“My psychologist played a key role. Also, I continued working because the animals needed me. I spent a lot of time with God. Instead of focusing on what I lost, I tried to cultivate gratitude for what I had.” She pulled the flaps of the robe across her chest. “Most people never get to experience what Chase and I shared. It was a once-in-a-lifetime love.” She sighed. “Since his death, I’ve heard God calling me to embrace singleness. And I have. My life is good. Full.”

“Let me get this straight.” He scowled. “You haven’t had a boyfriend since Chase?”

“No.”

“Have you gone on any dates since Chase?”

“No.”

“You’ve become a nun for the Church of Chase.”

“I’ve embraced singleness.”

“Because you’re a nun for the Church of Chase.”

“Because singleness is what God has for me.”

No. That’s not why she was avoiding relationships.

“How come,” she inquired pleasantly, “you’re looking at me like that’s the silliest thing you’ve ever heard?”

“Because it is. There’s no such thing as a once-in-a-lifetime love.”

“Of course there is—”

“And it’s a cop-out to blame God for the fact that you haven’t dated anyone.”

“I acknowledge that God’s call on my life might be hard for you to understand. But it’s my truth.”

“If you haven’t dated anyone, it has nothing to do with God. It’s because you’re scared.”

They locked eyes. Physical awareness hammered through him. He watched her pulse thrum in her neck.

“It’s my truth,” she repeated stubbornly.

Who did she think she was kidding? He was no stranger to grief.

After what had happened with Ethan, he’d never let himself love anyone. He couldn’t. Because if he lost another person he loved, he knew it would break him. The difference between him and her was that he was man enough to admit that.

Gracefully, she turned toward the barbecue and flipped the veggies.

Smoke rose past the lights strung back and forth above her deck. Past trees alive with breeze. Up beyond, to a pitch-black sky.

She tilted her profile to watch it disappear.

It had been an unusually warm January day, reaching all the way up to a temperature of sixty-five. It was cooler than that now. Goosebumps lined her forearms. “You’re cold,” he said.

“A little.”

“Where’s your coat? I’ll get it for you.”

She gave him directions to her coat closet, and he returned within seconds. He handed her a long pale denim coat with a huge sheepskin collar.

She slipped it on. It appeared two sizes too big. “Thank you.”

He could look at Finley for hours from every angle and still want to look at her longer.

Purposely, he averted his focus to the woods.