“It sunk.” She sounded weak as a kitten.
“Sunk? How?” Caleb’s hand dropped away as he glanced out over the lake and his pulse skittered in trepidation. Accidents happened but that boat was in fine condition. He ensured so himself.
A glance around the shore confirmed nothing more than flattened greenery. “The life preserver?”
She shrugged her small shoulders. “Disappeared.”
He winced. The thought of her out there, desperate and scared…
If he hadn’t been off, barking up the wrong tree…
Barely holding himself in check—for her sake—he gently stroked aside her damp, stringy hair. “You’re all right? Should I call Doc? You seem in shock.”
“Oh, I am. I’m amazed.” She smiled then, this oddly surprised, thoroughly happy smile. “I swam, Caleb, and I made it.”
No matter how proud she was of that, his heart felt as if it bore lead weights. “How far out were you?”
“Far. Really far.”
To think she’d been alone. Could’ve easily died.
Caleb wrapped her in his embrace, hugging her tight and never wanting to let go. Even through her dampness, the sweet, feminine scent that was solely Hope cloistered his soul, one thought echoing in his head—he could’ve lost her. Had come so close to doing so…
Never again, he vowed. But somewhere in the back of his mind, insecurity niggled.
After all, hadn’t he sworn that very same thing not long past?
Closing his eyes in frustration, he released an angry exhale through his nose and told himself he just needed to get to the bottom of matters and fast, before another attack could strike. Next time they might not be so lucky. “What does the boat sinking have to do with Brian?”
“Nothing. Everything.” Her lower lip quivered from a chill even as she smiled. “I need to tell him I’m joining the choir.”
With that she turned and buried her face in his chest, sobbing.
Chapter Fifteen
All cried out.
It was a saying Hope had used more than once in her life. But until this morning, as she sat curled on the porch swing in awe of the glorious pink dawning taking place over the lake, it’d never really been true.
In her lifetime, she’d wept oceans of tears. Of grief. Of betrayal. Many times over, she’d poured out her heartache until she simply could bear it no more.
Even still, pain had lingered. She hadn’t really been cried out, just too tired to continue.
Until yesterday, never had she wept such tears of sheer relief, hope and happiness. And now she could honestly say, she’d cried herself out.
The weight holding her down had been lifted. Suddenly, she understood.
God couldn’t offer only goodness. Couldn’t answer every prayer.
But he loved her all the same. Would always offer His comfort, the joy that came in knowing Him. In the wake of that knowledge, the anger that’d gripped her so long had vanished.
Sipping at the warm coffee she snuggled in her hands, she recalled Caleb’s suggestion they watch the sunset together from this spot. What a staple in her life he’d become. With his unintended glower and soft eyes and prayers. Without even trying, he’d helped her these past weeks in more ways than she could ever express. Led her when she was blind.
Everyday since that first accident, he’d been the rock she so needed and it was as if she’d absorbed some of his strength over time.
Never had she counted on a friendship more. His reflection of faith, his strength, his guidance to help find her way. His protection.
In all ways, he was such a blessing.
Emptying her cup, Hope wished the man who’d passed out on her couch shortly after breakfast wouldn’t be so hard on himself. She found it preposterous he truly shouldered it upon himself to baby sit her twenty-four-seven now that it was the weekend.
In his voice, she heard guilt. As if he felt he were to blame for the attacks. As if he weren’t doing enough.
Did he not realize he was simply human?
A chill crept along her spine as she reflected upon the fact that someone wanted her out of the picture. Was watching her movements and ready to attack when least expected.
The thought drove her from her comfortable spot and inside the sliding glass door, Samson on her heels. She locked up behind her, securing the house.
Could Neil have hired a hit man? The thought seemed so preposterous she simply couldn’t wrap her head around it.
The random threats to her life were akin to being haunted. Sometimes, as she turned the events over in her mind, she could truly convince herself the attacks were nothing more than coincidences. An accident and faulty brakes. A misplaced tracking device. A bad dream. A stolen preserver and crack in a boat.
