A Time To Heal

“Me, too, Doc.” He gave her a lopsided grin and carefully slid his hand from beneath hers and rubbed at his smooth-shaven jaw. The action was intentional, Kat was sure, his way of letting her know that he did not welcome her touch. “But a broken marriage is something even a good doctor can’t fix.”

“I know.” She folded her fingers into a fist.

This was the frustration of being a doctor. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t fix everything. And there were always people who couldn’t accept that fact, including her.

Her visitor gave the porch railing a shake. The old wood wobbled like a bobble-headed doll.

“I can, however, fix this for you.” He nodded toward the rickety old fishing dock projecting out into the lapping water. “And that, too.”

“Feeling guilty about stealing my house?”

“Maybe a little, though dock inspection and repair is part of my job. Safety on the lake, first and foremost. Fix it or tear it down.”

“Doesn’t matter to me.” Nothing much did these days. “I really don’t care one way or the other.”

“The next renter might. I’ll fix it.” He slid the sunglasses back into place. “You sound a little down. Everything okay?”

Like she was going to tell him all her troubles. “I’m fine.”

He didn’t look as if he believed her but he had the grace not to say so. “Well, I guess I better get moving. There’s always work to do on the lake.”

“Not to mention the fact that you’re the only thing resembling law enforcement in Wilson’s Cove.”

“That, too. But I don’t mind. Policing both the town and the lake was part of the deal when they hired me. I’m more cop than I am lake ranger, anyway.”

“The county sheriff has always taken care of Wilson Cove.”

“That was before the lake grew so popular. Sheriff Trout has an entire county to cover with four men.”

Not to mention he was stationed thirty miles away in Henderson. “Any luck with finding out who’s responsible for the recent break-ins?”

“Not yet. Nothing’s been reported for a couple of weeks so maybe the perps were short-term visitors. But just in case, keep things secured and be alert.”

She’d worked in an inner city for years. A physician knew about secure and alert.

She tilted her head in a teasing smile. He sounded so incredibly macho. “Will do, Officer.”

“I mean it, Kathryn. You’re a woman alone. If you should need me…”

“I know where you live.” She couldn’t resist saying, “In my house.”

Some of his seriousness left and he shook his head in amusement. “Still the same sassy mouth.” He slapped the top of the railing, said, “And I’ll be back to work on the dock as soon as I can.”

She’d try not to be here. She didn’t say that, either. But being near Seth resurrected too many memories. She was depressed enough as it was.

“Thanks.”

“So, I guess I’ll see you at church on Sunday?”

“Church?” Her conscience pinched. She hadn’t been to church in years. Hadn’t even thought about going.

“Does that surprise you? That I go to church now?”

She tilted her head to one side. A robin swooped to the ground beside the porch and nabbed a worm.

“A little.”

“All those times you talked about your faith finally soaked in,” Seth said. “I took a while to get the message, but the first time I looked down the wrong end of a nine millimeter and came out alive, I promised God then and there to follow Him. I wouldn’t have survived the last couple of years without Him.”

One of the few things they’d fought about as teens was Seth’s lack of a relationship with God. Somewhere along the way, while she’d been losing her faith, Seth had discovered his.

The irony wasn’t lost on Kathryn, but it was a bitter pill to swallow.

The gentle breeze stirred, sending a lock of hair into her eyes. Her hands were so dirty, she left it.

“So what do you say?” Seth pushed the curl aside and leaned in, green eyes aflame, lips tilted. “See you Sunday morning? Ten-thirty? If you’re nice, I’ll let you sit by me.”

The brush of his hand 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 his collection of odds and ends. “She told me she doesn’t go to church anymore.”

Susan studied a paper strip with varying shades of brown. “Not in a long time. I’m surprised she told you.”

“Guess she didn’t have much choice. I asked if she’d be at church Sunday.”

Kat’s sister arched a brown eyebrow. “Bet that went over well.”

Not particularly. He’d felt the invisible wall rise between them as soon as he’d asked.

“What’s that all about, Suz? Kat’s faith is the reason I’m a Christian today. How could she stop believing?”

