Page 57 of The Light We Lost

I rolled my tongue against the inside of my cheek, holding back the truth. I wanted to buy Heath’s bar and I needed Dad’s money to do that, but I wasn’t doing this—spending time with Indy and resolving the past—for cash. I was doing it for her.

But I didn’t tell her that. “You’re running a fundraiser? That’s amazing.” I was grateful she had a solid reason for staying, and I was proud of her. “Look at you, coming in and saving the kids’ sports programs. There’s no way the town can deny how much they love you then.”

Her eyes widened. “I swear that’s not why I’m doing this—”

“I know you’re not.” Indy was the least selfish person I knew. “I was just stating the obvious. The town can only stick their heads in the sand for so long before they have to accept thetruth.”

She avoided my gaze. “The agency wants Calder to come down. It’ll be good publicity for him, and honestly, it’ll be good for him to get away. But are we . . . I mean, are you going to be okay with that?”

I straightened, regret heavy in my bones. After how I reacted in New York, I couldn’t say I blamed her for believing I wouldn’t be okay with it. “I’m looking forward to meeting him again. Tell me what I can do to help, and I’m there.”

She gave me a grateful smile, and because I craved another one, I said, “Well, if you’re worried that not working at the diner means your folks won’t like you staying at their place, then come stay with me. You’ll have to sleep in the basement, of course. But I’ll give you Lucky Charms every day, and if you’re extra good I might share Eugene with you—”

Indy laughed, her eyes crinkling, and even though it would hurt later, I relished in the sound, in her. She was so damn captivating, and she didn’t even know it.

She must’ve caught the way I was looking at her, because her laughter slowed and her smile faded. “Nolan?”

My fingers twitched at my side, and I fought like hell not to glance at her lips. “Yeah?”

“Do you think if your dad could see us, he’d be proud? Do you think he’s happy we’re trying to work together and say goodbye the right way?”

I blew out a breath, caught off guard. I didn’t know if he was watching us. If he was, he’d probably call me a fool. And I doubted he was proud. Not wanting to lie, I said in a low voice, “Yeah. I think he’s proud of you, peaches. Always has been.”

She smiled, apparently taking that as a win. It was a win for me too, because even though I was losing Indy at the end of the month, I wasn’t losing her today.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Indy—Now

“For the last time, I did not egg the station last night, nor did I pour syrup onto Sheriff Turner’s car.”

Patty, the secretary of the local sheriff’s department, raised a brow, looking at me like she’d caught me red-handed. “Come on,” I tried, fighting back a laugh. “If I did it, do you really think I’d come knocking the next morning? I’m smarter than that.”

She pursed her red lips. “You might. I watch TV—the perpetrator always returns to the crime scene. Real sickos, I tell ya.”

I laughed then. If I was going to be interrogated, I might as well enjoy it. “Right, well, I hope you catch whoever did it. And since I assume Sheriff Turner is busy, would you please give these to him? You’re welcome to one yourself—I made ’em, but it’s Dad’s recipe.”

She accepted the plate as I handed it over, eyeing it carefully. But if she thought the cupcakes I’d brought in as a small thank-you to Turner for agreeing to patrol the fundraiser were poisoned, she didn’t say so.

When I’d come to the station yesterday, I’d been prepared to beg for his help. Wallowpine might be a small community, but Calder Rohan coming to town would bring in a large crowd, and I wanted to be prepared. Despite looking less than enthused when I’d shared who the fundraiser would benefit, he’d beenquick to help. I didn’t care why he was doing it so long as he was willing. If I had to butter him up a little bit, then so be it.

Telling Patty I’d see her later—hopefully not, she’d shouted—I stepped out of the station and onto Main Street. Last night, I’d met with Lisa, and we’d begun to plan. She’d reserved the football field for the event, and all of the school’s sports teams agreed to run a carnival game. All morning, I’d been making my way through the local businesses, seeing if they’d like to donate or contribute to the event. It was slim pickings in a town so small there wasn’t even a coffee shop, so eventually I’d need to go to Hillshire and see if anyone wanted to participate.

I made my way down the quiet street, ignoring the flicker of hurt as I saw the diner. It was open, busy even with my parents out of town. Despite our conversation, Mom had told me I was welcome to stay as long as I liked. But she seemed surprised when I called after they landed and revealed I was sticking around, quick to remind me they didn’t need the help. I’d assured her that wasn’t why I was staying.

I wasn’t even staying for the sake of my reputation. It hurt to know that some people in this town would always dislike me, but I knew Nolan had been right the other night when he’d told me we couldn’t do this for anyone but ourselves.

I was staying so we could find closure. So Nolan could feel at peace with his dad and earn the money he’d left for him to buy the bar. Most of all, I was staying for me.

In need of a sure yes, I pushed open the door to Graham—Bait and Game, bracing myself. To no surprise, most of the shop was how I remembered it. There were aisles of hunting gear and fishing supplies, with antlers and a few bear skins adorning the wall. I imagined if I looked beneath the back counter, I’d find the small initials Nolan and I had once engraved into it.

But right off the bat, it was easy to spot what was different. I would’ve felt it even with my eyes closed. No longer would I walk through these doors and hear Wayne Graham’s laugh.

Never again would I eat one of his memorable peanut butter and butter sandwiches or hear him holler at Nolan for locking him inside his office. See him silently console his sons, the steady foundation of his family.

He was gone. Missing from everything.

Nolan stepped out of his office, wearing dark blue jeans and a plain white T-shirt, his frame long and lean. His ball cap was on backward, his hair long enough it curled beneath the edges. The sight alone was enough to make any grown woman’s knees buckle, even more so when he grinned. “I’m sorry, but we have a strict no-solicitors policy. Unless you’ve got some of those delicious desserts I saw you handing out, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

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