could have been, had things been different. He cares deep. No matter the circumstances of his birth, I’m glad he’s in the world.
“And your baby girl, Scarlett Rose. Shit, she’s a force of nature, but hell if that girl doesn’t know how to live. She’s a big splash of color and light in our lives and her loyalty is unshakable. Mama, you’d be so proud of her. Honestly, I think you’d be proud of all of us. And maybe you are, I don’t know.
“I wish you could see what your life together really accomplished. Maybe it wasn’t a career in music, traveling the world. But I think it was something a lot bigger and more important than that. You created a family. A dysfunctional, sometimes fucked-up family, but a good one anyway. Full of the best people I know and a hell of a lot of love. If that’s the legacy I get to leave when I’m gone, I’ll have had a life worth living.”
Looking down at the grass, I took another deep breath. I didn’t know what I believed about death and the afterlife. So I wasn’t sure if me speaking up now made a lick of difference. I doubted they could hear me.
But I wasn’t really here for them anyway.
Satisfied, I left. Took my truck back to the park where my girl and my faithful one-eyed dog were waiting for me. Kinda like an old country song, only without the sad ending.
Maybe I’d just have to write one of my own.
44
CALLIE
The air was getting cooler, but the town-wide party was still going strong. Someone started stringing up lights between the trees. Music played from the big speakers we’d used for my press conference and an impromptu square dance competition was in full swing.
Gibson strolled back across the grass. He was still ruggedly handsome, with those sharp cheekbones, square bearded jaw, and broad shoulders. But there was something different. The nearly-perpetual furrow in his brow was smooth and his icy blue eyes were clear—almost sparkling.
Cash woke from his nap, his tail already wagging, and jumped up to greet his daddy.
“Hey, buddy.” He crouched down to rough him up a little. Cash rolled onto his back so Gibson could rub his tummy.
“Hey, you,” I said, smiling at him.
“Hey, yourself.” He leaned over and kissed me.
Cash jumped between us, trying to lick both our mouths at once.
Gibson laughed, sputtering. “Down, boy.”
“You look happy,” I said.
He sat down next to me, and Cash settled in his lap. “Happiest guy in the world.”
I was, too. I’d never—not once in my life—felt so peaceful. So calm and assured. I could be myself, without fear. The people who’d hurt me would never hurt another person again.
I’d run away from this very town, seeking freedom. Returning here, I’d finally found it. Freedom, and so much more.
I’d found community and family. These were my people. Every last one of these moonshine-drinking, hooting, hollering, gossiping, food-delivering people. They’d always included and accepted me. And since I’d come back, they’d taken that to a whole new level. They’d shown me the kind of love you only read about in stories—the ones with nice, happy endings.
The kind of love that could overpower even the worst sort of evil.
And I’d found Gibson Bodine. A man who’d always had a little piece of my heart. Who’d been kind and decent to me. Made me feel safe and happy at a time when I’d desperately needed it. Who’d loved and protected me. Fought for me with everything he had.
I wasn’t sure if I deserved all that, but I was going to spend the rest of my life loving him. Hoping it was enough.
An old Volkswagen van pulled up on the street on the edge of the park—where Misty Lynn had been before she’d left. That was odd. It seemed like the whole town was here already. And that looked a lot like…
Grabbing Gibson’s arm, I gasped, sitting up straight. “Oh my god. Is that—?”
The door opened and a woman with a crocheted shawl over a long, loose-fitting dress stepped out. Her dark silver-streaked hair was in a bun and she wore a wide tie-dyed headband. She had bangles on both wrists and a crystal on a chain around her neck. She looked around with a pleasant, almost dreamy smile. Henna Holly, the woman who’d become my mom.
Quincy came around the front of the van, still looking like he’d stepped right out of the nineteen-sixties. Long hair, gone gray, with a thin headband around