“Noah, why don’t you show Beth your sketchbook? She likes art. I think she’d especially enjoy seeing the dragonfly and tide pool.” Steve used his calm voice. The one he employed on the job whenever someone he was dealing with got spooked.

The boy cast her an uncertain look.

“I’d love to see them, Noah. Please?”

A few beats passed, and then he sidled nearer to her on the bench, sliding the sketchbook along with him. “I’m not real good.”

“That’s not what Charley said.” Steve took a swig of his water.

“Charley’s seen your drawings?” Beth waited while Noah flipped the book open to the first page.

“Uh-huh. Sergeant Adams took me to his studio and I showed him my book. It was awesome!”

Again, Beth scrutinized Steve.

Why had he done for this boy what he’d never done for their son?

Or had he homed in on Noah because he’d recognized his mistakes with Jonathan and was trying to make amends?

That was a question worth contemplating.

But for now, she gave Noah her full attention while she ate her tacos. Praised his work, offered encouragement, savored his shy smiles and the enthusiasm that sparked in his eyes. Like it once had in Jonathan’s.

And as the boy began to respond to her attention, the hope she’d experienced earlier resurged.

Maybe the sudden uptick in her attitude was due to the bright blue sky above, or the inspiring Pelican Point lighthouse visible on the soaring headland in the distance, or the warmth of the sun soaking into her skin, or the expansive view of the cerulean sea and limitless horizon.

Or maybe it came from the uplifting sense that today could be a new beginning—if she found the courage to open her heart to the possibilities ahead.

Steve gave his watch a surreptitious scan. Much as he hated to break up their impromptu picnic, they had to leave.

But Noah would be disappointed. He was having a blast. The boy was completely relaxed now, chatting away with Beth, responding to her genuine interest—as did everyone who entered his wife’s orbit. While she claimed to be an introvert, her quiet sincerity was like a magnet for people of all ages. Noah was no exception.

And his reaction earlier when she’d reached toward him was evidence he needed Beth’s tender, caring empathy more than most.

Steve uncapped his water, watching the boy. Unless he’d misread that cue, there was abuse somewhere in his background. He’d have to do a bit of digging, see what he could find in the records.

One thing for certain. He hadn’t had a mother like Beth.

Steve finished off his water and pulled out his keys.

Noah stopped talking midsentence and shot him a crestfallen look. “Do we have to go?”

“Yes. Your foster dad will be worried if we’re late.”