Chapter 30
30
T he day of the Rocky Mountain oyster fry dawned clear and crisp, the blue Wyoming sky stretching endlessly overhead, unmarred except for a single white jet trail cutting across the expanse, a silent reminder of life beyond Thunder Mountain. A light breeze fluttered through the town square outside the community center, carrying with it the distinct tang of frying oil and the earthy scent of freshly mown grass. Tables lined with checkered cloths stretched across the square, heaped with homemade pies, casseroles, and of course, platters of crispy fried Rocky Mountain oysters.
Capri stood off to the side, watching the crowd slowly grow as more townspeople trickled in. Kids darted around, weaving through the legs of adults carrying plates piled high with food. Laughter and conversation hummed in the background, blending with the distant music filtering out from the speakers Reva had set up near the makeshift stage.
Capri scanned the crowd, her eyes falling on Charlie Grace, who was laughing with some ranch hands from the guest ranch. She looked more relaxed than Capri had seen her in weeks. Maybe it was the success of the oyster fry—or maybe it was Nick Thatcher, who stood beside her, looking as rugged as ever in his jeans and worn boots, a baseball cap shielding his eyes from the sun.
Capri couldn’t help but smirk. Who would’ve thought Charlie Grace would end up dating a big-shot production designer from Los Angeles?
As the smell of frying oysters thickened, Capri drifted closer to the food table, eyeing the thermometer display Reva had placed by the stage. A thick red line crept toward the top, but so far, the line was far from reaching their goal.
The donations had been pouring in all day, but despite the best efforts of the town, they were still short. She crossed her arms, feeling a knot of worry in her stomach. They had to make this work. The earthquake remediation mandate was breathing down their necks, and without enough money to retrofit the town’s buildings, Thunder Mountain would be in serious trouble and subject to possible fines—let alone if a much bigger quake ever hit.
“You look like you’re ready to wrestle a bear,” Reva’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. She stood beside Capri, holding a clipboard, her signature no-nonsense expression softening as she followed Capri’s gaze to the donation thermometer. “We’ll get there. People are still coming in.”
Capri sighed. “I hope so. I don’t know how much more we can do. The raffle’s just about wrapped up, and we’re still short.”
Reva tilted her head, glancing around. The square was packed with townsfolk—familiar faces that had been there through the ups and downs of Thunder Mountain life. Oma, as always, sat in her lawn chair with a thermos of coffee by her side, a tray of cinnamon rolls perched precariously on her lap. The Knit Wit ladies were huddled together, knitting needles clicking as they chatted between bites of pie. Pastor Pete and his wife, Annie, were making the rounds, shaking hands and offering words of gratitude. Even Albie Barton, the town’s newspaper reporter, was there, scribbling notes furiously as if the fry was the biggest event to hit the town in years.
Nicola Cavendish, Thunder Mountain’s self-appointed gossip queen, stood near the donation booth, her tiny Yorkie, Sweetpea, yapping incessantly at passersby. Capri cringed as Nicola waved a hand dramatically, her husband Wooster standing beside her, looking as though he’d rather be anywhere else. Nicola’s voice was loud enough to carry across the square, though anyone who knew her also knew that was part of the charm—or the curse, depending on the day.
“I heard Marjorie Pembroke’s niece is moving back to town,” Nicola announced, clutching Sweetpea under one arm as the little dog squirmed. “Word is she’s fresh out of a nasty divorce. Wouldn’t surprise me if she’s after Mayor Reva’s job next, mark my words!”
Capri caught Reva’s eye from across the square, and the mayor just sighed, shaking her head with a resigned smile. “At least Nicola’s consistent,” Reva muttered as she approached Capri, nodding toward Nicola, who was now shoving a fried oyster into Wooster’s mouth to quiet him. Poor man barely got a word in edgewise.
“Do you think her dog ever stops yapping?” Capri asked, stifling a laugh as Sweetpea let out another high-pitched bark.
“If Sweetpea’s ever quiet, it’s because Nicola’s talking louder,” Reva said dryly. “Though between the two of them, I’m not sure which one is more annoying.”
Capri smirked. “I’d say it’s a tie.”
She glanced around at the crowd. “Still no sign of those TV people?” she asked, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the crowd for the Bear Country crew. She’d hoped their presence would bring in more donations, maybe even some publicity for their cause.
“Oh, they’re around,” Reva said, a slight smile playing on her lips. “Nick’s already handed out flyers to his crew. They’re probably stuffing their faces with oysters somewhere.”
Capri raised a brow, glancing at Charlie Grace and Nick again. The way Charlie Grace leaned into him, her hand resting on his arm, made Capri’s face break into a pleased grin.
