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He raked a hand through his hair. “Should we go?” He gestured toward the sliding doors at the end of the parking aisle.
She held his gaze a moment, then nodded. “Yep. It’s time.”
When they reached the security line, he shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Well, I guess this is it. It’s been ... unusual.”
She chuckled. “That’s one word for it.” She slipped her hair over her shoulders. “Maybe when I get back—”
An overhead announcement cut her off.
“Maybe?” he asked as soon as the announcement ceased.
“Maybe we could do something less intense,” she said with a soft smile.
“I’d like that.”
They stood in silence a moment until she said, “I better go.”
“Right.” He moved forward and wrapped her in his arms. It felt ...right. Placing a kiss on her cheek, he stepped back.
She stared at him, eyes blinking, a flush of pink on her cheeks.
“Stay safe.”
She nodded and headed into the TSA PreCheck line through security.
He knew he should leave, but he couldn’t make his feet move. He watched as she passed through the security scanner and grabbed her backpack off the conveyer belt on the other side. She stood still a moment, then turned. Her gaze fixed on his, and something he couldn’t put into words passed between them, and then, with a wave, she was gone.
¦¦¦
Leaving Harper at the airport, Deckard crossed town and drove through the Hillsdale Cemetery. The police had arrested Mitch Abrams, Councilman Markowitz, and William Richards, and all were headed for trial.
Gratitude filled his heart. He’d be there for it all, attend the trial and see Mitch back behind bars where he belonged, even if it was for different reasons.
He turned right at the first crossroad, parked, and got out. Grabbing the flowers he’d bought, he turned to find the gravestone he sought. The man in the cemetery office had given him the general direction, but it took him a moment before he found Anne Marlowe’s grave.
He knelt down, brushing a few leaves away, and replaced them with the flowers. “They got them,” he said, looking around to make sure he was alone. He’d never spoken at a graveside before—let alone been to one. Not even when his dad was killed. There’d been dangerous extenuating reasons behind that decision, but he wondered if he wouldn’t have made the same decision regardless.
He shifted his attention back to Anne’s gravestone, which readBeloved daughter. Rest in peace, my love.
No matter what life she lived or poor decisions she’d made, Anne was loved, and she didn’t deserve to be butchered.
“He’s going back to jail. I just wish it was for what he did to you.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I’m so sorry I bought his lies, so sorry he conned you too. But he will soon be behind bars, and now you can rest in peace.”
Standing, he felt a combination of relief and fury, the weight off his shoulders now that they were going to jail mixed with the fury of being conned. Mitch had played him well, and it wouldn’t happen again. He’d go back to Greyson and walk through where he went wrong.
But that conversation would have to wait. Today was Riley’s rodeo, and the whole gang was going. Even Greyson. Deckard halfexpected him to show up in a suit. He and Christian had made a wager. He’d said suit, and Christian went with jeans. The loser had to muck out the stalls tonight.
He turned on his Spotify, and first up was one of his favorite songs—“Amarillo by Morning.”He sat back and gazed at the winding mountains, enjoying the solitude, the lost-in-time feel as he passed the old mining town of Madrid. This was home, but while it brought him comfort, he still longed for a peace he feared he’d never find.
SEVENTY-FOUR
“THAT WAS SO MUCH FUN,”Andi said, following the rodeo. The brewing wind had made it especially entertaining with tumbleweeds rolling by and getting stuck under the bleachers where they sat and cheered Riley on. Riley had taken first place in barrel racing and won a cute heart-shaped buckle with gold engraving.
“I still can’t believe that was your first time attending a rodeo,” Christian said.
“If I’d known it was this much fun, I would have started attending years ago.”
“But,” he said as they walked down Main Street in Jeopardy Falls, “it’s not your first fair, is it?”
