Concentration proved impossible after Sebastian’s phone call. So impossible that she couldn’t finish grading. She ended up funneling her nervous energy and conflicting thoughts into cleaning.
“What’re you doing?” Dylan asked during one of his kitchen snack breaks.
“Straightening up.”
“When you clean, you make me help. And you never clean at this time of night. Plus, you’re moving at, like, twice your usual speed.”
“Sebastian is going to stop by.”
“Even though he lives in Atlanta?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“And isn’t your boyfriend?”
“It’s complicated.”
He chuckled all the way back to his room.
She was Swiffering the hardwood floor when Sebastian’s headlights bounced onto her driveway. She set the broom aside and pushed her arms into a fitted blue sweatshirt. Wearing the yoga pants and tennis shoes she’d donned for her after-work hike earlier, she stepped onto the front porch.
He shut his car door and crossed to her. The serious lines of his features emphasized glowing gray eyes. He’d clothed his tall body in worn jeans and a casual black pullover with a short, open zipper at the neck.
He stopped a yard away and scrutinized her. She scrutinized him right back. She’d had time to prepare for him. Even so, she was not prepared for him. Had she really believed just a few short months ago that she was incapable of experiencing physical attraction? Now she was suffused with it to the point that it threatened to decimate clear thought and good intentions.
He’d said on the phone that he missed her. She’d missed him, too. His assurance, humor, self-reliance. And beneath all of that, a very real storehouse of goodness. Her world had been small and dull without him in it.
“Come in.” She led him to the now-spotless kitchen, the room farthest from Dylan’s room. “Can I get you anything?”
“No.” He leaned against the countertop, facing her, his hands curled around its edge on either side of his hips.
She leaned against the opposing counter and crossed her arms. It really was exceptional, the combustion that thickened the air when they were together. Like the Force in Star Wars—invisible and powerful.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t ask you first before calling the dean about Dylan,” he said. “And I’m also sorry that I didn’t say anything about it when you mentioned the dean’s email. My motives were good, but my execution sucked. If my execution sucked, then it doesn’t matter what my motives were.”
“Your motives do matter to me, actually. I know you wanted to help. It’s just the—the way you helped happened to poke right at my worst fear, which is my own helplessness. Or, in this case, my concern that you perceived me as helpless.”
“I view you as the least helpless woman I’ve ever met.”
“Honestly?”
“Yes.”
The admission unwound something tight within her. “I’m sorry, too. I wish I’d reacted with more patience.”
Hip-hop music pulsed softly from Dylan’s room.
“I can’t help but want to do things for you,” he said, “to show you how I feel. But there’s very little I can do, so when I saw my chance, I took it.”
“I don’t tend to receive acts of service well, which is a flaw of mine. If you want to express how you feel about me, I recommend that you tell me.”
“I care about you.” His eyes held hers. “A lot. I’m worried you don’t feel the same about me because I haven’t heard from you for a week.”
“I . . .” She selected her words the way she’d carefully choose shells on a beach. “I care about you, too. I didn’t call you because it seems to me that parting ways at this point is the wisest step.”
His mouth thinned. “Why?”
“Because our . . . connection was supposed to be carefree and fun.”
“It is carefree and fun.” He spoke in a voice so much the opposite of carefree and fun that she laughed.
“No,” she insisted, “it’s not.”
“Your time with me in Atlanta wasn’t fun?”
“It was fun—up until we argued. It hasn’t been fun since then. Potentially worse, though . . . my feelings for you are no longer as lighthearted as I’d have them be.”
“Explain to me why it’s important to you that your feelings for me stay lighthearted.”
“So many reasons.”
“I’d like to hear them all.”
“Well, before I’d feel comfortable allowing my feelings for you to become more . . . entrenched, I’d want to have some assurance that you’ll be able to let me in. Otherwise, what are we doing here? We’re wasting our time because we’re destined for failure.”
He seemed to weigh her point of view. “I’ve been letting you in. As much as I can. This is me, letting you in.”
“And what about trust? Do you think you’ll be able to bring yourself to trust me?” She hastened to add, “I won’t blame you if the answer’s no. If the answer’s no, I’ll understand why.”
