“It turns out that Sarah and I are acquainted—but I only recently realized she was married to Conroy.” Sophie stared into the night, the wisps around her face moving slightly as the swing swayed. “Sarah didn’t share the details of your conversation, but I do know that your visit meant a great deal to her.”

Reese shook his head. “I couldn’t find the words … to tell her how great a man Conroy was. To tell her what he meant to me. I’m afraid all I managed to do was upset her.”

“No,” Sophie said quickly. “You comforted her more than you know. Besides, what you said wasn’t as important as what you did. You went to her and shared in her grief, and I know that couldn’t have been easy for you.”

Reese shrugged, embarrassed to admit just how much he’d been sweating, how hard his heart had pounded as he’d stood on the widow’s doorstep. “It was nothing compared to what Sarah’s suffered. What she’s still going through. I should have visited her weeks ago.”

“You went. That’s the important thing,” Sophie said, her tone brooking no argument. He’d forgotten how powerful and persuasive she could be. How fiercely she defended something she believed in. And for some inexplicable reason, she believed in him.

“Talking with Sarah also made me realize how lucky she and Conroy were. In this big, messy, unpredictable world, they were able to find each other. And they held tight to the very end. They had far too few years together, but maybe they had more than most of us ever will.”

Sophie gave him a watery smile. “I suppose that’s true. We all expect to live to a ripe old age, but there’s really no telling how long we have.”

“That’s why I need to tell you how I feel.”

She swallowed and gazed at him. “Go on.”

He cleared his throat, acutely aware that his happiness—his whole future—depended on him expressing what was in his heart. God, he hoped he didn’t bungle it. “I need to explain how I feel when I’m with you.”

Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “I’m listening.”

“Being with you … well, it’s a bit of paradise. Just like this garden.” He waved a hand at the lush beauty around them. “It’s the rush of a waterfall and the sturdiness of an oak. It’s wonder and breathlessness and a sense of peace. It’s the comfort of being rooted in the earth but also the thrill of gliding above it.” He raked a hand through his hair and muffled a curse. “Damn it all, I’m not making sense.”