Page 5 of Friends are Forever (Teton Mountain #6)

R eva yanked open the second drawer of her tall chest and laid a silk turquoise blouse across the bed, followed by a perfectly pressed pair of cream trousers. She paused, the heels of her shoes pressing softly into the plush carpeted floor as she reached for her cosmetic bag.

She zipped up the side of her garment bag and laid it across the bench at the foot of the bed, then moved quickly but deliberately, tugging open drawers, slipping folded items into a structured leather tote.

A pale-blue tank top. Her favorite black slacks.

A wrap dress, just in case. Heels—three pairs.

She wasn’t sure what the next few days would hold, but she refused to be caught off guard.

“She’s still hanging on,” Kellen said from the doorway, Lucan nestled against his shoulder. “Your mama just texted.”

Reva stopped mid-fold, her hand resting on a soft cream cardigan. “I should’ve been on a plane hours ago,” she murmured.

“You’re going now,” Kellen reminded her gently. “The flight schedule out of Jackson is limited. We got you on the first flight available.”

She nodded, jaw tight, then moved to her vanity, opening her jewelry case and slipping in a few delicate pieces—pearls, hoops, her grandmother’s garnet ring, which she’d worn on special occasions growing up in Georgia.

Their bedroom glowed with soft morning light, filtered through the tall windows that stretched to the beamed ceiling.

Beyond the glass, pine trees swayed beneath a breeze that hadn’t yet burned off the mountain chill.

Reva had designed this home to blend luxury with nature, and in moments like this—when her insides spun—its stillness helped steady her.

“She’s asking for me,” Reva said quietly, slipping her laptop into her carry-on. “Lucan’s never even met her, Kellen. I just…I don’t want to lose her before I’ve said everything I need to say.”

Kellen crossed the room and wrapped an arm around her waist, careful not to jostle Lucan, who was busy chewing on the edge of his sleeve. “Everything will be okay.”

She leaned into his chest for a moment, letting his steadiness anchor her.

“Well, I’d better get going,” she finally said.

Outside, the SUV was already running. Reva stood beside it, coat cinched at the waist, bag slung over one shoulder. She kissed Lucan’s forehead, inhaling the baby lotion and that scent only toddlers had—Cheerios and sunshine. “You be good for Daddy.”

Lucan giggled and patted her cheek.

Kellen wrapped her in a hug. “We’ve got this here. You focus on your Grand Memaw. In the meantime, I’ll keep our little guy in one piece,” Kellen promised. “You keep in touch.”

“Every day,” she said, voice catching.

She opened the car door, glanced back once more.

Lucan waved a pudgy hand, face lit up with the joy of a morning adventure, unaware his mama’s heart was splintering.

Reva gave one final wave, climbed in, and pulled away from the curb, her designer sunglasses hiding the tears she couldn’t blink away.

Soon, the highway unspooled ahead of her like a silver ribbon, winding through pine-covered hills still cloaked in early fog.

Reva kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting near her coffee, barely touched.

The drive out of Thunder Mountain was always beautiful, but today, it blurred at the edges—her thoughts drifting far from the peaks around her.

Grand Memaw.

The woman had been made of grit and grace in equal measure.

She wore cotton dresses and wide straw hats and carried herself like a queen, even when she was shucking pecans or tending to her flower garden in the Georgia heat.

Reva could still picture her standing on the wraparound porch of the old farmhouse, a dishrag tossed over one shoulder, her hands dusted with flour while sharing wisdom.

“Tell the truth, baby girl,” she’d always say, “even when your knees are knocking.”

That voice had lived in Reva’s head for decades, especially in courtrooms and council chambers, when nerves pressed like a weight against her lungs.

Reva blinked, eyes stinging. She hadn’t heard Grand Memaw’s voice in months—not really. And now it might be too late.

She tapped the steering wheel gently with her thumbs, the road ahead a blur of memory and fear.

She didn’t know what she’d find when she pulled into Sweet Briar Grove.

She only knew one thing—she couldn’t lose Grand Memaw without one more porch swing conversation, one more hug that smelled like lavender powder and home.