All so easily explainable. Except for that tear of fabric and even that, if she really wanted to stretch the imagination, could be explained. Just trash, blown in on the wind.
Trudging to the coffee pot in the shadowy morning glow of the house, Hope tried to reason away her fear.
But nothing could erase the sixth sense warning from within. Someone was trying to kill her and surely they had motive.
The question was, what?
On Caleb’s insistence, she’d called and left a message with her daddy’s lawyer the evening prior. It was a long shot but if Hope hadn’t known about the provision regarding Caleb’s position, what more might there to be learned?
Maybe, just maybe, there’d be some sort of clue within. Money Hope didn’t know about. More motive for Neil. None of which Hope suspected likely.
She’d tried to explain her daddy was a simple man—that his money had gone entirely to charity—but Caleb was right in that she’d put off the will’s reading long enough. It couldn’t hurt, anyway.
As the telephone rang now, instinctively she sensed it was Lewis Harkins returning her call. Abandoning her cup on the counter, she hurried to her daddy’s office to pick up the phone, almost tripping over Samson on the way.
“Hope Pearson speaking.”
“Hi, darlin’,” came the deep, unmistakable southern inflection of esquire Harkins. “I do apologize for not gettin’ back with you yesterday evening. The wife and I were occupied at a dinner until quite late in the evening. Now, how are matters at the ranch?”
“Interesting,” was all she could come up with as she slid in the chair behind the desk. If that wasn’t putting things mildly, she didn’t know what was. Realizing his owner was up to no fun, Samson trotted off to find a bone. “I was hoping we could go over my father’s will in more detail. I have questions.”
For example, if there was anything in it someone would want to kill her over.
“Why sure, sure. I’ll make time available whenever best suits you. When do you plan to make the drive?”
“Well…” The thought of leaving Serenity Cove, even for a couple hours, irritated. She had bible school to teach. Swimming lessons with Caleb. Her flower garden to baby. One would think Austin was a million miles away with the way her heart sank. “I was really hoping we could discuss this over the phone.”
After all, the would-be killer was out there as they spoke. She needed to know more ASAP…if there was even anything more to know other than which charities received what.
“Darlin’, there are papers to be signed. Important details to review. Your father was a thorough man who didn’t leave a stone unturned.”
In other words, more provisions? Not all surprised, she twirled the old-fashioned cord around her fingers. “Of course, I discovered Daddy left the caretaker provided for.”
“Yes, dear.”
“There’s more?” Anxious, she abandoned twirling the cord and began to doodle on the calendar. Her fears washed layside as new hope cropped.
Could it be? Might Daddy have allowed for other needs, such as the funding for Eden Retreat?
“Much, my dear.” He sighed a heavy, masculine sigh. “You’re daddy wasn’t only a client, he was a friend. Under
normal circumstances, I could courier all this to you but I promised him I’d explain in person. This will isn’t the kind a client should just tear the seal on and read. As I advised on our last call, there are things you need to know and questions you’re going to ask.”
Air lodged in her chest and she laid down the pen, forcing herself to exhale. Anxious as the words made her, she didn’t dare wake Caleb to make the trip today any more than she saw fit to ask Mr. Harkin’s to conduct business on a Sunday. “Though I’d love to come sooner, we’ll have to make it Monday, say around six.”
She’d go after bible school. Bad news or good, it was high time she heard what her father had to say.
“I’ll be waiting here at the office.”
“Sounds good. Thank you.”
Mind spinning, she hung up and opened the top drawer to put away the pen, laying her hands atop the plans to Eden Retreat for the millionth time that week.
She didn’t know what the will might reveal. Of course, Daddy was always so meticulous and determined, she couldn’t stop her hopes from bubbling.