“Look, I can’t stand here with a straight face and tell you that I’m skilled at relationships. I’m not. But I can tell you that I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I think about you all day. In any given moment, I’m more worried about your happiness than my own. Food tastes terrible to me. I can’t concentrate. Markie has accused me of waking up on the wrong side of the bed every day this week.” He scratched the back of his neck. “You’re worried about taking this to the next level, and I get it—because so am I. I’m worried enough about where this is going that I’ve been losing sleep over it. But here’s what it comes down to for me: I’m willing to lose sleep over it. The thing I am not willing to lose right now . . . is you.”
Oh dear. Her inhibitions were swooning like Victorian women.
“I can’t guarantee that I can be what you want me to be or anything else about the future,” he continued. “We won’t know what’s going to happen with us until we let it happen.”
She appreciated that he’d refrained from spouting lies about his ability to trust. At the same time, uneasiness curved around her lungs, because she truly did see his issues as landmines.
“The timing of our relationship is terrible,” she stated.
“How so?”
“At the moment, I’m focused on shepherding Dylan through his senior year.”
“Your focus on that shouldn’t and doesn’t have to change.”
“Then next school year, when Dylan goes to college, I’ll finally have the opportunity to begin my PhD coursework online. It won’t be easy. I’ll still be working full time at the high school. Classes, studying, projects, and papers will take almost all the free time I have. It doesn’t make sense to sabotage my focus by adding a man to my life who has a very demanding career of his own.”
“Leah.”
“Yes?”
“If you told me you wanted Saturn on a string, I would do my best to get it for you. I’m a determined person, and I’m determined that you’ll get your PhD. If you’ll let me, I’ll fight beside you to protect your dream.”
His words knocked the wind out of her. “I—I don’t expect you to protect my dream.”
“It’s important to you, so it’s important to me.”
Nothing he could have said would have endeared him to her more.
“What other concerns do you have?” he asked.
“We don’t live in the same town. That’s a concern.”
“I don’t like living an hour and forty minutes away from you, but I’m willing to come here for the weekend whenever I’m not on call. I won’t pressure you to come to Atlanta.”
“You pressured me to go to Atlanta just a few days ago!”
“Okay, fine. I’ll do my best not to pressure you in the future. At least—” he looked sheepish—“not often. If there comes a time when someone needs to move, I will.”
“You don’t mean that.”
He looked her right in the eye. “Try me.”
“There are no pediatric heart clinics in Misty River.”
“If sacrifices or compromises need to be made for our relationship, Leah, I’ll be the one to make them.”
She’d been to his hospital twice. She’d seen a few of his patients. Extensively, she’d studied his specialty. She’d never condone his leaving Beckett Memorial unless he left to accept a more senior position at an even more influential hospital. So, see? Her vehement reaction to the mere idea of his moving proved her concern valid. Despite his incredibly noble words, if one of them had to make a compromise for their relationship, it would not be the pediatric heart surgeon.
She’d watched her mom subjugate her dream of living overseas for her marriage, and look how well that had turned out. Ultimately, Mom’s resentment toward her husband had boiled over.
“You’re smart,” he said. “You rely on your brain to make informed decisions. I respect that. But your decision to take over custody of Dylan wasn’t made by your brain because, on paper, it didn’t add up.” He tipped his head slightly. “Was taking over custody of Dylan the best decision you ever made?”
Confound it! He was good at this. “You know that it was.”
“When it comes to me, I’m asking you to draw on whatever part of you made that decision. Not all good things make sense or can be quantified.”
Her years with Dylan had taught her the absolute truth of that.
Sebastian closed the space between them and took her face in his hands. “You’ve shown how brave you are. Be brave with me.”
She might be opening herself up to deep heartache if she let this continue. “Ah . . .” Lord! What should I do? Show me. Tell me.
No clear answer came.
Sebastian’s talk of protecting her dreams had gone to her head, because it was so astonishingly, shockingly wonderful to have someone on her side, supporting what she valued. “The thing is,” she whispered, “I don’t need a man in my life. I have math.” One of her fingertips disobeyed orders and traced the shape of his lower lip.
“I don’t want you to need me. I want you to choose me.”
