“Yes, it’s a hobby but I’m expanding it to a little business. The café is carrying some pieces.”

She peered at a Scripture card. “Simply Shelby?”

I nodded.

Aria gingerly picked up a necklace in labradorite amber, turquoise, and purple wrapped in silver wire. After viewing the cross on the back and running her fingers over the twisted wire, she read the Scripture card. “‘Eva, life. “Whoever has the Son has life,” 1 John 5:12.’ This is beautiful—the necklace, the Scripture.” She laid it on the kitchen counter. “They’re all beautiful.”

I sensed she wanted a necklace, but what could I say knowing Dad would disapprove? He’d already be upset with her, and one of my jewelry pieces paved the way for a nasty relationship between them. Perhaps—“Pick out a stone and wire. We have time at Denton’s to make one for you.” I showed her a few stones I hadn’t used. She selected one in amber, green, and deep blue. “Good, what about a name?”

“My middle name and Grandma’s, Grace.”

“Aria Grace is beautiful. Do you have a Scripture in mind?”

“Not sure where the verse is in the Bible, but it’s the one in Ephesians about being saved by grace because it’s a gift.”

I wished I’d had her wisdom back then. “Perfect choice. Right now, let’s gather up what we need. Who knows? Denton may decide to design a piece too.” I sensed him studying us, and I caught his gaze. Curiosity and something else met me, a frightening emotion. I shivered.

Denton hadn’t stretched the truth. He cared for me, and the irony of it all was I felt the same for him.

54

Aria rubbed her arms and trembled. “He’s here,” she whispered, as though Dad’s arrival couldn’t possibly be true.

He pulled into the stone driveway beside Denton’s cabin. The two had talked twice, and both times she’d been in tears.

“You look like two scared rabbits,” Denton noted when Dad exited his car.

Aria peered out a window and watched him walk to the door. “He’s mad. I can tell by the way his shoulders are like tree trunks. It will be a long ride home.”

I remembered the dread of facing Dad when I’d gotten into trouble. “It’s not so much he’s angry. He’s disappointed.”

“Worse is, I love him and I feel awful.” She sucked in a breath. “But I won’t cry. Mom uses tears against him. She’s like a water faucet on full power.”

Aria had far too many of my traits. I took her hand and squeezed. “Aria—”

Dad’s knock stole the moment to hug her just once. But she needed Dad, just like he was my hero at her age. I’d do anything to keep their relationship solid.

Denton opened the door. “Evenin’, Clay. Come on in.”

Dad thanked him and took a step inside. He stared at Aria and me and startled. Perhaps our similarities hit him hard, the past and the present bubbling into a cauldron of suppressed emotions. Aria trembled beside me. I wanted to push her into his arms, but I might make things worse.