Healing the Widower's Heart
Susan Anne Mason
A Child's Only Hope When widower Nathan Porter brings his grieving son, Zach, to Wyndermere House's camp, he is desperate for a lifeline. Nathan's hoping the change of scenery to the woods of upstate New York will help mend his son's heart. But the counselor assigned to his son's care seems too young–and too pretty–to be qualified. Paige McFarlane's learned what loving someone–and losing them–costs. But soon her efforts with Zach reveal that to help the son she must also help the dad. As Nathan and Paige work together to mend the boy's broken spirit, they realize the walls around their own hearts could be crumbling, as well.When widower Nathan Porter brings his grieving son, Zach, to Wyndermere House's camp, he is desperate for a lifeline. Nathan's hoping the change of scenery to the woods of upstate New York will help mend his son's heart. But the counselor assigned to his son's care seems too young–and too pretty– to be qualified. Paige McFarlane's learned what loving someone–and losing them–costs. But soon her efforts with Zach reveal that to help the son she must also help the dad. As Nathan and Paige work together to mend the boy's broken spirit, they realize the walls around their own hearts could be crumbling, as well.
A Child’s Only Hope
When widower Nathan Porter brings his grieving son, Zach, to Wyndermere House’s camp, he is desperate for a lifeline. Nathan’s hoping the change of scenery to the woods of upstate New York will help mend his son’s heart. But the counselor assigned to his son’s care seems too young—and too pretty—to be qualified. Paige McFarlane’s learned what loving someone—and losing them—costs. But soon her efforts with Zach reveal that to help the son she must also help the dad. As Nathan and Paige work together to mend the boy’s broken spirit, they realize the walls around their own hearts could be crumbling, as well.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Porter.”
Irritation prickled the back of his neck. He turned on George, not even attempting to disguise his disapproval. “You expect me to believe this teenager is qualified to help my son?”
A splash of rosy color bled through her cheeks. George placed a large hand on her shoulder, whether to comfort her or warn her, Nathan wasn’t sure.
“Paige has almost finished her master’s degree in psychology, including courses in grief counseling. I wouldn’t recommend her if I wasn’t confident in her abilities.”
She lifted her chin and crossed her arms, as if prepared for battle. “I don’t have any formal experience, but I have worked with children for years. In addition, I have an undergraduate degree in child psychology. I’m willing to meet your son and at least do an initial assessment.”
Her direct gaze caused him to squirm. He wasn’t usually so rude. He wasn’t usually such a mess either. The nautical clock on George’s desk ticked out the seconds while Nathan fought an internal debate. He looked from one to the other and finally released a long breath. “I guess we’ve got nothing to lose.”
SUSAN ANNE MASON lives in a suburb near Toronto, Ontario, Canada, where she works part-time as a church secretary. She is married with two amazing kids, and is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) and Romance Writers of America (RWA). In addition to writing, she likes to scrapbook and to research her family history online. You can connect with her on Facebook or on her website: susanannemason.com (http://susanannemason.com).
Healing the Widower’s Heart
Susan Anne Mason
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.
—1 Corinthians 13:2
To my family, who put up with my long hours on the laptop, burned dinners and a mom who talks to herself!
Acknowledgments (#ulink_1e712662-9c32-54a6-973b-a939ccbc24be)
I want to thank my wonderful critique partners, Julie, CJ and Eileen, who helped make this a better story. I also want to send a huge hug of gratitude to the awesome ladies at the Seekerville blog for sponsoring a contest that eventually led to this contract! In particular, a big thank-you to Tina Radcliffe, who gave me a cyber “kick in the pants” to enter the contest, to Ruth Logan Herne, who offered to read the whole manuscript before I submitted it, and to Julie Lessman for being my prayer warrior. Thank you all for sharing your generous hearts and your gracious spirits!
And finally, I must acknowledge my fabulous editor, Elizabeth Mazer. Thank you for loving Paige and Nathan’s story! Your edits and suggestions helped make my book so much stronger. I am particularly grateful for all the compliments and happy faces you included in your edits. It did wonders for my writer’s heart! :-)
Contents
Cover (#u0bd5343e-1ea5-5357-bd6e-c5d20f1fc461)
Back Cover Text (#ubd88a58c-ea7c-5ec0-9ba4-bf1e7dc381b6)
Introduction (#u719a56b8-535b-5631-8b31-c48ba09c3bda)
About the Author (#udf1e0afe-e11d-54fc-84eb-13e4260aa306)
Title Page (#u8e8c448f-8135-558a-9a98-b03243e78a05)
Bible Verse (#u66936506-e1ed-5922-aa53-d996f4b5fb65)
Dedication (#u1e005532-02e0-544e-b684-c76277901ba5)
Acknowledgments (#ueb522c38-1309-53f8-b1c8-ba124740b233)
Chapter One (#ulink_279bc5aa-45cf-5aef-8572-2197029f36f2)
Chapter Two (#ulink_f4edb550-f569-5a9a-b79b-ff6edc05a037)
Chapter Three (#ulink_706eb7b2-539f-5d93-98a9-25a9fcd3e151)
Chapter Four (#ulink_a1492c80-d79c-54e2-ad51-26ad786b1dc4)
Chapter Five (#ulink_a0f73137-1c76-5548-ac7f-1f166c340874)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_99dede06-912b-5daf-9975-f09949584647)
Paige McFarlane paced the patterned carpet of the front office, her fingers clenched in the pockets of her khaki shorts. How could George put her in this position?
Seated behind his mahogany desk, the burly manager of Wyndermere House tapped a pen on his blotter. “A seven-year-old boy desperately needs your help, Paige. His father is a longtime customer, as well as a personal friend. You’d be doing us both a big favor, not to mention helping a child.”
Paige stopped to face her employer and friend, trying hard not to picture a devastated little boy grieving the loss of his mother. Trying hard not to allow memories of her own horrific loss creep back into her consciousness. “My heart goes out to him, George, but I have no practical experience in grief counseling. He deserves a qualified professional.”
George Reynolds’s bushy eyebrows snagged in the middle of his broad forehead. “They tried that already, but it didn’t work out.”
Perspiration dampened Paige’s palms as she fought the beginning of panic. “I’m not sure this would even be ethical since I haven’t earned my certification yet.” I’m not ready for this.
“Don’t worry. I’ll make it clear that you’d treat Zach more in the capacity of a camp counselor.”
Paige noted the pleading gleam in her boss’s brown eyes, and felt her resolve slipping. Why was she always such a sucker for someone needing help? She really should practice saying no more often. Psychology student, heal thyself.
“Zach is already enrolled in your Bible camp, so you’ll have lots of time together.” He fixed her with a pensive stare. “You could use some extra money for school, right?”
Paige winced. Understatement of the year—not to mention a low blow. George knew she was scraping together every last penny for her final year of her master’s degree.
“You know I could,” she said quietly.
George swiveled in his leather chair. “Why not look at this as an opportunity to make some cash on the side then?”
“I don’t know, George...” She twisted a loose strand of blond hair around her index finger, doubts wreaking havoc with her desire to help. Textbooks were all well and good, but could she honestly say she was ready to handle a troubled boy’s grief? What if she made a mistake and compounded the problem?
“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t confident you could help.”
Paige groaned and dropped back into the guest chair. George had been her boss since she’d started working at Wyndermere House in her teens, and he knew all too well how to use her weaknesses against her.
“Will you at least meet Nate and Zach and see how you feel? They arrive tomorrow morning, which will give you a couple of days before camp starts.”
He looked so hopeful Paige didn’t have the heart to say no. And the extra money wouldn’t hurt.
“Fine.” She threw up her hands in defeat. “I’ll meet them. But I can’t promise any more than that.”
His smile created wrinkles around his eyes. “Thanks, kiddo. I knew I could count on you.”
Good old Paige. Everyone could always count on her. She sighed a few minutes later as she pushed out the employees’ entrance onto the wraparound porch. What had she gotten herself into? This could be a huge disaster in the making.
She paused to lean against the stone wall, taking in the view of the velvet lawn sloping toward the lake, and allowed the beauty of God’s handiwork to steady her. The tension in her shoulder muscles eased a fraction.
Other than her hometown of Portsmouth, New Jersey, the Finger Lakes region of New York rated as close to perfection as Paige could imagine. She’d been coming here during the summer for as long as she could remember—first on vacation with her family, and later as an activity coordinator for children. She loved everything about Wyndermere House—the majesty of the sprawling stone inn, the breathtaking scenery surrounding it and most of all, the wonderful people who’d become like family.
George and Catherine Reynolds had turned this beautiful setting into a five-star resort, while using the rustic cabins farther back on the property as a summer camp for kids. Parents could leave their children under the counselors’ care and partake of the resort’s amenities, knowing their kids were having a blast at camp.
Paige reached into her pocket for her sunglasses, and her fingers brushed the envelope she’d hastily stuffed there before her meeting with George. Immediate tension cinched her spine as she recalled the message typed inside. “Second installment of tuition fees due.”
Paige unclenched her fingers and released the envelope. Maybe God was giving her a gentle nudge—an opportunity to increase her finances, as well as a way to ease into the type of work she wanted to do. Still, she couldn’t quite quell her anxiety. Would she be able to treat this boy without falling victim to the paralyzing emotions that had engulfed her after Colin’s death?