“I abhor romance.” She slid her fingers into the thick, silky strands of his hair.
“I know.”
He took her mouth in a kiss—thorough, urgent, filled with pent-up feelings—and her resistance fell like a building leveled by dynamite.
Drugging minutes passed. He lifted his head a few inches. “Am I your boyfriend now?”
“No.”
“Yes I am.” He regarded her challengingly. “I am now, Leah.”
“We’re not together.”
“Yes we are. We’ve had a fight, and I’ve driven across Georgia to make up with you, and now we’re together. Agreed?”
She hesitated. “I’m undecided and in need of convincing.” A smile stole across her mouth.
More kisses filled her kitchen with golden heat and wonder.
“Are we together?” His voice had turned raspy.
She answered with “Undecided” the next four times he asked that question, until she was gasping and he was watching her with eyes that made a million promises.
“Yes,” she finally said. She defied any woman, given the temptation of Sebastian Grant, to answer differently.
Her misgivings remained.
It’s just that, at this awe-laced moment, the joy he offered was greater.
Leah lay wide-awake in bed until well after one that morning. Marveling. Melting. Worrying.
Sebastian had stayed for two hours, which was far longer than was wise, considering the length of his drive home and how early the two of them had to be at work. But a wide strain of rebelliousness ran through Sebastian. He wasn’t one to make the sensible choice if the sensible choice wasn’t what he wanted.
The text she’d asked him to send when he reached home finally arrived.
I’m at my apartment.
Sweet dreams.
Good night, girlfriend.
I wholeheartedly dislike girlfriend as an endearment.
Fine. Good night, princess.
Princess is worse than girlfriend. I advise you to stick with professor. Professor, I like.
In that case, good night, Professor.
She set her phone to silent, placed it on its dock, and relaxed against her pillows. “What are you up to?” she asked God.
Since Sebastian had asked her out on their first date, she’d been praying for and about him daily.
It comforted her when God provided her with clarity, like He’d done so many times before, regarding the path He wanted her to take.
In this case, He hadn’t provided clarity, which left her with circling doubts.
She couldn’t fathom why God had brought Sebastian into her life or His objective for the two of them.
“Are you paying attention?” Her words vanished into the darkness. If I’m veering off track by dating him, please, please let me know and steer me back on course.
Sebastian’s world was right again.
He couldn’t have cared less about the sleep he’d sacrificed last night driving to Misty River and back. He didn’t even feel tired. He’d succeeded at fixing things with Leah, and today, that was all that mattered.
He’d been granted a week of vacation that would start in two and a half weeks. Soon he’d have uninterrupted days in Misty River with her.
While waiting in line for lunch, a text arrived from Natasha to Genevieve, him, and Ben.
I just found out that Luke has a parole hearing today. I’m praying they let him out.
Sebastian grunted skeptically. Luke had been uncooperative with his attorneys when he’d gone to trial seven years ago, and he hadn’t made a good impression the last time he’d come up for parole.
Genevieve immediately responded.
I’ll be praying over it, too.
Then from Ben:
Sebastian kept his response neutral.
Thanks for letting us know.
His stance on Luke was complex. Sympathy and resentment. Indebtedness and bitterness.
That evening Natasha sent a follow-up text.
Luke has been released, thank the Lord.
God continued to withhold clarity from Leah regarding Sebastian. But what she did receive—every day, day after day—was the heady delight of dating him.
They talked and laughed on the phone each night and texted each other between calls. On Thursday, they reached the one-year anniversary of the day they’d met. They celebrated by simultaneously watching the first The Fast and the Furious movie—a film in which cars were wrecked in even more spectacular fashion than Sebastian had wrecked his.
He flew to Misty River the minute he got off work on Friday. Dylan had an away game, so the two of them cooked dinner at her place.
They spent Saturday and Sunday fishing on a remote stretch of river and hiking trails carpeted with crimson and yellow leaves.
He flew back to Atlanta, and their texts and nightly phone calls immediately resumed.
He returned the following weekend, which passed just as gloriously. They drove to the lake and rented a boat for the afternoon. When darkness fell, they moved to a lakeside firepit. Holding hands, they watched orange flames crackle against a backdrop of moon-silver water.
