Epilogue
Happily Ever After
Labor Day
The town wouldn’t let them get away with a quiet, private wedding.
The hullaballoo over Annie’s return from New York had finally settled down, but then it got started up all over again when news got around that the horse Annie Cornell had rescued, and the hero cop from New York who owned him, a fellow named Bart Hardin, had come to live in Laramie. Folks sniffed out the romance right away and fell in love with the whole story. Reporters came from all over the state to do a piece on them, local TV stations wanted them for interviews, school children were brought round to look at them, and every club wanted them to join. Poor Annie and Bart, they couldn’t find a moment’s peace. They tried to hide out at the cute little house Bart had rented, where they could plan a simple wedding—and spend what they called “quality time” together. But neighbors kept coming round to visit and people would stop their cars out front to take pictures of their home.
At first, Annie thought Bart couldn’t possibly give up his beloved New York, but Bart was having so much fun, learning to be a westerner, pointy boots, cowboy hat and all, she finally stopped worrying. Between them, they agreed that any time he really needed to, they’d manage to find a way to go back for a visit, walk its streets, ride its subways, visit Sergei and eat a hot dog, cross the bridge to Brooklyn, and breathe in the city’s special atmosphere, its mix of pollutants that ought to kill its residents but somehow doesn’t.
“And will you love me even though there isn’t enough humidity here to fluff up my hair,” Annie said.
“Oh, honey, I’m going to love you when your hair is all gray and stringy. And mine is all gone. I do love your hair, Annie, but that’s not why I love you. You better know that.”
“And why do you love me, Bart? Tell me again.”
“I love you because even though you look like an angel, you have a will and a backbone of iron, and even though you have an iron will and an iron backbone, you still need to be taken care of. And I love you because you’re willing to let me be the one to take care of you.”
Annie wore flowers in her hair and a lovely white gown from one of the local bridal shops in town. She’d had enough fussing over clothes to last a lifetime and she loved the traditional white dress she found at Miss Mae’s Brides on Second Street. The town loved the romance of their story, what with her being such a celebrity and all, and Bart, following her all the way from New York City to marry her. There was no way Laramie would let them have the quiet, simple wedding they’d planned, so they gave up and made a big barbecue wedding on the Cornell ranch, with Craig giving her away, and Max coming out to be best man. Liz was her matron of honor and, because the boys made a fuss, each one wanting to be the ring bearer, they each got to carry a ring—Brandon for Bart and Buckley for Annie.
Bart’s mom was there, crying a couple of tears of happiness, and the Malones came down from their ranch up by Sheridan, eager to meet Bart’s bride, and delighted that the New York branch of the family was finding its way back to God’s country.
Troop B sent a great framed photo portrait of the whole group with each rider mounted, signatures all over. Captain Simon sent a warning that Bart better learn to rope steers, because that little slip of a thing he was marrying had a mind of her own and he better not let himself be bullied. He also wrote that the local theater community was donating a plaque to be put up over Lindy’s stall to honor a valiant and beloved horse.
Mitzi sent a gorgeous crystal bowl, and Sylvie Pilard, on behalf of Galliard’s, sent a sterling silver Champagne cooler which, had Annie and Bart known its cost, would have been wrapped up and placed in a safe deposit box. Fortunately, they did not realize its cost, so it was destined to live permanently on the counter in their kitchen, right next to the toaster and the food processor. Marge Webster sent a full service of sterling flatware from Lady Fair. She also wrote that the magazine wanted to do a follow-up on their amazing story. Bart thought it might be fun, but Annie and Liz nixed that idea.
Lindy also had flowers in his hair—in his mane, that is. And, as the barbecue happened right there on the ranch, he was able to be close by as Annie and Bart said “I do” and exchanged rings. And afterwards, when the band played the Wyoming fight song, Lindy tossed his mane and danced all around the field, doing steps no one had ever taught him, a Lindy version of pure pleasure and gratitude, because he’d been brought back to the high country of his birth where he could breathe its sweet air and run free over its endless terrain. And, God willing, there’d be little ones again who’d teach him tricks and climb up on his back and ride him bareback just for fun.
And so they all lived happily ever after.