Her heart sank, and she swallowed.
“Savannah is my sister-in-law. Sarah’s sister.”
Shock bounced through her. “Sarah’s sister?”
He nodded. “And we are close. But when I came here, I told her I needed to get away from everything. That included her. I love her, and she has a big heart, but she’s quite the force of nature. Always trying to get me to move on. Hovering over me. Asking me too many questions. I needed to go somewhere away from all that. The memories. The questions. The prodding to move on.”
“So she came here to see how you were doing?”
“Partially. And she asked me a favor. She wants me to give the keynote speech at the literary festival. Sarah was the one who started the festival and organized it each year. Savannah thinks I should give a speech. About literacy. About writing. About books. About… Sarah and what the festival meant to her.”
She stepped back, her mind whirling with this new information. Sarah’s sister. Of course. The pieces clicked into place—Mark’s reaction when Savannah arrived, the bond between them. She sank into the porch chair, processing what it meant.
Heat rose to her cheeks as she recalled her assumptions. She’d jumped to conclusions, letting her old fears take control. Dean’s betrayal had left deeper scars than she’d realized.
“I should have told you sooner about Savannah,” Mark said, settling into the chair beside her. “I just… It’s complicated. Talking about Sarah, about that part of my life.”
She glanced out at the bay, buying time to gather her thoughts. The literary festival. No wonder Mark had seemed so conflicted. Speaking about Sarah in front of all those people would force him to confront his grief in such a public way.
“That’s quite a request your sister-in-law’s made,” she said softly.
“It is.” His shoulders looked weighted down with responsibility. “Sarah loved that festival. She poured her heart into it every year. I told Savannah I’d think about it. I’m just not sure I can be pulled back into that world…”
The breeze carried the scent of magnolia blossoms across the porch. She thought about her own experience with loss and how even years later, certain memories could catch her off guard. But Mark’s situation was different—he’d be standing in front of a crowd, speaking about the woman he’d loved completely and lost to death.
“I’ve been sitting out here trying to write that speech in my head,” he admitted. “Every time I start, I see Sarah’s face. I hear her voice. She was so passionate about bringing authors and readers together. Make books accessible to everyone.”
Darlene’s heart ached for him. She understood now. He wasn’t just dealing with their growing feelings for each other—he was wrestling with how to honor Sarah’s memory while allowing himself to move forward.
He sank into the chair beside her. “And then there is… us. Whatever this is.” He reached out and took her hand.
She stared down at his hand for a moment, then looked at him. “Maybe now isn’t the time for us to figure out what this is. Maybe our timing is off.” She tried to slip on a smile. “It sounds like you still have things to figure out. Decisions to make.”
“Maybe you’re right. I need to figure myself out before I can drag another person through all my baggage and into my life.”
Those were not the words she wanted to hear, but they were practical words. They held a thread of truth in them. How can anyone move on if they don’t sort out their past? Hadn’t she jumped to conclusions about Mark and Savannah because of Dean? She hadn’t sorted out her past, either.
She pulled her hand from his and pushed up out of her seat. “I’ve got things to do in the kitchen. I’ll leave you out here to…”
He looked up at her with sadness lurking in his eyes as he simply nodded.
She hurried inside, trying not to look like she was running away. Hiding. Because she was just being practical, right?
Chapter20
Darlene threw herself into her work at the B&B. She scrubbed the kitchen counters until they gleamed, dusted every windowsill twice, and reorganized the guest welcome baskets multiple times so there was no room for wandering thoughts. The distance between her and Mark had grown with each day, a wall erected by their shared understanding that now was not the time to explore their feelings. She moved through her daily tasks mechanically, trying to keep her mind from constantly drifting to the moments they had shared and the potential future that now seemed just out of reach.
At breakfast, they exchanged polite smiles and small talk, but the warmth and ease of their previous interactions had been replaced by a cautious reserve. One afternoon, they found themselves sharing a glass of iced tea on the porch, but the conversation felt strained, both carefully avoiding the topic that hung in the air between them.
Felicity noticed the change in her. She approached Darlene one evening as she was folding laundry in the utility room.
“Gran, are you okay?” Felicity asked, her eyes full of concern.
She forced a smile. “Of course, dear. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Felicity sat down beside her, taking a towel from the basket and folding it. “You seem… different lately. Ever since Mark’s sister-in-law visited.”
She set aside the sheet she had been folding. “It’s complicated, sweetheart.”