Was she brave enough to try?
* * *
Nathan Porter scowled over the massive desk at George and bit back the words that burned on his tongue. Despite his friend’s good intentions, George was meddling where he didn’t belong.
“Look, Nate, you can’t give up on counseling. From what you’ve told me, Zach’s behavior is getting worse.”
Nathan scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “We tried therapy and got nowhere. Zach hated every minute of it, and other than yelling obscenities at the therapist, refused to say a word. I came here for a break from all that.”
“So you’re going to do what? Hide from your problems all summer?”
Nathan clamped his mouth shut to rein in his anger. He wouldn’t take his ill humor out on one of his best friends. “After what I’ve been through, I think I deserve some time off.”
“That’s all well and good, but what happens in September?”
Nathan stalked over to the window, where he stared out at the large expanse of water with unseeing eyes. That simple question summed up his greatest fear. Five months after his wife’s sudden death, Zach was in serious emotional turmoil. Nothing Nathan did made any difference. In fact, his efforts seemed to make matters worse. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. If only the pain would go away—just for a little while—maybe Nathan could think clearly again.
A warm hand squeezed Nathan’s shoulder. “Are your in-laws still on your back?”
“They’re threatening to sue for custody if things haven’t improved by September.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Apparently they called the school and found out Zach had been suspended for fighting. And they know I’m still not working—which gives them two good excuses to claim I’m an unfit parent.”
George leaned a shoulder against the window frame. “Then why not see if Paige can get through to Zach? You’ll be no worse off.”
Nathan clenched his teeth, his idea for a peaceful respite slipping away as surely as his control over his life had. He closed his eyes for a moment, before turning to face his old friend. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to meet her.”
“Great. I knew you’d come around to my way of thinking.”
Nathan shot George a stern look. “I have one condition. I’d like to keep my profession out of this.”
George frowned. “I don’t see what—”
“Take it or leave it.” Nathan’s deep humiliation over his inability to work for the past ten months was not something he wished to discuss with anyone, especially a stranger.
George shook his head. “Fine. I’ll leave that part up to you.” He glanced at his watch. “Paige should be here any minute. I’m sure you’ll like her as much as everyone else does.”
As if on cue, a knock sounded. George strode over to swing the door open. “Come on in, kid. You’re right on time.”
Kid was right. Nathan frowned as a slim, blonde girl entered the room. Surely this couldn’t be the grief counselor. Dressed in beige shorts and a green polo shirt containing the Wyndermere logo, her hair looped back in a ponytail, she had the fresh-faced, makeup-free complexion of a high school student.
“Paige, this is my friend Nathan Porter. Nathan, our camp director, Paige McFarlane.”
The girl stepped forward, a sympathetic smile on her face, and held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Porter. I’m so sorry to hear about your recent loss.”
He took her hand, surprised by the softness of her fingers and the almost too personal squeeze she gave. Irritation prickled the back of his neck and he quickly released her hand. He turned on George, not even attempting to disguise his disapproval. “You expect me to believe this teenager is qualified to help my son?”
The girl stiffened, her arms clenched tight at her sides. “I’m hardly a teenager.” She glared at him with cool green eyes. Her frosty tone should have deterred him, but it didn’t.
“What kind of experience could you possibly have dealing with grief-stricken children? You look like you’re barely out of high school yourself.”
A splash of rosy color bled through her cheeks. George placed a large hand on her shoulder, whether to comfort her or warn her, Nathan wasn’t sure.
“Paige has almost finished her master’s degree in psychology, including courses in grief counseling. I wouldn’t recommend her if I wasn’t confident in her abilities.”
Master’s degree? A quick calculation put her age somewhere in her midtwenties—not so very far from him after all. Why wasn’t that thought more comforting?
She lifted her chin and crossed her arms, as if prepared for battle. “I don’t have any formal experience, but I have worked with children for years, both here and volunteering with various programs at home. In addition, I have an undergraduate degree in child psychology. I’m willing to meet your son and at least do an initial assessment. After that you can decide what is acceptable to you.”
Her direct gaze caused him to squirm in his suit jacket. He wasn’t usually so rude. He wasn’t usually such a mess either. The nautical clock on George’s desk ticked out the seconds while Nathan fought an internal debate. He looked from one to the other and finally released a long breath. “I guess we’ve got nothing to lose.”
“Excellent.” George clapped him on the back, relief softening the strain around his mouth.
Miss McFarlane looked around the room and raised a brow. “Where is your son? I’d like to meet him.”
“With Lou in the kitchen. I’ll go get him.” Nathan strode out the door at top speed. Around the first corner, he stopped and sagged against the wall, laboring for air.
This was supposed to be a relaxing retreat, a time to get his life back in order. But now—like everything else around him—the situation seemed to be spinning out of his control.
George had better know what he was doing. Zach’s well-being depended on it.
* * *
The moment Mr. Porter marched out of the room, Paige thrust her shaky hands in her pockets, blinking to get the man’s military-like posture and the grim set of his mouth out her mind. Far from seeming appreciative of her assistance, he had turned disapproving and cold the moment she’d entered the room.
Frowning, she trained a laser stare on George. “What’s with your friend? I thought he wanted my help.”
George held up his hands in mock surrender. “I know Nate’s a bit gruff. This tragedy has taken a toll on him, and he’s not himself right now. But Nate’s a good guy, trying to do what’s best for his son. Give him a chance. Please?”
Paige huffed out a sigh, remembering her own debilitating grief not that long ago. She certainly hadn’t been herself then, and she supposed she could give Mr. Porter the benefit of the doubt. For his son’s sake, if nothing else. “All right,” she grumbled. “I’ll do it—for you.”
“Thank you.” His smile deepened the craggy lines around his mouth and eyes.
“You’re welcome.” She hesitated, gathering the nerve to bring up a subject she loathed. “I hate to ask you this...but I need a favor in return.”
“Name it.” He picked up his coffee mug from the desk and took a quick swig.
She twisted her fingers together. “Could I get an advance on my pay? Enough to cover a partial tuition payment?”
George straightened, a frown pinching his brow. “Of course. Why didn’t you ask sooner? I could have had the money to you a week ago.”
She sighed. “I didn’t realize the next installment was due so soon. I thought I had until August.”
“I’ll have a check for you tomorrow.”
“Thanks, George.” A huge weight lifted from her shoulders. Now she’d have some breathing room until the end of the summer to pay the remainder of her fees. If she could work things out with Mr. Porter to pay her for counseling Zach, she might be able to squeak by without having to beg the bank for more loans. Paige crossed the room to perch on the edge of his desk, her mind returning to her next challenge. “So, tell me, how did you and Nathan Porter get to be friends? He’s closer to my age than yours.”
“I’m actually a friend of Nate’s father. Jim and Nancy used to bring him here for two weeks every summer. They became like family to me. That was before I met Catherine, and they took pity on a lonely bachelor.”
Paige snorted. “Yeah, right. I’ll bet you had ladies beating a path to the inn.”
“Well, now that you mention it.” His lips snagged up in a grin.
“So you hung out with the Porters in the summer. What else?” She sensed there was more to the story.
George shrugged. “Jim was an older father and not the outdoorsy type. So I took Nate boating and fishing and taught him to swim. We...bonded.”
The conversation stopped when the door opened. Nathan reappeared, tugging a child behind him. The boy stood scowling at George and Paige, his arms crossed over his striped T-shirt. His hair, a lighter version of his father’s, looked as if someone had just tousled it. Probably Lou. The jolly cook had a soft spot for kids, especially troublesome boys.
Paige’s focus shifted to Nathan Porter, this time paying more attention to his appearance. With black hair that waved over his forehead, sculpted cheekbones, a strong jaw and piercing blue eyes, Nathan Porter was one of the most handsome men Paige had ever met. A pity he wasn’t more pleasant. She pulled her gaze away and focused on the guy she was really here to see as Nathan gave the boy a nudge forward.
“Zachary, you remember Mr. Reynolds. And this is Miss McFarlane. She’s in charge of the camp you’ll be attending.”
Taking her cue, Paige crouched in front of the still-frowning boy and smiled. “Hi, Zach. You can call me Paige.”
Zach turned angry eyes on his father. “She’s a girl. How’s this camp going to be any fun if she’s in charge?”
Nathan’s dark eyebrows slammed together. “Zachary, apologize to Miss McFarlane right this minute.”
Zach planted his feet more firmly on the carpet. “I won’t.”
“If this is the way you’re going to behave, then—”
Paige rose and quickly laid her hand on the man’s arm. “Mr. Porter, could I talk to Zach alone for a moment?”
Both man and boy turned furious eyes on her, and Paige stifled a sigh. She’d have her work cut out for her, if she decided to take on this challenge. Instead of clinging to the remaining parent, as was most often the case, Zach oozed anger and defiance at his father. She had to admit the unusual dynamics of this father/son relationship piqued her professional curiosity.
“I don’t want to talk to her.” Zach’s eyes shot daggers at her while Nathan’s face turned a mottled shade of red.
Drastic action was needed to defuse the situation. “Do you like animals, Zach?”
Still frowning, he shrugged.
“I thought we could go down to the barn. We have four horses. And our cat, Misty, had kittens a few weeks ago. What do you say?”
A gleam of interest lit up his brown eyes for a moment, but the scowl returned, and he clamped his mouth shut.
