Her mind flickered to all the times Gibbs Nichols had let people down. The youthful recklessness. The broken promises. The hot temper that had once been a little too quick to spark. The pain he’d caused Charlie Grace…multiple times.
Could people really change?
Or did they just get better at hiding the parts of themselves that disappointed you?
She sighed, picking up a résumé from the pile, but her eyes didn’t track the words. Her mind replayed the way Gibbs had stood there—no excuses, no swagger, just raw honesty.
And maybe, just maybe, that counted for more than a perfect record.
Reva leaned back again, the pen twirling slowly between her fingers. This wasn’t a simple choice. It never was when it came to people you cared about.
But maybe, just maybe, the best leaders weren’t the ones with the cleanest pasts. Maybe they were the ones who knew how badly it hurt to fall—and how hard you had to fight to stand back up.
Another knock sounded again at her door, pulling her from her thoughts.
This time, she smiled wryly.
News sure did travel fast in Thunder Mountain.
23
Two days later, Reva sat behind the wheel of her SUV in the Moose Chapel parking lot, fingers curled around the steering wheel. The evening air was crisp, her breath ghosting lightly on the windshield as she exhaled. She hadn’t even turned on the engine.
Inside the church, the folding chairs were already stacked, the coffee urn scrubbed clean, the faint echoes of murmured prayers and clinking mugs still fresh in her mind. Tonight’s AA meeting had been different. Raw. She had stood and said words she hadn’t uttered in years—not even to Kellen.
“I made a big decision that is going to affect me and those I love in profound ways. I’m scared. Not that I made the wrong decision, but that I’m not strong enough for what comes next. And I can’t fix this by working harder, planning better, or pretending I’m more resilient than I am.”
The room had nodded with a kind of sacred understanding, but now that she was alone, the vulnerability pressed heavier on her chest than any mountain.
Her phone buzzed against the console.
A group text.
Lila: “Rustic Pine. Tonight.”
Capri: “No arguments, Nygard. We know you’re busy. But it’s been nearly three weeks.”
Charlie Grace: “We’re ordering your favorite burger. So, no excuses.”
A laugh—sharp and unexpected—bubbled out of Reva’s throat. Guilty as charged. She had been a bit distant since returning from Georgia, and on purpose. No one knew her better, and she simply wasn’t ready to risk having to tell them. Not yet. But leave it to her girlfriends to know when she needed some fun.
She wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket and put the car into gear.
The Rustic Pine’s weathered sign swung lightly in the breeze as Reva pulled into a vacant parking spot. Through the wide front windows, she spotted them immediately—her girls—huddled in their favorite corner booth. A candle flickered between them, catching the glint of Capri’s earrings and Charlie Grace's tumbling curls.
Reva hesitated on the sidewalk, suddenly unsure if she could handle this tonight—the looks in their eyes, the tenderness she wasn’t sure she deserved. But then Lila caught her gaze through the window, smiled softly, and mouthed, “Come on.”
Taking a deep breath, she exited her vehicle and made her way to the entrance.
She pushed through the door, the warm rush of old wood and laughter enveloping her like a blanket. Annie Cumberland stopped polishing some glasses and waved from behind the bar. Someone—probably Nicola Cavendish—was butchering karaoke in the back room. All of it so achingly familiar.
“Hey, stranger,” Capri called, sliding over to make room.
Charlie Grace patted the chair beside her. “Look at you, showing up late and still scoring the best seat.”
Reva sank into the offered seat, the weight of their welcome undoing something brittle inside her. Before she could say a word, Lila reached across the table and set a thick, dripping cheeseburger in front of her, complete with onion rings stacked like a crown.
“We’ve missed you,” Lila said simply.