Daddy had known he was in poor health. If he’d truly intended to make Mom’s dreams a reality, might he have allowed for the retreat in his will? But what if he hadn’t left such a provision? What would she do then? Campaign for contributions?
She decided either way she’d work matters out. Had too, because she now realized her own plans. Or rather, God’s plans for her.
Sometime over the past couple of weeks, they’d settled deep within her, unshakable. Somehow, someway, she would make Mom’s dream of Eden Retreat a reality.
Exiting the office, she found her way back to the sliding glass doors in the kitchen to catch the last glimmers of the sunrise.
There, in the woods to the right, light filtered through the green trees tops, creating prisms of sunshine that reached through their trunks. God’s fingers. Reaching out to her.
This time she was seeing in color. And she would not turn away.
* * * *
The following morning Caleb escorted Hope to church and she joined the choir. She’d never said exactly what’d happened out there in the water but the changes in her were evident.
As Caleb took his seat in the front pew next to a young mother and her children, he couldn’t manage to tear his eyes from her. Swathed in a golden dress that clung in all the right places and flowed around her legs, her hair a voluminous mass of vivid curls, she made for a heart-stopping vision.
With the shift in her spirit, she fairly glowed.
“Someone has a crush,” the lady next to him whispered and shot him a knowing smile.
“Nah,” he dismissed. “She’s just a friend.”
He really couldn’t anticipate she’d ever be anything but. But he was lucky to have her even as that.
The church bell announced the hour at hand and everyone settled in, quieting.
He’d no idea what he anticipated as Hope took her place at the front of the musical group but any thought he conjured paled in comparison.
She was such a small thing, so unexpected, hidden behind those glasses of hers. But as she opened her mouth in song, Caleb was plastered to the pew in shock. Never in his life had he heard anything more incredible.
She’d the voice of an angel.
No, scratch that. An angel would sound soft. Sweet.
Hope’s voice was anything but. Sensual. Smooth. Full-bodied and laced with a sort of power—straight from the Lord.
The mother next to him leaned in again, whispering, “You really should breathe.”
How could he? The sound of her stunning voice twisted something in him. Caleb was seeing—hearing—heaven on earth. Wishing with everything in his heart he could have her.
Yet suspecting he couldn’t. After all, he’d looked in the mirror this morning. The picture wasn’t pretty. Neither was his outlook in life.
Hope was so vibrant and full of youthful energy. She deserved a man who could care for her, provide her some sort of decent life. A man she’d want to kiss come morning. Who could chase after their children and play ball on Sunday afternoons.
That man wasn’t him.
His job was to care for the ranch best he could and protect her, nothing more, and thus far, he wasn’t even all that great at that. He’d do well not to let himself get distracted by false hopes.
Hope Pearson might be the most beautiful thing he’d ever set eyes and ears on, maybe he was even falling in love with her but this wasn’t an episode of Beauty and the Beast. It was real and his scars were for life.
* * * *
As a child, Hope remembered church often feeling akin to punishment. Bored to tears at times, just going through the motions, she could hardly sit still much less wait to get out of there.
Never would she have imagined enjoying church as much as she did that morning. Singing in the chorus had electrified her very soul. Listening to the word of God fed the hunger in her.
She felt revived. Inspired. Fulfilled.
Now, finally, she understood why her mother never wanted to miss a single one of her father’s sermons.
With Caleb by her side, she stayed after for coffee and donuts and was introduced one by one to much of the small town, including some of Caleb’s family. Sometime during the whirling excitement of handshakes and hellos, she slipped her fingers in his and held on, not particularly caring who saw or what they thought.
It just felt natural. Right.
The children invited her to play kickball in the field. Overwhelmed by new names and faces—and curious looks from his parents, who’d just arrived home from their visit with Caleb’s sister—Hope happily conceded and skipped into the sunshine for some fun, disheartened when Caleb cheered her on but refused to join in.
While he reasoned his leg was not up to the punishment, Hope suspected it was his heart that could not bear to participate.