Paige waited a beat, then shook her head. “That’s too bad. Guess I’ll just leave you here with your dad and find another camper who wants to help with the animals. It was nice to meet you, Mr. Porter.” She started toward the door, ignoring the looks of disbelief on George’s and Nathan Porter’s faces.
“Wait.” Zach’s voice rang with desperation.
Hand on the doorknob, her back to the boy, Paige’s lips twitched in victory. She sobered and turned to face him. “Yes, Zach?”
“I guess going to the barn is better than hanging around here.”
Paige looked to Nathan for confirmation. He only nodded, his expression hovering somewhere between frustration and bewilderment.
“Good. We’ll be back later then.”
Before father or son could change his mind, Paige ushered Zach out the door.
On the way to the stables, she offered silent prayers Heavenward for help with this angry boy and slowed her steps to accommodate Zach, who trudged along beside her as though she were taking him to the dentist for a filling. Hopefully the horses and kittens would provide the icebreaker she needed.
“So what’s your favorite animal?” she asked as they walked, dust kicking up from the dirt path.
“Dinosaurs.” He glared over at her, as if daring her to contradict his choice.
“Dinosaurs are cool. I bet you like the T. rex best.”
His eyes grew wide. “How did you know?”
“Most boys love them. I like the raptors.”
Zach’s eyes went even wider. “You know about raptors?”
“Sure. I’ve seen Jurassic Park, like, a hundred times.” She gave silent thanks for her brother’s obsession with dinosaurs years earlier.
“Me, too.”
“So what type of pet do you like best?”
“Dogs. But cats are okay, too.” He kicked at a stone on the path.
“George and Catherine have a golden retriever named Goliath. Maybe George will bring you over to see him.”
When they reached the stable, Paige grabbed the heavy wooden door that squeaked as it opened, and flipped on the overhead lights. The pungent odors of manure and hay assaulted their nostrils. Zach wrinkled his nose as he stepped inside.
“I’ll show you the horses first.” She led the way to a stall where a large brown head peered over the door. “This is Mabel. She’s our oldest mare.”
Zach hung back, scuffing the toe of his sneaker on the dirt floor. Most kids who’d never been around horses were nervous the first time they encountered one. She reached out to stroke Mabel’s nose, and the animal whinnied in greeting. “She’s very gentle. Would you like to pat her?”
The boy hesitated, eying the horse’s big head.
“I’ll show you how if you want.”
Zach looked up at her, brown eyes wide and uncertain. With the harshness of his scowl finally gone, Paige caught a glimpse of the vulnerable, lost child inside. Her heart squeezed with sympathy, knowing firsthand the pain and confusion that haunted him, and at that moment, she made her decision. Despite some lingering reservations, Paige resolved to do whatever she could, not only to help Zach get over the loss of his mother, but to heal his relationship with his father, as well. Zach needed to be able to depend on the only parent he had left.
Zach held out his hand. Paige took the warm fingers in hers, still sticky from Lou’s cookies, and reached up to place them on the mare’s nose. When he relaxed, she moved their hands up and down until he was stroking Mabel on his own.
“I think she likes you.” Paige’s comment earned a wavering smile from the boy. “Maybe next time we could bring her some treats. She loves apples and carrots.”
They continued down the corridor, greeting the gelding, Horatio, and two more mares, Sadie and Matilda. Zach’s confidence grew with each encounter.
“Will I get to ride one?”
“Probably. Jerry usually gives everyone a riding lesson.” She patted Matilda one more time and moved away from the stall.
“Who’s Jerry?”
“He helps me run the camp. Mainly he’s in charge of the sports and the outdoor activities.” Maybe if Zach knew there’d be a male involved with the camp—that it wasn’t just a bunch of girls—he’d be more excited.
“What kind of sports?”
“All kinds. Canoeing, swimming, volleyball, baseball. You name it, we play it.” She smiled down at him, grateful for the small spark of interest. She’d take any opening she could get. “Let’s go see if we can find Misty and her babies.”
* * *
Nathan tried to relax in one of the deck chairs on the big stone porch, but his mind was consumed with Zach and how he might be behaving—or misbehaving—with Paige McFarlane. Judging from his son’s initial reaction, Nathan doubted it was going well.
He stood and paced the deck, hands clasped behind his back. Never had he felt so frustrated, so helpless. Since Cynthia’s tragic death, Zach’s behavior had escalated in severity, and nothing Nathan said or did seemed to make a difference. It was a double blow to him since helping people was an integral part of who he was, both personally and professionally. As a pastor, he used to pride himself on his ability to shepherd his congregation through the worst times of their lives. But that all changed the moment his life fell apart, crumbling his faith.
Now he seemed incapable of helping anyone—least of all himself.
His thoughts turned to Paige McFarlane, and an uneasy emotion churned in his chest. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected—maybe someone with bifocals and a double chin. Certainly nothing had prepared him for her.
What kind of experience could she possibly have? Was he making a huge mistake entrusting his son’s emotional well-being to someone still in school?
Nathan sighed and looked at his watch. They’d been gone for almost an hour. Was that a good sign or bad? He started to say a prayer for his son, but anger rose up instead, and he pushed the thoughts away.
Praying was the last thing he could depend on. His wreck of a life proved that.
Chapter Two (#ulink_c06b6385-555e-5c18-86bb-4326c3c02790)
Paige smiled as she watched Zach cuddle the tiny ball of orange fluff close to his chest. After a few seconds, the pitiful mews stopped and the kitten curled up to sleep, soothed by Zach’s steady heartbeat. Seated beside him in the straw, Paige stroked Misty’s gray head, while three other wriggling bodies struggled to find a comfortable spot against their mother.
Paige glanced over at Zach, relieved to see the tense lines of his face had relaxed. “You like the orange one best?”
“Yeah. I’d name him Willy if he were mine.”
“Good name.” The slight upturn of his mouth in response sent a thrill of satisfaction through her. “Do you have any pets at home?”
The hard, angry look returned. “My dad won’t let me.”
Paige’s heart clutched, remembering how her old hound dog, Chester, had absorbed buckets of her tears after Colin died. The unconditional love of a pet might be the perfect remedy to help Zach through his grief. “That’s too bad. Do you or your dad have allergies?”
He shook his head. “Dad says pets are too much trouble.”
Paige held back a comment, knowing she was walking on thin ice. One wrong word and the delicate trust she’d established would collapse. “Well, while you’re here, Willy can be your pet. Would you like that?”
“Really?” The tentative smile reappeared.
“Sure. But he has to stay with his mother. He’s too young to leave her yet.”
“I’ll come and visit him here then.”
“Sounds like a plan.” She stood and brushed the straw off her shorts and shirt. “We’d better get back to the inn before your dad gets worried.”
The scowl returned. “He won’t be worried. He hates me.”
Paige could only stare as Zach placed the kitten down beside its siblings. “Why would you say your dad hates you?” She closed the barn door behind them and made sure the latch had caught.
Zach shrugged, his eyes trained on the ground as he walked. “He yells at me all the time. He’s always mad.”
Nathan Porter didn’t exactly exude a sunny disposition, but what could you expect from a man who’d just lost his wife? “Your dad’s not himself right now. Sometimes when adults seem angry, they’re really hiding how sad they are.” Her heart ached for Nathan and his son. She remembered all too well the feeling of being mired so deep in grief she thought she’d suffocate.
“My dad’s not sad. He’s glad my mom’s dead. Except now he’s stuck with me.”
Paige fought to keep her jaw from dropping. For a second time, Zach had stunned her into silence. She decided against saying anything else until she’d had a chance to talk to Nathan Porter. Something a lot deeper than grief was going on between father and son.
Something she needed to figure out before she went any further.
* * *
By two o’clock, Paige had tidied her office in anticipation of her appointment with Nathan. She’d made arrangements with George’s wife, Catherine, to look after Zach while they talked. After the last piece of paper had been filed, Paige stood back to survey the small room with a twinge of dismay. The surplus metal desk, file cabinet, ancient laptop and scarred wooden credenza didn’t exactly portray the professional impression she’d like. But then she’d never imagined entertaining patients here.
Still she’d done her best to cheer the place up with a couple of soft lamps, a few pieces of artwork and some pictures of her favorite moments at Wyndermere.
A sharp knock brought her back to the present. She wiped her damp palms on her shorts and exhaled. “Come in.”
Nathan Porter stepped inside, his larger-than-life presence making the room seem to shrink in size. He’d changed into a casual polo shirt, navy shorts and sneakers, which made him a little less intimidating than wearing a suit and tie. Still the air crackled with a subtle tension. Too bad his attitude hadn’t relaxed, as well.
“Mr. Porter. Thank you for coming. Please sit down.” She indicated the chair across from her desk. As he folded his tall frame onto the chair, she prayed for the right words to reach him.
“Look, Miss McFarlane,” he said curtly before she could begin, “I don’t want you to feel obligated to help my son. I’m sure George coerced you into doing this.”
A band of heat crept up her neck, but she lifted her chin, determined to keep a professional image. “George asked me to see what I could do for Zach, and I agreed to try.”
He let out a defeated breath that matched the tired lines around his eyes. “Are you aware that professional therapists have failed to get anywhere with him?”
