Page 54 of Chasing the Sun

When Stan parked, he and Levi got out to greet me.

Stan clamped a hand on Levi’s shoulder. “This kid’s got a head full of ideas.” Stan’s eyes twinkled. “If only he got this excited about remembering to eat breakfast.”

Levi huffed. “It’s not my fault the coffee you make is terrible.”

My brow creased. “You’re fourteen! Why are you drinking coffee?” I shook my head. Some battles were hard-won, and this conversation was going off the rails. “Okay, focus. So what’s the idea?”

Stan gestured toward the old truck. “He saw this pile of scrap metal behind my house and insisted we drag it up here.”

Levi walked toward the ancient truck. “Isn’t it awesome? Stan says it doesn’t run and all the tires are flat, but I thought we could put it up here, near the barn. People could take pictures near it or you could fill it with pumpkins or whatever.” His brows were lifted, waiting for me to see his vision.

“Levi ...” I shook my head, pulling my lower lip between my teeth. “I don’t know what to say. This is—I mean, it’s ...perfect!” As my voice climbed higher alongside my excitement, Levi’s grin split wider. I grabbed his shoulders as I bounced up and down in front of him.

“Stan, can you drag it around this side?” I pointed to where the truck could be near the barn without blocking the roadway or any entrances. Stan nodded, and we took a step back as he adjusted the tow truck to place our new centerpiece in the perfect spot. It took some time to get it unhooked, but once it was in place, I framed it with my hands like a photographer. I already knew the perfect way to style the truck for a new social media post—maybe I’d even get Levi to be in it, if he wanted to.

“This really is perfect.” I bumped my shoulder into Levi’s, emotion burning at the bridge of my nose. “Thanks, kid.”

His face turned eight shades of red, but he only duckedhis head, kicking at the dirt with his boot and smiling. “Just figured it could make people happy.”

“It will, Levi.” My throat tightened. “Youdo too.”

Stan hung out the driver’s-side door, standing above the tow truck. “I swear I can’t see it the same way you do, but I’m glad it makes you two happy. You’ve both got that same creative spirit as my Karen.” Stan’s eyes went wistful for a moment before he thumped his hand on the roof of the truck. “Better go see Phil at the junkyard.” Stan pointed to the four, sad flat tires on the antique truck. “If she’s going to be photographed, might as well fix her up a bit, and Lord knows Phil’s got tire mountain over there.”

My eyes went wide as a thought clicked into place.Tire Mountain. Tire. Freaking. Mountain.

“That’s it!” I bounced on my heels. “You know how I was saying there’s that big empty chunk of land over here?” I spread my arms to the large hill to my left. “Tire Mountain! Stacks of old semitruck tires that are built into the hillside. Kids can climb up and maybe even have a potato-sack slide down the side or something!” My mind was moving faster than I could talk. My energy was bubbling. “Okay! I have to go draw this up before I forget it!”

I spun in a circle, my brain firing off faster than I could keep up. This was it. This wasexactlythe kind of thing that would make Star Harbor Farm different.Memorable.It was fun and nostalgic and a little bit ridiculous—just like the best childhood memories always were.

I pointed at Stan. “Talk to Phil. See what kind of deal you can make to take a butt-load of those tires off his hands!”

I ran back toward the barn as Stan laughed and shook his head. “You got it, boss.”

FIFTEEN

ELODIE

There arefew days that go down in history as trulyperfect.

Today was not one of them by any stretch of the imagination. I was filthy, tired, and frustrated that sometimes I had to exercise patience.

I hated that.

Tire Mountain was a wild idea but would help the town reduce its waste while adding an attraction to the farm. Trouble was, getting thirty gigantic semitruck tires dug into the side of a hill was a hell of a lot more work than I’d bargained for.

But it didn’t matter, because it was for the kids. I really wanted it to be complete before the Ghost of Star Harbor tour gave people a peek into what we were creating on the farm. I would have to settle for half built and hope everyone else could see how great it was going to be.

The night of the tour was thick with mist, hanging low along the streets of downtown Star Harbor like something alive, creeping into the cracks of old buildings, stretching long fingers into the hollows of the trees.

The ghost walk had started off as fun, an excuse to get tangled up in the town’s past, but somewhere along the way the atmosphere had shifted. Now at the end of the tour, standing at the entrance to the farm, looking at the shadows stretching long and lean across the dirt road, I felt the weight of something I couldn’t name pressing against my skin. A tingle danced up my spine.

The scent of damp earth and lake water clung to the air, mingling with the faintest trace of something else—cedar and smoke, something sharp and clean, something unmistakablyhim.

Callum.

He wasn’t looking at me, but I could feel him. The way his presence took up space, the way my body had been attuned to him all evening, tracking his movements without even meaning to.

I exhaled slowly, rubbing my arms against the sudden chill.