“As far as the east is from the west—that’s how far He’s removed your sins from you,” she continued. “Death has no claim on you. Neither does guilt. Every single chain has been broken. They’re all lying shattered at your feet.” Her voice wobbled, and a tear spilled over her lashes. “It’s as if you haven’t noticed. You’re still standing in the jail cell of guilt instead of living like someone who’s free.”

He pulled to a stop in front of her house and faced her.

“You’re free,” she repeated. She needed her words to penetrate his hard heart. “Every chain is broken.”

He reached out and caught her tear on his thumb. Gently, he wiped it away. “I’m not worth your tears.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I see your worth so clearly. I only wish you could see a fraction of what I see.” Quiet bound them in the warm interior of the truck. She felt God’s presence—between them, within her. “Will you think on that?”

He stared at her, dashboard light illuminating one side of his face.

“Will you?” she asked again.

“Yes.”

The full-blown sermon he’d predicted she’d give collected in her throat. However, like those red flags at the beach that signal danger, his hazel eyes warned her away. They cautioned her that she’d said enough. They told her to resist grabbing his hand or hugging him or setting her fingertips on the side of his face.

She’d said earlier that her dad had cared deeply about the women in his life . . . for a time. Panic circled around and around her ribs because, unlike her father, she was not wired for temporary affection. She’d only cared deeply about one man in the past. And she’d remained faithful to that man for five years after his death.

And now . . .

Now she cared deeply about Luke. She had not succeeded at talking herself out of it. The hurt he’d caused her had not vanquished it. She had a steadfast heart and it wanted, against all that was sensible, to give itself over to Luke.

“I’ll walk you to the door,” he said.

“No need.” She’d lived alone for ages and would continue to do so when he left.

She treaded through moon shadows toward her cabin.

What about Derek?” Bridget asked the next night. The three friends occupied a table at the Green Eatery, where they’d met for a quick dinner after work. “Didn’t he invite you to go out with him after the Valentine’s Day party?”

Harmony, Meadow’s daughter, sat at the next table over. She was supposed to be doing homework and, indeed, had a book open and a pencil in her hand. But from what Finley could tell, she was spending most of her time watching YouTube on her phone.