Chapters (38)
In fact, on more than one occasion he’d been tempted to get Charley’s take on his situation.
Yet as far as he could see, there was no solution to the impasse short of returning to his former world and toeing the line—and that wasn’t happening. The new life he’d built these past two and a half years suited him, and now that he was settled in Hope Harbor, he was more convinced than ever his decision to walk away had been the right one.
“You still with me, Zach?” Charley’s lips tipped up.
“Yeah.” He refocused. “You think she’s a visitor?”
“I’d classify her more as a seeker.”
What did that mean?
Before he could ask, Bren appeared at his elbow. “Here you go, Charley.” She popped a cinnamon stick into his drink, snapped on a lid, and handed the cup over the counter.
“Thanks. It’s a treat to have authentic Mexican coffee available here in our little town.”
“We aim to please.” The door opened again to admit what appeared to be a family of tourists, and Zach lifted his hand in welcome. “Everyone must be in the mood for coffee today.”
“Count your blessings.” Charley raised his cup in salute. “I’m off to the taco stand.”
“I’ll try to send a few customers your direction.”
“Always appreciated. Maybe Kat will stop by.”
“You know her last name?” He kept tabs on the newcomers as they perused his menu board and examined the offerings in the pastry case.
“No. But I may find out if she visits the stand. Or she might come back here again and you can take another crack at breaching that wall she’s put up. See you soon.” He strolled toward the door.
The new customers began to pepper him with questions about the pastry selection, but as he answered, the image of the mystery woman sitting alone on a bench at the wharf—and Charley’s comment that she could use a friend—remained front and center in his mind.
If she was dealing with a bunch of garbage, he ought to cut her some slack for her lack of sociability today. Been there, done that—and it was a bad place to be.
Yet thanks to grit, determination . . . and the kind people of Hope Harbor, who’d welcomed him into the community he now called home . . . he’d survived.
Hard to say if the woman hiding behind the dark shades had similar fortitude . . . and if she was merely passing through, he’d never find out.
But if she stuck around awhile, perhaps in Hope Harbor she’d discover a resolution to the thorny issues Charley seemed to think might be plaguing her.