Across the Vanishing Sky (Starlight Grove, #1)(64)

“That’s good,” Travis encouraged.

“Maybe. I just…I want answers. Who was it? Why call now after all this time?”

Travis and Roger shared a look.

“What?” I demanded.

Roger cleared his throat. “I wonder if they know you’re here. If they know you’re looking into things.”

A chill skittered over my skin, but I stiffened my spine. “If someone took Nova, I hope they know I’m looking for them. I hope they know I’m coming for them. And that I won’t stop until she’s home.”

A bell dinged, followed by Fiona’s shouted words. “Order up.”

“I gotta get that,” I muttered, turning away before they could respond. But as I headed for the pass-through window, I felt eyes on me. As I glanced around, I came to terms with the fact that it was only my imagination. Everyone was fixed on their own business: conversations, phones, a book.

I let out a long breath as I grabbed two plates and headed for the couple in town for a hiking trip. It took everything in me not to warn them to stick together and not wander off alone. Instead, I told them to have a great time and deposited their burgers and fries.

A new but familiar face greeted me from another table as I moved to take the newcomer’s order. “Jack, right?”

I was piss-poor at connecting faces and names, but I always remembered stories. Especially ones people shared at our Compass meetings. Jack’s wife had gone missing six months ago. Went out for groceries and never came back.

He gave me a swift nod. “Nice to see you again, Brae.”

“You, too. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Coke would be great,” he said, drumming oil-stained fingers on the table.

“Coming right up.”

Before I could turn, Jack’s voice cut in again. “You have any more trouble?”

I stiffened slightly.

“Holly told me,” he explained. “Word usually makes it around the group when someone has something happen—good or bad.”

I shoved down the hint of annoyance that flickered. It wasn’t gossip. Not really. It was community. I was just so damned used to going it alone.

“Nothing else. I wish there had been.”

Jack’s throat worked as he swallowed. “I get that. There was a reported sighting of my Cynthia over the border into Oregon. Keyed me up for months. Every time someone knocked on the door or my phone rang.”

Empathy washed through me, along with a trickle of guilt at my earlier annoyance. This was the gift of being around people who’d been through it. They understood like no one else.

“I’m sorry. Sometimes, hope is pure torture. But we have to hold on anyway.”

Grief washed through Jack’s dark eyes. “Truer words were never spoken.”

I gave him a quick squeeze on the shoulder. “I’ll get you that Coke.” And I would get him dessert on me.

Weaving my way through the tables, I sidled up to the bar.

“Whatcha need?” Wylder asked as he typed away on his phone, a pastime I found him frequently locked into. I wasn’t sure if he was a dedicated Wordle player or had some secret pen pal. But it never affected his work. He had a sixth sense for when someone needed something.

“Coke.”

Wylder shoved his phone into his pocket and scooped some ice into a glass. “Everything good?”

He asked the same question every day.

“Well, between you and your spidey-sense, Travis and Roger’s stakeouts, Cora and Fiona’s buddy system, and Aidan’s glares at anyone who gets too close, I think I’m pretty well covered.”

Wylder chuckled. “You are officially one of us. Welcome.”

That hit me square in the chest. I didn’t think I’d ever had a sense of true belonging like that. The accounting office I’d worked in before had been very official with boundaries. People didn’t share much about their personal lives, and no one knew my story beyond me having a son.

Everything in Starlight Grove was so…different. People knew your business. Occasionally, they used it for wrong, like those who threw the Archer brothers’ father in their faces. But mostly, they used it for good. To look out. To help.

“It’s taking some getting used to,” I admitted.

Wylder slid the Coke across the bar. “You will. But you might want to brace for family dinner. The Archers? We can be…a lot.”

A hint of anxiety flitted through me. “Well, help a girl out. What are you guys into? Besides clockmaking and Bigfoot.”

Wylder barked out a laugh. “Dex really has given you the inside scoop.”

“Just bits and pieces, and mostly about Waylon. What about the rest of you? Hobbies? Family traditions? Help me show up armed to win everyone over.”

“Hot sauce.”

My brows pulled together. “Hot sauce is your family tradition?”

Wylder grinned. “A family rite of passage. A blood oath.”

“Okay?” I said with a laugh.

“Come to dinner with an iron stomach because if someone pulls out Waylon’s arsenal of hot sauces, there’s no turning back. Everyone will give their all to best the others.”

“I guess that’s one way to bond,” I surmised.

“You know it.”