Her smile widened as she caught sight of Jake making his way toward her, a familiar warmth settling in her chest. The earlier uncertainty that had once held her back seemed like a distant memory now. She no longer fought against the pull she felt toward him; instead, she welcomed this new relationship and the way he made her all tingly inside.
As he drew closer, his eyes locked on hers, and a slow, easy grin spread across his face. It wasn’t the kind of smile that demanded anything—just the kind that told her he was there, confident and sure, ready for whatever came next. She let her hands fall from her pockets and met him halfway, the sense of rightness in the moment undeniable. For the first time in a long while, she wasn’t running from anything.
“Hey,” she said, turning her cheek toward him.
“Hey, yourself,” Jake whispered softly near her ear, his breath warm as he brushed a gentle kiss across her skin.
A sudden clatter drew their attention back to the food table, where Betty Dunning had knocked over a tray of her infamous meat pies. Capri stifled a laugh as Betty scrambled to gather them, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I swear, these pies have a mind of their own,” Betty muttered, brushing off crumbs with a huff. She shot a good-natured glare at the nearby kids giggling at the mishap, then straightened up, the pie tray in hand, as if nothing had happened.
Capri exchanged an amused glance with Reva, who shook her head with a grin. It was moments like this—little bits of chaos in the middle of something so community-driven—that reminded Capri why she loved this town.
Just then, Charlie Grace called out, waving them over. “Capri! Reva! You’ve gotta try these oysters! They’re even better than last year.”
Capri walked across the square with Jake by her side, their shoulders brushing as they moved through the lively crowd. The sun was warm on her skin, the air filled with the sounds of laughter, clinking dishes, and the sizzle of frying oysters. Jake nudged her with a smile, but her eyes were still drawn to the thermometer by the stage, the red line stubbornly stuck below their goal. Even as Charlie Grace handed them both plates of food, Capri’s focus remained on that line, her thoughts swirling around the daunting gap they still needed to fill. Jake seemed to sense her tension, giving her a reassuring squeeze on the arm as if to say they’d figure it out, one way or another.
“Think we’re going to make it?” Charlie Grace asked, her voice low, eyes also on the donation tracker.
“Not unless a miracle happens,” Capri muttered, taking a bite of an oyster. “Everyone in town has rallied and given far beyond what is reasonable. We’ve done everything we can.” She paused.
Charlie Grace opened her mouth to reply, but before she could speak, Nick stepped forward, his deep voice cutting through the noise. “We’re short, huh?” he said, hands on his hips as he surveyed the scene.
Capri gave a brief nod. “We’re still about eight thousand less than what we’d hoped to raise. Despite all the food, pies, beer, and raffles, we haven’t managed to close the gap.”
Nick glanced at Charlie Grace, a knowing smile passing between them. Then he turned, raising his voice so the crowd could hear. “I think we can fix that.”
His words cut through the chatter, and suddenly all eyes were on him. He stepped onto the small stage where Reva had been making announcements earlier, and for a moment, Capri wasn’t sure what he was about to do.
Nick cleared his throat, gripping the microphone with one hand, his other hand resting casually in his pocket. “I know how much this town means to Charlie Grace—and to everyone here. Bear Country has had the privilege of filming in this beautiful part of the world, and we know how important it is to preserve what makes Thunder Mountain special. So, on behalf of our production team, I’m making a donation to cover the rest of what’s needed.”
Gasps echoed through the crowd, and Capri’s heart skipped a beat.
Reva stepped forward, wide-eyed. “Wait, you’re serious?”
Nick nodded, his smile widening. “Every penny.”
For a moment, there was stunned silence. Then the crowd erupted into cheers and applause, the sound reverberating off the old brick buildings that surrounded the square. Capri found herself grinning despite the knot of tension that had been coiled in her chest all day.
Charlie Grace beamed up at Nick, her face flushed with pride. She wrapped her arms around him, planting a quick kiss on his cheek as he chuckled, clearly enjoying the attention.
Capri caught Reva’s eye, and they exchanged a look of relief. The fundraiser was a success. Thunder Mountain had pulled through once again.
As the applause died down, Nick handed the microphone to Reva, who smiled at him, her expression full of gratitude. “I don’t think we can thank you enough, Nick.”
Nick just shrugged. “It’s the least we could do. Besides, you haven’t seen the bill for all the food we’ve eaten yet.”
The crowd laughed, and the atmosphere shifted, lighter and more relaxed now that the pressure was off. Capri stood back, watching as townsfolk mingled and laughed, a feeling of peace settling over her. The day wasn’t just about the money raised—it was about the people. The town coming together, just as they always did, to support each other.
As she glanced back at the sky, the plane’s white trail had faded, disappearing into the blue expanse. But here on the ground, Thunder Mountain’s community stood strong, and for the first time in weeks, Capri felt like maybe things would be okay after all.