Page 224 of Lost Then Found
Not in grand gestures or anything, but more like in the mornings I wake up and forget he’s gone. In the jokes I know he’d laugh at. In the instinct to reach for my phone when something happens, and that hollow feeling that follows when I don’t.
Grief doesn’t fade. It settles. Takes up residence in your chest, soft and immovable. Some days it’s light. A shadow. Other days, it’s a blade.
He would’ve liked this place. He would’ve seen what I’m trying to build—not just the walls, but the life inside them. He would’ve understood why I’m doing this.
He should’ve seen this.
Ridge comes riding up in the ATV, tires crunching over gravel, dust kicking up behind him in the early light. He’s got a thermos in one hand, the other loose on the wheel, and he’s bundled in his usual morning layers—hoodie under a worn canvas jacket, a beanie shoved down over his ears. Hudson’s sitting next to him, grinning like he’s just won the damn lottery, cheeks pink from the cold.
That catches me off guard. That kid’s not usually up at this hour unless someone drags him out of bed. He’s like Lark that way—both of them could sleep through a fucking hurricane and still be late to breakfast. Between the ranch and the military, my body doesn’t let me sleep past six even if I wanted to. It’s not something I fight anymore. Just is what it is.
Ridge cuts the engine and hops out, nodding toward Hudson as they walk up to the porch. “Figured we could use the company.”
“Always,” I say, standing with a grin to greet them.
Hudson drops onto the top step beside me, and I pull him into a quick hug, ruffling his hair. “Hey, buddy.”
“Hey,” he says back, easy and bright.
I look at him. “Thought you’d be sleeping in.”
He shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “I was excited to be up.”
Something about that sinks deep in my chest, that good kind of weight. Knowing he likes being here so much he wants to be up early for it—not to miss anything, not to waste a second. That’s everything.
Lark, on the other hand, had already been up and gone by the time thesun cracked over the horizon. She’s been opening the Bluebell herself these last few weeks, ever since we got the place back. Vaughn Hart kept his word, which still surprises me some days. Got the Bluebell reopened within the week of me calling him, telling him Lark was in. Whatever strings he pulled, whoever he called in favors from, it worked. Doors open, health code clear, everything clean. Just like it was supposed to be before Tate got involved.
Hudson peeks around me, eyes landing on Old Faithful, and I can practically feel the excitement rolling off him. “Whoa,” he says, stepping closer. “This issocool.”
I glance down at him, then follow his gaze to the house. “Yeah? You like it?”
“Totally,” he breathes out, already moving toward the front door, like he can’t help himself.
I follow beside him, watching his eyes go wide as soon as he steps through the door, taking it all in—the light slanting through the arched windows, the open space, the clean, unfinished walls. “This is awesome,” he says, spinning around slowly. “It’shuge.”
He points toward the staircase, the one Ridge and I just finished a couple days ago—oak treads, sanded and stained, solid enough to last a hundred years. “Can I go up there?”
“Yeah, you can,” I say, my grin probably taking up my whole damn face. “Just finished it.”
He bolts, feet pounding against the steps, pausing halfway to look back. “How many rooms are there?”
“Four bedrooms.”
Hudson stops at the top, brow furrowed. “Four?Who needsfour bedrooms?”
I don’t answer right away. Truth is, I want four bedrooms to fill with noise. With Lark’s laughter and Hudson’s siblings—if the cards fall that way. Which I hope to God it does. I want a house that holds more than just things. I want it to holdus.
He keeps exploring, pushing open doors, peeking into closets. Whenhe steps into the last room at the end of the hall, he plants his feet and announces, “This one’s mine.”
I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Yeah? Why this one?”
He turns, completely serious. “It’s the biggest. Duh.”
I bark out a laugh. “What makes you think this place is for you?”
Hudson tilts his head, considering. “Well…is it?”
I reach over, ruffling his hair until he squirms. “Yeah, kid. It is.” I pause, catching his eye. “But you can’t tell your mom. We’re gonna surprise her with it.”
