Take Me Higher by Pamela Clare

Epilogue

May 28

Rain and Sashapinned the wreath of pink roses, pine, and baby’s breath in Megs’ hair, Megs standing with her back to the mirror.

Rain took the last bobby pin from her mouth. “Are you nervous?”

“Not really.” Okay, maybe she was a little nervous. She didn’t want to screw up her vows in front of everyone. “Mitch and I have been together for forty-nine years today, so it’s not like I have to worry about what our life will look like.”

Rain laughed, adjusted the wreath. “I guess not.”

“It’s your anniversary?” Sasha leaned around from behind Megs, bobby pins between her fingers, a bright smile on her face. “That’s so cool!”

“I arrived in Yosemite Valley on this day forty-nine years ago.” Thanks to the journal, Megs’ memories were as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. “Gridwall tried to hit on me, and though I handled it myself, Mitch came down on him.”

Sasha put the extra bobby pins back in their case. “I wish I’d been there in those days. It must have been the best time ever.”

Megs couldn’t help seeing herself in Sasha. They’d both been sports climbing world champions, after all. “You would have owned the Valley.”

Rain stepped back. “Okay. You’re all done.”

A knock.

Rose poked her head inside. “I just wanted to see the bride. Oh. That’s what you’re wearing to your wedding? I saw that on the rack at Target.”

Megs couldn’t help but laugh at Rose’s disappointment. “You don’t approve?”

Megs had refused to spend money on some ridiculous wedding dress that she would never wear again, opting instead for a pretty white sundress with spaghetti straps and white sandals. Given that she rarely wore anything but jeans, this was going all out.

“Well…” For a moment, Rose was unusually bereft of words. “It is you.”

“It is.” Megs was pretty sure that was an insult, but to be truthful, she really didn’t care how she looked or what people thought of her. She wasn’t a shopper, and she’d never understood the fuss some women made over the superficial stuff—clothes, makeup, handbags, shoes, jewelry. It meant nothing to her.

Climbing gear, on the other hand…

Yeah, okay. Maybe she was a shopper.

Sasha kissed her cheek. “I think you look hot.”

Rain handed her the bouquet. “You look beautiful, and the dress is perfect.”

“Yes, of course, she’s beautiful,” Rose agreed. “All brides are beautiful.”

“Thanks.” Megs turned to face the mirror.

In a blink, her life seemed to rush across her reflection. She saw the sixteen-year-old who’d fallen in love with Mitch, the young woman who’d finally taken him as her lover, the climber who’d touched the top of the world.

She saw Mitch, too—young and strong, fighting his attraction to her, making love to her, seizing all of the adventure he could with her, carrying her through life.

The vision, if that’s what it was, lasted only a moment, memories seeming to slide across the glass, making her throat go tight. Now she was about to marry Mitch, all of their shared experiences coming together in a special celebration.

The vision faded, leaving her shaken in the best possible way. She cleared her throat. “Well, let’s get on with it.”

Rain and Sasha laughed.

“You are the least fussy bride ever.” Rain reached for her handbag. “For a while, I thought you weren’t going to let me talk you into flowers.”

“I know you said no gifts, but I wanted to offer you two a couple’s tarot reading for free anytime. I’ve always thought Mitch had such Charioteer energy—so in control of his physical and emotional drives. And you Megs, maybe Star energy—a light in the darkness, offering hope to others, though you’re pretty bossy. It would be fun to see what the cards say.”

“That’s a very generous gift, Rose. Thank you.” Megs knew Rose meant well. “Thanks, too, for helping to raise money for Mitch with your … craft.”

Rose’s face lit up. “It was the least I could do. See you up there.”

Megs, Sasha, and Rain left the house and climbed into Rain’s SUV for the trip up to Caribou, white ribbons and flowers tied to the vehicle’s grill. Once the site of a mining camp, Caribou was now a wide-open meadow that was ablaze with wildflowers each spring. With the white-capped Indian Peaks in the background, it was one of the most scenic spots around Scarlet and was featured on a lot of postcards.

The drive didn’t take long—ten minutes tops. Cars were parked along the dirt road, chairs set out in neat rows for their guests, the center aisle leading to a low stage with a sound system and two enormous standing rose bouquets. Mitch stood beside Kurt, Gridwall, and Accardo near the stage, dressed in a nice pair of khakis with a white shirt and a tan waistcoat.