They enjoyed Sunday lunch at Whiskey’s restaurant with Dylan and Mr. and Mrs. Coleman. Sebastian’s ease with her brother wooed her far better than flowers or chocolates.
When it came time for Sebastian to return to Atlanta, Leah noted that saying good-bye to him was steadily becoming more difficult.
They picked back up where they’d left off with texts and calls.
Am I veering off track by dating him? she continued to ask God. Please tell me if I am.
But an answer did not come.
On Thanksgiving morning, the day before Sebastian was due to arrive for his vacation in Misty River, Leah slid a green bean casserole into her oven. She had a blessed gap of time before she’d need to transport her casserole and brother to Tess and Rudy’s for the big meal.
She sank onto a kitchen chair and scrolled through new email on her phone. With a jolt, she saw that she’d received two emails in response to her death certificate requests.
She opened the first one. No death certificate for Bonnie O’Reilly had been found.
That might mean that Bonnie O’Reilly was still living, or that might mean that Leah’s lack of details regarding Bonnie had ended in a failed search.
She clicked the second email. A death certificate had been located for Ian Monroe O’Reilly.
What?
She followed the link provided. A PDF of Ian’s death certificate expanded on the screen.
Ian’s mother was listed as Bonnie Theresa Byrne O’Reilly. “Blimey,” she breathed, astonished. Bonnie’s birthplace: Oxford, Alabama. Ian’s father: Malcolm Francis O’Reilly. Ian had been born and had died in Atlanta. Cause of death: overdose from heroin and alcohol. Age: twenty-eight . . . the exact same age that Leah was now.
She blinked at the death certificate. Had Ian’s overdose been the unintentional outcome of mixing too much heroin with too much alcohol? Or had he purposely taken that cocktail with the intention of committing suicide?
At last, she’d found Bonnie O’Reilly. Unfortunately, though, this information had flowed to her through Bonnie’s son’s death certificate.
Leah retrieved her computer and brought up YourHeritage.com. This time, she ran a search for census records equipped with Bonnie’s full name and place of birth.
The site highlighted the Byrne family in the 1940 census.
Bonnie’s parents were named Sean and Ellen. Like Bonnie, Sean and Ellen had been born in Oxford. At the time of this census, Bonnie had been just a few months old. Her elder sister, Orla, had been two. Sean worked construction. Ellen worked as a seamstress.
Additional hunting yielded Bonnie’s marriage record. Bonnie married Malcolm O’Reilly in Alpharetta, Georgia, when she was twenty-two.
Adroitly, Leah ran through the now-familiar routine, looking for Bonnie Byrne O’Reilly and Malcolm Francis O’Reilly via Google and social media sites.
Nothing.
She’d found Bonnie in one sense but still had no idea how to parlay that into a meeting with the woman in the here-and-now.
Sebastian made it to Misty River’s football stadium by halftime on Friday night. He’d been so eager to see Leah that he’d gone to work at five this morning so he’d be able to wrap things up early and arrive in time to catch part of Dylan’s game.
As he maneuvered through the sea of bodies behind the bleachers, he caught sight of blond hair in the crowd.
Leah came into view, walking in his direction, carrying a bag of popcorn in one hand and a disposable cup in the other.
He’d rushed here from Atlanta for her. He’d taken a week of vacation for her. Seeing her proved those decisions right.
When she spotted him, her blue eyes rounded. Smile growing, she neared, then came to a stop before him. “You’re early.”
“I like to be early.”
“I like that you like to be early. I didn’t think I was going to get to see you until after the game. Had I known you were on-site, Connor and I wouldn’t have spent so long in the concession line.”
For the first time, he realized that someone was with her. Connor.
“I just got here,” Sebastian said.
“How’ve you been?” Connor asked.
“Really well.”
Ben hadn’t listed Connor as one of the school employees who had a crush on Leah. But, in this moment, that didn’t put Sebastian’s mind at ease. It could be that Leah viewed Connor as a friend but that Connor, like Ben, viewed Leah as more.
“I was just talking with Ben earlier this week,” Connor said, “about what you guys went through back in El Salvador.”