“I wish I knew. She went off to college and the next thing I know, she’s refusing to attend church.” She frowned. “Come to think of it, she stopped going to church before leaving for college.”

That’s what Seth was afraid of. His stomach fell to the toe of his boots and stayed there. Here was his answer. Kat had left the faith because of him. Rita had claimed the same thing. She even said she’d faked being a Christian to make him happy. He, Seth Washington, had caused two women to lose trust in God.

Wasn’t he special?

Susan thrust a strip of pale browns beneath his nose. “Which of these do you like best?”

What did he know? Brown was brown.

“That one,” he said, putting his finger on a medium shade in the center of the card.

“Terrific. I like chamois, too.”

Chamois was a color? He’d thought it was a cloth for polishing his truck.

While he pondered that bit of information, Susan switched gears on him. “We need to help her.”

“Who?”

She looked at him as though he’d been struck with a sudden onset of attention deficit. “Kat, of course.”

His belly did that sinking thing again.

He was all for helping people. To serve and protect, that was his motto, but he wasn’t sure Kat would appreciate the interference. “How?”

“She’s depressed. Didn’t you notice? I guess I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I thought…” Her voice trailed off, though Seth figured he knew where she was heading. And he didn’t much like the direction.

“I noticed she seemed down.” Kat had lost her sparkle, her confidence.

“She is. She’s being sued for some stupid thing and thinks she wants to leave medicine for good.”

Seth held back a disparaging sound. “She won’t do that.”

He knew better. Kat wouldn’t give up the career she loved. She wouldn’t stay in Wilson’s Cove. She might be tired and need a vacation among hometown folks, but that’s all it was—a vacation.

“I don’t think so, either, but I’m worried about her.” Susan raised a yellow color sample up to the light. “Why don’t you come for supper tonight and we’ll talk?”

Talk? About Kat? No, he didn’t think so.

The hardware clerk, sweat on his upper lip, traipsed down an aisle toward them. “Got your stuff together, Seth. Pull around in back when you’re ready.”

“Will do. Add these to the tab, will you?” He handed off the armload of supplies and waited for Jim to start back to the register before saying to Susan, “I’m not sure Kat would be happy to be the topic of this conversation.”

“Kat’s not happy about anything, anyway.”

But she was a private person who wouldn’t appreciate her sister’s interference. “Why are you telling me this?”

Susan lifted one shoulder. “Because she won’t listen to me. She gets her back up whenever I mention God or church.”

“That’s too bad, Susan. Seriously, but I don’t understand where I come into the picture. Kat and I don’t even know each other.”

“But you were once close.”

Yes, too close. Close enough to break each other’s hearts and change the course of their lives. He refused to let his mind go in that direction.

“I’m sure she has close friends today, probably even a boyfriend. Why not talk to them about this?”

“Number one,” Susan tapped a paint card against her fingers as she ticked off the reasons. “Kat isn’t currently seeing anyone. Number two, I don’t know any of her friends. And number three, you just expressed concern about Kat’s lost faith. I thought you’d be interested.”

Right. He had asked. And he was interested. He just wasn’t sure getting personally involved was a good idea.

“It’s only supper, Seth. You haven’t been over in weeks. And if you don’t want to discuss Kat, that’s fine. We can have supper and a good visit. We’d love to have you.”

“All right, then. Supper sounds good. I need to talk to Danny about a couple of old dilapidated cabins east of the marina, anyway. What time?”

“Shelby has piano after school. Let’s make dinner around six, okay?”

“I’ll be there.”

A man had to eat, and Susan Renfro was the best cook in the county. Kat didn’t have to be part of the equation. In fact, he’d make sure Kat was not part of the equation. There were some mistakes a man did not want to repeat.

He’d been set up.

Anyway, the casual evening at Susan’s felt like a setup to Seth.

He’d been sitting in Danny Renfro’s living room, enjoying a friendly argument about baseball. He liked Danny. Everyone did. Tall and so blond the guys in school had called him “surfer boy,” Susan’s husband had enough personality to sell raincoats in the dessert. His real estate success surprised no one, though he’d gotten a good start by marrying a girl whose family had once owned the lake and all the land around it.