She threw in the towel not long after, wanting, in truth, just to be with him. Driving to the center of Serenity Cove, they enjoyed some cheeseburgers, sodas and local conversation at the town diner. While Caleb visited the restroom, the waitress—a fellow congregational member—made mention of she and Caleb as a couple.
Maybe it was wrong of her but Hope didn’t bother to correct the woman, despite knowing in a town as small as this, the rumor bug flew fast and furious.
In her heart, Hope felt as if they were together. That God wanted it to be so.
The day trickled on in an easygoing, pleasant way, with a visit to the grocery store. As they loaded their goods into the truck bed, Caleb discovered the strangest thing. “The life preserver.” He lifted the bone dry, faded orange rectangle by the straps.
“How’d it get there?”
The two glanced at each other in confusion then shrugged with no answer. It was as if it hadn’t just been lost or stolen but deliberately planted.
It was all they talked about on the way to the produce stand, still drawing no good solution as they stopped by his family ranch to gather fresh eggs. Hope had barely stepped from the truck when she was greeted by a passel of five or six eager-for-petting, wagging dogs of all shapes, sizes and colors.
In the embrace of warm, fresh country air, his mother insisted the ladies utilize a trip to the garden to collect blueberries for Caleb—one of his favorites—while Caleb helped his father remove some faulty, stuck-on part from the tractor.
Given they’d raided a produce stand only an hour previously, Hope suspected they needed extra blueberries about as much as his father needed a hand.
“We’ll leave the boys to their toys and enjoy some girl time.” Walking with buoyant, cheerful strides beside Hope—two dogs in tow—Sally McBryde handed her a small bucket. “Every picked berries before, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart, just as Caleb called her.
They walked through garden rows toward the opposite side of the field, where bushes were draped with nets.
“No. Well, wild ones in the woods.” Her mom had loved to garden but f
lowers only, never fruits and vegetables. “I discovered a patch of blackberries in the woods not far from our house when I was a kid.”
“Glad to hear you’re not too much of a city-slicker.” Lifting aside the bird block, Sally held up a branch. “Same as blackberries, nothing to it. Just pick the darkest ones. If they appear pink or greenish, they’ll taste sour.”
Unlike her son, Hope noticed, Sally’s smile hadn’t once as much as drooped. Just be in her vicinity made Hope feel warm and liked, even though she suspected Sallie had alternative motives for this task.
“Easy enough.” After sampling the fruit, Hope dropped several in her bucket, wondering on some fanciful level if this bright and sunny woman would one day be her mother-in-law.
It was a presumptuous thing to speculate and yet Hope could not tamp down the urging in her heart.
Disappearing on the opposite side of the plant, Sally’s efficient movements were visible through the greenery. “I imagine love can be like a lot like berries. If you’re rushing, pick it too soon in life…”
Instantly, the comparison brought her relationship with Neil to mind. Bad. Sour. Incapable of ever budding into something sweet and succulent. “Of course, some berries are plain bad, no way around it.”
“Sure, sure.” Sally quietly studied her for a moment. “I reckon so.”
The atmosphere reeked of underlying implication. Sally had something more to say, blatant curiosity in her gaze.
Delicate fruit practically fell into Hope’s palms as she waited for the hammer to drop and she deposited the blueberries in the bucket, momentarily thinking of the muffins she’d make Caleb since they’d have so many extra. Of how much she relished the joy that lit up in his eyes when she baked for him.
“You sure do have beautiful eyes,” Sally offered. “Hair too.”
“Thank you.”
“My son wasn’t lying when he said you were pretty.”
“Caleb said that?” Sally laughed as Hope jerked her gaze to hers.
“Noah did.” Shielding her face with weathered hands, Sally paused from her picking. “Hope, it’s not like me to worry but in this case I can’t help myself. Caleb’s had a hard way the past two years. He’s in a vulnerable spot.”
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