arrangements, "when the music starts, you walk slow. Let people see that dress!"

"And don't forget to smile!" Mabel adds, practically bouncing with excitement.

Maisie appears in a cloud of pale pink tulle, clutching her flower basket like it contains the crown jewels.

"Aunt Molly!" She squeaks with hearts for eyes. "You look like a princess! A real one!"

"You look pretty beautiful yourself, sunshine," I tell her, straightening the flower crown that took Sienna an hour to perfect. "Ready to show everyone how it's done?"

"I've been practicing!" she announces proudly. "Watch!"

She demonstrates her flower-scattering technique, sending rose petals flying in every direction. But I'm soon distracted by the string quartet starting the processional with their first perfectly strung notes, and my stomach does a little flip.

"That's our cue," Sienna says, giving me one last hug. "I love you, Mol. You deserve every bit of happiness coming your way."

I watch as she glides down the aisle in her maid of honor dress, followed by Maisie, who takes her flower girl duties so seriously she's practically marching in formation.

Then the music changes to the wedding march, and suddenly it's time.

I step into view, and the collective gasp from our guests makes my cheeks warm.

I scan the faces that have become my family. Betty dabs her eyes with a handkerchief, nudging me forward.

Charlie from the tavern nods approvingly as I see Linda mouth "gorgeous" from the third row. Even Sheriff Cooper looks misty-eyed beneath his usual stoicism.

Six months ago, I was running from my life. Now I'm running toward it.

Stone River Mountain isn't just where I landed when my car broke down.

It's where I finally found myself.

And there at the end of the aisle stands Beau.

My mountain man, my rescuer, my home. His eyes lock onto mine with such intensity that everything else blurs away.

He looks devastatingly handsome in his suit, a single tear tracking down his cheek. His dark hair is perfectly styled, his beard trimmed and combed, and when his steel-gray eyes meet mine, his entire face transforms.

The man who barely smiled when I first met him is now grinning.

And the sight is even more beautiful than my dress.

I start down the aisle, and with every step, I fall in love with him all over again. The way he's standing so straight and proud. The way his hands are clasped behind his back like he's fighting not to reach for me. The way he's staring at me like I'm the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

Halfway down the aisle, I catch Jamie wiping his eyes, and our colleagues from Mountain Rescue all giving Beau an enthusiastic thumbs up.

The entire town is here, dressed in their finest, beaming with the kind of genuine joy you can't fake.

When I reach the altar, Beau steps forward and takes my hands, and I swear I can feel the electricity between us even through my silk gloves.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear.