Beth scanned the sky to her right, where the sun was descending toward the sea that was hidden from view, tinting the billowy clouds pink and gold. It was the kind of view she and Steve had often enjoyed together as the day wound down.

And would again, if she went home.

That wasn’t a decision she had to make tonight, though. The two of them would have to talk first. Listen. Reconnect. Recommit.

Then, if they agreed to give it another go, perhaps the Almighty would temper their grief and help them embrace new opportunities that would grace their marriage for all the years to come.

27

She was asleep again. Third night this week.

As the clock ticked toward midnight, Jack closed the front door with a quiet click and surveyed the scene in his living room.

Christi was on the couch, head tipped back against the upholstery, laptop on one side, papers strewn across the cushion on the other. Much like the first night he’d found her there. A lined tablet rested in her lap, and her pen lay on the floor where it must have fallen after she’d nodded off.

His prediction had come true. Working two paying jobs plus spearheading the ambitious festival project was taking a toll.

He moved a few steps closer and extracted his keys—his usual wake-up call.

But he didn’t jingle them.

Instead, he studied the face that had haunted his dreams for years. More seasoned now but still beautiful despite fine lines at the corners of her eyes and faint, permanent creases in her brow.

At this range, there was also clear evidence of fatigue. Pale blue shadows beneath her lower lashes. A slight pallor unrelated to her fair complexion. Too-prominent cheekbones that suggested weight loss.

In light of everything he’d been hearing from the various merchants he’d encountered during his rounds this week, her exhaustion was warranted. Apparently she’d been barreling full speed ahead on the festival since Tuesday night’s committee-head meeting.

In fact, according to Beth—who’d summoned law enforcement this afternoon to investigate a suspicious vehicle parked across from her shop that was gone by the time he arrived—Christi was giving Marci a run for her money in the dynamo department. Steve’s wife had regaled him with a litany of her new clerk’s many fine attributes.

Cementing his initial hunch that he’d been summoned to the shop on spurious grounds.

He tightened his grip on the keys. Ran the pad of his thumb over one bumpy edge.