Page 90 of The Outpost (Jamison Valley 4)
“Levi and Chase Brooks.”
Beau shook his head. “Ah, now I get it.”
“Get what?” I asked.
“Levi and Chase Brooks’s mom is in my mom’s quilting club.” Beau pulled his phone from his pocket and waved it in the air. “Mom was the one calling me earlier when we were busy.”
“Oh.” I blushed and looked to my coffee cup.
Jess tried to hide it, but I caught his grin. He knew exactly what we’d been doing during those missed calls.
“This is a pretty small search and rescue case for you, hotshot,” Jess said. “But if you don’t go up there, all of those women in your mom’s quilting club are going to be calling me all damn day. My guess is they’ll be banging down your door too.”
I didn’t want to miss out on my lazy day with Beau but I really didn’t want his mom or her friends coming to his house.
“I’ll go up.” Beau ran a hand over his beard. “Let’s not call in the whole search and rescue team unless we need to though. I’ll see if I can track them down first.”
“Want some company?” Jess asked. “I bet Silas would come up with us.”
“Sure, that would be great. Let me eat some breakfast and call Mom back, then I’ll get my gear.”
“I’ll call the guys,” Jess said, going into the living room.
I went to the fridge for the eggs. “And I’ll make breakfast before you go.”
“Sorry, Shortcake.”
I smiled. “Don’t be.”
I loved that Beau was part of the hero squad. I just wished he had more time to do what he really wanted to do. He was always rushing to someone’s rescue, mine included. What did Beau want from his life?
But since now wasn’t the time for that question, I hustled to cook him breakfast.
Twenty minutes later, Jess had left to pick up Silas, I was doing the dishes and Beau was changed and ready to go, pulling a baseball cap over his hair.
“Have you seen my compass?” he asked.
“Your what?”
“My compass. Silver.” He made a two-inch circle with his hand. “About this big.”
“Oh, I thought that was a pocket watch.”
I’d seen it at the outpost before but had never opened it. Beau had always left it in the middle of the counter with his keys and the contents of his jeans pockets. This morning, I’d set it aside with his truck keys so it wouldn’t be in the way of my cooking.
“Here you go,” I said, handing it over. “It’s lovely.”
The antique silver faces on both the front and back had been tooled with intricate swirls and feathers around the word HOLT. It reminded me of an oversized locket but without the chain.
“This was my grandpa’s. He gave it to me when I was a kid since he knew how much I loved camping and hiking. He taught me how to use it and promised that if I kept it close, I’d never get lost.”
“That’s amazing.” What a wonderful story. Holt’s Compass. The words popped into my head and I instantly loved it as a title for my new book.
Beau swiped his thumb across the compass’s face, then dropped it in his jeans pocket. “Grandpa died five years ago but I like carrying this piece of him around.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He gave me a sad smile. “Anyway, I better get going.”
