"That's his face, Garret. He looks at everyone that way."
He shook his head and stared out the window, his knee bouncing nonstop. My hand reached over and squeezed his thigh.
"Hey. We're doing this together. Whatever happens in there, we handle it together."
His hand covered mine and held it against his leg for the rest of the drive.
Every seat in the diner was taken when we walked in. Mom's friends from church had set up tables end to end through the center of the restaurant, covered in white tablecloths and loaded with casseroles and sandwich trays and flowers from the service. Photos of Dad lined the windowsills—Dad at the shop, Dad at the track with the boys, Dad holding me as a baby, Dad and Mom on their wedding day. People filled every booth and lined the counter and spilled onto the patio, and the noise of laughter and crying mixed together. It really was a celebration.
Mom sat at the head of the long table with Danny on one side and Andy and Tiffany on the other. Kip was in Tiffany's lap eating a dinner roll with both fists. When Garret and I walked in together, his arm around my waist, the conversation at the table dropped off and every set of eyes turned toward us. Nothing like being put on the spot…
I glanced up at Garret who seemed stuck to the floor, then nudged him to continue moving as I spoke. "Before anyone says anything," I said, pulling a chair out and sitting down, "there's something I need to tell all of you." Garret lowered his hulking frame into the tiny chair and his head hung. He wasn't ashamed of me. This was his way of showing my brothers he wasn’t a threat.
Mom's eyes fell to her plate, but her expression was calm. Danny and Andy had scowls because they didn't want Garret here. They were die hard believers that Dad's way was the only way, which was so incredible of them to honor him so well. But there was only one thing in life I believed my Dad got wrong, and that was not trusting Garret. Had he woken up and come home instead of passing away, it might be a different conversation.
But it was time to put old ways aside and embrace my future. And my future with Garret and Kip was bright.
"Garret and I are together. We have been for a while now, and with Tony gone, I'm staying in Grove Hill. I'm not going back to St. Louis." My eyes moved around the table. "I'm done managing the racing crew, and I'm hoping to work here at the diner or somewhere in town, and I'm going to raise Kip here, close to family."
"Sara, that's nonsense. You belong on the track with us. You love what you do." Andy looked like he might cry, not the anger I expected. It would take them a while to get over the two of us being together, but right now, it appeared he might miss me on his team more than he cared about Garret.
"You're gonna find someone perfect for the team, Andy. And I'll train them myself. But I love Garret and my home is here. I want to stay, and I want to help Mom and maybe run Dad's shop." Ifelt Garret squeeze my hand under the table, but the last thing I expected was for him to speak up.
"Sara and I will be married soon, Andrew." The shock of that announcement sent a ripple of murmurs through the people surrounding us, but inside me it settled me, like an anchor weighing me down finally after years of stormy seas. "And when that happens, not a person in this county will look at your sister crossways."
Danny snorted and Mom gave him a glare, so he locked it up. But it was Andy who finally pulled through, showing me how much my family loved me.
"You hurt her and I'll kill you myself," Andy said, pointing his fork at Garret.
"Fair enough."
A round of chuckles bubbled through the crowd as everyone returned to focusing on their meal. Then Kip squirmed out of Tiffany's lap and toddled over with crumbs on his face, reaching up with both hands until I lifted him into my arms. He leaned against my chest and stuck his thumb in his mouth and studied Garret with wide eyes and rosy cheeks.
"Mama?" Kip asked around his thumb, pointing at Garret with his free hand.
"It's Daddy, baby. Remember?"
Garret's hand came up and gently ruffled Kip's hair, and Kip grinned around his thumb and buried his face in my shoulder. Garret's eyes were glassy again but he held it together this time, and his arm tightened around me.
It wasn’t long before we were telling stories about Dad and his antics. Danny told the one about Dad teaching him to ride his first bike and crashing into the mailbox. Andy talked about the time Dad drove three hours to pick him up from a race where he'd wrecked on the way home and never said a word about the damage to the trailer. Mom talked about their first date and how he had shown up with wildflowers he'd picked from the side of the highway and how she'd known right then he was the one
Dad's memory was alive in every story bouncing around the table, and home had never felt safer or more welcoming. With Garret by my side and my worries on the horizon behind me, I had a feeling everything would be just fine.
EPILOGUE
Garret
Fox held the scissors up and the crowd cheered before he even cut the ribbon. When the blades closed and the red fabric fell away from the new front doors of the Black Anvil, fifty Gravehounds and twice as many friends and family surged forward and the noise was deafening.
A year ago, this building was ash and char. Now the bar stood rebuilt from the foundation up with new brick and fresh paint and a sign above the door that Fox had commissioned himself—a steel anvil with flames rising off it, welded by hand in the shop where I'd spent the last nearly ten years of my life turning wrenches.
Sara squeezed my hand as we walked through the doors. The inside was packed already. The bar was lined three deep with patched members and their families, the jukebox cranking, and someone had strung a banner across the back wall that read CONGRATULATIONS GARRET & SARA in blocky handwriting that looked like Butch's.
Tonight was two celebrations in one. Grand opening of the Anvil, and the reception we'd never had. Sara and I had eloped three months back at the courthouse in Jefferson City. It was what she wanted—no fuss or fanfare. Though, Anne protested how Sara would regret it, but deep down, I knew she had what she wanted the minute I told her I loved her.
The feud with the Black Locusts had died when Tony disappeared from Grove Hill. Without him fanning the flames, there was nothing left to burn, and six months of us not retaliating left things a hell of a lot more peaceful than before. Both clubs kept their distance and that was fine by everyone.
Rusty appeared with a bottle of Jaeger and a tray of shot glasses. He poured a line of them across the bar and the boys gathered around, and when he slid one toward Sara, she held up her hand.
