The boy stood beside the man, eyes alight with eagerness—and hope.

“I don’t want to keep you from your work.” He motioned toward the easel.

“My work isn’t going anywhere—and I enjoy encouraging young people with talent. Your friend here has an abundance of it.” He smiled at Noah.

The boy beamed back at him.

“In that case, have at it.” Steve lifted his cup. “I’ll get a refill.” Not that he wanted one, but it would keep his hands occupied.

Charley set Noah up with a blank canvas, gave him a few instructions, and turned him loose. Within seconds, the boy was engrossed in whatever project the artist had suggested he tackle.

After monitoring his progress for a couple of minutes, Charley rejoined him.

“He seems to be in his element here.” Steve hooked a thumb toward the boy.

“I agree. He has a natural talent. One that should be nurtured.” The corners of Charley’s mouth rose as he watched Noah work. “He reminds me of Jonathan.”

Steve stared at the man. “Did you . . . how did you know my son?”

“Beth brought him to the studio a few times.” Charley cocked his head. “She didn’t tell you?”

“No.” Or if she had, it hadn’t registered. Art had never been on his radar.

“She did mention that you weren’t too interested in drawing and painting.”

“I wasn’t—but I should have been. Anything that was important to Jonathan should have been important to me.”

“Should haves can be hard to live with.” Empathy flowed from the man, the compassion in his dark irises reaching deep into Steve’s soul.

“Yeah.” He set the cup down on the table beside him. Kneaded the bridge of his nose. “Especially when you can’t undo the damage.”

A few beats ticked by, remorse hanging heavy in the room. Weighing him down.

“I was deeply saddened by your loss last summer.” Charley’s gentle tone was filled with kindness. “Jonathan was a fine young man, and it’s hard to rationalize such heartbreak. But the minister was wise to remind us at the service that just as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are God’s ways higher than ours. His plans are often beyond our understanding.”

Charley had attended Jonathan’s funeral?

“I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.” The whole nightmare sequence of events was a blur.

“No worries. Grief has a tendency to blind us, not only during the initial period of shock but long after. I know Beth is still having a difficult go of it too.”