Damn, he was hot.

He saw the SUV and walked over to help Megs out, his gaze raking over her, his expression telling her he wasn’t disappointed. “I think I like you in dresses.”

He kissed her cheek.

“No kissing yet!” Sasha admonished them.

Mitch chuckled. “I suppose she’s right.”

While guests took their seats, the two of them stood back by the vehicles, waiting for the cue to start down the aisle. They’d decided to do what a lot of couples did in Europe and walk down the aisle together. It was their wedding, after all. They could do whatever the hell they liked.

Mitch took her hand, looked at her engagement ring. “Why didn’t I propose forty years ago?”

“Probably because you knew I’d say no.”

They laughed because they both knew it was true. It wasn’t that Megs hadn’t loved him or wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, but at that point, she’d viewed marriage as a silly social convention and weddings as a waste of money.

His brown eyes looked into hers. “What changed?”

“I did.”

It was hard to fathom that eight months ago, he’d been in a coma. His speech was more or less normal now. He still got terrible headaches once in a while, and he had some residual short-term memory problems. But he had worked hard to reach this point.

Gridwall ran up to them. “They’re almost ready. God, I’m nervous.”

“Why are you nervous?” Megs had to ask.

“I’ve never been a bridesman before.”

Gridwall was standing with Megs as her bridesman, while Accardo was Mitch’s groomsman. The two were charged with carrying the rings—and making sure neither of them forgot their vows. Unfortunately, Cook hadn’t been able to come, as the date had conflicted with his oldest grandson’s high school graduation.

Music began to play.

Gridwall kissed Megs and Mitch on the cheeks. “See you two at the altar.”

Mitch took Megs’ arm. “Are you ready?”

“After forty-nine years?” She laughed. “I’m more than ready.”

Mitch walked up the aisle,proud to have Megs on his arm, blue sky above them, wildflowers at their feet. Bach’s Air on a G String drifted over the speakers as their friends stood, smiles on their faces. Most of Scarlet Springs had gathered to celebrate with them, some folks in chairs, the rest on blankets, everyone smiling.

Mitch’s heart swelled, a part of him blown away to think that this brave and beautiful woman he’d loved for so long was finally going to become his wife. If it weren’t for Megs’ love, skilled doctors, and the people of this town, he might never have seen this day. He was the luckiest son of a bitch alive.

They reached the dais, Mitch stepping carefully so as not to lose his balance. Accardo gave him a nod and patted the pocket of his waistcoat, letting him know that Megs’ wedding band was safe. Then the music stopped, and Kurt, who was officiating, began the ceremony, mic clipped to his clerical robes.

“Good people of Scarlet Springs, today we are gathered to join Mitch Ahearn and Megs Hill as they celebrate a long and happy life together by at last becoming husband and wife.”

Mitch glanced at Megs to see if his words made her cringe, but she only smiled.

Kurt went on. “Usually, when I officiate a wedding, some part of me wonders about the couple’s future. Will they be faithful to each other? Will they work together to overcome life’s challenges? Will their marriage last beyond the honeymoon? This time, I don’t have to worry about any of that. Mitch and Megs have proven their love for one another and for their community over and over again.”

Laughter and cheers.

“My father, Dean Calder, was their best friend. He often talked about the two of them and their climbing exploits. He also told me about their integrity and the support they gave other climbers. ‘They’re not just great climbers,’ he said. ‘They’re great people.’ After my father’s death, Mitch and Megs showed the world who they truly were by turning tragedy into hope and creating the Rocky Mountain Search and Rescue Team. Their selfless decision to leave professional climbing and focus on rescue work has saved hundreds of lives.”

Cheers and applause.

“But today is a celebration of their love for one another—a love I witnessed in the ICU as Mitch clung to life last fall. Megs responded with a strength that is only borne of deep love. It was Mitch’s love for Megs that helped him hang on through his coma and through months of challenging rehab. Megs and Mitch, to officiate your wedding as Dean’s son is a great honor.”

That hit Mitch in the chest, putting a lump in his throat—which was super inconvenient because it was about time for their vows.