Was that a subtle jab that she wasn’t a professional yet? She pushed back the doubts creeping in and forced a calm expression. “George mentioned it. Which is why I’d like to keep this very casual. I’ll incorporate Zach’s sessions with the everyday activities, so it’s more natural.”
Nathan nodded. “That might help.” He paused. “What about...compensation for your services?”
She cringed. Money was an uncomfortable topic for her. Especially when she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to get through to the boy. “Why don’t we leave that until I see if I can make any headway with Zach.” She gripped her hands together. “Which brings me to the reason I asked to see you. In order to help your son, I need to know exactly what I’m dealing with.”
She swore she could see the walls go up around Nathan, brick by brick. He shifted on the metal chair that groaned under his weight.
“Was Zach’s behavior out of line?”
“No. In fact, we got along pretty well, all things considered. But something he said made me wonder if I’m missing part of the picture.”
Nathan’s piercing eyes narrowed. “What did he say?”
She took a deep breath before continuing, hoping to untangle the knots in her stomach. “I’m sorry if this sounds cruel, but I’m only repeating what Zach told me. He said you hate him, you’re glad his mother died and you’re mad because you’re ‘stuck’ with him.” She ticked the list off on her fingers.
His mouth tightened into an even grimmer line as the color drained from his face. “You must know none of that is true.”
“Of course.” She kept an even tone. “What I need to know is why Zach believes it’s true.”
He threw out his hands. “How should I know what goes on in the mind of a seven-year-old?”
Paige fought to keep her manner sympathetic. “Mr. Porter, I understand you’re in a terrible position—trying to cope with your own loss, while helping your child deal with his overwhelming emotions.”
When there was no response, she picked up her pen and battled the urge to tap out her nerves and frustration on the legal pad. “Zach is most likely acting out quite a bit right now—creating scenes, having tantrums. Am I close?”
Nathan looked at her with unconcealed surprise. “Very.”
“This type of behavior would be difficult enough to deal with in an ordinary situation. But dealing with your own issues as well must make it almost impossible.”
“Yes.” The relief in his voice accentuated the release of tension in his broad shoulders.
She sensed he hadn’t shared this burden with anyone—that he’d been keeping his own grief bottled up. “May I ask how your wife died?” she asked gently.
He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, pain leaped from their blue depths. “A brain aneurysm—five months ago. Zach found her when he got home from school.”
“Oh, no. How awful.” The thought brought the sting of tears to her eyes. “No wonder he’s having such a hard time. Did he call you right away?”
Nathan looked away again. “He called his grandmother and she phoned for an ambulance. But it was too late. Cynthia had been dead for hours.”
“I’m so sorry. I know how hard it is to lose a loved one...unexpectedly.” She struggled with a lump in her throat as painful memories surfaced. The flashing lights of the police car spearing the rain-soaked night. The wail of the siren that matched her own wail of grief. She sucked in a deep breath and pushed the images away. She couldn’t afford to relive her own sorrow every time she treated a patient.
Nathan still wouldn’t quite meet her eyes. Once again, Paige sensed there was far more to the situation than he was telling her. She forged ahead to cover the awkward silence. “Right now, Zach is suffering from the classic anger associated with the grieving process. He’s also experiencing severe abandonment issues. Subconsciously, Zach is testing your limits to see if you, too, will abandon him.”
Nathan’s focus riveted back to her, as though she held the secrets of the universe. When she shifted under his intense stare, the wheel on her rickety chair creaked. “It’s important to keep reassuring him of your unconditional love and support. Make him understand that no matter what he does, you love him and will never leave him.”
A flush moved up his neck, while his gaze slid down to his clenched hands.
Suspicion flickered. “You have told Zach you love him, haven’t you, Mr. Porter?”
“I’m his father. He knows how I feel.”
She leaned forward over the desk to emphasize her point. “Everyone needs to hear the words—no matter how much you think it’s understood. Especially children.”
Visibly agitated, Nathan stood to pace the small enclosure. “It’s not easy to profess love to a child who constantly screams ‘I hate you.’”
Compassion welled within her, and inexplicably Paige found herself wanting to comfort this man, to ease his pain in some small way.
“Of course it isn’t easy,” she said. “But you, as the adult, have to rise above his outbursts. Sometimes a simple hug during a tantrum will defuse the situation. And right now Zach needs all the hugs he can get.”
Nathan stopped pacing, his back to her. His rigid stance and lack of response told Paige there was something much deeper blocking his relationship with his son.
She jotted down a few notes on her pad of paper before posing another difficult question. “I have to ask, Mr. Porter...were there problems in your marriage?”
His back muscles visibly stiffened before he turned to pin her with an icy glare. “That is a very personal question, Miss McFarlane. And quite presumptuous, I might add.”
Heat crept into her cheeks, but she didn’t allow her gaze to falter. “If you want to help Zach, you need to be honest about the state of your relationship, both before and after your wife’s death.”
Paige could almost feel the war of emotions surging underneath the surface as Nathan contemplated her words. Finally, his shoulders slumped, and his whole body seemed to deflate. “I will do whatever it takes to help my son.”
She offered him a smile of encouragement as he resumed his seat, and waited for him to speak.
He stared at the floor for several moments, then at last raised his head to look at her. “Cynthia and I separated six months before she died.”
Paige’s stomach dipped. Poor Zach. How much upheaval had he endured in his young life? “I see.” She schooled her expression, hoping her dismay didn’t show. “Was Zach living with his mother during this time?”
“Yes. She moved out and got an apartment.”
Odd. Usually the mother and child stayed in the family home. “How often did you get to see Zach during the separation?”
Again Nathan’s gaze slid away. “About once a month.”
Paige blinked. “Why so little?”
She thought she might be the recipient of another glare, but he only sighed. “Sometimes Cynthia would cancel our weekend plans at the last minute. Sometimes an emergency would come up at work, and I’d have to cancel. It was hard to keep our schedules straight.”
Paige’s heart went out to the poor child caught up in that type of ping-pong match. “I imagine Zach’s behavior was less than ideal during your allotted visits.”
One dark eyebrow rose. “That’s an understatement.”
“Which made you dread the time you spent with him instead of looking forward to it.”
“Pretty much.”
Now they were getting somewhere. “I’d like you to look at your separation from Zach’s point of view for a minute. His mother takes him away from his home, from everything familiar. Then every time his dad is supposed to come and see him, the plans fall apart. And when they do spend time together, his father seems like he can’t wait to leave. Zach comes to the conclusion that his father doesn’t want to see him and doesn’t care about him. A lot of anger and resentment builds up. Compound that with his mother’s sudden death, and quite frankly I’m surprised Zach’s not a lot worse off than he is.”
Nathan’s silence spoke volumes. She decided not to push for anything further at this point. “Thank you, Mr. Porter. I have a much better understanding of Zach’s emotional state now. I should be able to help him work through some issues. May I ask how long you’re planning to stay at Wyndermere?”
“I haven’t decided. A month—maybe more. But Zach will attend camp the whole summer.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose as if trying to ease a headache. “There’s something else you should probably know. Zach’s behavior at school got him suspended twice. And Zach’s maternal grandparents have threatened to sue for custody if his behavior hasn’t improved by September. I don’t think they’ll do anything over the summer, but just in case, I wanted you to be aware.”
Paige paused to digest this information. “Good to know. I’ll do my best to help Zach and will keep you informed on his progress.” She rose and offered her hand, praying he couldn’t tell that she felt as off-kilter as a new colt.
In one fluid motion, he stood and engulfed her palm in his. A tremor raced up her arm as his intense gaze held hers. The stark sorrow in their depths stalled the air in her lungs.
“I’ll be grateful for any improvement you can bring about, Miss McFarlane.”
With a slight nod, he released her hand and quietly left the room.
Paige slumped into her chair and let the air whoosh out of her lungs as she lifted a silent plea Heavenward. Without divine assistance, she feared she would never be able to heal the broken spirits of either Zach or his father.
* * *
The fresh air came as a relief after the confinement of Paige McFarlane’s office. Nathan’s long strides ate up the path as he headed toward the lake, consumed with the need for physical activity to release his pent-up emotions.
As he followed the lakeside, his brisk walk changed to a jog. He focused on the air rushing in and out of his lungs, and the sting of his leg muscles, allowing the sensations to block out all the negative emotions that had started to surface during his talk with that woman. He needed the exertion to push them firmly back where they belonged.
Winded, he stopped to lean against a tree and stared out over the water. The serenity of the scene did nothing to ease his anxiety. His mind was in chaos, his emotions churning. Talking about his marital difficulties had brought all the guilt and anger rushing back to the surface—a toxic mixture that had all but crippled his life in New York and rendered him incapable of continuing his ministry. His parishioners deserved someone who demonstrated a shining example of faith and courage, not a man paralyzed with hatred and bitterness.
Nathan continued on the path by the water, this time walking. Deep-breathing exercises allowed him to corral his unwanted feelings back into the appropriate compartment. It was ironic, really. His friends and family had all tried to get him to see a counselor, but he’d refused. The thought of baring his soul to a stranger, even another clergy member, made him physically ill.
Now, while trying to help his son, Paige McFarlane had started poking into the most private areas of his life. Areas he wanted to keep buried. Somehow he had a feeling she would not allow that to happen.
He sighed, and reluctantly headed down the beach in the direction of George and Catherine’s house to pick up his son, his mind still consumed by one unavoidable question.
