“Gee, thanks,” Capri muttered, shifting against the stiff hospital sheets. “I live for your encouragement.”
Charlie Grace grinned as she set a bag of kettle corn on the bedside table, the buttery, slightly sweet aroma a welcome contrast to the antiseptic air. “We heard about your cranky mood and figured we’d better intervene before the nurses staged a rebellion.”
Reva crossed her legs, looking particularly proud of herself. “I’ve already taken steps to make sure an accident like this never happens again. I’m talking major steps.”
Capri narrowed her eyes. “What kind of steps?”
“The town council met with state and U.S. Park Service officials yesterday. We’re getting state-of-the-art avalanche mitigation equipment, expanded rescue teams, and—wait for it—an emergency response fund that will ensure no one has to rely on just a locator beacon and a prayer ever again.”
“That’s…impressive,” Capri admitted, her voice sober.
Reva shrugged, but there was steel in her gaze. “The avalanche made national news, Capri. Everyone’s watching. We needed to act fast.”
The mention of the avalanche sent a chill through the warm room. The scent of kettle corn, the rustling of plastic snack bags, even the distant sound of beeping monitors faded as Capri’s thoughts drifted.
Her voice softened. “Have they…held the funerals yet?”
A silence settled over the room, heavy and unspoken. Reva exchanged a glance with Charlie Grace, who then looked at Lila.
Reva cleared her throat and shifted in her seat. “Let’s talk about something else.”
Before Capri could press further, Lila reached into her oversized purse and, with a triumphant smile, pulled out a bottle of champagne, along with a set of plastic flutes. “We’re going to need the nurses to get us some ice,” she announced.
Capri blinked at her. “We’re drinking? In a hospital?”
Charlie Grace smirked. “Of course, we are. Providing you are not on painkillers.”
“I haven’t taken any for nearly twelve hours,” Capri quickly assured while glancing at the wall clock. A wide grin formed. “I can skip the upcoming dose. I’ve missed our Friday night get-togethers.”
“Us too.” Reva stood, smoothing a wrinkle from her skirt. “But you’re limited to one glass. Wait here,” she said before disappearing into the hallway. Moments later, she returned with a small bucket of ice and a can of Diet Coke in hand. “For me,” she said with a pointed look.
Lila popped the cork, the soft pop echoing in the small room, followed by the fizzy rush of champagne filling the cups.
She lifted her glass. “A toast is in order.”
Charlie Grace arched a brow. “A toast?”
Lila’s smile widened as she looked at each of them in turn. “Yes,” she said, her voice brimming with pent-up excitement. “I’m going to be a grandmother.”
Capri’s jaw dropped. Charlie Grace’s drink nearly sloshed over the rim.
“Oh. My. Word.” Reva’s eyes went round. “Are you serious?”
Lila offered a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Dead serious. Camille showed up out of nowhere after leaving school and dropped the news on me. I’ve been sitting with it, trying to wrap my head around everything.”
Capri let out a laugh, shaking her head. “Well, that is amazing news. Guess we do have something to celebrate.”
She raised her glass, a genuine smile tugging at her lips for the first time in days. Maybe she was laid up in this bed, feeling like she’d never be herself again—but life outside was still moving forward.
And that was something worth toasting to.
15
Charlie Grace stood just outside the security checkpoint of the Jackson Hole Airport. The terminal held clusters of travelers in fleece jackets and hiking boots, ski bags slung over shoulders.
Coffee warmed her hands through the Styrofoam cup as she took a sip, then lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the sunlight shining in from the tarmac, where a handful of private jets and regional planes stood against the vast mountain backdrop.
She spotted Nick Thatcher before he saw her, his easy stride unmistakable in the thinning crowd. He carried that effortless presence—broad shoulders, dark hair a little tousled, a well-cut blazer over a black tee that somehow made him look both polished and rugged at once.