“Mitch and Megs have written vows they’d like to recite to one another. If the two of you would please join hands…”

Megs handed her bouquet to Gridwall, which made people laugh, and she and Mitch held hands.

Mitch swallowed—hard—and looked into Megs’ beautiful eyes. “Megs, you came into my life like a sunrise, and everything changed. Because of you, I have touched the sky. You’ve been my muse, my North Star, and my greatest joy. Today, I take you as my wife, to love and to cherish, to comfort and to protect until my last breath.”

Tears welled in Megs’ eyes, but her smile was all happiness.

Now it was her turn.

“Mitch, you and I have shared a thousand adventures, but the greatest adventure of my life has been living by your side. You’ve taught me everything I know about love, selflessness, and devotion. You gave me wings and helped me fly. Today, I take you as my husband, to love and to cherish, to comfort and to protect until my last breath.”

Then Kurt spoke. “The two of you have chosen to exchange rings as symbols of your love for one another and to seal the vows you’ve made today.”

Mitch turned to Accardo, who handed him Megs’ wedding band, gold glinting in the sunshine. He slid the ring onto her finger. “With this ring, I offer you all that I am and all that I ever will be. Accept it as my gift and a symbol of my undying love.”

Megs looked at the rings on her finger—the engagement solitaire and the gold band—then met Mitch’s gaze, her eyes bright with tears. She turned to Gridwall, who had to search a couple of pockets before finding Mitch’s wedding band, making everyone laugh once again, lightening the mood.

Megs took the ring, slid it onto Mitch’s finger, and repeated the vow, her voice strong and clear. “With this ring, I offer you all that I am and all that I ever will be. Accept it as my gift and a token of my undying love.”

Kurt opened his Bible, took out a piece of paper. “Mitch and Megs have asked me to read this poem, which holds great significance for them.

“Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself. But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires: To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To know the pain of too much tenderness. To be wounded by your own understanding of love; And to bleed willingly and joyfully. To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving…”

As Kurt finished the Kahlil Gibran poem that Mitch had read to Megs the night they’d first had sex, Mitch’s heart was winged. Because of her, Mitch finally understood the meaning of Gibran’s profound words.

When Kurt had finished, he concluded the ceremony by pronouncing them husband and wife. “You may kiss the bride.”

To cheers and applause, Mitch drew Megs into his arms and kissed her.

Then Gridwall swept the two of them into an unscripted hug, tears spilling down his grizzled cheeks, bridal bouquet still in hand. “I love you, man!”

Megs satbeside Mitch at the Team table, both of them buzzed on champagne, the two of them watching as Sasha and Gridwall took turns belaying each other on the climbing wall. “Sasha is enjoying herself.”

Mitch squeezed Megs’ hand. “So is Gridwall. He told me that Sasha reminds him of you when you were that age.”

“No. She’s a lot more cheerful than I ever was, and she’s a better climber.” Megs didn’t mind admitting it. She’d left her ego behind a long time ago.

Mitch looked down at her, a frown on his face. “Hey, Sasha stands on your shoulders. Before she and the rest of these youngsters came along, you were up there, figuring out how it works. You did things that people said were impossible. It takes guts to be the first.”

She laughed. “Says the guy who was up there with me.”

They’d accepted Joe and Rain’s invitation to hold their reception at Knockers with the strict understanding that no one was to bring gifts—except for tax-deductible donations to the Team, of course. The Mudbugs had already played a couple of sets, and Megs and Mitch had done the obligatory first dance. The only thing left to do was to toss the bouquet and head home. But Megs wasn’t in a hurry.

At the other end of the table, Kurt was having an animated discussion about something with Accardo, Hawke, Taylor, and Lexi, little Kit now six months old. Joe and Marcia worked the bar, while Rain helped Sam, Cheyenne, and Lark wait tables. Bear sat at his favorite table, enjoying a plate of fried chicken with a tall glass of milk. Vicki had popped out of the kitchen a few times to talk with Hawke, who was holding Mollie, their toddler. Caden, now in preschool, sat beside his father in a booster seat, making a grand mess with French fries and ketchup.

