Page 126 of Rocky Mountain Devil

Except he hesitated when she pulled into the back alley behind the Principal Jamieson’s house, her gaze darting like a cat burglar’s as she crawled out of the truck.

“What are—?”

She pressed a finger over her lips to demand silence, eyes going wide.

He shut up.

Laurel pulled open the back gate cautiously, glancing toward the house before tilting her head for him to follow her. Rafe obeyed, not quite sure how getting arrested for breaking-and-entering was going to be helpful.

Only, she slid to the side of the garage and started rooting in the snow, and he was one second away from bursting out laughing in spite of everything. The Jamiesons’ backyard was a sea of lost-and-found items, and garage-sale trinkets that never quite made it to the dump. They’d nailed solo gloves in layers to a telephone post, old skis to the fence, and flower pots full of artificial flowers filled every available bit of space between the garden gnomes and driftwood.

She made a low noise of triumph before twirling toward him, a big bouquet of plastic prairie crocuses in her fist. The pale purple flowers were dusted with snow, but she shook them wildly as she headed for the alley at a dead run.

Rafe chased after her. He lifted her into the cab, pushing her over so he could get behind the wheel and take off, tires spinning in the snow. “B&E charges. Was that really the next thing on our to-do list, Sitko?”

“I’ll find them new ones,” she promised. “But I figured this was one time it was okay to ask forgiveness instead of permission.”

He knew exactly where this was headed. “Those are for my mom, aren’t they?”

Rafe kept his eyes on the road as she laid her head on his shoulder, pouring her warmth and strength into him. “When I had dinner with Dana last night, there was a picture on the table. She said they used to go for walks when your brothers were young, and he’d give them to her. It sounded as if the memory meant a lot to her.”

He nodded. “I saw it.”

Laurel twisted to face him. “I know Ben was a bitter old man, but he was once a loving young man, and that’s who she’s remembering today. Isn’t it worth letting go of some hurtful memories for her sake?”

There was no answer to that, because she was right.

The church parking lot was mostly empty, and Rafe took a deep breath then continued on to the graveyard. The sick feeling in his gut was horrid, mostly because he knew he should have been there earlier.

But Laurel took his hand and walked beside him to where his family was gathered. Her fingers in his warm and strong. Grounding him enough to keep him putting one foot in front of the other.

He’d expected condemnation or anger. What he got was acceptance as his mom offered her hands and pulled him in tight for a hug. He held her, meeting Gabe’s eyes over her shoulder. His brother nodded slowly then patted his back.

Rafe choked out the words. “I’m sorry, Mom. I should have been there for you.”

She kissed his cheek, turning a wan smile his direction. “Yes, you should have been, but you’re here now.” She glanced beside him at Laurel. “And you’re not being a fool anymore, so I forgive you.”

Laurel stepped forward. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she said quietly. “Do you need anything?”

“Just for the morning to be over,” Dana said.

Someone called for them to gather, and Rafe found himself standing with his mom on his left, and Laurel on his right. Gabe and Allison and the rest of the family gathered close as Pastor Dave spoke.

The words didn’t register, but Rafe was hyperaware of everything else around them. Sorrowful expressions, moisture-filled eyes. A blast of wind whipped past

His uncles came forward, and it finally registered what this day meant to them as well. Ben had been their brother. He might have gotten mean and broken by the end, but they’d climbed trees with him. Plowed fields, and done chores, and—

For a second he could barely breathe, remembering the pain of losing Mike. Thinking of losingGabe.

The only thing that stopped him from breaking down and weeping like a baby right then and there was the warmth of Laurel’s hand in his.

Pastor Dave finished speaking, nodding to the attendants. The casket lowered on its rigging, moving out of sight. Someone—his cousin Steve?—began singing, and slowly more voices joined in. Even after his long absence from the church, he recognizedAmazing Grace, and Rafe stood and listened.

The tune was familiar, but this was the first time he’d really listened to the lyrics in years, and he caught himself squeezing Laurel’s fingers tightly as her sweet voice rang out as if she were singing to him.

’Twas Grace that taught my heart to fear.

And grace, my fears relieved.