“Good, because I’ve waited long enough to be with you. And I don’t want to have to leave you again, not for one second more than I have to.”

Holy Saint Peter, this man could talk sweet. And she was eating it up, every single word. As he dropped his mouth against hers, he captured her with hunger that told her he’d never get enough, not tonight, not next week, not next year, maybe not ever. But that he sure wanted a lifetime to try.

Good thing she did too.

“I pronounce that they be man and wife together, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.” Father Zieber’s declaration rose into the night air.

“Amen,” Jericho whispered. As Ivy peered up at him, joy swelled within his chest. She was his wife. He couldn’t have asked for a better ending to his journey than to not only win back her affection but to end up married to her.

Dylan’s words from the saloon that last night together had haunted him—that he needed to go back, marry Ivy, and see to her happiness, otherwise he’d be making the biggest mistake of his life. Silently Jericho lifted a prayer of thanksgiving that God had gotten through to him, shaken him up, and started him down a different path. If only Dylan would start walking the straight and narrow too.

Father Zieber closed his prayer book and beamed at them. Several lanterns hung around the outside of Ivy’s little cabin shedding light on their ceremony. Most of the crowd from the barn raising was still present and had gathered around when Jericho had called out to announce the wedding.

“Young man”—Father Zieber clasped his shoulder—“you may kiss your bride.”

Jericho was already reaching much too eagerly for Ivy. He drew her into his arms, and fused his mouth to hers in a kiss that contained all the months of wanting that had led him back to her. Part of him still couldn’t believe he was here, with her, and that she’d forgiven him and taken him back so willingly. He was struck again as before by how he didn’t deserve her, but he wanted to make a lifetime of trying to be worthy.

Cheers and whistles filled the mountain air around them.

Ivy pulled back first. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes sparkled. She’d never looked more beautiful than she did at that moment. He wanted to envelop her in his arms for another kiss, but he forced himself to release her.

“What is it with you McQuaids and hasty weddings?” The middle-aged minister quirked a brow at Ivy’s brothers, who were standing nearby with their wives and children.