Page 20 of Forgiveness River

Raven spun around to see Sophie approaching, a bag of kettle corn in one hand and two plastic cups of what looked like lemonade in the other.

“Slammed,” Raven confirmed, hoping her voice didn’t betray the disappointment crushing her chest. She accepted the offered drink gratefully. “I thought the tourist season was busy, but festival weekend is another level entirely. I’ve barely had time to step away from the register.”

“The Reading Nook was the same,” Sophie agreed, leaning against the shop’s doorframe. “Hank finally persuaded me to leave, said I’d been on my feet all day and deserved a break.”

“Wyatt stopped by earlier,” Raven said, the words slipping out before she could consider them. She needed to talk tosomeone, and Sophie was the only one who knew about their situation.

Sophie’s expression shifted to one of careful interest. “Oh?”

“It was strange,” Raven continued, packing the remaining scarves into a storage bin. “He was so…normal. Like nothing was wrong between us. He kissed me, right here in front of everyone, and promised to come dance with me to our song.”

“But he didn’t,” Sophie guessed, her gaze sympathetic.

“No,” Raven confirmed, a heaviness settling in her chest. “He didn’t.”

She knew she should be patient. There was still a week left of their two-week deadline. But moments like this—his appearance and disappearance—only sharpened the uncertainty.

“Let’s walk,” Sophie suggested, nodding toward the festival. “You’re done here, and I could use some fresh air. The band’s playing a great set tonight.”

Raven hesitated, glancing around as if Wyatt might materialize from the crowd. Finally, she nodded. “Let me just lock up the shop and take the cash to the safe.”

Ten minutes later, they were strolling through the festival, the cheerful chaos swirling around them as they navigated past street performers and food vendors. Children laughed and darted between booths while a local string band played traditional mountain tunes that echoed off the buildings. The town square, which in winter transformed into an ice-skating rink, had become the festival’s heart with a wooden dance floor set up in the center, surrounded by twinkling lights strung overhead in a canopy of stars.

“I keep thinking about what you said,” Raven admitted as they paused to watch a group of local teenagers performing an impressive dance routine on the smaller of the two stages. “About having faith.”

Sophie was quiet for a moment, watching the dancers. “It’s not easy,” she finally said. “Trust rarely is.”

“It used to be,” Raven countered, emotion thickening her voice. “With Wyatt, trust was as natural as breathing. Until it wasn’t.”

They continued walking, past the pie-judging contest where Rose was holding court, her flour-dusted apron a badge of honor, and toward the edge of the festival where the crowd thinned.

“I saw him earlier,” Sophie said suddenly, nodding toward the far end of Main Street. “Talking to Blaze outside the station. They looked serious.”

Raven followed her gaze but saw only festivalgoers and the dark shape of the station in the distance. Whatever conversation had occurred had ended.

“Probably festival security,” she said, but even to her own ears, the explanation sounded hollow.

They wandered toward the food stalls, the scent of fried dough and cinnamon drawing them in. Hank appeared from the crowd, a paper plate piled high with funnel cake in one hand and a bottle of water in the other.

“There you are,” he said, leaning in to kiss Sophie. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” He held out the plate. “Thought you might need a sugar boost after being on your feet all day.”

Sophie laughed, the sound light and genuine. “This smells amazing.”

Raven watched their easy interaction with a pang of envy. This was what she and Wyatt had once had—that effortless connection, the ability to pick up conversations in the middle as if they’d never been interrupted.

“Raven?” Hank’s voice broke through her thoughts. “You want some? There’s plenty.”

“No, I should be getting home,” she said, forcing a smile. “It’s been a long day.”

“You sure?” Sophie asked, concern evident in her expression.

“Positive,” Raven assured her. “I just want a hot shower and my bed.”

What she didn’t say was that she hated the empty house that no longer felt like a home. That sometimes she stayed at the boutique late into the night just to avoid returning to the silence.

After saying her goodbyes, Raven made her way through the festival toward where she’d parked her car behind her boutique. The sounds of celebration grew more distant with each step, until all she could hear was the crunch of gravel beneath her feet and the distant thrum of the band.

The quiet of her parked car was a relief, but as she pulled away from the festival, she couldn’t help glancing in her rearview mirror, wondering if Wyatt was somewhere in the crowd, looking for her as promised.

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