After breakfast, Holden and Griselda stopped by the hospital to visit Hannah, and Holden’s heart swelled when Gemma invited Griselda to hold his daughter.

Seeing Gris, so young and beautiful, holding his baby made all sorts of ideas swim around in his head, all ending in how fucking badly he wanted to be married to her and have babies with her and be allowed the privilege of calling her his wife. He kissed his tiny daughter on the forehead, whispering that he loved her, before gently handing her back to Clinton, who beamed down at the child’s face like no baby had ever been more precious. And again Holden knew the rightness of his decision to relinquish his paternal rights. He would find his place in Hannah’s life, but Clinton had been her real daddy right from the start.

After packing up the McClellans’ trunk with Holden’s meager belongings, they stopped by Quint and Maudie’s to say good-bye, and Maudie made them promise to come back on Thursday for Thanksgiving. It was Griselda who accepted Maudie’s invitation with tearful thanks, surprising him when she suddenly embraced the older woman, and Holden realized how much Griselda needed and wanted to be included in his life with the Davises. And he loved her for it because it meant that she had opened a room in her heart for his daughter, ex-girlfriend, best friend, and surrogate parents. It meant that Griselda wanted them in her life too.

As they drove out of town, Holden turned to her, the ring still burning a hole in his pocket, and asked, “M-mind if we make one more stop?”

She turned to him with bright eyes and shrugged. “Sure. Where?”

“You trust me?”

“With all my heart.”

“There’s just somewhere I need to see.”

It was hard to find the spot where they’d tried to cross the Shenandoah so many years ago, with Caleb Foster and Cutter chasing them down, so in the end he’d had to approximate the location. He parked on the side of the road, as close as he could get, and turned to Griselda. “I want to see it.”

She stiffened in her seat, staring out her window at the woods.

“I don’t,” she finally whispered, her eyes sad and heavy as she turned to face him. “I don’t want to see the place where I left you.”

“The place where we were separated.”

“The place where I escaped.”

“The place where we survived.” He paused a moment, looking deeply into her eyes. “Come with me. We need to face it together, Gris. It’ll haunt us if we d-don’t.”

“I can’t,” she sobbed.

“You c-can, angel. I’ll be right next to you.”

She tugged her bottom lip into her mouth, looked out the window, then took a deep, ragged breath. “Okay.”

He stepped out of the car and walked around to open her door. Her fingers trembled as she took his offered hand. She stood up, looking at the woods with cautious eyes, before turning to him.

“It was a long time ago,” he said, lacing his fingers through hers. “We were just kids trying to survive something terrible. We were b-brave, Gris. We were strong. We had hope.”

“We gave each other hope,” she said, her voice breaking on the word “hope.”

He tugged on her hand, leading her over the gravel at the side of the highway and into the woods, where they could hear the faint, faraway sound of the rushing Shenandoah through the trees. Griselda didn’t say a word, her head down, as she walked quietly behind him.

It was a long walk, and Holden’s memories rushed back—I know you hurt, Holden. I hurt too, but don’t stop!—in jagged, painful flashbacks,—Through the cornfields and across the river—blinding him with snapshots—Don’t look back, no matter what—that made his head ache—You still with me, Holden?—and heart clench—You leave him be! Let him go!

But he soldiered on, for a good half hour or so, pulling Griselda silently behind him. Stepping over fallen trees and around boulders, they drew closer and closer, until he looked up and there it was: the Shenandoah River, water rushing white over the exposed rocks, loud and ominous and . . . beautiful.

It was beautiful.

Through any eyes, by any yardstick, it was proof of nature’s bounty, of God’s mastery over His earth, and it was not responsible for the actions of Caleb Foster so long ago. It was a beautiful place that had been tainted by evil, but here and now Holden could see clearly: it was stunning.

The clear, fresh water.

The bright green trees flanking the shore.

The rolling hills.

The dazzling blue sky.

Finishing their walk to the shore line, he realized that he wasn’t pulling Griselda anymore; she was walking along beside him, as much in awe of this magnificent place as he.

As he gazed down at her, she stared out at the river with wonder for a long time, finally looking up at him with tears in her eyes. And he saw it as much as he felt it: the lightness that comes when you settle old scores. The Shenandoah was just a river, and they were no longer the helpless children it had so cruelly separated.

“We’re on the other side.”

He nodded, just able to catch sight of the cornfields across and downriver in the distance. “That’s right.”

“We’re on the other side,” she said again, her voice soft and amazed.

“Together, Gris.” He squeezed her hand, his eyes burning as he smiled down at her. “We finally made it across.”

He wasn’t just talking about that terrible day so long ago. He was talking about finding each other, and loving each other, and—hopefully, soon—choosing each other. Holden stepped behind Griselda and put his arms around her, pulling her tightly against his chest as the sun shone down on their faces and the river rushed before them.

