Relax, Finley. Focus on the positive. Listen to your gut.

Right now, her gut was telling her to give Luke additional space to breathe and heal. After all, she wasn’t the only one who’d been dealt a blow the night Ken had pushed her off a cliff. Luke had been dealt a blow, too. Like her, it was taking time for him to recover. She needed to be as patient with him as he was with her.

But even as she decided to postpone a confrontation, her conscience whispered an indictment. You’re being a coward, it said.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Finley was hosting a party.

Her favorite time of year had arrived in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Spring breezes sent pastel wildflowers dancing. Birds sang from the trees. The sun fell gentle and clear. Her heart had been crying out for a tangible way to thank everyone who’d cared for her so well. Her backyard had been crying out for people and pets. A thank-you party seemed like the ideal solution.

She’d moved home two weeks ago. A few days after that, she’d resumed work—albeit shorter hours and less strenuous tasks. A few days after that, she’d floated her party idea to Luke, Meadow, and Bridget.

Meadow and Bridget had been in favor of it, but Luke had shot it down. Too taxing, he’d said.

She’d kept after it. She’d negotiated with him. She’d only invite a few people. Everyone would bring a dish. All she’d have to do was make tea, decorate, buy supplies, and choose which records to play.

Still, he’d resisted. At which time, she’d put her foot down and informed him that she was going to host the gathering with or without his approval. He’d grudgingly come on board.

The night of the party, she donned the new dress she’d purchased for the occasion. Its dusky blue fabric matched her eyes and set off her dark hair. She liked its off-the-shoulder neckline, full sleeves, and short hemline—which showed off legs that had turned tan during the hours she’d spent relaxing on her deck. She slipped on high-heeled wedge sandals moments before the doorbell started ringing.

Several guests had arrived when Luke walked over and murmured, “Hailey just called me. My family’s about to pull up, and she asked if you’d be willing to come outside. They have something to show you.”

“Of course.”

No sooner had they reached the front of the house than she heard the deep rumble of a motor. A Pontiac slid into view, then came to a stop, Blair at the wheel.

“Luke.” She reached over to grip his hand. “It’s a work of art.” Classy and gleaming.

“Thank you.”