Was that the point? Did his uncle think he would run away if things got serious with Lane? Charlie shifted under the assumption. He wasn’t running away from the Marines. He had fulfilled his obligation. Honorably. If he were running, it was toward a life that didn’t reflect his father’s. He wanted a life that put family before career.

“Sir, I have no intentions of hurting Lane. Or Noah. The emotion lingering in her eyes is as real as the ring still on her finger.” Charlie swallowed. “My intention is to get to know her. Have dinner. I’d like to take her some flowers, maybe even chocolate—if people still do that kind of thing—and if given the chance, make her smile. Because, sir, she has a smile that’d make troops sign up for boot camp a hundred times over.”

The sheriff’s deep gray eyes appraised him. “Lane’s been through more than her fair share of grief and I don’t want to see her get hurt, but your aunt says she’s been different since you’ve come around.”

Charlie’s pulse surged. “Good different?”

Sheriff Huggins peered at him beneath a blaze of white hair. “Son, I don’t reckon she’d have agreed to a date with you if it was bad.”

The affirmation was like a balm Charlie didn’t know his soul needed.

“Be careful. That’s all I’m asking.”

“Yes, sir.” Charlie hesitated a second, wondering if the parental speech was over. When Sheriff Huggins reached for a file, Charlie took a chance and stood. “Is there anything else you need?”

“Lane prefers potted flowers over bouquets”—Sheriff Huggins picked up a file and thumbed through it—“and salted caramel chocolate is her favorite.”

Charlie grinned. “Yes, sir.”

ELEVEN

HAD SHE REALLY DONE THAT? Agreed to a date with Charlie? Lane chewed the inside of her lip. A smile begged to be released. A date? No, it wasn’t a date. Not really. It was the church benefit. Casual. Right. Then why hadn’t her heart regained a normal rhythm since leaving the sheriff’s station?

“Are we at Daddy’s garden?”

Noah’s tiny voice brought sobriety to her thoughts. “Yes, buddy. Do you have your picture?”

Noah held up a coloring-book page he had finished while her grandfather, Pops, had watched him. Lane helped Noah out of the car and together they walked through a path of oak trees until they reached the large granite slabs. Noah went straight to the section in the back where Mathias’s name was carved and sat down in the shade of a magnolia tree. His lips moved and Lane kept her distance, knowing this time between her son and his daddy was precious and private.