Lila’s chest tightened. It wasn’t the same, not to her. She’d sacrificed the traditional college experience for necessity, for survival. She’d wanted more for Camille, had dreamed of her daughter walking across a campus brimming with possibility, surrounded by friends and a world of new opportunities. But this pregnancy had rerouted Camille’s life, pushing her down a path that Lila hadn’t imagined for her.
“I’m proud of you,” Lila said finally, her voice steady but soft. “No matter what. You know that, right?”
Camille nodded, but she didn’t look up. The silence between them stretched, filled with the weight of things unspoken. Lila wanted to press, to understand, but something in her daughter’s posture told her it was better to wait. For now, this was all Camille could give.
As Lila rose to start tidying up the kitchen, her gaze lingered on the faint reflection of mother and daughter in the window over the sink. Two women standing at different crossroads, bound together by love and the hope that the choices they made today would lead to brighter tomorrows. And like the moon, waxing and waning in its quiet rhythm, they would find their way, even in the shadowed moments.
For every phase had its purpose, and every path its light.
10
Charlie Grace Rivers turned her truck into the gravel driveway of the Teton Trails Guest Ranch, the crunch of tires on ice the only sound in the quiet predawn morning. Her sharp eyes immediately caught sight of a familiar truck parked near the barn. Gibbs’ truck.
A flicker of curiosity mixed with annoyance tightened her chest. What was he doing here? Normally, Gibbs didn’t show up for work on time, let alone hours early.
With a resigned sigh, she parked her truck near the porch and stepped out, taking care not to slip. Her gaze lingered on the barn, where faint cracks of light peeked through the edges of the big sliding door.
Charlie Grace adjusted her hat, tugged her coat tighter against the crisp chill, and made her way in that direction. The scent of hay and wood smoke hung in the air, and the mountains stood sentinel in the distance, their snowy peaks a silent witness to whatever awaited her.
Charlie Grace’s marriage to Gibbs had been a masterclass in frustration. He was unreliable and untrustworthy, with a wandering eye and a tendency to let his charm roam as freely as a stray calf. That was bad enough, but he was also irresponsibly absent when it came to the heavy lifting. The ranch work, the housework, raising their daughter, Jewel—it all fell squarely on Charlie Grace’s shoulders. Gibbs, meanwhile, played the fun parent, swooping in for movie nights and ice cream runs, leaving her to nag about homework and clean up the messes he left behind.
She’d about throttled her dad when he went behind her back and hired Gibbs to help at the ranch. It was no surprise when she caught Gibbs in the hayloft with Albie’s niece, Lizzy—or when he got her pregnant.
Since marrying Lizzy, Gibbs seemed—for lack of a better word—different. His womanizing days appeared to have settled, replaced by the steady responsibilities of being a husband and, more recently, a father.
Maybe he believed this was his chance. A fresh start. A do-over. Maybe he’d finally decided to be the man he’d always claimed he could be. Charlie Grace couldn’t decide whether that notion annoyed her or made her hopeful—for Lizzy and the baby’s sake, of course. Not for her own.
She reached the barn and hesitated for a moment, hand poised on the door handle. The faint sound of muffled voices reached her ears. Her brow furrowed as she slid the door open just enough to slip inside, her boots barely making a sound on the barn’s dirt floor.
Inside, Gibbs stood near the tack wall, his broad back to her, gesturing animatedly as he spoke to someone out of view. The warm light from the overhead bulb cast long shadows across the hay-strewn floor, and the scene felt oddly intimate, even though Charlie Grace doubted it was anything more than practical ranch talk.
“Gibbs,” she called, her voice cutting through the barn’s quiet. Her tone was calm, but it carried the weight of years of shared history—some good, some not.
Gibbs turned, his expression startled before quickly settling into that familiar, boyish grin. “Charlie Grace. Didn’t expect to see you here.”
Charlie Grace glanced around. “Who were you talking to?”
“Who? Me?”
She frowned. “No, the scarecrow in the corner. Of course, you.” She looked around again, puzzled. “Are you alone?”
Gibbs’ face flamed as he turned and patted the nuzzle on the horse in the pen. “Just chatting with Mr. Ed.”
“You were carrying on a conversation with a horse?” She shook her head. “Whatever.”
He dipped his hand in a bucket of grain and brought it to the horse’s mouth. “Hey, we’re buddies, aren’t we Mr. Ed?”
He turned. “How’s Capri doing?”
Capri slipped her hands deep inside her coat pockets. “No doubt, she’ll be in traction for a couple of weeks. Then, when she’s released and comes home, she’ll still need a lot of assistance. Jake’s stepping up to take care of her while she recovers.”
“What about her mother?”
She shrugged. “Her mom is pretty wrapped up in her new husband. I don’t think she wanted to leave him in Idaho, even temporarily.” While she didn’t say so, it irked her that Capri’s mother was so self-focused. Especially after everything Capri had always done to take care of her mom.
She supposed it was true. There were women whose sole being and purpose was wrapped up in a man at the expense of everything, and everyone, else.
Charlie Grace let out a heavy sigh. “I doubt Capri will be riding any snowmobiles or charging rapids in a raft any time soon. She’ll be doing well to get herself dressed every day.”