Meanwhile, Jason Chiago and Winona made their way back from the dance floor, hand in hand, their baby boy on Win’s back. Naomi and Chaska Belcourt and Ellie and Jesse Moretti supervised their little ones on the beginner’s end of the climbing wall.

“Do you regret not having kids?” Megs asked Mitch.

“No.” He kissed her hair. “Where did that come from?”

“The town is going through a baby boom—or hadn’t you noticed?”

“Oh, I noticed.” He chuckled. “You and I had other things we wanted to do with our lives. I’m content with that decision. How about you?”

“Every once in a while, I wonder what it might have been like to see a little Mitch running around. Then I see Lexi looking so uncomfortable at nine months pregnant or watch little Mr. Ketchup creating dirty laundry over there, and I’m good.”

Mitch laughed. “I hear that.”

Rain approached. “How are you two doing? More champagne?”

“I think I’m past my limit. How about you, Mitch?”

“No, thank you, Rain.” He had to watch his alcohol intake because of anti-seizure medication. “I think we’ll be heading home soon.”

“At the end of this set, I can invite all the single women to the dance floor so you can toss your bouquet.”

As far as Megs was concerned, it was a bizarre tradition, but she’d gone this far. She might as well go all the way. “That sounds good. Thanks.”

Rain smiled, touched a hand to Megs’ shoulder. “Thank you! It’s a fun party.”

Kurt stood and walked over to them, a small package in his hand that was wrapped in silver paper and topped by a pretty bow. “How are the newlyweds?”

Megs raised an eyebrow. “Is that a gift?”

“I know you said you didn’t want any presents, but I’m pretty sure you’ll want this.” He handed them the gift and a card. “Open the card first.”

Megs and Mitch did as he asked. It was a wedding card, full of sweet wishes. But the words Kurt had written hit home.

Getting to know you has brought so much of my father back for me. I am blessed to have spent time with you. Thank you for sharing your journal with me. I’ve shared the copied pages with my mother, who sends her love and her apologies for not staying in touch.

Congratulations on your marriage, and thanks for allowing me to play a part in it.

Warmly,

Kurt

Megs held it so that Mitch could see. “Thank you, Kurt. Having you in our lives has helped heal a lot of wounds. We are so grateful to you.”

Then they opened the gift.

It was a picture frame.

Megs turned it over to see the picture—and the breath left her lungs in a rush. “Oh, my God. Mitch!”

Mitch cleared his throat. “It’s the three of us on the summit of Everest.”

In the photograph, they stood close together, exhausted, cold, and jubilant, the light of a Himalayan dawn on their faces, so young and truly on top of the world.

“My mother has a lot of old photos of you three, including the last ones from the summit of El Diente. She would love to get together sometime and share. She thought you might have some of my dad.”

Megs nodded. “We do. That would be wonderful.”

She stood, hugged Kurt. “Thanks for everything. I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again. Your father would be so proud of you.”

“Thanks. Given how well you knew him and how much he respected the two of you, that means a lot.”

Mitch hugged him, too. “You and Jennifer are welcome at our home anytime, as are your mother and sister. Please give them both our love.”

“I will. I’ll be in touch soon.” Then he turned and walked away.

Megs held up the framed photograph. “It’s almost like it was yesterday.”

Then the music died out, and Rain took the mic. “All you single ladies make your way to the dance floor. The bride is about to toss her bouquet.”

This was followed by squeals and a rush of young women.

Megs and Mitch got to their feet and threaded their way to the dance floor and up the stairs onto the stage. “How do I do this?”

Rain demonstrated. “Turn your back to the crowd and toss the flowers over your shoulder. No peeking.”

“Easy enough.” Megs turned her back to the women—and let the bouquet fly.

Cheers.

She turned to find Sasha, who was standing off to the side and not on the dance floor, holding the flowers, a stunned look on her face. “I don’t even have a boyfriend.”

Laughter.

Megs and Mitch thanked Joe and Rain and their friends, wished everyone a good night, and then gathered their belongings. The entire pub seemed to follow them outside, where Gridwall was waiting by their SUV.

“Your chariot awaits.” He motioned toward the vehicle, its rear bumper festooned with white streamers.

Then Megs and Mitch saw the rear windshield and laughed.

Written in white were the words, “Finally Married.”

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