Page 23 of Josephine and Clay

Mom finally turns from the stove, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She steps closer, not saying anything, just looking at me properly now. “You take care of yourself.”

“I always do.”

Her mouth presses thin at that, deciding whether to argue it. She doesn’t. Just reaches out, straightens the collar of my shirt as she used to when I was a kid. “You don’t have to run so hard all the time, Clay.”

I let out a breath, shifting slightly. “I’m not running.”

Her eyes flick up to mine. “Just… be careful.”

I nod once. “I will.”

The goodbyes aren’t dramatic because that’s not how we do things.

Boone claps me on the shoulder. Dallas gives me a nod that means more than most people would think. Faith smiles, Rose hugs me quick, Wyatt nearly tackles me again, and even Nash manages a tired grin with Hailey tucked against his chest.

I grab my bag. “See you.”

And I mean it, even if I don’t know when.

Buckhorn looks different in the morning light when you’re leaving it. Quieter. It’s already settling back into itself now that I’m on my way out.

Good.

That’s how it should be.

I roll down Main Street, one hand on the wheel, the other drumming against my thigh. The town’s already awake. Trucks parked outside the diner. Someone sweeping the sidewalk. The usual rhythm.

I should just keep driving.

Instead, I slow as Buttercup Bakery comes into view.

I don’t even think about it, just pull over. It’d be criminal to leave without one baked good for the ride.

The bell above the door jingles when I step inside, and the smell hits me immediately. Sugar, cinnamon, warm and baked fresh.

“Morning,” Clara calls from behind the counter.

“Morning.”

“Heading out?” she asks, as if she already knows.

“Something like that.”

She hums, already reaching for a paper bag. “You look like you need something for the road.”

“I look like that, do I?”

“Mm hm. Hungry and a little bit restless.”

I snort under my breath. “You got all that from one look?”

“I’ve been doing this longer than you’ve been alive, honey.”

“Fair enough.”

I lean against the counter, glancing around while she packs up.

And then the bell catches my attention.