Page 38 of Finding Gideon (Foggy Basin Season Two)

Gideon

Steam curled from the mug in my hands, rising into the quiet.

Behind me, paws skidded across the floorboards, followed by the unmistakable sound of Malcolm muttering, “Hold still, you little menace.”

I turned around in time to see Dennis in a miniature bow tie, all puffed-up pride and twitchy excitement, his tail sweeping side to side like a metronome gone rogue. Malcolm crouched beside him, one hand on the dog’s chest, the other adjusting the knot beneath his chin.

“He’s going to eat that,” I said, nodding toward the bow tie.

Malcolm glanced up. “He’s got to look distinguished for ten minutes. After that, he can chew it into oblivion.”

Dennis barked once—sharp and smug—then strutted away like he had a speech to deliver and a country to run.

I brought the mug to my lips, barely sipped. My stomach didn’t know whether to behave like it was the best day of my life or the start of a disaster. Nerves weren’t new. But this felt different. Tense and weightless all at once. A good kind of terrifying.

My reflection in the hallway mirror made me pause. Button-down shirt. Clean jeans. Clean-shaven jaw. No circles under my eyes for the first time in months. I barely recognized myself—but not in a bad way. Just... like someone mid-transformation. Becoming.

Six months. That thought came quiet but solid. Half a year since I drove into Foggy Basin with a duffel bag and a bleeding heart. Since I tried to pass through this town and somehow ended up building a life inside it.

The wind carried the sound of laughter from somewhere outside—probably the volunteers setting up early. I let it in. Let all of it in.

“Hey,” Malcolm called from the front door, already slipping his boots on. “Are you ready for this?”

“No,” I said. “But I want to be.”

By the time we stepped out, the yard had transformed.

Balloons bobbed on every fence post, tethered with mismatched string like someone had raided every drawer in town to make it happen.

Folding chairs lined the grass in messy, hopeful rows, the kind no one ever sits in until they absolutely have to.

A collapsible table near the barn sagged slightly under the weight of homemade pies, foil-covered casserole dishes, and a pitcher of something citrusy and cold.

Kids ran wild through it all, ducking under streamers, chasing each other with paper animals on sticks.

One of them paused to pet Toast, whose family brought him back for the occasion and who—true to form—was letting himself be adored like royalty.

A glittery sign hung around his neck: TODAY’S MASCOT in bubble letters.

Dennis had a neon-green bandana with SECURITY stamped across it in bold black print. He took it seriously, too—trotting the perimeter, occasionally barking at nothing, then circling back to Malcolm like he was reporting in.

Junie stood near the front, fidgeting with a ribbon and scissors, her sparkly dress catching the sun like a disco ball.

Christian and Noah, Theo and Ronan, and maybe half of the town chipped in to make this day special.

I stood still for a second, taking it in.

This little sanctuary. This little town.

A voice off to the side broke the spell.

“Well, damn. You two didn’t burn the place down after all.”

Malcolm turned, and before he could get a word out, Jess launched herself into his arms. The sound of his laugh—open and unguarded—made my chest tighten.

“You’re back,” he said, holding her at arm’s length for a better look.

“Just in time to rescue the clinic from your soft heart,” she teased, though there was affection in it. “How are you doing?”

“Better now,” he said, then glanced my way with a grin that lit him up. “Let me introduce you properly. Jess, this is my boyfriend, Gideon. Gideon, Jess.”

We shook hands, a little tentative at first. We’d only ever exchanged a few words during her calls to give Malcolm updates about her mom, but I’d heard enough about her to feel like I already knew her. Still, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t wondered what her return would mean for me. For us.

“How’s your mom?” Malcolm asked.

Jess’s face softened. “She’s all clear. Sassier than ever. I’m glad I went, but God, I missed this place.”

“You’ve got a town full of people who’ll be glad you’re back,” Malcolm said.

She turned to me then, mischief dancing in her eyes. “And you. You stepped up more than anyone expected. No offense, but I thought you’d last maybe a week.”

“Me too,” I admitted, which earned me her laugh.

She reached out, squeezed my arm. “You did good. Really good. I’ll take over the clinic again, but the sanctuary—I can see you’ve built something there. It needs you.”

Her words lodged somewhere deep in my chest. For a second, I couldn’t find the right response. Malcolm must’ve seen it, because he slipped an arm around my waist, pulled me close, and said simply, “Told you, babe. You belong here.”

Jess’s words stayed with me long after she turned to greet one of the attendees. That was when we heard some familiar voices.

Malcolm’s head tilted toward the sound, and his smile shifted, warmer, almost boyish. “Well. Brace yourself, babe,” he murmured, giving my waist a quick squeeze. “Family’s here.”

I turned just as his parents came up the side path—his mom carrying a bouquet of wildflowers, his dad and Camille not far behind.

Camille caught sight of me and grinned before sweeping me into a bear hug. “Gideon Raines, look at you. All cleaned up and respectable. Must be a special day.”

“You’re not wrong,” I said.

She released me only to nudge my arm affectionately. “Told you you’d stick.”

I didn’t say it out loud, but I felt it, deep in my bones.

Yeah. I stuck.

Malcolm’s mom pressed the flowers into my hands with a wink. “Figured you’d know what to do with these better than my son.”

“Hi to you too, Ma,” Malcolm said, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

His dad pulled him into a quick hug and clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. “Proud of you, son. Big day.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Malcolm’s voice held that quiet weight of meaning.