“He’s a good one to talk to about it.” Unlike me.
“I grew up here, so I have clear memories of watching the news coverage. For days, my mom was either praying about it or sitting in front of the TV set, waiting for updates.”
“Thank your mom for me,” Sebastian said.
“I’ll do that.”
Leah gave Sebastian a questioning look. “Are you going to sit with me this time or with the Colemans?”
“With you this time.”
“Good. Let’s get settled before the second half starts.”
They said good-bye to Connor. To lighten her load, Sebastian carried the popcorn as they walked up the ramp.
She had on the same jersey he’d seen her in at the last football game. Because of the colder late-November temperatures, she wore a white shirt beneath. She’d stuck the round pin of Dylan to a jean jacket.
“I’m jealous,” he said.
She stopped at the bottom rail of the bleachers. “Why?”
“Connor has something I want. He gets to be around you all week.”
“Ah. Well, the answer’s simple. Quit your job and become a teacher at Misty River High.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
“Don’t tempt me with all this—” she waved a hand at his face— “handsomeness. Honestly, Sebastian. It’s too much.”
“I want to make out with you.”
“No. We’re surrounded by hundreds of people.”
She was right. They were standing in view of the spectators. One of them would be Ben, and Sebastian wouldn’t do that to his friend. It’s just that it was way harder than expected not to touch her. He hadn’t seen her in days.
He followed her up the bleacher stairs.
She pointed to the side. “I’m sitting over here with Tess and Rudy.”
“I’ll say hi to the Colemans, then I’ll join you.”
“Excellent.”
He passed back her popcorn and made his way to the Coleman family section. They welcomed him with their usual loud enthusiasm.
“You’re joining us for church and Sunday dinner at the house, right?” CeCe demanded.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“If you stand me up, I’ll be after you with a shotgun.”
“I’ll be there.”
Hadley Jane jumped into his arms. “I haven’t seen you in so long, Sebastian.”
“It’s been too long,” he agreed. She stayed in his arms while he greeted the rest of the family. Eventually, he reached Ben. They hugged, causing the little girl to giggle when she was sandwiched between them.
“Is it okay with you that I’m here tonight?” Sebastian asked.
Ben gave a good-natured shrug. “You’re welcome to cheer for the Mountaineers anytime.”
“Yeah. It’s okay.” Ben’s expression looked clearer and less troubled than it had the past few times he’d seen his friend. “What’s been going on lately?”
They used to keep in close enough contact that Ben wouldn’t have had to ask. “Work’s been about the same.”
“Any change on the little girl who needs a heart transplant?”
“What little girl?” Hadley Jane asked.
“One of the babies I take care of at the hospital.” To Ben, Sebastian said, “We had to take her off the transplant list, but then we put her back on. Now we’re just waiting to see if a heart becomes available in time.”
“I hope it does. I feel for her and her parents.”
Hadley Jane’s jaw dropped. “She’s getting a new heart?”
“That’s the plan.”
“I want a new heart!”
“Your heart is already perfect. That’s my professional diagnosis as a surgeon.”
“But I don’t want this old one.”
“Newer isn’t always better.”
“Yeah huh, it is.”
“How’s your baseball team been doing?” Sebastian asked Ben. Ben had played baseball in college and now competed in a men’s league.
“We’re still dominating.”
“And your strained hamstring?”
“Better.”
Ben probably thought he knew how much their friendship meant to Sebastian. After all, Ben had experienced every minute of time they’d spent together. Yet Ben couldn’t know what his friendship had meant to a heartbroken, lonely kid. He couldn’t know what his dependability had been worth to a boy who’d learned young that the world wasn’t a reliable place. “Has anyone seen Luke here in Misty River since he was released?”
“Not that I know of. I’m planning to reach out to his mom soon to see if I can get his number from her.”
Sebastian nodded. “See you at church on Sunday?”
“Yes, and also Tuesday night, for dinner with Natasha and Genevieve.”
“Right.”
“I’m glad you’re going to be in town for the whole week.”
“Same here.”
“Now pass the child.” Ben reached for Hadley Jane. “You haven’t come over to see me yet, little girl. Which means you haven’t discovered the hidden lollipop I brought for you.”
