The quiet murmur of voices filtered through the house, along with the smell of fresh coffee.Floorboards creaked beneath her as she made her way into the living room.
Luanne was curled into one end of the couch, legs crossed, a deep green wrap dress skimming just past her knees.Her mother sat beside her, their faces drawn with the same quiet grief.Margie stood near the window, hands clasped in front of her like she didn’t know what to do with them.Charlie lingered behind her, his denim button-down tucked into his jeans.And there was someone new—an older woman with white hair, a pale polyester dress clinging to her pantyhose, a tattered clutch pressed tightly to her lap.
Luanne noticed her first.“Hey, Cas.You look real nice.”
“Very pretty,” her mother echoed.
Margie and Charlie turned—Margie offering a small nod of approval; Charlie, a sad smile.
“My lord in heaven,” the older woman blurted, rising to her feet.She gave Cassie a long, startled look over her wide-rimmed glasses.“Well now…you really do favor your mama.”
Margie stepped forward.“Now I done told you she did, didn’t I?”
“I reckon you did, but I just wasn’t expecting her twin.Land sakes—thought it was Birdie walkin’ into prom all them years ago.”She shook her head lightly.“Mercy, where are my manners—Cassie, I’m Eunice Weller.Taught your daddy and your mama…and later on, had Connor in my classes, too.After I retired, Connor’d stop by from time to time to trim the grass, keep me company.He was such a good boy, and—” Her voice broke.“He’ll be sorely missed.”
Eunice dropped her head, rummaging through her purse for a handkerchief, dabbing at her eyes beneath her glasses.
Cassie felt her own tears threaten and had to fight them back.“I…I remember you,” she said quickly.“You used to volunteer at the library after you retired, right?And read usThe Jack Tales?”
“Told us a good story could take you farther than any bus ticket,” Luanne added, a faint smile tugging.
“And that if we couldn’t find ourselves in a book, we weren’t lookin’ hard enough.”
Eunice’s gaze moved between them, eyes shining.“And look at you both now—two beautiful young women, smart and capable and successful.I’m glad to know I had a hand, however small, in helpin’ you grow into that.”
Cassie smiled, the small, sad expression fading just as quickly—and with it, the brief warmth that had filled the room.
“Everybody ready?”Margie asked roughly.
No one answered, but the soft scrape of shoes and rustle of fabric filled the silence as, one by one, they began shuffling toward the door.Cassie, last, shifted the violin case in her grip, glanced once around the quiet room, then followed them out.
Nash pulled his pickup into the lot beside Mercy Hill Baptist Church, the old stone building darkened by decades of rain and coal dust.Motorcycles already filled the front rows, parked tight and gleaming, Virginia and Kentucky plates mixed among the locals’.Nash spotted a few familiar faces—brothers from other chapters come to pay their respects.He gave each a short nod.They weren’t here for him; they were here for Connor.
Beyond the bikes, townsfolk were pulling in—former friends of Malachy and Birdie, Darlene and her husband, Becca and Brady with their three boys.The line between the club and the town had always been thin, and today it was damn near gone.
He was helping Junie down from the truck when he spotted Ollie Caldwell strutting toward the church in his dress uniform, that goddamn hat tucked under his arm—like either meant a damn thing here.Nash, jaw twitching, watched him pause on the steps to shake the preacher’s hand before disappearing inside.
Junie in hand, Nash signaled for the Kings to fall in line behind him.A slow procession of leather and denim, they passed through the church archway and into the bowels.The men began peeling off—some to sit with family, others finding space along the sides while Nash continued toward the front, where Connor’s casket sat—the plain pine piece of shit Cassie had chosen.Only, covered in Margie’s wildflowers, even Nash had to admit it didn’t look half bad.
Framed photos stood on easels around the casket.Some showed Connor during his football days, under the Friday night lights; others were from the clubhouse—rides out, beers raised, brothers crowded close.But there was only one of the Berry family all together—Malachy with little Cassie on his shoulders, her smiling face tipped toward the sky; Birdie’s arms around a grinning young Connor.It was the last photo taken before Malachy got sick; there weren’t too many more after it either.
Nash led Junie to the front row, guiding her into the empty seat beside Margie and Charlie.He stayed standing a moment, eyes sweeping the room until he found her.Cassie sat with Luanne sat in a small alcove, off to the side of the pulpit, her violin case clutched tight in her lap—face pale, eyes wide, looking like she’d forgotten how to breathe.
Then he heard the heels, sharp and fast down the aisle.A second later, Addison’s perfume hit him, sweet enough to choke on, as she slid past and into the pew beside Junie.
“You couldn’t wear a dress today?”she hissed.“Seriously, Juniper?”
Junie folded her arms.“It’s what Con would’ve wanted.”
“Don’t think you’ll be sittin’ here with us, Addy,” Margie cut in quietly.“This row’s for Con’s kin.”
Addison blinked, lips parting.Her gaze flicked toward Nash, and he nearly cringed, bracing for the fallout.But for once she stayed quiet.Face pinched tight, she simply straightened her skirt and slipped into a seat a few rows back.
Nash scanned the building full of faces one last time before taking his seat, a hard knot of satisfaction settling in his chest.For all the ways Connor had been written off, they’d still come to say a final goodbye.
The organ started up as the preacher—a small man, shoulders a little stooped—made his way down the aisle to the pulpit, smoothing a weathered Bible between his hands before greeting the congregation and launching into scripture.
“The Good Book says, I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith.”The preacher’s voice softened.“Now, Connor knew that fight.He knew what it meant to stumble and still keep goin’.”
