Whispers of Change - Ch 26 The Final Chapter

Echo Canyon’s women didn’t just “stay friends” — they built a new world together.

Life’s real second act begins after the applause fades.

Val, Riley, Skylar, and Raven didn’t find purpose in trophies or titles.

They found it in the simplest, most dangerous thing:

Sitting still.

Listening.

Choosing each other — again and again.

This was their moment.

A quiet gathering, just them—Raven, Val, Riley, Skylar, Ben, Sam, and Shikáni.

No speeches. No plans.

Just space to breathe and reflect.

The flames flickered and danced, their light casting long shadows across familiar faces.

Val sat close to the fire, her knees drawn up, her arms loosely wrapped around them.

Her gaze drifted toward Ben.

He was quiet tonight. More so than usual.

His eyes were on the fire, but Val sensed his thoughts were elsewhere—rooted in the land, in the past, in questions he hadn’t yet asked.

“Long day?” Her voice was soft, just for him.

Ben’s eyes lifted, and his guarded expression softened for a moment.

“Always.”

But the smile that touched his lips was genuine.

“The land never stops asking, does it?” Val said, echoing something Ben had once told her.

“No.”

His voice was quieter now, almost thoughtful.

“But sometimes… it asks different questions.”

Their eyes met across the fire, the silence stretching between them—not awkward, but charged with something unspoken.

Val felt it.

And this time, Ben did too.

But he didn’t know what to do with it.

Not yet.

“We’ll figure it out,” she said, her voice barely louder than the crackle of the fire.

She wasn’t sure if she meant the land, or them.

Maybe both.

Ben nodded slowly.

“Yeah.”

And in that moment, something shifted.

Riley leaned back, tilting her head toward the stars.

The fire’s glow danced in her eyes, but her thoughts were elsewhere—on blueprints, preservation plans, and the quiet satisfaction of a job well done.

“You know,” she said, breaking the stillness, “this is big. Really big. On one hand, Echo Canyon’s legacy is rooted in its beginning, with the Sabákari. It was their home first.”

She nodded to Raven, then to Sam.

“And then the Spanish came. Families started mixing and others joined. Like most of us here. This community is tiny. But we’ve won big.”

Her gaze dropped slightly.

“And now we have to figure out how it will maintain balance without being left behind as modernization keeps rolling forward. I just wish Cameron and Channing could have been here tonight.”

She wasn’t chasing recognition anymore.

Her work was rooted here, in Echo Canyon.

And while she didn’t know what came next, she was at peace with not knowing.

“We can’t do it all in one day.”

Skylar’s voice was firm, her eyes steady on Riley.

“You and Ben accomplished something major. But we’re not alone. Other towns are years ahead of us—keeping their past alive while embracing the future. We can learn from them.”

“Good point.” Riley smiled, content.

“For once, I’m okay with where we are.”

Skylar’s gaze lingered a beat longer.

“Good.”

The others nodded, letting the fire crackle between them without forcing more words.

Sam sat a little apart from the others, his sharp eyes drifting across the faces lit by the fire.

He was always watching. Always noticing.

The land was changing.

Not in ways most would see.

But he felt it in the shift of the winds, the movement of animals, the quiet tension humming through people.

He caught Ben’s eye, and without speaking, the two men stood together.

“We’re going to check the horses,” Sam said simply.

As he passed Shikáni, he paused.

His voice dropped low.

“The winds are calm,” he said, “but change is never far away.”

Raven looked up from the fire as he said it.

Change.

So much change.

Was she ready?

The men’s leaving left just the women gathered by the fire.

Each with their own thoughts.

Skylar’s fingers brushed absently over the rim of her empty cup.

Her thoughts drifted—not toward fear, but toward legacy.

She had time.

The doctors had been clear:

“We can slow it. We don’t know yet if we can stop it.”

But Skylar had never been one to stand still.

If her mind was a race against time, she would leave something behind—and she still had hope.

Shikáni sat quietly, watching the others.

Admiring their stillness.

The weight of legacy sat heavier tonight, pressing into her chest.

Her grandmother’s voice echoed in her mind:

“When the land speaks, we listen.”

But now the land wasn’t just speaking.

It was calling.

“Soon,” she whispered, rising quietly.

“I’ll see you all soon. I think I’ll turn in.”

The women wished her a good night, their words floating gently into the firelight.

After a long moment, Val stirred, a thoughtful look on her face.

“I was just thinking about how we all came to be here tonight. It wasn’t that long ago when we didn’t even know each other.”

One by one, the others nodded, memories flickering like the fire itself.

The fire burned lower, its warmth fading but not gone.

Raven’s voice broke the silence first.

“As his cousin, I knew Ben first. He’s the connection between us all.”

“Is that true?” Val asked, surprised.

“I met Charlotte before I ever met Ben. He used to drop her off at the Gardens when she took classes. But I don’t think I met him until after she died.”

“I met Ben when I bought his brother’s house next door to his,” Riley added, leaning forward in her chair. “And he’s the one who sent me to you, Val, to learn about planting flowers in pots.”

Val smiled.

“And I met you, Raven, at the nursery—you helped me figure out what I was looking for. I thought you worked there!”

Her laugh was soft.

“But you were just there to help. Ben must’ve sent you.”

Raven’s smile deepened.

“Yes.”

Riley turned toward Skylar.

“But you and Jim weren’t even living here when I first met you. How did you come into this circle?”

Skylar chuckled.

“I was working on the community garden between digs. Ben came by once—brought heirloom seeds.”

Val nodded knowingly.

“Sounds like Ben.”

“We got talking,” Skylar continued, “and he mentioned a house for sale up in the cooler part of the Canyons. Jim and I jumped at it. Ben also suggested I get involved with the garden community—and that I meet you, Riley. He thought we had a lot in common: gardening, architecture, time abroad.”

“At the time,” she added with a smile, “you all were just starting to talk about writing a book together. And I happened to do a little book editing on the side.”

Riley grinned.

“We ‘coincidentally’ met at the airport.”

Val snorted.

“Are you sure Ben didn’t set that up too?”

Laughter rippled through the group.

Raven’s voice grew more thoughtful.

“But don’t you all see? Ben might have created the ways for us to meet… but it’s the gardens that became the glue between us. Even for Quinn, Channing, and Cameron.

If it hadn’t been for the Centennial, we still would have been working together—side by side, digging and planting.”

“And when we were overwhelmed?”

Riley said it with a tired smile.

“We gardened,” everyone said together, laughing.

“That’s what we have to remember.”

Riley stretched, stifling a yawn.

“If I don’t get outside every day, I’m a wreck.”

She stood.

“I’m tired. I think I’ll head home.”

“Me too,” Skylar agreed.

“Val came with me. Are you ready?”

Val nodded, and the three hugged Raven goodnight before heading for the cars.

As Riley drove home, the full moon lit her way, bathing the canyon in silver light.

A feeling gripped her—sudden, overwhelming.

Change was coming.

And there was no stopping it.

Inside her house, as she set down her keys, Riley’s phone chirped.

Quinn.

She answered quickly.

“Hey, Quinn! How’s Japan?”

Riley’s heart quickened as she listened to Quinn’s voice through the phone.

There was a strange tightness in Quinn’s tone—a hesitation that sent a chill through her.

“Riley… I’m coming to Sabáka on the red-eye tomorrow morning.

Could you pick me up at the airport?”

The fire was never the end. It was the invitation. Echo Canyon isn’t done writing its story.

And neither are they.

Watch for the first chapters of Book 2, Women of the Canyon.