An exercise in futility.
It hadn’t lessened the ache in his heart. Nothing had.
At last, he stood and trudged over to the window. Shoved his hands into his pockets and lifted his face toward the heavens.
Larry may have stepped a mite too far into personal territory today, but they knew each other well. And his deputy was right.
Elizabeth wouldn’t want him to grieve forever. Nor would she hold the mistake he’d made that night against him. She’d want him to move on. To love again, if the opportunity arose.
In his head, he knew that. But his heart wasn’t on board yet. Nor would it be until he could put his guilt to rest and stop what-iffing.
A monumental task he’d backburnered for years, but which had suddenly become a high priority.
Expelling a breath, Brad massaged his temple, where a dull pounding kept tempo with the beat of his heart.
Maybe Larry’s advice on the guilt front was sound too. Maybe he ought to seek forgiveness from the highest source. While his trips to church had been sporadic since that terrible night, despite Father Johnson’s attempts to reach out to him, he’d be welcomed back to the fold with open arms if he chose to return. Offered absolution.
All he had to do was open the door ... to God and the future.
A future that beckoned with a touch of brightness for the first time in three long, lonely years.
Thanks to an encounter with a lovely professor who’d brought something back to his life that had been absent since that cold, rainy night when his world came crashing down.
Hope.
TEN
AS SHE APPROACHED THE LAKE,pepper gel in hand, Cara surveyed Micah’s cabin tucked back among the trees.
The man was nowhere in sight.
Nor had she spotted him on any of the walks she’d taken over the past two weeks. Natalie’s groundskeeper knew how to keep himself scarce. Once he’d finished the kitchen fire repairs, he’d melted back into the shadows of the woods and disappeared.
Fine by her.
The occasional distant light bobbing through the trees at night through her cottage window—evidence of Micah’s nocturnal wanderings, no doubt—was disquieting enough.
She continued past the cabin, keeping it in her sights as she hiked at a brisk pace. All appeared quiet. The crude basket Micah used for produce deliveries was in its usual place beside the front door, and the small wooden cage still rested atop the stump of a large tree that must have towered over the cabin at some point. The resident rabbit she’d glimpsed inside had to be one of the injured animals Natalie had said the groundskeeper attended to.
As she left the cabin behind and began to circle the far edgeof the lake, Cara raised her face toward the blue sky, letting the warmth of the sun seep into her skin. The high temperatures from the late-summer hot spell had abated, and on this end-of-September afternoon there was a touch of fall in the air.
What a glorious day.
Best of all, the translation work was progressing at a faster pace now that she and Natalie had settled into the groove of working together, and there’d been no more drama on the estate. Her benefactor’s dizzy episodes appeared to have been an anomaly, as had the fire.
It seemed the rest of her stay here would be smooth sailing.
Even her social life had picked up, thanks to Steven.
A smile curved her lips as she watched a hawk soar overhead on a wind current.
During her stay, Natalie’s cousin had come every weekend to see his older relative, even arriving once late on a Thursday to extend his visit. And he had begun lingering until she got back from Cape on Sunday afternoons. Their hikes around the lake together were always enjoyable, as was the conversation they shared over glasses of iced tea after their return. Conveniently provided by Natalie.
While there was no real zing between them, he was a pleasant man.
Cara rounded the edge of the lake and started down the path that wove among the trees bordering the water on the far side.
The only thing that could have made the past couple of weeks better?
