“God has given each of us a gift, a talent, a purpose, and he expects us to pursue life. That’s just what Sydney did, and now Trevor and Amanda hope to raise enough money to start a scholarship for young people who want to pursue their God-given purpose. For God does not call us to merely survive this life we’ve been given but to thrive in it. Thank you all for coming out and supporting the legacy Sydney Donovan has left behind. Let us pray.”

Pastor Tarpley’s words stayed on her mind after the “amen.” It felt like they mirrored what Meagan had told her earlier. Surviving had become her way. It didn’t feel like there was any other option. How was she supposed to pursue life when she had no idea what purpose God had for her?

“What exactly are we going to eat?” Charlie leaned close to her ear. His breath tickled the hair at the back of her neck.

“You haven’t been to a shrimp boil yet?” Lane pulled out her deepest southern drawl.

“No.”

Before she could explain, men in white aprons carrying tall stockpots walked to the table, drawing a roar of applause and whistles from the hungry crowd. They turned over the pots, dumping shrimp, sausage, red potatoes, and cobs of corn down the middle of the tables.

“Grab some and start eating.” Lane picked up a few pieces of shrimp and some potatoes.

“With our hands?” Charlie’s smile traveled to his eyes. He turned to Noah, who was already working on a piece of corn. “We eat with our hands?”

“Yes, silly.” Noah gave him a corny smile.

Charlie didn’t wait to dig in. He grabbed some of everything as ladies from the church dispersed rolls of paper towels along the tables. Lane waved to Ms. Byrdie, who was delivering baskets of their homemade cheddar biscuits.

“This might be my favorite thing about Georgia,” Charlie said between bites.

“Your favorite thing?” she teased. Or was she flirting? Whatever it was left her feeling awkward. Lane caught Meagan’s curious glance and then Lane choked on her bite as she saw her father and mother approaching. They were waving and shaking hands as though they were in a parade.

“Just breathe,” her sister mouthed.

“Now, this is a good-looking family.” Her father’s eyes zeroed in on Charlie. “I don’t think we’ve met, son. You’re the new deputy.”

“Yes, sir.” Charlie wiped his hands and then stood to shake hands with her father. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise, I’m sure. And this is my wife, Elise.” Charlie shook hands with Lane’s mother. “I trust my daughters are representing Walton’s hospitality properly.”

Charlie’s eyes met Lane’s. “They are, sir.”

“Daddy, go find a seat and get something to eat,” Meagan said as she wiped her mouth. “Before it’s all gone.”