Logan does a double-take. “Yeah?” he says carefully.
“Yeah. If you come with me.”
“I’ll be with you the whole time.”
The place is buzzing with locals. Mrs. Grove—my old English teacher—is in a chair, getting her hair trimmed by Patty, one of the LaSalles’ neighbors. They all look up when we enter.
There’s a scream, and then I’m smothered by a cloud of soft lavender hair and sparkling cake-batter perfume.
“Oh my god, Sierra!” The cloud is Izzy—another of the LaSalle family’s unofficial strays growing up. “What are you doing here? Oh man, I can’t believe it!” She hugs me tight. “We were so worried when you disappeared.”
Monica, the owner, pulls me away from Izzy and smushes me against her. “How long have you been back?” she demands of me, before turning to Logan. “You’ve been keeping her from us!”
Mrs. Grove is next, and her words are a little hard to hear over the clamor. “Oh, my dear. You look so well,” Mrs. Grove says. There are tears in her eyes. “How are you?”
Patty’s already on the phone with her sister. “Lisa, Sierra’s back! She’s at Sahaira!”
“Why didn’t your mom say anything?” Monica scolds Logan. “She was here just the other day. Sierra, you have to come to dinner. My husband was one of the first to help Logan search for you on Compass Mountain when you went missing. He’llbe thrilled to see you alive and well.”
“You knew she was alive,” Logan protests.
“Your PI saying so isn’t the same as seeing her in person!”
Shame and guilt and confusion rock through me. People missed me? The whole town searched for me?
“Do you need a haircut?” Izzy says. “My appointment just canceled. On the house.”
Before I can argue, she pushes me into a chair, fingers already in my hair. “Your hair,” she sighs. “Still so thick and gorgeous. It’d be cruel to deny me a chance to play with it, Sierra!”
I shoot a slightly panicked expression at Logan.
Logan merely smiles. “You’ll be all right if I go? I can stay.”
I hesitate. Then I shake my head. Like our heart-to-heart in the cave, it’s time. “I’ll be fine. Go hit some of the other shops.”
Patty lifts a lock of my hair, inspecting the ends with a frown. “When’s the last time you had a trim?”
“Uh, it’s been a while,” I admit. Dinner always beats haircuts in my budget. I don’t want this to turn into anyone interrogating me, so I quickly parry the conversation away. “Tell me what you’ve been up to, Patty.”
Patty dives in right away, and I’m swept along with her into the warm current of Sagebrush gossip. I’m relieved when it seems like they have no intention of grilling me about where I’ve been or what happened seven years ago.
Instead, Patty tells me about her rascally boys growing up and heading off to college, Monica recounts locals’ weddings and births, while Mrs. Grove fills me in on the teachers who are still around.
It is nice sitting here. Like I’m part of something again.Climbers are great, but that world’s always got an edge, a quiet competition about who’s the most hardcore, the most anti-normie. This? This is easy. This feels like belonging.
They also tease Izzy about the trail of broken hearts she’s left behind.
“Chuck wasn’t the man for me,” Izzy says as she deftly snips away at my hair.
“Or Chris, or Charlie,” teases Monica.
“Memo to self to avoid all men with names that start with CH,” says Izzy. “Must be a red flag.”
“The two consonants thing in a row is suspicious,” I agree. “How greedy must they be to have two consonants?”
“What about the LaSalle boys?” Patty asks her. “They’re nice.”
“Ethan, nice?” Izzy asks. “That’s a stretch to call him that.”
