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“Thanks to you, you mean.” He clapped me on the shoulder, same as he had that first day I’d nervously taken a seat at his desk. “Still thinkin’ about that job offer?”

I glanced over at West, who just raised his eyebrows at me, leaving the choice entirely in my hands same as he always did now. No pressure, no pushing. Just patience and acceptance for whatever I chose next.

“Yeah,” I said slowly, testing the word out loud for the first time and finding it didn’t scare me near as much as it used to. “I think I am.”

Marcus’s whole face lit up, that rare smile of his breaking through. “I’m glad to hear it, Rhett. Real glad. You’ll be quite an asset down at the office. Hell, you already are.”

“I don’t know about that,” I chuckled sheepishly. “But thanks nonetheless.”

“Well,” Marcus said, tipping his hat back a little further, “I best get on back to makin’ sure nobody’s kid gets lost in the straw bale maze again. Had three already this mornin’.” He started to turn, then paused, looking back at me with something softer in his eyes. “Hey, Rhett.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m real proud of the work you’ve done,” he said. “Both at the office and personally. It takes a good man to see the error of his ways and make it right. And I bet everyone’s glad to have their things back too.” He tipped his hat. “Take care now.”

My stomach dropped like a stone. I just stood there a second, waiting for the rest of it, for the part where his voice went hard and he asked me to come down to the station so we could talk about jail time. But it never came. He just walked off toward the straw bale maze, whistling something low under his breath like he hadn’t just about stopped my heart cold.

“He knows,” I said, soon as Marcus was far enough off not to hear me.

“‘Course he knows.” West squeezed my hand, not even a little surprised. “Figured he’d known for a couple weeks now, if I’m honest.”

I turned on him so fast I about gave myself whiplash. “You figured? And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Wasn’t my place to tell you somethin’ I only had a hunch about.” He shrugged, easy as anything, like we were discussing the weather and not the fact that the sheriff of Sagebrush had apparently known I was the town thief for weeks now and never said a word. “Besides, look how it turned out. He ain’t draggin’ you off in cuffs, is he? He’s offerin’ you a job and a chance to make it right.”

I thought back over the past month, every little thing Marcus had said that I’d let slide right past me without really hearing it. All the stolen items had turned back up without so much as a footprint. He’d said that very first week after I returned it all. He thought maybe the thief finally left town. Or maybe he just found somethin’ better to do. I’d thought he was just making conversation. Now it sat differently on my shoulders, heavier and lighter all at once.

“He let me keep workin’ for him,” I said slowly, “knowin’ the whole time.”

“Sounds like Marcus to me.” West pulled me along toward the dunking booth, where some kid was winding up to dunk the rodeo clown in the seat. “He probably doesn’t believe in punishin’ somebody twice for the same mistake. You fixed it. Gave it all back, worked yourself half to death makin’ this fair happen. I reckon that was punishment enough for him, and restitution besides.”

I let that settle into me as we walked, watching the fair swirl around us, all those familiar faces from a town that had somehow found its way to forgiving me before I’d even fully forgiven myself. Mrs. Baxter was still hollering about pie crusts, and Dolly was waving her server in the air at someone else. Cash and Mike were setting up a ring toss booth a little further down, Mike’s sleeves rolled up and sweat on his brow, looking happier than I’d ever seen a pastor look in my whole life. Xavier was there too, leaned up against the fence by the horse pens, deep in some conversation with a rancher I didn’t recognize, laughing at something with his head thrown back. And there, down the way, was the infamous Beau Turner, working at his smoker like the devil himself was breathing down his neck, his husband Lucas trying to get him to drink some sweet tea.

“You think he’ll ever say somethin’ about it?” I asked. “To anybody else I mean?”

“Why would he?” West asked. He glanced over at me, those silver eyes of his catching mine as he squeezed my hand. “No reason to go stirrin’ up trouble doin’ somethin’ like that.” He gave my hand a tug, pulling me toward the midway. “Will you ride the ferris wheel with me?”

“Course I will,” I said, letting him tug me along, my hand still tangled up with his like I never wanted to let go of it again. “Long as you don’t go makin’ us the top story of the evenin’ news, screamin’ like a little girl when we get stuck at the top.”

“I don’t scream,” he said, though the way his ears went pink told me different.

“You screamed somethin’ fierce that one time when we was kids,” I reminded him. “Sometimes I swear I still got that bruise on my arm from where you about broke it.”

“That cart was defective,” he muttered, though he was fighting a grin now. “Ain’t my fault the safety bar was loose.”

We got in line behind a family with three kids, all of them sticky with cotton candy, their mama trying to wipe down one boy’s face while he squirmed away from her. I watched them for a second, thinking about how simple that looked. A mama and her kids at the fair, nothing weighing on any of them heavier than which ride to go on next. I used to envy that kind of simple. Now I figured maybe I was finally getting a taste of it myself.

The line moved slowly in the heat, but I didn’t mind. West kept his arm slung easy around my shoulders, and every few minutes somebody we knew would wave or holler out a hello, and not one single person looked at us twice for standing there together like that. A month ago I would’ve flinched at every one of those glances, waiting for the moment somebody’s face twisted up ugly like West’s daddy’s had. But it never came. Just a town going on about its business, fair lights starting to flicker on now that the sun had dipped low enough to paint everything gold.

“Penny for your thoughts,” West said, nudging me with his hip.

“Just thinkin’ about how different everything feels,” I admitted. “A month ago I was sure I’d be runnin’ from this town, or sittin’ in a jail cell, or both. Now look at us.”

“Now look at us,” he echoed, pressing a kiss to the top of my head right there in line, not caring who saw. “Ain’t so bad, is it? Stickin’ around?”

“Nah,” I said, leaning into him. “Ain’t so bad at all.” I paused a second. “Hear anythin’ from your daddy yet?”

West blew out a long sigh. “Not yet. Dale says he’s still bein’ a right pain in the ass.”