How was he ever going to help Zach when he was powerless to help himself?
* * *
Paige entered the employee cafeteria on the lower level of the inn, grateful for a distraction from her thoughts of Nathan and Zach’s problems. She found Jerry already seated at their usual table, two trays in front of him. With his sandy brown hair and freckles, Jerry Walton appeared a lot younger than his twenty-five years. He hadn’t changed a bit since they’d started running the children’s camp at Wyndermere four years earlier.
“You’re late. I got you a burger. Hope that’s okay.”
“Perfect. I’m starving.” She threw her files on the table and plopped onto a chair.
Jerry wiped a drip of mustard from his mouth. “Any word from Sandy? I thought she’d be here by now.”
Paige scanned the bustling room as if Sandy Bennett, the third member of their team, would materialize. “Not yet. I know she expected to arrive late, but I thought she’d be here by now.”
Jerry shrugged. “No use wasting time. Let’s go over the schedule again.”
Paige chewed a large bite of her burger and opened her folder. Everything was falling into place for the camp, at least on paper. Dealing with the reality of the children would be a whole different dynamic.
“How’d your meeting go with Zach’s father?”
Paige shrugged. “Not bad. I learned some background information that will be helpful.” She set her burger down with a sigh. “I’m still not sure I’m doing the right thing, Jer. I might be in way over my head.”
He raised a brow. “What’s the worst that could happen? If you get nowhere with the kid, his father will have to take him somewhere else. In the meantime, he’s going to have a great time here.”
Despite her uneasiness, Paige couldn’t help but smile. “I guess you’re right. Being at Wyndermere always made me feel better, no matter what was going on in my life.” Even when her own grief had weighed her down.
“Okay, it’s settled. Now, can we get to work here? We’ve got a ton to do before the kids arrive tomorrow.”
“Got the plan of attack all worked out?”
Paige looked up at the familiar voice and broke into a wide smile. “Sandy. You made it.” She jumped up to embrace the petite brunette. “When did you get in?”
“About an hour ago.” Sandy gave Jerry a quick hug and dropped into a chair at their table. “Sorry it’s so last-minute. Being maid of honor for my sister was exhausting.” Her easy grin and cheerful demeanor brightened the room. “It’s good to see you guys.”
“Same here.” Paige resumed her seat, already feeling steadier now that her friend had arrived. “You look great. I like the new do.”
Sandy swung her head so that her layered brown hair moved with the breeze. The shorter feathered cut suited her big blue eyes and pixie face.
“A makeover for the wedding.”
“If you guys are going to trade beauty secrets, I’m out of here,” Jerry grumbled.
“Relax.” Sandy patted his cheek. “We’ll catch up on the girl talk later. Right now I need a crash course on tomorrow’s schedule.”
While Jerry filled Sandy in on the details, Paige went to get another round of iced tea. Thankfully, the cafeteria crowd had thinned out, which meant a quieter noise level for their meeting. She was on her way back with a tray of drinks when a tall figure blocked her path.
“Hey, gorgeous. Let me get that for you.”
Brandon Marshall, one of the students from last summer who did maintenance around the grounds, took the tray out of her hands and grinned down at her. His longish brown hair skimmed bold eyes that raked over her.
Paige swallowed her dismay. She’d hoped Brandon wouldn’t be back this year. His arrogance had always rubbed her the wrong way. “Hello, Brandon. How are you?”
If he noticed her less than enthusiastic greeting, he ignored it. “Fantastic, now that I’ve seen you.”
He flashed a rakish smile, which only annoyed her further. She’d spent most of last summer fending off his attention, and it looked as if things would be no different this year. Reluctantly, she led him to her table, where he set the drinks down with a flourish.
She nodded at her friends. “You remember Jerry and Sandy?”
“Yeah, sure.” He barely glanced in their direction.
Not wanting to appear rude, she asked if Brandon would like to join them.
“No, thanks. I’ve got somewhere to be. But I’ll be seeing you around.” He winked at her as he backed out of the room.
Paige dropped into her chair with a grimace.
Sandy crossed her arms. “Looks like Romeo’s on the prowl again. You’re going to have to say something if you don’t want a repeat of last summer.”
Paige groaned. “I tried to get rid of him last year, but he wouldn’t take the hint.”
“Then you’ll have to be more forceful, so he gets the message loud and clear.”
Jerry reached for his glass. “Aw, Brandon’s harmless.”
Sandy shot him a disgusted look. “You men always stick together, don’t you?” She stabbed her pen in the air. “Seriously, Paige, be careful. Something about Brandon gives me bad vibes.”
As they settled back to work, Paige hoped Sandy’s instincts were wrong. With everything else on her plate—initiating the new camp program, helping Zach Porter, struggling to figure out how she’d make ends meet for her last year of grad school—she didn’t need the added aggravation of fending off unwanted male attention.
Especially since her plans for the future did not include romance. She’d learned the hard way what loving someone—and losing them—could cost, and she’d vowed to never let that happen again.
Chapter Three (#ulink_df934624-27e2-5125-a01a-2713dc477ec6)
“Have you ever been in a canoe before, Zach?”
Kneeling on the dock, Paige adjusted the belt on the boy’s life jacket. With a few hours left of daylight, Paige had opted to have a little one-on-one time with Zach before the hectic first day of camp the next morning. Nathan had seemed relieved at her offer to spend time with Zach and had politely declined her invitation to join them.
The fact that Zach had agreed to come with her only after she’d bribed him with ice cream did not bode well for their talk. Paige hoped that being out on the water for an impromptu canoe lesson would work in her favor, as opposed to keeping Zach cooped up in her dungeon of an office. Paige sighed, wondering again how she’d gotten roped into this crazy situation.
“I went canoeing once with my cousins on a camping trip.” Zach kicked at a stone on the dock.
Paige rose and offered a smile of encouragement. “Good. Then you know how easy it is to tip a canoe and how careful you have to be to balance the boat.”
“I guess.” Zach tugged on the zipper of his jacket. “Do I have to wear this thing? I can swim, you know.”
“Everyone has to wear a life jacket no matter how well they can swim. It’s a Wyndermere rule.” Paige held the side of the canoe and motioned for Zach to board. “Nice and slow and stay low toward the bottom of the boat.”
Zach stepped inside, wobbled for a second before regaining his balance and then scrambled to one of the seats.
Paige steadied the craft and got in herself, opting to kneel on one of the floatation cushions. Using one of the paddles, she pushed away from the dock. The boat glided out into the lake. “I’ll get us out a bit farther before I show you how to row.”
Zach nodded. He peered out over the smooth water and pointed. “Can we go all the way to that island?”
“Not tonight. That’s pretty far out.”
Zach scowled at her. “It doesn’t look that far.”
Paige mentally counted to ten. Zach seemed prepared to challenge her every statement. “Let’s take it one step at a time.” She began paddling in a rhythmic pattern and headed toward the open water. A light breeze teased the ends of her hair, cool enough to make her glad she’d worn a sweatshirt.
“When are the other camp kids getting here?” The brim of Zach’s cap almost hid his eyes, but Paige had no trouble telling that they were hard and closed-off. She had a feeling he was less interested in meeting new people and more interested in her being too distracted by the others to bother him.
“Some arrived today. A few will come tomorrow morning in time to register.” She paused for a moment to adjust the brim of her Wyndermere cap to block the sun. Even her sunglasses couldn’t reflect the glare off the water. “Are you looking forward to moving into the cabins?” Zach had been staying in Nathan’s suite at the inn, but would be joining the rest of the campers tomorrow at the two cabins near the woods.
“Yeah. As long as the kids aren’t lame.”
Paige hoped the scowl lines weren’t permanently grooved into the boy’s face. “No one is lame, Zach. And I’ll tell you right now that everyone is expected to get along. You may not like every boy or girl you meet, but you will treat them with politeness and respect. And they will treat you the same way.”
Zach pressed his mouth into a thin line and shrugged. “Whatever.”
Paige bit back a rebuke and decided to change focus. “You ready to try paddling?”
He nodded and she handed him a paddle. She positioned his hands on the tool and gave him some basic pointers on how to use the blade. Soon he had mastered the technique and was moving the canoe forward.
“You’re doing great,” she told him. “Next time I’ll teach you how to steer.”
They floated along in silence for several minutes until Paige figured they’d better start heading back. “I’ll turn us around. The sun will almost be down by the time we get back.”
“All right. I guess it is too far to get to the island.”
She smiled. “It’s a lot farther than it looks.” Expertly she guided the canoe around. “So where do you live, Zach?” Paige opted to begin the counseling by asking a few harmless questions to get Zach used to talking with her.
“In New York.”
“Do you like your school?”
“It’s okay.” He turned his face slightly and stared over her shoulder.
“What do you do for fun? Play any sports?”
His shoulders relaxed a fraction. “In the summer, I play baseball and soccer. Except this year I won’t because I’m here.”
Sheesh. Every question was like entering a minefield. “Don’t worry. We’ll be playing a lot of sports, too.”
He shrugged and kept staring at the horizon. Farther out, a speedboat flew by, creating a ripple of waves.
“While you’re here, you and I are going to spend some time talking.” If she were lucky, Zach wouldn’t dive overboard.
The paddle splashed the surface of the water, sending a spray of moisture over them. “Talking about what?”
