Summer In Iron Springs (33 page)

“I don’t want to say goodbye to you, Feebs.” Billy whispered. “I will miss you so much.”

Phoebe withdrew from his embrace just enough to look him in the eyes. “We don’t have to say goodbye. I’ll be back for visits—as often as possible.”

***

Phoebe and Billy walked, hand in hand, back to the ranch so they would be on time for the party. When Phoebe saw her father’s truck parked in front of the house, her heart did a somersault. She hurried to the house with Billy close behind her.

“It’s about time you got here,” Peter said from his seat on the porch. “After all, this is your party.”

“When did you get here?” Phoebe asked. He hadn’t told her he’d be coming and she was thrilled to see him.

“A few minutes ago,” Peter said, getting to his feet and wrapping his arms around Phoebe. “After I got the news, I went straight to my truck and started driving—I didn’t stop once. I actually think I set a record this trip.”

Phoebe glanced at her father’s face. “What news?”

Peter smiled and reached for a newspaper that was rolled up in his back pocket. “This news,” he said, pointing to a headline that read, “Local teen solves thirteen year old murder mystery.”

Phoebe’s eyes widened as she read the short article that gave a brief overview of how she tracked down Mike Smith, heard his confession, and solved a crime the police couldn’t solve.

“You’re a hero . . . I mean a heroine,” Peter said.

“Wait . . . so, you’re not mad at me for doing this without telling you?”

Peter smiled a wide smile. “If I had known about it, I wouldn’t have let you do it. But, now that it’s done and we know what happened, I’m glad you did it. And, I’m thankful you’re safe.” Peter glanced at Billy. “I’m guessing you didn’t do this on your own, right?”

“Billy and Jenna both helped. I couldn’t have done any of it without them,” Phoebe said. She looked her father in the eyes. “Dad, I’m so sorry for everything you went through. Being here, and learning about mom and about what happened . . . well, it’s given me a lot to think about. I really don’t know how you made it.”

“I almost didn’t,” Peter said, his voice cracking.

Anna
walked outside and joined them on the porch. “I see you found her,” she said. “He’s been anxious to see you ever since he arrived.”

“That’s because he wanted to show me this.” Phoebe held up the article. “It’s all about my mom and the cameo and how the police were able to close the case.”

Anna smiled. I know, I read it in the Iron Springs Press this morning. Anna opened a newspaper and showed Phoebe a much longer, front page story.

Phoebe glanced at the paper and was surprised to see a picture of herself printed on the front page. She had no idea where the journalist got it. Nobody had talked to her. “Wait a minute.” Phoebe glanced at
Anna. “You saw the story this morning? So, you already knew about it when I talked to you?”

Anna
nodded. “Yes, I did. But, I was so happy you were confiding in me I didn’t want to tell you I already knew.” She put an arm around Phoebe. “I’m so proud of you, honey.”

“Can I have this?” Phoebe asked, holding up the newspaper.

“Of course you can.” Anna said. “I have a whole stack of them in the house. As soon as I heard about the story—and about your new celebrity status—I bought every copy I could get my hands on.”

***

When Phoebe gave Stephen the butterfly painting, his eyes grew wide and he inspected it with the curiosity of a small child.

“Everyone, look what Phoebe made for me.” He held the painting up and proudly showed it to each person in the room.

              When Norm saw it, he smiled at the intricate butterfly design and then turned to Phoebe. “That’s very nice Phoebe.”

             
Hearing Norm’s words, Phoebe furrowed her brow at him. “What did you just say?”

             
Norm chuckled. “I said your painting is nice.”

             
“No, no. Not that.” Phoebe eyed Norm curiously. “You didn’t call me little lady.”

Norm let out a loud bellow.
“Well, ain’t that a fine howdy-do? I guess I’ll have to watch that in the future little lady.”

At that, laughter filled the air and Phoebe’s heart swelled with love for each of the people in the room.

She gave Norm his letter and they both cried when he read it. Then, after wiping his eyes, he looked at Phoebe and said, “Saying goodbye to you is about as easy as puttin’ socks on a rooster.”

Dave and Jenna gave Phoebe a painting of Iron Springs in winter time. It was painted at the bottom of Park Street and showed the hustle and bustle at the peak of ski season. In the distance, the snow covered mountains made a beautiful backdrop. “This is so you won’t forget us
,” Jenna said through her sobs. She put her arms around Phoebe and hugged her tightly. “I will miss you so much.”

“How could I ever forget you, Jenna?” Phoebe sniffled; trying to stop her tears from falling. “Besides, I’m coming to visit, remember? And during winter break, you’re coming to Seattle.” After hugging
Jenna, she put her arms around Dave. Then, she gave the painting a long, appreciative look. “It’s beautiful, thank you both. I love it.”

             
When Howard arrived, he greeted Phoebe with a hug. “I can’t stay long. But I wanted to stop by and tell you goodbye. This guy right here . . .” Howard greeted Peter with a handshake and a smile before going on. “He’s one of the best men I know and a true friend. I know he has spent way too much time worrying about what people in this town think. What you’ve done will bring him a lot of peace.”

             
Phoebe stared into the old man’s gentle eyes. “Howard, I want to thank you again for showing me my mother’s grave. I know it was a difficult thing to do and I am so thankful you made the decision to do it. Every time I visit the cemetery, I feel even closer to her.” She put her arms around the old man. “My dad is lucky to have a friend like you. So am I.”

             
Howard returned the embrace and he and Phoebe joined the others in the living room.

Phoebe spent her last few hours in Iron Springs exactly where she wanted to be; surrounded by the people she’d come to love over the past three months. The gathering went late into the night; nobody wanted to say goodbye.

***

              Phoebe stood in the gravel watching Billy drive away, certain her heart would shatter into a million pieces. She ran her hand down her throat to steady the rising sob and felt the chain around her neck. Moving her fingers down the length of it, she closed her hand around her mother’s cameo, finding her strength in the feel of it. Mike Smith was dead; she’d heard the news earlier that day. She had forgiven him and found peace. She was losing Billy— for a little while anyway, and she could get through that too. She knew she had to grow up and be the daughter her mother would be proud of. She would paint, love, travel—she would see the beauty in the world just as her mother had done.

She’d been on a journey that, though painful, gave her a relationship with her mother. She held the locket as though she were holding her mother’s hand. No longer feeling like she was carrying the weight of the world, she straightened her shoulders and turned toward the house. “I love you mom,” she w
hispered.