A few more customers stopped by. I helped a guy looking for waders but was out of stock in his size, answered a question about stove fuel, and told a man I didn’t carry the brand of fishing line he wanted and suggested he look online. Hell, maybe this town did need a place like Wild Wilderness. I couldn’t even manage my own life, much less keep up with what people wanted from my store.
When the place was finally empty, I stood behind the counter and stared at the door until my eyes stung. For a guy who prided himself on always staying in control, I’d never felt more powerless in my life.
CHAPTER 8
JESSA
If Harlan Flint wanted to keep me at a distance, then fine. I’d show him and this whole town I didn’t need anyone to fight my battles.
I buried myself in Adventure Weekend prep. From the second I opened my eyes in the morning to the minute I collapsed in bed, I made lists, chased down volunteers, and posted flyers anywhere that would hold tape. Maybe if I moved fast enough, I wouldn’t feel the sharp edge of the gash Harlan had cut into my heart when he pushed me away.
At least everyone in town was excited about the weekend. Nellie strung twinkle lights over the cafe’s awning. Ridge dropped off a stack of whistles he wanted to donate for the scavenger hunt. Calla and Lane stopped by with dinosaur eggs they’d stuffed full of prizes for the dig.
People believed in this event. They believed in me. That should have been enough. But every time I caught sight of the outfitter across the street, with its windows scrubbed clean and the new display I’d fought for sitting front and center, I ached. Because no matter how much good I was doing, the one man I wanted in my corner wouldn’t risk being caught dead there.
By Wednesday, the entire town was buzzing. Nellie handed out free cookies shaped like pine trees and told every customer at the cafe that Adventure Weekend was “exactly what this town needs.”
“I’m proud of you, sugar,” she said when I stopped in for coffee. She leaned across the counter, lowering her voice. “But don’t let that Flint boy spook you. He’s wound tighter than barbed wire on a corner post. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel it.”
I stirred creamer into my cup. “If he feels it, he hides it better than anyone I’ve ever met.”
Nellie’s eyes softened. “He’s not hiding from you. He’s hiding from himself. Big difference.”
I wanted to believe her. But belief didn’t keep me warm at night.
Thursday brought volunteers. Thatcher agreed to run a fire-safety demo, though he grunted so much through our conversation I couldn’t tell if he was saying yes out of brotherly loyalty or because Nellie bribed him with pie. Joely promised to help Calla keep the kids corralled during the scavenger hunt. Even Lane piped up that he’d “help guard the prize table,” like it was his sole purpose in life.
I smiled, I encouraged, and I delegated. People left meetings feeling useful and excited to be part of something. That was the point. Having the whole town rally around the outfitters was exactly what I’d set out to do, and it was working.
But when the crowd thinned and I was left with my clipboard and the echo of laughter, the ache came back. Because I wasn’t only doing this to save Big Package Outfitters from the threat of Wild Wilderness or to prove myself to the town. I was doing it because I wanted Harlan to look at me and see more than Thatcher and Holt’s little sister. I wanted him to see me.
And right now, he wasn’t there—not in the way I needed him to be.
By Friday morning, the gossip hounds had stopped sniffing around and started biting.
I walked into The Huckleberry Cafe to grab a box of muffins for volunteers and froze halfway through the door. Two women from town, sweet older women with heads full of blue-tinted curls, sat near the window with a tablet between them. They were whispering and tapping, laughing behind their hands as they gathered their things to get up from their table.
“The Ex-List poll says he’s next,” one of them said, her voice barely loud enough for me to hear it. “The Warden finally fell.”
Heat flamed my cheeks. I didn’t need to ask who they were talking about.
I lifted my chin and walked over to the counter like nothing could touch me, like it didn’t feel like someone had peeled back the covers to shine a spotlight straight into the most private part of my life. Nellie slipped the box of muffins across to me without a word, her eyes sharp, her mouth tight.
“You okay?” she asked once the women left.
“Fine,” I lied.
But the truth twisted in my chest like a knife. This was exactly what Harlan had been afraid of… my name tossed around like gossip, my life reduced to a bet on the Ex-List. I’d sworn he was wrong, laughed off his warnings, told myself I was stronger than the whispers. But there I was, sitting in the middle of it, proving all of his fears right. Even worse, I’d made myself the example he’d been trying to protect me from all along.
That night I stayed late at the community center, going over the final details to make sure I hadn’t missed anything. My brothers checked in by text, asking if I needed their help. I told them I had it all under control.
Because the truth was, I did. I’d handled every last detail. All on my own.
But when the lights buzzed and the shadows grew long, loneliness pressed against me. I wanted Harlan there, even if he’d scowl at my color-coded folders and grumble about how I was “girling up” his store. I wanted him pressed against my back, muttering about how I’d taken on too much, then quietly helping me make it work anyway.
Instead, I had silence and a clipboard.
By Saturday night, I was so wound up I couldn’t sit still. My planner sat open on the kitchen table, every slot filled with notes about scavenger hunt prizes, trail maps, and a detailed minute-by-minute schedule of the entire weekend. Everyone was in. Everyone but Harlan. I tapped my pen against the page, staring at the list of names. His absence was like a gaping hole.
