Reva stiffened slightly, her fingers tightening around the stem of her glass. “She is. No real change. I’ll probably head back again soon.”
There was a quiet beat, an expectant silence hanging in the space between the words. The question behind the question lingered in Reva’s mind, but she didn’t answer it.
There would soon come a time…but not now. Not yet. For now, the decision would remain tucked between Kellen and her only.
Instead, she cleared her throat and reached for the serving spoon. “But I am worried about someone else right now.”
All three women looked up.
“Fleet Southcott,” Reva said. “I’m afraid he’s been showing disturbing signs of memory loss. I planned to talk with him about it today, but he missed his afternoon meeting. His wife called him to remind him—it was on his calendar—but he still didn’t show. This isn’t the first time.”
Charlie Grace frowned. “I heard from Nick that he came into the production office last week asking about permits he’d already signed months ago. Twice.”
Capri leaned forward. “And he showed up to the school fundraiser wearing his pajama bottoms.”
Lila’s eyes widened. “Oh no.”
“Oh yes,” Reva said softly. “It’s very troubling. His wife has made an appointment with a specialist in Cheyenne. But I think we all know something dreadful is going on with him.”
The mood shifted, heavier now. Charlie Grace’s voice dropped. “Do you think it’s dementia?”
“I do,” Reva said. “And it’s getting worse. I’m already putting temporary precautions in place. Once confirmed, I’ll have no choice but to replace him.”
They were quiet a moment, all of them processing.
“But replacing Fleet?” Lila finally said. “That’s a big deal. He’s been sheriff since...”
“Twenty-two years,” Capri said. “We were barely out of high school. And he swore Reva in as mayor, remember?”
“I remember,” Reva said, her voice softer now. “Which is why this is gutting me.”
Charlie Grace folded her arms. “If it were anyone else...but Fleet’s the real deal. He loves this town.”
“He is this town,” Lila added.
“But what if someone gets hurt because he forgets something important?” Capri asked. “That’s the part I can’t shake.”
They all nodded, each feeling the weight of it. The mix of loyalty and responsibility. Of heartbreak and leadership.
Reva drew in a breath. “It may come down to me having to make the call. But I need your support when I do. Not as mayor—but as your friend. As someone who’s going to cry her eyes out the day I tell him.”
Charlie Grace reached across the island, covering Reva’s hand with hers. “You’ll have it. All of it.”
One by one, the others nodded, the silence now something sacred. A moment of truth among women who’d weathered many storms together—and were preparing, once again, to hold each other up.
13
Capri shut the door softly behind her, mindful of the late hour. The cozy scent of woodsmoke met her nose, followed by the rhythmic snip of scissors. Jake sat cross-legged in front of the fireplace, a small vise clamped to a low table, his hands now deftly wrapping copper wire and hackle around a tiny hook. The flickering flames cast golden light across the room, playing against the rugged slope of his cheek and the knit of concentration in his brow.
A slow smile crept across her face. She crossed the room and leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “You do realize fly fishing season’s just about over, right?”
Jake didn’t look up right away. He tightened a loop, tested the line, then finally lifted his head, his eyes crinkling. “Nonsense,” he said with the quiet authority she was starting to recognize as pure Jake. “In early fall, all the tributaries are open. Water levels might be lower, but that just means the fish are easier to find. Bigger ones are feeding up before winter, especially in those deeper pools where the current slows down. And hatches still happen when the sun warms things up in the afternoon. Trust me—if you go at the right time, the fish are biting.”
Capri sank onto the floor beside him, watching as he reached for a tuft of elk hair and trimmed it expertly. The fire popped, and she pulled her knees up beneath her. “You always this convincing?” she asked, a half-teasing edge to her voice.
Jake glanced over, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Only when I know I’m right.”
She leaned back, letting herself relax into the quiet hush of home, the hum of companionship, the soft crackle of the fire. For once, she didn’t feel the need to fix or plan or prove anything. Jake had a way of grounding her like that—reminding her that the world could keep spinning without her at the helm.