Then his dad turned to me and shook my hand with an easy, “Good to see you, Gideon,” while clapping me on the shoulder.

“I’m glad all of you came,” I said, a smile spreading across my face.

The Joneses treated me like family from the start, and somehow it still caught me off guard.

Even months later, their warmth hit me deep—like sunlight in places I’d forgotten were cold.

The way they claimed me without question, without condition, seeped into every hollow space inside me and made me feel whole.

Malcolm glanced toward the small speaker someone had set up. “I should get over there and kick things off before Evelyn decides she’s the master of ceremonies.”

That earned a laugh from Camille and a dramatic eye roll from his mom, which wasn’t surprising—Evelyn’s busybody, albeit harmless, ways weren’t a secret.

The crowd gathered into a loose semicircle. Camille shifted closer to me, lowering her voice with a teasing glint. “Get ready—my brother’s been looking forward to this for months. Today means the world to him.”

Before I could respond, Malcolm’s voice carried over the hum of conversation.

“When we dreamed up this place, it was about giving second chances. To animals that needed care, and to people who needed a reminder that kindness still matters. This sanctuary exists because you believed in that too, and we’re grateful.”

He spoke a little longer, thanking the volunteers and neighbors who’d helped in ways big and small. The applause that followed rolled warm and easy through the late-afternoon air. Malcolm smiled toward me.

Then he turned toward Junie, who stood in her sparkly dress, still fidgeting with the ribbon and scissors. “And since Junie’s the reason half of us are here,” he said, his voice still warm, but a little rough with feeling, “I think it’s only fair she does the honors. Ready, kiddo?”

Junie beamed. The crowd clapped and cheered. With dramatic flair, she snipped the red ribbon in one clean cut. A cheer rose up—whistles, applause, Zuri, Rachel and Nia yelling, “You go, Junie!” like she’d just won a race. Even Lila Dormer dabbed her eyes.

“She’s braver than most grown-ups I know,” Malcolm said fondly.

I smiled, my chest too full to speak.

Then he turned back to the crowd. “Now, one more surprise.” The glint in my boyfriend’s eyes made my pulse race. “Come up here, babe.”

Heat crept into my face. “Me?” I knew I was his babe, but what could be the surprise he had in store for me?

Camille gave me a gentle nudge.

At the edge of the barn, a tarp-covered shape stood on two stakes in the ground. Malcolm gave me a wink, then tugged the covering down with a dramatic flourish.

The crowd hushed.

It was a sign. Hand-carved, beautiful, stained wood that looked like it belonged in a storybook. The letters had been burned into the surface with care and precision:

Garrett’s Place

A Sanctuary for Animals and the People Who Love Them

My breath caught.

Garrett.

I hadn’t said his name aloud in weeks, maybe months. It always felt like a tide I couldn’t stand against. But here—it lifted instead of pulled me under.

I looked at Malcolm.

His voice was low, meant only for me. “It was always yours. But now it’s his too.”

My throat burned. I tried to blink back the sting in my eyes, but it was useless.

I let the tears come quietly, while Malcolm stepped down from the little platform to stand level with me.

His shoulder brushed mine. The town clapped and whooped and celebrated a place born from grief—but now rooted in hope… and love.

A woman stepped forward from the crowd. I recognized her—her little boy had come for a therapy session weeks ago, terrified of everything on four legs. He left hugging a guinea pig and asking to come back.

She held out a folded check. “This is from the community. For medical supplies. And anything else you might need.”

I took it with shaking hands.

Malcolm grinned. “Alright! That’s the mushy part. Let’s eat pie!”

Laughter rolled through the crowd as the music started up behind us again. But I didn’t move—not yet.

I stood in front of the sign with Malcolm, shoulder to shoulder, until my breathing slowed again.

Garrett’s Place.

It was real.

Hours later, the sun dipped low, streaking the sky in watercolor pinks and oranges.

A soft breeze carried the scent of hay, barbecue, and the lavender Malcolm and I had planted along the fence line.

Most of the guests had gone, trickling out with hugs and thank-yous, promising to come back soon.

A few lingered near the barn, talking low, laughter floating through the air.

I stood, arms folded loosely, watching the goats we’d taken in wander the far field. Dennis was belly-up in the grass, soaking up the last of the light.

Footsteps crunched behind me, and then Malcolm was there. No words. Just his presence, warm and grounding.

We stood in silence, side by side.

Somewhere behind us, a screen door slammed.

Then—

“Are you married yet?”

We turned just as Junie came skidding to a stop in front of us, one hand gripping Toast’s leash, the other holding a half-eaten cookie. Her glittery dress was grass-stained. There was icing on her cheek. And she looked between us with the absolute seriousness only a child could muster.

Malcolm let out a short laugh. “Uh. Not yet.”

Junie narrowed her eyes like she wasn’t buying it. Then she shrugged and wandered off, tugging Toast behind her and taking another big bite of her cookie.

Malcolm’s smile lingered as he watched her go. “She’s clearly unimpressed with our timeline.”

“For real.” I threaded my fingers through his, the warmth of his hand pulling me firmly into the present.

Joy didn’t fully capture the enormity of my feelings about the second chance that life had given me. Relief didn’t either.

I wasn’t running anymore. Not from grief. Not from love.

I’d found my sanctuary.

And it had a name.

Malcolm.