Page 17 of Muskoka Blue
She peeked across to where Dan sat, eyes closed, leaning back on outstretched arms. Howawfulto weep like that with such a stranger. But holding back the tears had been impossible, the sorrow squeezing from the furthest corners of her heart. She’d needed to cry to get rid of every drop.
Those months in hospital, she’d been told to focus on getting better and not give way to grief. Tears at night had only led to concerned questions from her parents. She’d pasted on courage with Stephen’s family for their sake, and the charade had continued, the tears pushing down into some cold, dark well inside, damming up her heart, increasing the pressure in her soul.
But she felt better now.
Sarah grabbed another tissue, grimacing. If only she had a face that could cry pretty, but no. She always managed to do what Oprah would call the ugly cry. Her nose felt swollen, the skin on her face had to be bright red, and she could barely see, her eyes had puffed so much from all the tears. She shook her head. Stupid vanity. What did it matter?
She gazed across Muskoka’s vivid blue as the sun warmed her.God, that was really embarrassing, but thanks for the freedom to cry here. Thanks for Ange and John.
The gentle wash of the water was punctuated by a faraway squabble of ducks. She glanced at the man sitting peacefully nearby. “Hey, Dan?”
He opened his eyes. “Mmm?”
“Thanks for being here.”
“Anytime.” His gaze was soft. “I’ll be praying for you.”
“Thanks.” Tears? Still? She blinked them away. “I obviously need it.”
“Hey, we all do.”
A faint insect buzz began nearby. Dan stretched, yawned, then lay down on the grass, closing his eyes again, muscles popping as he rested his head on clasped hands.
She studied him, the picture of controlled strength. “You know, for such a macho man, you’re really kind of nice.”
His brow wrinkled. “Macho man?”
She bit her lip. Was he offended? “I didn’t mean—”
“And what do you mean by ‘kind of nice’?” He opened his eyes and flicked her a crooked grin. “I’ll have you know, Iamnice.”
Maybe he was. Sarah dropped her gaze, as the diamond twinkled impudently up at her. She slowly turned the ring around until she could only see the gold band. And frowned.
Chapter 4
Yesterday’s storm had scrubbed the world clean. Dan leaned against the wooden railing of the deck as he finished his juice. It was a new day, a fresh start, and Muskoka shone in all God’s glory. The lake sparkled, the trees were brightly washed, the sky was clear, the world held hope. Days like today—fresh, invigorating—made him glad to be alive.
Last night he’d caught up with some of the Bible study guys. Mike, Tim, and Brent had been distracted with their little kids, the sight of which had tugged envy again, and he’d been glad for the distraction of Beau, Tyler, Luc, and Ryan as they shared about their summer plans. Beau had apologized for not being able to help out at Dan’s camp this year, which had helped Dan refocus from such stupid emotions.
His thoughts slid to next door. Hopefully the storm had also washed away more of Sarah’s sorrow. He chewed his lip. He’d never been good with emotions. As the middle of three brothers, he’d never really needed to be. But that same little prompting to invite Sarah to fish had insisted he stay, even as everything within had protested.
And now he was kinda glad. Learning her story—her tragedy, really—had prompted some googling last night that had revealed more of who she’d been. He’d barely recognized her as Heartsong Collective’s lead singer on the YouTube videos, and he’d found himself watching clip after clip, his heart tugging to know more. That vibrant, sassy, rock-star-like chick moving around the stage like she owned it was Sarah? Who would’ve thought? He even recognized some of the songs she’d written as ones he’d sung in church. He struggled to reconcile that confident woman with the broken one from yesterday, but knew he shouldn’t have been so quick to judge.Sorry, God. At least the ice princess had thawed enough to show him those cracks. He hoped she was doing better now.
He took another deep breath of the pine-scented air, placed the glass in the kitchen sink, then headed over to check on his neighbors.
John and Ange were drinking coffee on the deck and greeted him with a smile. “You survived last night all right?”
“Sure was a wild one. Fun to watch, though.”
“You’ve got a great spot for storm watching.”
He chatted with them for a while, then entered the back door to find Sarah in the kitchen, holding a cup of tea. Her face seemed a little swollen and pink, but also lighter, less shadowed.
“Hey.”
Her gaze dropped to study the wooden floorboards. “Hi.”
“How’s it going?”