She’d grown up going to church, but she’d moved away from believing in God while in college.
Yet when everything had been lost, when she’d hit rock bottom, she’d known more than ever that God was her only hope.
She’d found a church, had started reading her Bible, and had begun the baby steps of building back her faith.
With a sigh, Kori decided to try one more password—a date that lived in the back of her mind like a stone she couldn’t move.
November eighth.
The night a drunk driver on I-66 hit her parent’s car, killing them on impact.
Kori had just been offered a job in LA. Mackenzie had been a senior in college after taking a gap year to travel Europe. Kori had been the one to make the call to notify her sister about the accident.
She couldn’t have forgotten that date if she’d tried.
She typed it in and held her breath as she waited.
The screen unlocked.
She blew out a breath. It had worked.
Of all the dates Mackenzie could have chosen, she’d chosen that one. Not their mother’s birthday. Not their father’s.
She’d chosen the worst night of both their lives.
Maybe she and Mackenzie did have something in common—they both thought about that horrible night every single day.
“Wyatt.”
Kori called his name, and Wyatt paced toward the desk, anxious to know if she’d found something.
The laptop was open, and he leaned closer to read the screen.
As he did, he caught the scent of Kori’s perfume. It smelled clean and cottony with hints of coconut.
Coconut . . .
At once, Brynn’s image rushed back into his mind.
She’d always worn a coconut-based sunscreen. The lotion was the all-natural kind climbers used.
For a split second, Wyatt wasn’t in Blue Ridge Hollow anymore. He was back in Patagonia, the wind cutting sideways, Brynn’s braid whipping against her shoulder.
She’d been leading expeditions there for six years when Wyatt had met her. She was far more experienced than he in certain terrain, though he’d never admitted that out loud.
They’d worked the same routes for two seasons before their relationship became something else.
For a while what they’d had together was the best thing in his life. They’d been two people who understood the same language, who wanted the same mornings, and who needed the kind of quiet only nature could provide.
Then Sarah had died, and Wyatt had come home. The geography between him and Brynn became a gap neither could close.
He’d asked Brynn if she’d consider coming with him.
She’d been speechless, which told him everything he needed to know.
He’d hoped she might change her mind. That she might miss him. That she might realize the two of them being together was far more important than the place where they lived.
But she’d never contacted him. She’d moved on, choosing her dreams over him.
