I closed my eyes and breathed him in, feeling something settle deep in my chest. Something that felt like peace.
Like home.
CHAPTER 35: MATT
THREE MONTHS LATER
The folding chairs were easier to stack than I'd expected.
I'd set up twelve, figuring eight people was the usual turnout and it was better to have extras. Tonight we'd had ten. Mrs. Rose and her daughter. Tom Bradford whose wife had early-onset. The Andersons, married fifty years, him taking care of her now. A few others. Good people carrying heavy things.
The high school gym still smelled the same, floor polish and old sweat. Principal Hayes had offered the space when I'd asked. "Community room's booked solid, but you can use the gym Thursday nights. Just stack the chairs when you're done."
I stacked the chairs.
The meeting had gone well. Mrs. Rose cried talking about her husband forgetting their anniversary. Tom shared that he'd found a day program that gave him three afternoons a week to himself. We'd talked about guilt and exhaustion and the small victories that felt enormous. Nobody offered solutions. We just listened.
That was enough.
Mom had been at Meadowbrook Memory Care for six weeks now. The decision had been brutal, but Dad couldn't do itanymore and neither could I. She was safe there. Had her own room with a window. Thought the nurses were her college roommates most days. Called me "young man" when I visited.
It was getting easier. Not easy, but easier.
I grabbed the last chair, added it to the stack.
'I'm retiring next fall. Election's in November.' He'd looked at me. 'You'd make a good sheriff. Should throw your hat in.'"
I'd nodded. Tried not to read too much into it.
"You'd have to stay," he'd said. "Job's not for someone passing through."
"I know."
"That something you'd want?"
I'd thought about it, about my detective work in the city, the career I'd left behind. That life felt like someone else's now.
"Maybe," I'd said. "Let me think about it."
He'd clapped my shoulder. "Take your time."
Sheriff of Millbrook. A year ago the idea would've felt like failure. Now it felt like… possibility. Maybe.
One step at a time.
I was folding up the card table when the gym door creaked open.
"Sorry! I'm sorry I'm late."
Lucy Carlson hurried in, still in her Millbrook Veterinary Care scrubs, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. She stopped when she saw the empty chairs.
"Oh no. Did I miss the whole thing?"
"Ended about ten minutes ago."
"Shit." She dropped her bag by the door. "I got stuck at the clinic. Emergency spay ran long and then…" She waved her hand. "Excuses. I'm sorry."
"It's okay. There's always next week."
