Chapter 61
City Limits Café Leigh had outdone herself on the dessert bar, and Mary Lou and Ned held court near the coffee urns.
Rosie trotted through the crowd in a fresh Christmas bandanna, tail wagging, collecting dropped morsels and shameless attention.
Music played low over the speakers—old country Christmas, a little bluegrass.
Burke stood near the small stage Willow used for open-mic nights. Caitlin was at his side, fingers looped around his forearm. When the chatter finally thinned, he cleared his throat and raised his glass.
“All right,” he said. “Before Willow brings out the next round of food and Rosie eats us out of house and home…”
Light laughter rippled through the crowd. Rosie barked once, like she knew her cue.
Burke’s smile eased. When he spoke again, his voice dropped.
“I wanted to say thank you. To every single one of you in this place—and a few who couldn’t make it tonight.
“These last weeks took a lot out of this town. Out of all of us. We lost one of our own in Lauren Pierce. We almost lost two more.” And we found out that someone we thought we knew—someone who sat at our tables, played poker with us, taught our kids—was capable of things we still can’t quite wrap our heads around. ”
The crowd went quiet.
He glanced toward the back table where Sara sat with a couple of deputies. Tessa stood nearer the bookshelves, shoulder to shoulder with Scout. Both women carried new shadows around their eyes.
“But you showed up,” Burke said. “You searched those ridges. You answered every call. You did your jobs, and more than that—you looked out for each other. That’s what this town does. That’s what this department does.”
He lifted his glass a little higher.
“To Sara,” he said. “To Tessa. To every one of you who refused to quit.”
A low murmur rolled through the café as glasses lifted. “And,” Burke added, a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth, “to Rosie, who once again proved she’s the smartest one among us.”
The cheer that followed broke the tension. Rosie barked, tail thumping, and Caitlin laughed, leaning up to kiss Burke’s cheek as he stepped down.
Later, near the back where the café blended into the bookstore, Tessa stood thumbing the spine of a paperback she didn’t really see.
Sara stepped in beside her, close enough to stand with her without crowding.
They exchanged a look. Nothing formal. Just two survivors.
Sara let out a breath. “It’s going to be a long time before I read a book. Or write anything.”
Tessa huffed out a quiet, surprised laugh. “Amen to that.”
For a moment, something eased between them.
Without thinking, Tessa reached out and squeezed Sara’s hand—once, quick.
Sara squeezed back. A voice from the tables called her name.
Scout caught Sara just off the kitchen, out of the noise.
“Sara,” he said quietly. “I want to tell you something.”
She frowned a little. “Okay.”
“You can’t know how glad I am to have you back. In one piece.” He swallowed, searching for the next part. “But I need you to know… I have feelings for Tessa. I care about you. I always have. But—”
She shook her head, a small, crooked smile already there.
“Scout, I know,” she said. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other.”
He went still.
“I had a lot of time to think,” Sara said. “And I get it now. We love each other, yeah. But it’s… family. That’s what you are to me.”
Something in his shoulders eased.
“Yeah,” he said softly. “Same.” She turned to go, then glanced back over her shoulder. “Hey, Wilson?”
“Yeah?”
She wrinkled her nose. “You two make me sick, by the way.”
He huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, well. Join the club.”
Her smile went real then, crinkling the corners of her eyes. They both laughed, the knot between them finally gone.
From his spot near the coffee bar, Burke watched his people scattered through the café—Sara back on her feet, Tessa with Scout, volunteers and neighbors filling the room.
Caitlin slipped her hand through his arm. He pulled her in, pressing a kiss to her hair.
Rosie settled at their feet, bandanna askew, a crumb stuck to her whiskers.
Around them, the town talked and ate and refilled coffee cups while the music played on.
Sylva was still here. So were they.