From Courtrooms to “I Do”: Inside Christine Baumgartner’s Sunset Wedding—and a Very Modern Second Act

 

Some stories end with a decree. Christine Baumgartner’s doesn’t. Less than two years after a white-hot divorce from Kevin Costner, the former model and handbag designer has written a brand-new chapter: a vineyard wedding at golden hour, vows exchanged before close friends, family, and six kids between them—and the sort of quiet elegance that signals a reset, not a rebound. 

A Santa Barbara love letter at sunset

Baumgartner, 51, married financier Josh Connor, 49, at Santa Ynez Ranch near Santa Barbara—their home base and emotional center of gravity. Guests described a ceremony bathed in warm light, intimate rather than ostentatious, with just over a hundred people gathered as the sun slipped behind the hills. Think vineyard rows, soft florals, and a soundtrack of sniffles: there reportedly “wasn’t a dry eye” as the couple said their vows. 

Fashion, of course, told its own story. For the ceremony, Christine wore a custom Mira Zwillinger gown embroidered with delicate florals—romance with structure. For the reception, she pivoted to a sleek Lihi Hod number that read: pared-back, assured, grown woman entering her peace era. Connor kept it timeless in a tailored black tux. It was less “look at us” and more “this is us.” 

How we got here

The road to that aisle was anything but simple. After 18 years of marriage, Baumgartner filed for divorce from Costner in May 2023, igniting a months-long legal battle over housing, child support, and logistics for their three children. By early 2024, the split was finalized with joint custody and a significantly pared-down child-support figure compared to the initial ask—closing a turbulent chapter that played out in headlines and hearings. 

Somewhere in the churn, Connor—once a friend and neighbor in their Santa Barbara orbit—shifted from confidant to companion. The two were first linked in mid-2023, though they initially kept things low-key. By early 2024, the romance had stepped into daylight; by January 2025, there was a beachside proposal and a ring. Saturday’s wedding simply made official what their circle already knew: this wasn’t a fling; it was a future. 

Why this wedding landed differently

Celebrity second acts often shimmer with spectacle. This one resonated because it exhaled. The weekend began with a small welcome gathering and centered on time—time for the blended family to mingle, time for friends to catch up without a press line, time to trade war stories from the last two years for toasts to the next ten. The mood, by multiple accounts, was intimate and grounded: the opposite of a victory lap, the perfect tone for a woman who’s had enough of courtroom glare. 

And then there’s the symbolism. Vineyards are about cycles—harvest after hardship, patience and tending. Choosing that backdrop was a message: this union isn’t about erasing the past; it’s about metabolizing it into something drinkable and good.

The co-parenting constellation

Any new marriage in a high-profile family becomes part of a larger constellation. Baumgartner and Costner share three children; Connor also has three of his own. Blending those lives asks for choreography as much as chemistry. The Santa Ynez setting—home turf for many of the kids’ memories—suggests continuity over disruption: keep the roots, prune the branches, let the new growth come. For those reading tea leaves about drama, note what didn’t happen: grandstanding, public jabs, or messy optics. Sometimes silence is the headline. 

A narrative shift—from scandal to structure

In 2023, the story was dollars and depositions. In 2024, it was détente and logistics. In 2025, it’s design: a deliberately scaled celebration, fashion choices with meaning, and a partner from the same community who understands the life they’re building. If you squint, you can see the arc: crisis → clarity → craft. The wedding reads like the last stage—crafting a life with intention after the dust settles.

 

Who is Josh Connor, really?

If the name rings familiar, it’s because Connor didn’t materialize from nowhere. A Santa Barbara–based financier and fellow parent, he’s been in the same orbit for years—close enough to know the rhythms of that life, steady enough to be there when the carousel spun too fast. That proximity can invite gossip; it can also make for a soft landing. The public timeline is tidy: friendship, then romance after the separation, steady visibility through 2024, engagement in early 2025, vows in October. 

The image that lingers

Picture it: the light turning amber, kids clustered in a row, vows barely louder than the breeze in the vines, a dress that looks like it was stitched from wildflowers, and a reception where the speeches sound like relief. You don’t need an A-list cameo to make that cinematic. You need intention—and two people willing to design their peace in public.

What this means for the larger Costner-verse

There’s an irresistible impulse to fold this moment back into the Costner narrative—Was he there? Will he comment? What does it mean?—but not every milestone needs to be a subplot. Reportedly, he hasn’t publicly weighed in, and perhaps that’s the healthiest outcome: parallel lives moving forward, intersecting where it matters (kids, schedules, holidays) and otherwise respecting distance. Closure, in real life, looks less like a statement and more like a calendar that works. 

Final toast

Christine Baumgartner’s wedding wasn’t a clapback; it was a compass. After seasons of scrutiny, the choice to marry at home, at sunset, in a dress that whispers rather than shouts, says everything: the storm has passed; let the next harvest begin. And if the measure of a second act is whether it feels earned, Saturday’s vows cleared that bar at a sprint—quietly, beautifully, and on her terms. 

Key timeline: Divorce finalized and co-parenting terms set by Feb. 2024; relationship with Josh Connor publicly visible in 2024; engagement in Jan. 2025; wedding at Santa Ynez Ranch on Oct. 18, 2025.