She exhaled slowly. “About your mom and your relationship with your dad. I noticed you don’t seem to be getting along too well.”
Zach fumbled and nearly dropped the paddle over the side. Paige reached out to steady it.
The boy’s eyes glinted with anger. “I don’t want to talk about that stuff.”
Paige dipped her paddle into the water, grateful the Wyndermere dock was now in sight. “I understand it’s difficult. We’ll take it really slow, a little at a time, until you feel more comfortable.”
With a grunt, Zach lurched to his feet and heaved his paddle out into the lake. The canoe shuddered with the sudden movement, and before Paige could counter the momentum, the boat flipped, sending her tumbling into the water.
* * *
What was Zach doing standing in the canoe? From his position at the end of the dock, Nathan watched in horror as Zach teetered, waving his arms in a futile attempt to regain his balance, and then plunged into the water with a large splash. The boat quickly followed suit, upending Paige and the equipment into the lake.
Nathan checked the strong urge to dive into the water and rescue them, realizing that this was part of the woman’s job. Surely it wasn’t the first time a camper had capsized a canoe.
In seconds, her dripping head broke the surface. Nathan was gratified to see that she swam directly to Zach and made sure he was all right, before righting the canoe and salvaging the paddles and a flotation device. She helped Zach back into the craft and then swam beside it, effectively towing them until her feet reached the bottom and she could stand.
From the angry scowl on Zach’s face, Nathan surmised the outing had not gone well. Paige headed to the beach. Nathan made his way down from the dock to help her drag the canoe onto the sand. She pushed wet strands of hair off her forehead, avoiding his eyes.
“What happened out there?” Nathan asked, lending Zach a hand to climb out. His son’s clothes were drenched and his cap was missing.
“Nothing.” Zach pushed away from him as soon as his feet hit the sand, and he trudged up the beach, leaving wet footprints in his wake.
“Not nothing.” Paige’s head snapped up and she took off after Zach. “Wait a minute, Zach.”
He kept going. Nathan followed, a feeling of dread dogging his footsteps.
Paige ran in front of Zach and put a hand on his shoulder, her mouth turned down. “That was a very foolish thing to do. You could have been badly hurt if that canoe had landed on you.”
Zach wrenched his arm away, glaring.
Nathan held back a groan of frustration. Camp hadn’t even begun and already Zach had alienated the director. “What did Zach do?”
Paige straightened and looked at Nathan. “He stood up and caused the boat to tip. A common mistake made by first-time canoers.” She turned her gaze back to Zach, who shivered in the cool evening breeze. “I just want to make sure he understands the dangers involved, so he won’t do it again.”
Zach lowered his head. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
Paige’s posture relaxed. “That’s okay. You’d better go get changed. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow for the start of camp.”
Zach nodded, and for the first time looked at his father. Nathan held back the reprimand on his tongue. He’d save that for later. “Go on up to the room and start the shower. I’ll be right there.”
Without another word, Zach turned and headed toward the inn.
Nathan followed Paige back to the canoe and helped her dump out the water. They left it upside down on the beach to dry.
She folded her arms across her chest, a worried expression darkening her eyes. “I’m afraid we didn’t get off to a great start.”
His instincts had been right then. “What really happened?”
She bit her bottom lip. “When I told Zach that I would be talking to him about his mother, he got upset.”
“And?”
“He jumped up and threw one of the paddles out into the lake.” She sounded apologetic as if she was the one who had done something wrong. “Maybe I brought it up too abruptly.”
She shivered, and he realized she must be freezing. The sun had dipped below the horizon of the lake and even in dry clothes, he was aware of a cool breeze off the water. “You should go get changed yourself.”
She nodded. “Hopefully things will go better tomorrow.”
He gave her one last look and shook his head. “From past experience, I wouldn’t count on it. Good night, Miss McFarlane.”
She let out a soft sigh. “Good night, Mr. Porter.”
* * *
Monday morning, Paige bit down on her pen as she double-checked the list of names on her clipboard. All the campers except one had arrived. She glanced at her watch. Nine fifteen. She’d waited long enough. Time to start the orientation.
As was the tradition every first morning of camp, Paige put on a little welcome for the children and their families. It was a good way to help everyone feel more comfortable. Once the kids got to meet each other, the parents could say their goodbyes and discreetly leave.
Paige raised her head to scan the group of people socializing on the stone patio. It was the perfect weather to hold the event outdoors today. Lou had provided a light buffet-style breakfast with fresh orange juice, fruit and an assortment of pastries. Some of the kids had already paired up. The girls especially stood grouped together, comparing backpacks. Jerry demonstrated some volleyball moves to the boys, while the parents mingled by the coffee bar.
All except Nathan Porter, who stood alone by the far wall, sunglasses hiding his eyes. From the grim set of his mouth, he didn’t seem at all happy to be here. If Paige hadn’t emphasized the necessity for all parents to participate, she had little doubt he would have remained in his room—alone. At least Zach was mixing with the other boys. Paige prayed he’d make friends easily. That would play a huge role in whether or not he would enjoy the camp experience.
A boy and a woman came into sight, walking hesitantly across the patio toward the crowd.
Ah, the missing camper. Paige strode toward them. The dark-haired woman placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder as Paige approached.
“Hello. This must be Peter.” Paige smiled at the boy.
His blue eyes, framed by black-rimmed glasses, regarded her with a serious gaze.
“Yes,” the woman answered. “I’m Anna O’Brien, Peter’s mom. Sorry we’re late. I got lost on those side roads.” An air of sadness hugged the woman’s features.
“I’m Paige McFarlane, the camp director. Please come and join the rest of us. We have refreshments and coffee on the far table, and we’ll begin the orientation tour in about ten minutes.” Paige wanted to give the newcomers time to meet the others before they started. She ushered the pair over to the group, guiding Peter toward the other boys.
“Hey, guys. This is Peter. Peter, these are some of the other campers. There’s Justin, Bobby, Steven, Kyle and Zach.”
“Hi.” Kyle came forward to greet Peter. He glanced at Peter’s mom hovering behind Paige.
Definitely one of the overprotective types, Paige decided.
“How come your dad didn’t come?” Kyle asked. “Both my parents are here.”
Peter shifted from one sneaker to the other. From the corner of her eye, Paige saw Anna stiffen.
“My dad’s dead.” Peter shrugged. “He died in Iraq.”
Paige gripped her clipboard tighter. Another child who’d lost a parent. Was she destined to open Wyndermere’s Center for Grieving Children?
Kyle scratched his elbow. “Oh, sorry. I thought maybe your parents were divorced like Bobby’s.”
Anna stepped up beside Paige. “I was going to tell you privately,” she said in a quiet voice. “It happened almost a year ago, but Peter can still be withdrawn sometimes.”
Paige gave her arm a sympathetic squeeze. “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll take extra care with him.”
The woman’s eyes moistened. “Thank you.”
At the same time, Paige noticed Zach moving closer, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his shorts.
“My mom’s dead, too.”
Paige held her breath as Zach looked right at Peter. The whole group seemed to stop talking as if awaiting the boy’s reaction.
Peter pushed his glasses up higher on his nose. “Guess we’re both half orphans.”
“Guess so.” Zach pointed to the table of food. “Wanna go get something to eat? The muffins are awesome.”
“Sure.”
As the boys moved off, Paige let out the breath she’d been holding. Lord, You sure answer prayers in unique ways sometimes. Thank You for bringing Peter here for Zach. I think he’s just the friend Zach needs.
Chapter Four (#ulink_94f81f15-7589-5b22-8ba0-cd7e0527a27c)
“Who can tell me the main point in the story of the prodigal son?” Paige smiled at the twelve eager faces in the meeting room they used as a classroom during camp every summer.
Three days in, and apart from a few minor glitches, the program had been running smoothly. The kids were bright, eager and, for the most part, well behaved. Even Zach had settled in to camp life without incident, due in large part, Page felt, to his budding friendship with Peter. The two had been inseparable since the first morning.
Her gaze settled on Zach and her stomach nose-dived. Make that eleven eager faces and one scowling one. She turned her attention to the four hands waving wildly in the air. “Yes, Felicia?”
The girl’s beaming smile revealed several missing teeth. “If you do bad things but you’re sorry, your parents will forgive you.”
“Very good. Forgiveness is the moral of our story. Like the father in the parable, our Heavenly Father forgives all our sins if we are truly sorry. He’ll always be waiting for us if we decide to come back to Him.” She looked at the clock. “That’s all the time we have for now. I want you all to think about which Bible story you’d like to study on Friday, and we’ll vote on it tomorrow. Now everyone down to the lake.”
A flurry of activity ensued as the group rushed to follow Sandy, eager for their canoe lesson with Jerry. Zach, however, remained in his seat, glaring at the tabletop. Peter hovered in the doorway as though unsure what to do.
“You go on with the others, Peter. Zach will be out in a minute.”
Peter nodded and dashed off to catch up with the campers, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.
Paige turned to study Zach’s profile, and huffed out a small sigh. She hadn’t made any progress with him over the past few days. Other than those few words he’d said to Peter, Zach remained closemouthed about anything to do with his mother. Maybe if Paige pried into whatever had caused his present bad mood, she’d get him to open up.
With casual strokes, she erased the whiteboard. “Didn’t you like today’s story, Zach?” She darted a glance over her shoulder.