Something terrible had happened here once upon a time, but now they stood victorious in the very place of their defeat, and their happily ever after was just within reach. At some point Gris reached up and covered Holden’s hands with hers, and he thought to himself, Right here. Right now. Me holding onto her and her holding onto me . . . this is as close to heaven as a man can get on earth.

And then, What in the world are you waiting for?

He leaned down, settling his chin on her shoulder.

“Gris?” he said softly by her ear, his arms still tight around her.

“Mmm?”

“Gris, I gotta ask you something.”

“Whatever it is,” she said, her voice soft, full of trust and love. “The answer’s yes.”

He laughed softly, his chest rumbling behind her, joy making him smile and press his lips to the warn skin of her neck.

“No, angel. I gotta ask you.”

Her breath caught—he felt her chest under his hands—and suddenly her fingers tightened.

“Holden . . .,” she started.

He let his arms slip from around her and stepped in front of her, lowering himself to one knee. He heard her surprised gasp and when he looked up, her eyes were wide and glistening.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice nervous, breathless.

“You know exactly what I’m doing,” he said, as she covered her mouth with trembling fingers.

Holden reached out for her free hand and held it, sweeping his gaze over her lovely face before focusing on her eyes.

“I fell in love with you when I was ten years old because you were pretty and you weren’t mean. And I would’ve died so many times in this life if it hadn’t been for you . . . my angel, my friend, my family, my hope, my joy, my love.

“Every time I said the words ‘protect and serve’ in boot camp, I’d think, ‘protect Gris, serve Gris,’ and then I’d add on every other word I could think of: talk to Gris, write to Gris, make babies with Gris, grow old with Gris. Love Gris. Loving you is like breathing for me. I can’t live without it.

“And I know we’re g-going to have to say g-good-bye a hundred times in this life, but I figure we’re pretty good at holding on, aren’t we? And we’re pretty good at finding each other again. N-no matter what.”

She nodded, her lips trembling as she swiped her tears away. He flipped her hand over then dropped his head, pressing his lips over the letters “H+G.”

“You turned my life around, Griselda. You gave me my life back. You made me want to live again . . . and live well. You are the breath that I take and the beat of my heart, and no matter where I am, you are always beside me, so we will never be separated again. But I want one more thing from you. You ready?” he asked, blinking his eyes with emotion, but managing a lopsided grin that she lopsidedly returned with a small nod. “Griselda Schroeder, I will love you and protect you and serve you and honor you, angel, until the day I die. I jump, you jump. And you already said yes a few minutes ago, but I figure I should ask you again . . . W-will you marry me? W-will you be my wife?”

***

“Yes!” she exclaimed, still holding out her hand and trying, unsuccessfully, to keep it steady.

Holden leaned down to press his lips to her fingertips before reaching into his pocket to take out the little black velvet box. He flipped it open, taking out the ring and slipping it onto her finger. She leaned down and reached for his cheeks, cradling them tenderly and urging him to stand. Once he did, she pulled his face down to hers.

“I love you,” she said. “I have always loved you. I will always love you, Holden Croft. I can’t wait to be your wife.”

“My wife,” he murmured.

“You taught me how to love again, how to hope, and how to trust. I wasn’t alive until the day you walked back into my life, and now nothing matters but you. You and me. Together,” she finished, her voice breaking with emotion.

When she’d exited the McClellan’s car an hour ago, Griselda never imagined she could feel a peace as profound as that she’d felt standing at the banks of the dreaded Shenandoah with Holden’s arms around her. No, they could never go back to that catastrophic day so many years ago, but life had given them a second chance to cross to the other side together, and this morning all of her dreams had come true.

“I love you forever,” she whispered.

His lips descended swiftly, the weight of his body crashing into hers as she kissed him back.

By now, it felt like she’d kissed Holden a thousand times, certain in the knowledge that their hearts and souls and minds were bound on an otherworldly level, and yet this kiss was new because the ring on her finger would join her life to his in the last remaining—very worldly—way: in marriage. She had been Griselda Schroeder and Zelda Shroder. But becoming Griselda Croft—a name written on her heart more than a decade ago—would be her dearest, most longed- for dream come true.

Holden drew back, smiling down at her. “You said yes.”

“Twice.”

“There’s more.”

Worry crept into her joyful heart. “What?”

“I want us to get married now.”

“Today?”

“No. Well, sure, if that’s what you want. I mean now, before I go to Fort Sill a week from Monday. Once we’re married, we can apply for base housing at my PDS, which will almost definitely be Camp Pendleton. I want you to meet me out in California in a few weeks, and we can move into our first house, Gris.”

“Our first home,” she said, sniffling from tears, her heart overflowing with love for him and excitement for her life with him.

“You were my first home,” he answered softly, kissing her again.

Her fingers spanned his scalp as she slipped her tongue into his mouth, swallowing his groan. Running her hands down the strong arms that had held her as a child, and now held her as a woman, she acknowledged the profound depth of her gratitude and the eternal well of her love for him.

