The town square was alive. Bunting of red, white, and blue curled around light poles and storefronts. Booths…
The sun filtered through the high cabin windows, warm and quiet. A slow breeze crept through the open…
The early mountain sun broke over the trees with sharp clarity—no haze, no softness—just crisp beams of light…
The light through the cabin windows was golden and soft, filtering through the trees and spilling across the…
Charlene didn’t leave that night. Not after the table. Not after the second round on the bearskin rug…