Page 6 of Forgiveness River

“You okay?” Sophie’s voice was low, meant only for her ears.

Raven managed a nod, but she could feel her smile growing brittle at the edges. “Just tired.”

Sophie’s gaze lingered a moment too long, concern evident in her expression, but she didn’t press. Another quality Raven appreciated about her sister-in-law—she knew when to push and when to wait.

“Remember what I always tell the boys,” Simone was saying as she refilled Mick’s coffee cup. “A family is like this place—a lampstand in the storm. No matter how dark it gets outside, the light inside never goes out as long as we keep it burning together.”

The words settled over Raven like a prayer and a rebuke simultaneously. The light hadn’t gone out in her marriage—not yet—but it was dimming, flickering dangerously in the wind of whatever secret Wyatt was keeping.

She looked around at the faces of the O’Haras, at the unconditional love and acceptance that radiated between them even during disagreements. This was what family meant: showing up, being present, keeping the light burning even when storms raged.

Wyatt wasn’t here. Not physically, not emotionally either.

As the evening wound down and goodbyes were exchanged, Raven found herself lingering in the doorway of The Lampstand, watching as the family dispersed into the warm summer night. Mac’s laughter echoed down the street as she walked between her grandparents. Duncan’s arm was wrapped protectively around Hattie’s shoulders. Colt and Zoe headed toward their home with Chewy bounding ahead of them, while Hank and Sophie strolled hand in hand toward the newly rebuilt Reading Nook.

“Need company walking back to your car?” Anne asked, appearing at her elbow.

Raven shook her head. “I’m fine. Just enjoying the night air.”

Anne studied her for a moment, those perceptive blue eyes taking in more than Raven was comfortable revealing. “The O’Haras have weathered many storms over the generations,” she said finally. “Some external, some of our own making. But we’ve never weathered them alone.” She squeezed Raven’s hand. “Remember that.”

Before Raven could respond, Anne had turned to follow Mick to their car, leaving her alone with her thoughts and the distant glow of The Lampstand’s beacon shining against the darkening sky.

The moon cast silver ribbons across the surface of Twin Lakes as Wyatt O’Hara crouched behind the rotting porch of the Murphy cabin, his breath measuring out in controlled, shallow puffs of vapor in the cool mountain air. Summer nights in the mountains still carried winter’s ghost, especially this close to the water. He’d been in position for almost two hours, muscles cramping from holding still, but years of training had taught him patience.

Patience and silence were the tools that kept him alive.

His phone weighed heavily in his pocket as he crouched in position. With practiced stealth, he pulled it out and glanced at the screen, keeping it shielded against his chest to prevent any light from giving away his position.

Working late. Don’t wait up. – W

The message he’d sent to Raven earlier stared back at him, stark and impersonal. The words that revealed nothing of the knot in his gut or the weight on his chest. No response from her. Not that he expected one anymore.

When had they started communicating like strangers passing notes under a door?

He missed her. He missed them.

But there was no time for that now. The faint crunch of tires on gravel cut through the night, headlights extinguished long before the vehicle approached. Right on schedule.

Wyatt holstered his phone and refocused, adrenaline sharpening his senses. The late-model SUV pulled up beside the cabin, its dark blue exterior nearly invisible against the night sky. Three men emerged, their movements efficient and practiced. The driver stayed behind the wheel, engine idling.

Three months of careful work had led to this moment. In his position as a DEA agent assigned to Laurel Valley’s sheriff’s department, Wyatt had cultivated a persona that had gained him entry into Moss’s inner circle—a jaded officer willing to look the other way for the right price.

The tallest of the men—Adrian Moss, mid-thirties, ex-military with a dishonorable discharge and a penchant for tactical gear he hadn’t earned the right to wear—led the way into the cabin. His right-hand man, known only as Viper, flanked him with the watchful vigilance of a predator. The third man, newer to the operation, carried a metal briefcase handcuffed to his wrist.

“O’Hara better show,” Moss growled, his voice carrying across the still night air. “I don’t like waiting.”

That was his cue. Wyatt squared his shoulders, emptied his expression of everything but cool detachment, and stepped out from his hiding place, making enough noise to be heard but not enough to startle. In this world, startled men pulled triggers first and asked questions later.

“I’ve been here an hour,” Wyatt said, letting a hint of irritation seep into his voice as he approached them. He’d learned early that appearing overconfident was as dangerous as showing fear. “Security sweep. Standard procedure.”

Moss’s lips curled into something resembling a smile. “Cautious. I like that.”

“Cautious keeps us all breathing,” Wyatt countered, climbing the sagging steps to the cabin’s porch. Every board had been memorized during previous reconnaissance—which ones creaked, which ones might give way, which ones would provide cover if things went south.

The interior of the cabin smelled of mildew and pine sap, with underlying notes of something metallic and chemical. A battery-powered lamp cast harsh shadows across the worn floorboards. The furniture was sparse—a table, a few chairs, a moth-eaten couch pushed against the far wall. Perfect for temporary business, terrible for comfort.

At his full height of six foot three, Wyatt towered over most men. His sandy-blond hair, cut short on the sides but longer on top, caught the dim light as he moved. The beard he’d grown for this operation—neatly trimmed but fuller than he usually wore it—shadowed his strong jaw. His green eyes, watchful and calculating, missed nothing as he surveyed the room.

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