Reva leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “Gibbs, I’m here because I have made a decision about the sheriff’s position.”
Gibbs face immediately filled with disappointment. “I understand.”
Reva shook her head. “It’s not what you’re thinking. After a lot of thought—and some prayer—I’d like to officially offer you the position of Sheriff of Thunder Mountain.”
Gibbs’ jaw slackened. Lizzy gasped softly and pressed a hand to her mouth. The baby thudded his drumstick on the floor, oblivious.
“You’re serious?” Gibbs said, voice rough.
“As serious as it gets,” Reva replied. “This isn’t just a badge and a title. It’s a trust. The whole town will be depending on you, Gibbs. To keep them safe, yes—but also to be reliable, and never to let them down. Fair. Steady. Strong, even when things get tough.”
Reva looked him directly in the eyes. “Do you understand, Gibbs?”
Gibbs’ eyes shone as he nodded slowly, almost like he didn’t trust himself to speak yet.
“I’ll expect you to attend additional training. You’ll work closely with the council. You’ll need to build bridges, not walls. And you have to live like every kid out there is watching you—because they are. No more…” She paused, searching for the right words. “Misdeeds,” she finally said.
He swallowed hard, glancing at Lizzy, who was now openly crying. She crossed to him and grabbed his hand.
“I won’t let you down, Mayor,” he promised.
“You may have heard,” Reva added gently. “Hiring you will be one of my last official acts as mayor.”
Lizzy’s head jerked up. “You’re quitting?” she whispered.
Reva gave a small nod, her throat tightening. “Not quitting. Leaving. Kellen and I are moving to Georgia soon. Family duties call.”
Gibbs rubbed a hand over his short hair, stunned. “You’re the heart of this town, Reva. Thunder Mountain simply won’t be the same without you at the helm.”
“I’m just one part of this community,” she said, her voice steady. “It’s your time now. Don’t let them down.”
He stood up straighter, still clutching Lizzy’s hand. “I won’t. I swear it.”
The toddler, sensing the serious mood, waddled over and tugged at Reva’s boot with a sticky hand. She laughed softly and reached down, ruffling the boy’s blond hair.
“Looks like you’ve already got a good deputy,” she said, straightening.
Gibbs chuckled, a little shaky. “Thank you for this chance, Reva. I’ll make you proud.”
“You already have,” she said, glancing at his wife and son.
As she walked back out onto the porch, the door swinging shut behind her, Reva paused for a moment to take it all in—the chaos, the love, the hope. Thunder Mountain would be just fine.
She smiled, blinking against the sting in her eyes, and headed for her car.
27
Weeks had passed, but the quiet ache in Reva’s heart hadn’t dulled as Kellen pulled into the Community Center field. Cars lined both sides of the gravel drive, a few with their doors open wide like the arms of old friends. Kids darted between rows of folding tables, their hands and faces sticky with melting snow cones. A bluegrass band strummed near the old oak tree, the sharp twang of the banjo mixing with the distant clang of a cowbell somewhere out of sight.
Reva smiled despite the tight knot in her chest. Only in Thunder Mountain would a farewell party look more like a county fair.
Kellen parked his truck beneath a sprawling cottonwood, its leaves now golden. Lucan was out first, clutching a framed photograph they’d brought along—the one of Reva, Capri, Charlie Grace, and Lila as kids, sunburned and grinning with their arms slung around each other.
Lucan cradled the framed photo like it was treasure. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep it safe!” he said, puffing out his chest.
Reva tousled his curls, her heart squeezing. “I know you will, buddy.”
She took a breath, feeling the familiar pinch behind her throat. Today was it. The official goodbye. No more stalling, no more pretending. By this time tomorrow, they’d be heading east toward Georgia—and toward a future she could barely bring herself to imagine.
