Page 176 of Pumpkin Spice Promises

“Inflation.”

I looked between them. Neither seemed aware I was still there. Or maybe they were and simply didn’t care.

Jax leaned against the bar, not caring that she’d left it. “You coming Saturday?”

Rosie glanced between me and him. “Unfortunately.”

“Good,” he said, finally sitting on a stool and drinking his beer quietly.

My phone buzzed, and Rosie glanced down as the light flashed.

“Go ahead.”

“I don’t know who it is.”

“Yes, you do.” She walked away before I could argue.

I sucked on my bottom lip and flipped the phone.

Beau

Question.

Carson

Dangerous start.

Beau

If I hypothetically found a box of James Rome’s old festival signs in the equipment shed, would you hypothetically kill me if I cleaned them?

I sat straighter.

Carson

You found them?

Beau

Maybe.

Carson

Beau.

A picture arrived.

Three wooden signs leaned against the garage wall.

HAYRIDES

PUMPKIN PATCH

And one painted in Pops’s crooked handwriting:

WELCOME HOME

My throat tightened at the letters he had painted all those years ago.