But the smile in her eyes said so much more than her careful words. She was happy. Genuinely happy in a way Gabe hadn’t seen in years.
That made his heart lighter despite everything that had happened yesterday.
His mother deserved happiness. She deserved someone who would treat her with respect and kindness and the knowledge that she was precious.
Holly’s parental concern kicked in, pulling her attention to his crutches and cast. “Where are you off to?”
“Just a walk,” Gabe assured her. “Don’t worry, I’m not going on the sand. I’m staying on the boardwalk where it’s flat.”
Holly’s eyes narrowed skeptically. “Take it easy, please. Don’t push yourself.”
She stepped forward and kissed his cheek in that mom way she’d done since he was a baby. Some things never changed, even when your kid was a thirty-two-year-old Navy SEAL.
“I’m fine, Mom. Go run.” He smiled at her.
Holly squeezed his arm once more, then headed toward the door that led to the beach path. Gabe watched her go, grateful she was starting to heal, and terrified that his father’s presence would undo all that progress.
He continued toward the boardwalk exit, navigating the crutches with growing efficiency if not grace.
The morning air was cool and crisp, that particular December chill that felt refreshing rather than cold. The boardwalk stretched out before him, mostly empty at this early hour.Sunrise was just beginning to paint the sky in shades of pink and gold.
Gabe found a rhythm with the crutches, the repetitive motion almost meditative. Left, right, swing. Left, right, swing. His shoulders would be sore later from the unusual exertion, but it felt good to move, to be outside, to do something other than lie in bed being haunted by nightmares or sit around all day.
He’d made it about halfway down the boardwalk when he spotted someone at the end of it. An easel was set up, and someone was standing before it with a paintbrush in hand.
As Gabe got closer, he recognized Jane from behind. She was completely absorbed in her work, her hand moving across the canvas with confident strokes.
The painting was taking shape. It was a sunrise over the ocean, the colors vivid and beautiful. Oranges bleeding into pinks, purples at the edges where night still clung to the sky.
Gabe approached quietly, not wanting to startle Jane but also not wanting to interrupt if she was in the middle of something important.
But crutches on wooden planks weren’t exactly silent. Jane heard him coming and turned, paintbrush still in hand, a smudge of orange paint on her cheek she didn’t seem to know was there.
“Mind if I sit?” Gabe asked, gesturing to the bench beside her easel.
Jane hesitated for just a moment, then nodded. “No. Sure.”
Gabe navigated his crutches carefully, grateful to take the weight off his good leg. The bench offered a perfect view of the sunrise Jane was capturing on her canvas.
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, Jane returning to her painting while Gabe watched the real sunrise compete with the one she was creating.
“You’re really good at that,” he said finally.
Jane glanced at him, a small smile playing at her lips. “Thanks. I’ve been doing it a while.”
There was something peaceful about her presence at the moment. Jane wasn’t as withdrawn or on guard as she usually was.
“Are you an artist by trade?” Gabe asked.
Jane laughed, and the sound startled him. It transformed her whole face, making her look younger, softer, and more beautiful than he’d realized. The cool professional polish she usually wore fell away, revealing something warm underneath.
“No,” Jane said, still smiling. “I was a research scientist at Lockheed Martin in the West Palm Beach facility.”
Gabe was legitimately impressed. “Lockheed? That’s serious work.”
“It was,” Jane agreed. “But that was my past.”
“Is being an artist in your future?”Gabe asked.