“No.” He shredded a strip off the handout she’d given everyone.
She set the eraser down. “May I ask why?”
“Because it’s all a big, fat lie.”
Paige allowed herself no reaction to Zach’s outburst. “Which part exactly is a lie?”
Deep ridges formed between his brows. “The part about fathers always forgiving stuff. You shouldn’t tell everyone they do.”
He turned furious eyes on her, glittering with unshed tears. Sympathy welled in her chest, and the frustration from the past few days melted away. She longed to take him in her arms and promise him everything would be all right. But that would be totally unprofessional and totally unacceptable.
First rule of therapy—no touching the patient.
She took a few steps closer and crouched beside his chair. “What won’t your father forgive?” she asked softly.
Zach shrugged and rubbed a hand across his face. “Not what—who. He wouldn’t forgive my mom.” He waited a minute before continuing. “She took me away, and my dad was real mad about that. But later Mom wanted us to go home again.” His face crumpled, like the paper under his fingers. “She cried and said she was sorry, just like the prodigal son. But Dad didn’t care. He said we couldn’t come home. He hates us.” His voice broke on a stifled sob.
His tears overflowed and dripped down his cheeks. Zach looked away in obvious distress, and Paige just couldn’t ignore his suffering. Throwing the rules out the window, she pulled him to her and pressed his head to her shoulder. “It’s okay to cry, Zach,” she whispered.
She expected him to argue, even pull away. Instead he clutched at her, sobs racking his slim body while hot tears drenched her shirt. Her heart broke for this child and the soul-wrenching grief that consumed him. She stroked his tousled hair until he finally quieted. Paige found her own eyes moist when he drew away from her and wiped his face on his sleeve.
“You won’t tell my dad about this, will you?”
“About what?” She frowned, then recognized the embarrassment on his face. “You mean, that you were crying?”
He nodded, not looking at her. “My dad never cries.”
“I’m sure he does in private. Most dads don’t like to cry in front of anyone.”
Zach shook his head. “He says men don’t cry.”
Annoyance prickled at that kind of archaic, macho belief. “Crying is nothing to be ashamed of, honey. It helps your heart heal.”
“I guess.” But he didn’t sound convinced.
With gentle fingers, she pushed an unruly curl off his forehead. “Anytime you feel sad or like crying, you can come to me. I’ll be your safe place where you can say or do whatever you want. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Her heart tumbled when he raised vulnerable eyes to hers and swiped a hand across his nose. She pulled a tissue from her pocket and handed it to him. “You ready to join the others for another canoe lesson?”
When he nodded, she held out her hand. “Come on, I’ll walk you down.”
With his trusting hand in hers, they made their way to the lake. Paige lifted a prayer as she walked.
Lord, please use me to be Zach’s place of refuge. Let him feel safe with me and allow me to ease his pain. And while You’re at it, I could use some help getting through to his father.
Secretly, Paige thought that breaking down Nathan’s walls might prove to be the tougher job all around.
* * *
Nathan’s footsteps echoed down the hallway outside the auditorium, where, according to the posted schedule, the children should be practicing songs for a play. He’d slip in and watch the end of the rehearsal until he could speak with Miss McFarlane.
With some effort, Nathan pushed back his resentment at another summons from the persistent woman. He hadn’t really spoken to her—other than a brief hello at the opening of camp—since the canoe-tipping incident, and he suspected Zach had done something else to incur her discipline. He only hoped it wasn’t serious enough for Miss McFarlane to banish Zach from the camp altogether. Though he had to admit, despite the tension between them, he missed Zach’s presence in the suite they’d shared for a few days before camp started. Nathan sighed. At least, from what Nathan was able to observe, Zach seemed to be enjoying the camaraderie with other boys his age.
Nathan paused at the door to the auditorium and tugged at the collar of his polo shirt. For reasons he couldn’t name, Paige McFarlane unsettled him, challenged him, made him feel like an incompetent parent. Then again, maybe it was his own insecurity talking.
In any case, he needed to put his personal feelings aside and allow her to do her job—because he couldn’t deny that whether or not she’d gotten Zach to open up about his mother’s death, she’d already brought about changes in his son that Nathan could not. He’d witnessed Zach interacting with the other kids, watched him laughing and playing like a normal seven-year-old. That alone was worth putting up with Miss McFarlane’s superior attitude.
He placed a hand on the door handle, cracked it open an inch, then stopped to listen. A voice as pure and sweet as liquid honey floated on the air toward him. Who was that singing? Surely not one of the children. Nathan nudged the door open and slid inside. His insides quivered, resonating with the deep tone of the piano. He hadn’t listened to any music since Cynthia’s funeral. Music evoked too many powerful emotions—emotions he’d fought long and hard to repress.
He paused now, however, to let the beauty of the song roll over him, squinting to see whom the exquisite voice belonged to. Rendered immobile, he could only stare.
The person singing was none other than Paige McFarlane.
He stood riveted in place while her voice, as soothing as a balm, reached some secret place inside him and touched his very soul. The song ended on a poignant note, at which time the children burst into loud applause.
Nathan blinked in an effort to break the spell that had befallen him. The soft stage lights danced over Paige’s pale hair, creating a quivering aura around her. Her green eyes glowed with emotion, giving her smile a euphoric quality, and for a moment, he wondered if she were real or an illusion.
A petite brunette rounded up the kids and herded them through the door. Paige hopped down from the stage and stopped to speak to the other camp counselor—Jerry, he thought his name was—at the piano. She glanced up, and did a double take when she saw Nathan. She said something to Jerry, then started across the auditorium toward him.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Nathan moved to meet her halfway. “I got your message. You wanted to see me?”
She clutched a book of music in front of her. “Thanks for coming. I didn’t expect you so soon.” She glanced back at Jerry, who waved on his way out. “I need to speak to you again about Zach.”
Tension banded across his shoulders as memories of being summoned to the principal’s office of Zach’s school flew to mind. He took a deep breath. “Could we maybe talk over a cup of coffee?”
Her mouth opened and shut. She looked down at her watch. “I guess I could spare a few minutes. How about the café upstairs?”
He nodded and followed her into the corridor. An awkward silence descended as they made their way to the outdoor terrace, one of Nathan’s favorite spots. Small iron tables canopied by striped umbrellas overlooked the water below, scented by baskets of hanging geraniums. Other than one other couple, the area was empty at this time of day.
Nathan pulled out a seat for Paige at a table by the low stone wall. Her long hair was loose today and flowed over her shoulders.
After they’d ordered two coffees, he leaned back against the metal chair. “That song you were singing, is it from The Sound of Music?”
She looked up, surprise registering in her clear eyes. “Yes, it is. We’re practicing a shortened version of the play to put on for the parents.”
“You have a beautiful voice.”
Paige looked down and moved her book to one side, a blush staining her cheeks. “Thank you.”
Maybe he was stalling, to keep her from telling him something unpleasant about Zach. Or maybe he wanted to relate to her on a more personal level, instead of as a therapist. Whatever the reason, he wanted to know more about this woman. “Where did you learn to sing like that?”
The waiter arrived and set down their cups with a brief nod to Paige. She picked up a packet of sugar. “Both my parents have musical backgrounds. My father teaches music at the high school in my hometown, and we were all involved in the church choir.” She stirred her coffee, the spoon clinking against the ceramic mug. “Speaking of voices, Zach sings well for his age. Does musical talent run in your family, too?”
Nathan paused to consider her unexpected question. Other than hymns, he hadn’t thought about singing in years. “I used to sing in high school and did a little college theater. In fact, I played the captain in The Sound of Music my senior year.”
“How ironic we picked that particular piece.” Her lips quirked as if she was trying not to laugh.
He had to stop looking at her mouth. He took a long sip of his coffee, enjoying the strong burst of flavor, then set down his cup. “Miss McFarlane—”
“Please, call me Paige.”
“Paige then. What did you want to see me about?”
The amusement left her eyes, replaced with regret. “We had another...incident earlier. Zach got upset over a Bible lesson on forgiveness.”
Nathan frowned. “Why would that upset him?”
A trace of a sigh escaped her lips. “He said you wouldn’t forgive his mother and let her come home.”
The coffee soured in his stomach. He hadn’t realized Zach knew anything about Cynthia’s request to move back home. Or that he’d refused her. That might explain some of Zach’s anger toward him.
He met her curious gaze. “He’s right. Cynthia did want to come back...but I couldn’t let her. I couldn’t take her back on a whim.”
Paige bit her bottom lip, questions brimming in her eyes.
“You’re wondering why she left me.”
She shrugged. “You don’t have to tell me. I’m sure it’s very personal.”
“It is. But it may help with Zach.” He swirled the brown liquid in his mug, choosing his next words with care. “Cynthia got tired of coming second to my career. She couldn’t take my long hours and the constant demands on my time.”
“Sounds like a stressful job. What do you do?”
A nerve twitched in his jaw as a vision of Saint Stephen’s church rushed to mind. He was nowhere near ready to talk about his professional failure. Much too personal, much too painful. “That’s not important. Suffice it to say that Cynthia grew less and less supportive. I knew she was unhappy, but I never thought she’d leave.” His fingers tightened around the mug. Might as well tell her the rest.She’ll find out sooner or later. “The ugly truth is...my wife left me for another man.” The familiar surge of humiliation rose up to swamp him.
