Chapter 14: The Tin Box Returned**
Three days later, the sterile smell of antiseptic and clean linens replaced the scent of motor oil and pine needles. Jax sat up in a bed at the regional hospital in Bozeman, forty-two stitches holding his side together.
The door swung open, and Toby walked in, wearing brand-new denim jeans and a pair of sturdy, clean hiking boots. Clara walked behind him, holding a paper bag from the diner across the street.
"Doctor says you're lucky the blade hit a rib," Clara said, setting a steaming styrofoam container on Jax’s bedside table. "Otherwise you’d be pushing up mountain daisies."
She popped open the lid, revealing a massive stack of golden buttermilk pancakes, smothered in butter and overflowing with fresh, dark blueberries.
Jax smiled—a genuine, unforced smile that made the deep lines around his eyes soften completely. He pushed the plate toward Toby. "Told you we'd find them."
Toby didn't dig in immediately. Instead, he reached into his new jacket pocket and pulled out the rusted tin box, its edges cleaned of grime, the old black tape replaced with a clean silver band.
"The deputy found it in the wrecked truck," Toby said, placing it gently on Jax’s lap. "It belongs to both of us now."
May you like
Jax picked up the box, his hand completely steady.
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