This should have been a moment of unbridled joy. Instead, all Noah could see ahead were doubts and questions. And fears. A huge number of fears. Starting with, what on earth was he doing? Building a boat? To do what, exactly? Run away? Cross the Pacific in search of a new life?
Well, yes.
This project was surrounded by the hope that here, in this work, he would rebuild not just a craft but the wreckage of his own life.
Only now that the next step was in sight, he was terrified.
And it wasn’t the boat.
It was Jenna.
Then his brother called from the dark, startling Noah from his reverie. “In here.”
Amos held a lead that clinked as he crossed the yard. On the lead’s other end was a dog.
A very big dog.
“This is Bear.”
“He sure looks like one.”
“Bear is half Mastiff, half Great Dane, and all teddy bear.” Amos scratched the massive head. “Bear is seventeen, same age as my older daughter. The girls have grown up with the beast. They treat him like he’s still their puppy. One or the other will show up around dusk and take him for walks. Now there’s nothing much left but his bark and his appetite. But if your home invaders return, they won’t know that.”
“If there is one.”
“Get serious.” Amos motioned him forward. “Bear, give Noah your paw.”
It was like holding a padded dinner plate. With claws.
“If you hear a foghorn blast in the night, it’s Bear. Now come give me a hand.”
Amos tied Bear’s lead to the rear porch and walked back to the sheriff’s ride. Noah asked, “Would it do any good to object?”
“There’s nothing you can object to. You might have had a break-in you stopped by the skin of your teeth. You’re out here at the end of the valley road, completely isolated. You need a guard dog.” Amos opened his trunk. “Grab one of those sacks.”
Noah hefted a fifty-pound sack of feed and carried it back to the porch. Waited while Amos returned for a pair of hard rubber bowls the size of tureens. “Feed him twice a day. Give him a good rub. Here.” Amos handed him a lead that had to be eighty feet long. Coiled like a rancher’s rope. “Fasten that to the strongest of the barn pillars.”
“Amos . . .”
He had already started back toward the car. Turned. The silhouette showed a man ready for a scrap. “What.”
Noah could see he had already lost the battle. “Thank you.”
“Take him for a walk when you feel like it. You’ll have a friend for life.” Amos climbed behind the wheel. “I’m late for dinner.”
Noah watched the car’s lights crawl back down the central road. Halt in front of a house by the gates. Heard voices. A girl’s high-pitched laughter.
He turned back to the dog and the strengthening night.
And the questions about Jenna.
He had no idea what to do.
CHAPTER22
Noah prepared for bed that night thinking about Jenna. As usual. She had come to dominate his solitary hours, the thoughts so intense she might have been in the room. Wherever he went, whatever he did, Jenna followed. Silent in the way that was unique to her. Special. The calm eyes, the woman’s quiet spirit.
He knew the building tension was all his. She did not push. She did not ask him questions that they both needed to work through. The boat, the day, the future, all of it pressed on him.
