The town of Coral Canyon itself hadn’t seemed to change much. It had felt bigger as a child, but Ben estimated it to be slightly larger than Island Park, with several blocks of very touristy shops, restaurants, and art galleries. Behind that, the real town breathed, with farms, quaint houses, and pastures full of cows, horses, chickens, and pigs.
The rusted steel moose his mother had loved still stood guard outside the ritziest gallery, and Ben could hear his mother’s high-pitched voice saying she was going to own it one day. A burst of sadness exploded through him at the realization that at least one of her dreams hadn’t come true. He wondered how many others she’d given up to raise four boys on the outskirts of a tiny mountain town while her husband planted and plowed.
The commercial a
