A Time To Heal. Линда Гуднайт

against her cheek warmed Kathryn more than the seventy-degree day. And that was neither good nor acceptable. She backed away, breaking contact as he’d done earlier.

      “I appreciate the invitation, Seth. Really. But I won’t be coming to church.”

      A slight frown puckered his dark, slashing eyebrows. “Why not? Don’t want to sit by me? Or are you already heading back to OKC?”

      “I don’t know an easy way to say this.” A knot formed beneath her breast bone, like a hand squeezing her heart, but he might as well hear the truth directly from her so he wouldn’t be asking. “I don’t go to church anymore, Seth.”

      He stilled, alert and watchful. “Care to explain that a little better?”

      Explain? How did she explain what she didn’t understand herself?

      Even through the sunglasses, his gaze bored into her, earnest and concerned. She didn’t want his concern. She didn’t want anything from him.

      Turning her head, she stared out over the silvery lake. In the far corner of a nearby cove, a single boat bobbed above the gentle current. The soft murmur of voices, sprinkled with laughter, carried across the water. The scene was a happy one. Serene. Peaceful.

      Kathryn couldn’t feel that peace, hadn’t felt peace in a long time.

      “Somewhere along the line I lost my faith,” she said to the wind, though she could feel the intensity of Seth’s gaze burning a hole in her conscience. “I wish I still believed that God was the answer to everything. I wish I believed He cared. But the truth is, Seth,” she said, swinging her gaze to finally meet his, “I don’t believe in anything at all.”

      Chapter Four

      Lost her faith. Kat’s bald statement rolled round and round inside Seth’s head as he drove along the lake’s edge checking for problems and then into town.

      Kat no longer believed in God? He couldn’t take it in. All through high school her Christian stand had impressed him. So much so that he’d carried the seed of her witness to Houston and ultimately to a relationship with the Lord.

      What could have happened to steal Kat’s faith?

      A sick foreboding started low in his belly and climbed, full grown, into his mind.

      He pulled the truck into the slanted parking spot in front of O’Grady’s Hardware Store and killed the motor. Hands gripping the steering wheel, he squeezed his eyes closed and huffed a painful sigh.

      Today he’d gone to Kathryn’s to apologize and maybe to be a friend. He wanted nothing else from her. In fact, he never wanted anything from any woman again except friendship. Not with his track record. Somehow he’d destroyed his marriage and let God down. And a long time ago he’d failed Kathryn.

      The reckless kid he’d been back then had blamed her as much as himself. Maybe more. She was the one who had ultimately walked away, who wanted a career in medicine more than anything else, including him. He’d resented that so much.

      But now he wondered. Had the wounds they’d inflicted on each other caused her to question God?

      The only sensible answer was yes.

      He was the reason Kathryn no longer believed. Because of what he’d done, what he’d caused her to do, seventeen years ago.

      “Lord, I could use a little guidance here,” he murmured. “I’ve messed things up again.”

      He made the same confession a lot lately.

      When his prayer brought no immediate answer, he exited the truck, habitually snicking the locks. Half the people in Wilson’s Cove still didn’t lock their cars or houses, a worrisome practice he was trying to change.

      For the most part, the sleepy little town experienced few crimes and the townsfolk were convinced no one would steal from them personally. Summer people, they claimed, caused all the trouble, pointing to the rise in problems from Memorial Day to Labor Day. After years of working the streets of Houston, Seth might be cynical, but safety first was not a cliché.

      As he stepped up on the sidewalk, he was greeted by passersby who called him by name and asked how he was doing. This was one of his favorite things about moving back to Wilson’s Cove. Here he had a name, a dozen people he called close friends and many more acquaintances, folks he’d known all his life. Though years and miles had separated them, the town embraced him again as soon as he declared his intent to stay. He’d never leave here again, ever. He was home and this was where he wanted to live out his life. Nothing could drag him away again.

      His single status was the object of the town’s gossips, but he didn’t mind much. In a town this size, talking about each other was the major source of entertainment. As long as the conversation remained truthful, no one was hurt. Anyway, that was his way of thinking.

      He appreciated the motherly ladies, too, who handed him foil-wrapped lasagna and slices of homemade pie or invited him to dinner after church each Sunday. Many of them had known his mother during the hard times and seemed to enjoy spoiling Virgie Washington’s boy. Life was good here in Wilson’s Cove, and as the only law-enforcement official for miles around, Seth planned to keep it that way.

      This was one of the reasons the break-ins worried him so much. Four in less than two months, all on weekends, which led him to suspect lake weekenders or their kids. Other than a few unidentifiable tire tracks and nonregistered fingerprints, he had exactly zero evidence.

      As he scraped open the door to O’Grady’s Hardware, Seth sniffed wood shavings and motor oil and a hint of this morning’s coffee left on the burner too long. The scents were a step back in time. O’Grady’s had been here as long as Seth could remember and sold everything from tools and car parts to wood stoves and burial policies. The latter had never struck a single soul as an odd thing for a hardware store to sell.

      “What can I do for you today, Seth?” Jim Green, the mustached clerk, asked. The two men had gone to high school together and played on the football team. Even now, Jim was as big and burly as an offensive lineman. “Need more insulation for that ceiling?”

      “Lumber today, Jim. I have a couple of docks to repair.”

      “The town’s getting its money’s worth out of you, isn’t it?” Jim asked with a grin.

      “I hope so. Wouldn’t want them to fire me.”

      “No chance of that happening.” Before Seth could swell with the compliment, Jim finished with, “Who else would take a job in this place?”

      Maybe no one, but Seth was thankful for the opportunity just the same. If he’d stayed in Houston, he wasn’t sure what might have happened. He’d definitely lost his edge after the divorce, one thing an inner-city cop could not afford to do.

      He handed the man his list and began to move around the store, picking up the things he needed while Jim took care of the items in the lumberyard.

      He was standing next to the paint samples, a can of weather retardant in one hand when the old door of the hardware store, swelled with spring humidity, scraped open against the concrete floor. Seth glanced up as Susan Renfro entered. She spotted him immediately.

      “Hey, Seth. I thought that was your truck out there. How ya been?”

      “All right. You?”

      “Fat and sassy.” She laughed and stepped up to the racks of paint swatches. “Emphasis on fat.”

      Seth smiled. He’d always liked Kat’s sister, and even though she’d gained a few pounds, he thought she was still one of the prettiest women in the Cove. “I saw Kat this morning.”

      Her grin turned to curiosity. “Really? I don’t see any blood. Didn’t she whop you upside the head for renting her cabin?”

      “I think she’s over being mad. At least, I hope she is.” He picked up a paint stick, adding the wooden paddle to