Page 25 of Friends are Forever (Teton Mountain #6)

B y Monday morning, news traveled like wildfire through Thunder Mountain. Mayor Reva Nygard was leaving.

Reva barely made it through the front doors of Town Hall without someone grabbing her elbow, pulling her in for a hug, or slipping her a note. She smiled until her cheeks ached. She blinked back tears so many times her eyes burned.

By noon, her assistant Verna Billingsley appeared in the doorway of her office, looking both frantic and delighted.

“I’ve already planned a going-away parade," Verna said, waving a clipboard as if it were a royal decree. “We’ll need floats. Banners. Balloons. I’m thinking a pie contest, too. Maybe a cowbell-off!”

Reva stared at her, dumbfounded. “A cowbell-off?”

Verna nodded vigorously. “It’s where everyone brings their loudest cowbell and competes for the title of Thunder Mountain’s Noisiest Neighbor.”

“I...don’t think we need?—”

“It’s already on the flyer!” Verna chirped, turning on her heel and disappearing down the hallway. “Besides, this is a big one. A double celebration. Thunder Mountain is losing both you and our beloved Fleet. We can’t let this sad milestone pass without proper recognition.”

Reva dropped her forehead into her hands and groaned. But under the groan was a smile she couldn’t quite suppress.

Thunder Mountain loved its own fiercely—and sometimes absurdly.

The rest of the day passed in a haze of handshakes, hugs, and familiar faces.

Oma dropped by with a Tupperware container of warm cinnamon rolls, the smell sweet and buttery. She patted Reva’s cheek, leaving a dusting of flour on her skin.

Later, Pastor Pete stopped by, carrying a worn Bible tucked under one arm.

“I know you’re following what your heart tells you,” he said, his voice thick. “But don’t you forget—you’ve got two homes now. Here and there.”

Even Nicola Cavendish popped her head into Reva’s office with a sniffle.

“You’re leaving a mark on this town no earthquake could shake loose,” she said, dabbing at her eyes with a monogrammed handkerchief. Her tiny dog, Sweetpea, yapped in agreement from her designer purse.

Reva smiled and thanked her, feeling the layers of her life here wrap around her heart tighter with each farewell.

In the late afternoon, Reva drove down the street to the sheriff’s department.

Fleet Southcott was already waiting on the front steps, his posture a little more stooped than usual, his badge polished until it caught the sun. He held a battered clipboard in one hand.

“Got your recommendation for the council,” Fleet said, handing over the clipboard. “Gibbs Nichols. Kid’s got spirit.”

Reva accepted his gesture, her throat tightening.

“You’re a legend, Fleet,” she said quietly. “Not easily replaced, my friend.”

He chuckled, his gaze sweeping over the town. “Nah. Just an old man who loved his people.”

“You kept us safe,” Reva insisted. “You gave this town your heart.”

“As did you, Mayor.” Fleet’s eyes softened. “Don’t you go thinking you’re not doing a big thing by moving down to Georgia, girl. It’s gotta be hard on you. Just remember, home ain’t a dot on a map. It’s where you pour your love.”

Fleet clapped her shoulder, firm and steady. He smiled, seeming to have made peace with the changes forced upon him. Reva took note, believing she needed to do the same.

She wanted to believe that letting go didn’t have to feel so much like tearing herself in two.

Later that evening, after Lucan was tucked into bed and Kellen sat reviewing paperwork in the den, Reva stood barefoot on the back porch.

The mountains loomed in the distance, dark and steady.

She drew a deep breath.

Thunder Mountain would be here long after she was gone. Its ridges and valleys, its storms and clearings, would hold pieces of her soul forever.

She hugged her sweater closer and let herself feel it—the ache, the gratitude, the hope. She wasn’t just leaving a town. She was leaving a piece of herself behind. And in exchange, she was carrying all of this love into the next chapter.

Kellen was suddenly by her side. He placed both his hands on her shoulders, whispered into her hair, “Everything’s going to be all right, babe. Rarely does life stay the same. But we’ll be doing this together.”

She nodded, turned, and buried her face against his chest.

Yes, her husband was right.

We thought change was the enemy—that if we just held still long enough, maybe life wouldn’t find us. But life always found us. It shoved us forward, ready or not.

In the days following Reva’s announcement, the weight of the news continued to press heavy on her girlfriends. It wasn’t just what she said—it was everything it meant.

Charlie Grace busied herself with ranch chores she didn’t really need to do, trying to outrun the feeling that something was slipping away.

Capri threw herself into work too, but even the river, wild and restless like her, couldn’t carry away the quiet grief pooling inside her.

Lila sat on the clinic porch at sunset, coffee cooling in her hands, staring at the hills where their futures had once seemed so certain.

They didn’t talk about it, not yet. Maybe they didn’t know how. All they knew was that something had shifted, and no matter how hard they tried to hold it together, the cracks were already showing.

Hearing Reva’s plans left her friends gutted in a way none of them wanted to admit aloud. They had weathered boyfriends, marriages, deaths, and births together—standing shoulder to shoulder through everything life threw their way.

But this? This was different. This was a goodbye written in slow, heavy strokes.

Love made you brave. But losing someone you loved—even when it was the right thing—made you fragile in ways you never expected.