She squealed and scrambled into Ben’s arms.
Sebastian found Leah and lowered onto the bleacher seat next to her.
Leaning back, she introduced him to the older couple sitting on her far side. They were wearing jerseys and Dylan pins that matched Leah’s.
Rudy grinned at him. “Are you two dating?”
“Yes,” Sebastian answered before Leah could say no.
“Rudy,” Tess said to her husband. “That’s not a very polite question.”
“I can’t help myself!” Rudy replied. “I’m just so happy to see Leah with a young man. It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”
“The pleasure’s mine.”
“Isn’t Leah the best?” Rudy asked.
“The best.”
“She’s the smartest thing.” Rudy’s glasses slipped down his nose. “The sweetest.”
“I don’t consider myself to be sweet,” Leah murmured under her breath to Sebastian.
“But smart you’ll accept?” he murmured back.
“You better believe I will.”
“Push up your glasses, please,” Tess instructed Rudy, who hurried to do as she asked.
A whistle sounded, and the teams jogged onto the field for the second half. The Mountaineers were down, seven to seventeen.
“Where’s Dylan?” Sebastian asked.
“There. On the sidelines. He played a fair amount in the first half, so I have hope that you’ll get to see him in action.” She held the popcorn toward him. He took a handful.
It tasted like average quality movie popcorn. But he was starving, so it might as well have been the most delicious thing he’d ever eaten.
“Did you have dinner?” she asked.
“Not yet.”
“I’ll go down and get you something. Hamburger? Hot dog—”
“You’re here to watch your brother. I’m here to watch your brother. I can wait to eat until after the game.”
“I really don’t mind,” she told him.
His chest ached with tenderness. He was a doctor, used to the role of caretaker, less familiar with being cared for. “Thanks, but I can wait.”
“Then eat the rest of this.” She passed the popcorn over. “I had as much as I wanted when you were talking to the Colemans.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.” Those thick lashes framed eyes that looked candid. But it might be that he was just a sucker where she was concerned. It might be that she could tell him the sun was made of Play-Doh, and he’d believe her.
“And here.” She lifted her cup. “Iced tea. There’s at least half left.”
He hesitated.
“Good grief. Here.” She thrust the tea at him. “For someone who’s quick to give gifts, you seem awfully reluctant to take them.”
“Oh?” he asked dryly. “How does that feel? To want to give something to someone who’s reluctant to take it?”
She laughed. “It’s my turn to complain about you! You’re not allowed to twist this into an opportunity to complain about me.”
On the next play, Dylan jogged onto the field. Leah cupped her hands around her mouth. “Go, Dylan!”
They were too far away for Dylan to hear. She scooted forward on the seat, back straight. The play went off. She shouted encouragement, clapped, winced, then clapped some more as the boys regrouped in a huddle.
Watching her was the best entertainment in Georgia.
“You got this, Mountaineers!” Leah yelled.
A few minutes later, the team failed to convert on third down and had to kick. She shook her head. “When they run the ball, they convert on third down sixty-seven percent of the time. So I’m not sure why they attempt to pass on third downs.”
“Can I go get a candy bar?” Rudy asked his wife.
The older woman released a frustrated sigh. “You already had half a Kit Kat, remember?”
“I’m still hungry.”
“Here. I have some carrot sticks in my purse.” Tess handed Rudy the snack she’d packed in a Baggie.
“Pretty soon,” Leah whispered to Sebastian, “Rudy will make a trip to the restroom and, when she’s not watching, buy and eat a cupcake.”
“I like them.”
She surveyed him from the corner of sparkling eyes. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
In a short period of time, she’d become too important to him. Stupidly important to him. His old priorities had crashed like a game of Jenga, and now she sat at the top. Which left him vulnerable. He’d been trying to hold himself and his emotions in check. He was losing the battle, though, and that knowledge planted a seed of dread in him.
If he was smart, he’d live in the moment, enjoy the time he had with her, and accept whatever came.
Instead, he’d begun to long for promises from her she wasn’t ready—might never be ready—to give.
He wanted her to promise that she’d love him forever.
That she wouldn’t leave him.
That she wouldn’t die.