A mixture of disbelief and pity flitted across Paige’s face. “I’m so sorry.” She reached out a hand, but pulled it back before she made contact with his arm. “That must have been terrible for you.”
“You have no idea.” He gave a harsh laugh. “Then, after six months of misery, she told me she’d made a mistake and wanted to come home. Apparently her new boyfriend didn’t like being tied down with a child.” He shook his head. “As much as I missed Zach, I couldn’t take the risk of letting her back into my home or my life. I didn’t trust her anymore.” He glanced over to gauge Paige’s reaction. For some reason, it mattered that she understand his point of view.
A small frown creased her forehead. “Of course not. Not after what she put you through. She needed to earn your trust back again.”
His shoulders sagged at the lack of censure in her voice. “Thank you for saying that.” He closed his eyes against the wave of pain. “I only wish I could make myself believe that I did the right thing.”
His lids flew open at the feel of her warm hand on his arm. Compassion shone in her eyes.
“You feel guilty because she died before you could resolve things between you,” she said softly.
The unbearable weight of it crushed his shoulders. If only it were that simple. He swallowed what felt like shards of glass. “I feel guilty,” he said, “because I’m responsible for her death.”
* * *
Paige reeled from the shock of Nathan’s words. How could that be? “I thought your wife died from a brain aneurysm.”
He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “The aneurysm happened after I refused Cynthia’s request to reconcile. The doctor said stress was a significant factor in causing the rupture. I might as well have put a gun to her head.” The bitterness in his voice tore at her heart.
She shifted in her chair, leaned in and squeezed his arm. “You’re wrong, Nathan. You can’t take the blame for Cynthia’s bad choices. That type of guilt will eat you alive.” Long-dormant emotions bubbled up like a geyser to flood her senses. She knew all about dealing with guilt. Guilt that ate at your soul and prevented healing.
Nathan barked out a harsh laugh. “Tell me about it.”
For the first time, Paige understood the pain behind his coldness and anger. And the reason he hadn’t been able to be there for his son.
Nathan was emotionally paralyzed.
She knew this, not only from the textbooks she’d studied, but from painful, personal experience. “I understand exactly what you’re going through,” she said softly.
Paige had never told a stranger her story. As painful as it would be to reopen the wound, if it could benefit Nathan and Zach, how could she hold back?
She bit her lip, trying to decide if she had the courage to go through with it. Before she could make up her mind, her cell phone went off. She glanced down at the display from Jerry. “I’m sorry,” she said to Nathan. “They need me down at the water.”
“Of course.” The shuttered look had returned.
Paige rose and gathered her music book. “Thank you for the coffee. Maybe we can continue this conversation another time.” Perhaps then she’d be better prepared to share her story.
Nathan rose, as well. “I’d like that.” Despite his gruffness, he seemed sincere.
She nodded and turned to descend the stone steps. It might have been her imagination, but as she made her way down to the beach, Paige could almost feel him watching her.
Chapter Five (#ulink_66a841f4-d0cf-59ab-874e-ab7ea6755023)
Nathan threw the book of sudoku puzzles onto the coffee table, leaned his head back against the sofa cushions and closed his eyes, wondering exactly when he’d become a hermit. Holed up in his hotel room with an odd assortment of puzzles for company.
Nathan sighed, trying hard not to think about everyone outside celebrating the Fourth of July with a barbecue, while he ate a cold sandwich on the couch. Alone.
Part of him yearned to join in with the festivities, to forget his anguish for one night, and pretend to be someone other than a washed-up minister with a son who hated him. But no matter where Nathan went, he couldn’t escape his past. Inevitably someone would ask him about his family, or his job. If only he were good at inventing vague answers. Unfortunately, the talent to fabricate stories seemed beyond his skill set.
Memories of past holidays stormed through his mind with the relentless fury of a freight train. Memories of the church picnics in the park, of families playing Frisbee, tag and hide-and-seek, waiting for the annual fireworks display to begin. Memories of happier times with Cynthia when they’d carry a sleeping Zach home to bed and tuck him in together.
Desperate for a distraction, Nathan grabbed the remote and clicked on the TV. If he were lucky, some mindless criminal show would capture his interest until it was late enough to go to bed.
He’d flicked through all the channels when a loud rap at his door startled him. He pressed the mute button and got slowly to his feet, annoyance climbing through him. Probably either George or Catherine, trying to coerce him to come out. His friends meant well, but couldn’t they understand he’d come up here for solitude and quiet?
A second knock, louder this time, echoed in the room.
“Who is it?”
“Paige McFarlane.”
Nathan jolted to his full height. What was she doing here? He flung open the door.
Dressed in her usual Wyndermere polo shirt and jeans, her hair loose around her shoulders, Paige stood poised ready to knock again.
“Is Zach okay?” he practically barked at her.
“He’s fine.” Her citrus scent swirled around him, irritating his already foul mood even further.
“Then why are you here?” Maybe if he was rude enough, she’d leave him be.
Instead, she hiked her chin, green eyes flashing. “I wondered why you weren’t attending the celebration with everyone else.”
“I have a headache.” That was partially true. He rubbed his fingers over his temple in a vain attempt to ease the throbbing.
“Well, swallow some aspirin and get your shoes. You’re coming to the fireworks display.”
Nathan crossed his arms over his chest and simply stared. The withering look usually worked on Zach. He hoped it would have the same effect on her.
She crossed her arms, mirroring his stance, and waited.
He jerked his head toward the still-open door. “You might as well leave. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Zach needs to see you attempting to live a normal life. How do you expect him to move on when you bury your head in the sand like this?” She marched into the room, picked up the plate with half an uneaten sandwich on it and jabbed it toward him. “Is this your dinner? That’s pathetic when there are ribs and hamburgers outside.”
His temper ignited. He strode toward her and yanked the plate from her fingers. “What I eat or don’t eat is none of your business.”
She snatched the remote and pressed the power button.
“I was watching that.”
“Not anymore. Where are your shoes? And you might need a jacket if it gets cool later.”
“I am not six years old—”
“Then start acting like it.” She fisted her hands on her hips and glared at him.
Nathan opened his mouth, then clamped his lips together, unsure what might come out. Something unministerial, that’s for sure.
“Look, Nathan. Almost all the parents are out there sharing the holiday with their children. What message are you sending Zach by staying in here?”
“That I don’t like crowds?”
“Wrong. That you don’t like him.”
Her words reverberated off the walls around him, shaming him with their truth. All the resentment drained out of him, and he sagged onto the nearest chair. He did not deserve to be a parent. He couldn’t function at all, not for himself, not even for Zach.
The warmth of a hand on his arm made him raise his head. “You can do this, Nathan. For Zach’s sake. He needs to see you there, even if you only say two words to him. Just knowing you’re there will mean everything to him.”
The compassion swirling in the depth of her eyes mesmerized him. More than anything he needed a lifeline. Maybe Paige McFarlane could be his.
She took his hand and tugged him to his feet. “Come on. I’ll walk down with you.”
* * *
When all the kids were seated on the lawn and the fireworks had finally started, Paige made her way over to the picnic table where Nathan was sitting. Her heart swelled with sympathy. The poor guy looked as if he was at a funeral instead of a party. Still, he’d spent a few minutes with his son, before Zach and Peter had run off to join a game of hide-and-seek with the other campers. But Paige didn’t miss the relief on Zach’s face when he first saw his father.
She hopped up onto the table top to sit beside Nathan. “You doing okay?”
“Fine.”
He didn’t sound fine. Not one little bit. A thought hit Paige. Perhaps this holiday had special meaning for him and his wife. Why hadn’t she thought of that before?
“Is this day bringing up sad memories?” she asked quietly.
Nathan stiffened beside her. “How did you know?”
“Not hard to figure out. Holidays, birthdays, anniversaries...they’re all tough dates to get through.” She clasped her hands on her lap. “I usually try to do something different to change the significance of the date.” Like going rock climbing on the day she should have been married. “Hard to change Independence Day though.” She gave him a smile, hoping to lighten his mood.
He shifted on the wooden surface to look at her. “So you lost someone close to you?”
She swallowed, then turned to meet his questioning gaze. “I did.”
“A parent?”
She looked away, wishing she could deny God’s gentle nudging to share her grief. If her story could help Nathan in some small way, she had no choice but to share it. “No. My fiancé.”
She felt him stiffen. “I’m so sorry. That must have been difficult.”
The laugher of children drifted by them, a direct contradiction to the seriousness of their conversation.
“You have no idea.” She gripped her fingers together, steeling herself for the onslaught of pain. “Colin was killed in a car accident—three weeks before our intended wedding day.”
He sucked in a breath. “How awful. When did this happen?”
“Almost four years ago now. But sometimes it feels like yesterday.” She blinked to keep any tears from forming. “At the time I believed Colin’s accident was all my fault.”
Nathan reached over and covered her hands with his own. She started at the warm strength of his fingers.
“What happened?” he asked quietly after several moments.
She hesitated, praying she could do this without falling apart. “I hadn’t seen Colin in days. He’d been working on his thesis nonstop to finish before the wedding. I knew he was exhausted, but I was feeling sorry for myself, overwhelmed with wedding preparations. I begged him to come over.” She drew in a ragged breath. “The police couldn’t say for sure what happened, except they found his car wrapped around a telephone pole—with Colin dead at the scene.”
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