Page 8

GRACE

The morning light filters through my curtains, and for a moment I lie still, absorbing the silence of my bedroom that suddenly feels too big, too empty.

"I let him in," I whisper to the ceiling. "Now what?"

Rolling onto my side, I pull the covers up to my chin, allowing myself exactly thirty seconds to remember our time in the cabin.

His hands, his mouth, and the way he looked at me like I was something precious.

Then I shut it down. Words are easy. Staying is hard.

I've learned that lesson too many times to count.

I shower and dress quickly and try not to think about what it would be like to shower with Blaze, no, my Blake.

The town square buzzes with activity when I arrive, another pantry swap is gearing up.

The town decided to do one every four days until the road is fixed to make sure everyone has what they need.

Tables are arranged in neat rows, people are setting up displays of homegrown vegetables, homemade preserves, and hand-knitted items. Despite everything Mustang Mountain has been through, the energy feels hopeful, vibrant.

I slip into organizer mode, clipboard in hand, checking off vendors and directing traffic. If I stay busy enough, maybe I won't scan the crowd for a certain tall musician every thirty seconds.

"Need help with that?"

I nearly drop my clipboard at the sound of Blaze's voice. He's standing behind me, looking unfairly good in a simple grey T-shirt and jeans, holding a box of tomatoes from Ruby's garden.

"Didn't think you'd show," I say, trying to sound casual and failing miserably.

He’s stopped in to the Merc to see me while I was working there, and I know he’s been helping Shane at the ranch but part of me was ready to hear he’s packed up and left.

His smile is soft around the edges. "Told you. I'm not going anywhere."

Something warm unfurls in my chest. I tamp it down quickly. "You can put those on Ruby's table. She's over by the gazebo."

"Yes, ma'am." He gives me a mock salute that shouldn't be charming but somehow is.

I watch him weave through the crowd, stopping to chat with Caitlin, and helping Orville with his awning. He’s completely at ease among my people. Our people? The thought makes me nervous, so I bury it under logistics and vendor placements.

By noon, the swap is in full swing. Children dart between tables, music plays from radios set up at the booths, and the scent of Lily's famous donuts wafts through the air. Orville takes the microphone, tapping it twice.

"Folks, if I could have your attention for a moment." His voice booms across the square. "I just want to say how proud I am of this community. When times get tough, Mustang Mountain pulls together. We share what we have. We--"

His words cut off abruptly. I look up from my clipboard just in time to see Orville sway, his face draining of color. Then his knees buckle, and he crumples to the ground.

For a heartbeat, everyone freezes. Then chaos erupts.

"Call 911!" someone shouts.

I drop my clipboard and run, pushing through the gathering crowd. "Give him space! Back up!"

Ruby is already kneeling beside her husband, her face a mask of controlled panic. And right beside her, steady as a rock, is Blaze, his hand on Ruby's shoulder.

"Ambulance is on the way," he tells her quietly.

Taking charge, I direct people to clear a path for the EMTs, sending someone to grab water, and keeping onlookers back. Through it all, I keep glancing at Blaze, who hasn't left Ruby's side. He's speaking to her in low, reassuring tones, his presence visibly calming her.

When the EMTs arrive, they work quickly, loading Orville onto a stretcher. His color is better, but he's still unconscious. Ruby clutches his hand until the last possible moment.

"I'm going with him," she announces, her voice brooking no argument.

The EMT closest to Ruby talks quietly, but I can still hear it."We have no way to get him to the hospital with the road blocked. We can take him back to the doctor's office, but there is only so much they can do there," he says.

Ruby nods, stepping away, and pulls her phone from her pocket. I wouldn't have noticed except my friend Olivia appears at my elbow, nudging me.

"Who's she calling?" Olivia whispers.

I watch as Ruby speaks urgently onto the phone, her back to the crowd. When she finishes, she rejoins the EMTs. Her face is set with determination.

"Ruby," I say, approaching her. "Who did you call?"

She meets my eyes, her gaze steady, but revealing nothing. "An old friend. That's all you need to know." Her tone is firm but kind, closing the subject.

Fifteen minutes later, the distinctive whump-whump of helicopter blades cuts through the air. Heads turn skyward as a sleek black helicopter descends onto the park on the other side of the road, behind the community center.

"Since when does county emergency services have a helicopter?" someone asks.

I squint at the aircraft. There's a logo on the side, partially visible. Definitely not county emergency services. Others see it too, and questions fly.

"Who owns that chopper?"

"Who has that kind of pull?"

The whispers ripple through the crowd as the EMTs transfer Orville to the helicopter, with Ruby climbing in beside him. Through it all, Blaze stays back, letting Ruby take center stage, not drawing attention to himself despite this being his family. The restraint speaks volumes.

After the helicopter disappears over the horizon, the swap continues in a subdued fashion. I try to restore some normalcy, but there's an emotional fog hanging over everything.

Olivia finds me as I'm helping break down tables. Her eyes are bright with excitement.

"I got a photo of the helicopter," she says, showing me her phone. "I'm going to dig. We're going to find out who this 'friend' really is."

I frown, concerned about her sudden obsession with this helicopter and Ruby's friend, but too distracted to address it properly. "Olivia, maybe we should respect Ruby's privacy."

"Since when do you back down from uncovering the truth?" She gives me a puzzled look before hurrying off.

As the last vendors pack up, Blaze materializes beside me. "Let me walk you home."

The sun hangs low in the sky as we make our way through town. We don't talk much. Both of us are feeling the weight of the day. His hand brushes against mine once, twice, before he gently takes it, lacing our fingers together. I let him.

At my front porch, I turn to face him, suddenly shy after everything we shared the other night. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and I lean into his touch despite my better judgment.

The moment shatters when his phone buzzes in his pocket. He glances at the screen, hesitates, then answers.

"Yeah?" His voice changes instantly, hardening into something I haven't heard before. Professional and distant.

I can hear the tinny voice on the other end and make out every few words.

"Tour's back on.... Open with Highway 55… PR clean.... You're needed.... We've got dates starting next week."

The words hit me like a physical blow. I step back, breaking contact with him, wrapping my arms around myself protectively.

Blaze's eyes widen. "I'll call you back," he says on the phone, then hangs up. "Grace--"

"If you're leaving, Blaze," I cut him off, my voice steady despite the storm inside me, "better you go now. I can't...."

"That's not--"

"Please." The word comes out sharper than I intended. I take a breath, soften my tone. "I need to be alone right now."

Before he can respond, I turn away and step inside, closing the door between us. I lean against it, sliding down until I'm sitting on the floor, tears falling silently down my cheeks.

Through the window, I can see his silhouette on my porch, looking down at the phone in his hand, clearly torn. But I've been left before. I know how this story ends.

And I won't survive it happening again.