“I want you, fiancée,” he growled, the words tickling her ear.

“We have wedding plans to make,” she said, arching her back to tease him, “as soon as we get home.”

“That’ll have to wait,” he said, the low rumble of his chuckle making her toes curl with happiness. “I’ve got other business with you first.”

“Okay, Holden Croft, you win.” She leaned back to look up at him and knew that her eyes were shining with more joy than she ever imagined she could possibly deserve. “But you better not tire me out too much. I’ve got a wedding to plan.”

***

Holden quickly learned that when you ask a girl to marry you and tell her she has nine days to make it happen, she doesn’t waste a minute.

After a call to Sabrina, who insisted they get married at their house in Georgetown on Sunday night—Roy would take care of the license and officiant—Griselda called Maya to ask her to be her maid of honor, and Holden called Quint to be his best man, since Clinton needed to stay close to Gemma and Hannah. Maudie made Quint wrangle another promise from them to come back for Thanksgiving on Thursday, and while there, Maudie offered Griselda her wedding dress, which had been lovingly preserved in a box of tissue paper for twenty-five years and fit Griselda like a glove.

On Friday they stopped in to see Professor and Mrs. Foster, sharing their good news, and Professor Foster handed them a check, calling it a wedding gift, and Ruth asked them to please keep in touch. When they opened the envelope outside and found out the check was for five thousand dollars, they raced back inside to return it. But Seth and Ruth, hands interlaced, eyes kind, insisted that the amount was right, and asked that they keep the money to start a good life and take a little of the sting away from the name Foster.

Sabrina arranged for the wedding dinner and cake, Maya picked out a bridesmaid dress for herself and a flower girl dress for Prudence, and on Sunday night, Holden stood next to the fireplace in the McClellans’ living room and smiled as the woman of his dreams took her place by his side and promised to be his wife.

The officiant, a judge who was a friend of Roy’s, smiled at the couple and said, “We are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of these friends and loved ones, to join together Holden Croft and Griselda Schroeder in holy matrimony, instituted by God since the first man and first woman walked the earth. Therefore, it is not to be entered into unadvisedly, or lightly, but reverently and soberly. Into this holy estate these two persons present come now to be joined.”

Holden looked into Griselda’s blue eyes, focusing on her unspeakably beautiful face, remembering her as a child, a teenager, an adult woman climbing the stairs to his apartment, his love, his life, his angel.

“Do you, Holden, take Griselda to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, to love, honor, and cherish, in good times and bad, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself solely unto her for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” he said, squeezing her hand.

“Do you, Griselda, take Holden to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, to love, honor, and cherish, in good times and bad, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself solely unto him for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” she said, her smile brilliant and strong.

“Who has the rings?” asked the judge, and Quint stepped up, winking at Holden and handing them each a simple gold band.

The officiant nodded, and Holden took a deep breath as he slipped the wedding band onto Griselda’s finger.

“I give you this ring as a symbol of my love. As it encircles your finger, may it remind you always that you are surrounded by my enduring love. I give you this ring as a symbol of my faithfulness. As I place it on your finger, I commit my heart and soul to you. I give you this ring because no matter where I am on this earth, I b-belong to you and only you until the d-day I die.”

***

She couldn’t hold back the tears as Holden pledged his eternal love and fidelity to her, but she took a deep breath and smiled for him, trying not to tremble as he held out his hand and she slipped a matching gold band onto his ring finger.

“I give you this ring because I have already given you my heart, my soul, and my life. As it encircles your finger, may it remind you always that you are surrounded by my enduring love. I give you this ring as a symbol of my trust. As I place it on your finger, I join my life and my destiny with yours. I give you this ring because no matter how far apart we are, I belong to you and only you until the day I die.”

Holden nodded once, blinking furiously and taking her hands in his once again, before looking back at the judge, who intoned, “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”

At first, Griselda had hesitated to add a Bible verse to their wedding ceremony since Old Testament verses accompanied some of her worst memories. But when the judge suggested this New Testament reading, it had felt so right, described their love so perfectly, she had quickly consented. And now she looked up at Holden as the words were said.

Patience. Kindness. Protection. Trust. Hope. Perseverance.

It was perfect. It was them.

She nodded at him, and he grinned at her in return.

“Holden and Griselda, may the blessings of life, the joy of love, the peace of truth, and the wisdom and strength of spirit, be your constant companions, now and always. I now pronounce you husband and wife.” He turned to Holden. “You may kiss the bride!”

As their friends and family cheered, Holden placed his palms on her cheeks, and Griselda looked up into his eyes as they cemented their formal vows with words of their own:

“I jump,” she whispered.

“You jump.”

“Never let me go.”

“I promise.”

“I love you forever, Holden,” she said.

“I love you forever, angel.”

Gray eyes met blue, fingers intertwined, hearts pressed together, and Holden and Griselda, who’d been lost then found, apart then together, unloved then cherished, pressed their lips together and finally crossed over the river into forever.