Dinner is loud and warm and a little frenetic—everyone talking at once, plates passing, hands reaching, laughter spilling from one end of the table to the other.
Maddox, on the other hand, is silent, not withdrawn but watchful.Blane keeps ticking me off—every time he leans too close, every time his hand brushes my arm passing a dish—but every time it happens, Maddox stiffens.His jaw ticks.Tight.Controlled.Contained.
It shouldn’t thrill me.
It absolutely does.
“Oh, I have news.”Patsy’s head swivels around the table, making sure she has everyone’s attention.“Lara Crandall is on a crusade to shut down the VFD.”
Katie and Meri gasp, and Maddox leans forward, scowl already in place.“Why the hell would she do that?”
“What’s the VFD?”Blane asks.
“Volunteer Fire Department.”Katie’s concern is written all over her face.
“She can’t.”Meri sets down her water glass.“Imagine what would’ve happened to the inn if they hadn’t—” She stops herself.
Patsy pales, nodding.“Exactly.She’s going after Mayor Malone’s grant money and making a case for using it for whatever it is she wants.”
“And what about the fire department?The town won’t have one.”Everything about Raf constricts.
Patsy presses a hand to her chest.“She’s saying we could use Prospect’s department.”
“That’s forty minutes away.”Maddox’s jaw tightens.“What does she want the funds for?”
“Knowing Lara Crandall, this is going to be rich.”Katie’s features sharpen.“Remember how she went after Wren and her job at the library?”
Meri and Patsy nod in matching disgust.
“She went after Wren?”I can’t help myself.Who targets someone like Wren?
“She sure did.And Wren showed her.”Patsy juts her chin out, satisfied, and a ripple of agreement circles the table.
“From what I hear.”Patsy taps the table with her palm.“Lara hasn’t said where she wants the funds redirected.Only that it’s a better use for the town.”
Raf leans forward.“Could be the clinic.We need at least one new doctor with Doc Halliday retiring, and Chen leaving soon.”
Katie glances at her brother.“Does Eddie know?”
“Not sure.Ol hasn’t mentioned it.”
I file it all away—the VFD, Lara Crandall, the clinic, the ripple of unease moving through people who clearly love this town.I don’t live here, but I can see exactly what losing a volunteer fire department and the nearest back-up forty minutes away would mean.
Sensing the shift in mood, Raf lifts his glass.“With Thanksgiving coming up, don’t forget the weekend after next is the big one.Ten years since Ray passed.Hard to believe.”
The table quiets—not painfully, just with a soft, collective reverence that tells me exactly how much Ray meant to all of them.The name pricks at something familiar, a half-remembered detail from research I skimmed on the plane.
Katie breaks the silence first.“Some days I still expect to see Dad walk through that door.”She nods toward the kitchen walkway.“He built this house, you know.”
My breath catches at the idea of how much love must’ve been poured into these walls, at how different it is from the house I grew up in, where everything was curated, staged, replaceable.
“I read about him.”I set down my fork.“Raymond Hartley.He sounded important to the town.”I’m clumsy with my words and flush.
Of course he was important.He was a husband.A father.His loss is theirs in a way I understand all too well.
Meredith’s expression softens into something more somber but no less warm.“He was, and not because he won awards or had a big personality.He just showed up.For everyone.”
Katie leans forward.“He was a jack of all trades and came out for anything.If a car broke down, he had tools in the truck.If someone needed a roof fixed or a barn door rehung, he dropped everything.He even did everything he could to make F1 a reality for Mads.”