Susan had been in the kitchen, creating something that smelled so delicious Seth’s bachelor stomach whimpered in anticipation.

Thirty minutes into a relaxing evening, the front door opened and Kat walked in.

For a few seconds Seth was transported back to a time when he’d eagerly waited here in this very room for Kat to come bounding down the stairs, ready for a Saturday-night date.

More interested in books than being popular, Kat had never been a fashion diva, but she always looked good to him. Tonight she was dressed in capris—or whatever women called those short pants—and a pink shirt. She looked as she had in high school, fresh and pretty.

Her long brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Simple. Clean. Neat. Very like the girl he remembered. She was curvier now, a change he appreciated, though he probably shouldn’t be noticing.

Back in high school, Susan had been Miss Popularity, the outgoing cheerleader type while Kat had stayed in the background, quietly plotting her future.

At the time, he’d expected that future to include him. Of course, it hadn’t.

Young and cocky and in love, his heart had always accelerated the moment he locked eyes on her.

His heart accelerated tonight, but for different reasons. He wasn’t quite sure, however, what those reasons were.

Kat, too, must have been taken unawares because as soon as she saw him, she paused. Only a beat, but he noticed.

The trip down memory lane was broken by that infinitesimal beat of time. This was not the Kat he’d known. And he was no longer that love-struck boy.

“Seth,” she said. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Same here.”

Kat looked from him to Susan who had appeared in the doorway between the kitchen and living room.

“Kat, honey.” Susan, cheeks rosy from the heat, sounded a bit too chipper. “Come help me get supper on the table.”

With that, she plucked Kat’s shirtsleeve and guided her into the kitchen. Quiet, undecipherable conversation rose amidst the clamor of plates and pots and kitchen appliances.

“My wife up to something?” Danny asked.

The two men sat facing each other, the muted television flashing pictures of the evening news and weather. Danny held the remote in one hand, waiting for the sports report.

Seth gazed at the now-empty doorway. “I hope not.”

“Don’t hold it against her if she is. She means well. She worries about Kat.”

“She told me.”

“And you’re wondering why she’s dragging you into the fray?”

“Something like that.”

“Can’t say for sure, but I know this much. After their parents died in that wreck, Susan felt responsible for Kat, being the big sister and all. If Kat’s not happy, Susan wants to fix the problem, make things right.”

He remembered that about Susan. Any time he and Kat had had a disagreement, big sister had been the mediator trying to get them back together. She must have been bewildered in those last months when Kat and Seth drifted apart, too broken to repair.

“Then there’s the history between you and Kat. Suzie’s a romantic.”

A shudder of dread ran down Seth’s spine. He sat up straighter. “Spare me that.”

“You’re both single. Why not?”

None of your business, he wanted to say, but this was life in a small town. Everyone stuck his nose in everyone else’s business.

“As you said, we have history. Friends, yes. Anything else, uh-uh.” His lousy track record spoke for itself. “I’m sure Kat would say the same.”

The woman in question chose that moment to come out of the kitchen. “Dinner is on. You guys wash up.”

Susan stepped up beside Kat. Seth couldn’t help noticing the differences in the two women were more than physical. An ever-present joy shone from Susan’s blue eyes while Kat looked tense and a little sad.

Susan yelled up the staircase, “Kids! Supper. Sadie, put that cat outside.” She pulled a face at Seth. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to break your eardrums.”

Seth grinned back. Susan was as likable as her husband.

After a trip to the sink, Seth joined the Renfros at the big family-style table. A feast was laid out before them.

“Seth, you sit here.” Susan said, indicating a place beside the only boy child, Jon. Kat was already seated on the other side of the table with Shelby at one elbow and an empty space at the other. “I hope you like pork tenderloin and mushroom gravy.”

He slid the napkin into his lap. “A man alone likes anything he doesn’t have to cook or buy at a restaurant, but this looks and smells amazing.”

Little Sadie climbed into the chair beside her aunt. Kat scooted the child closer to the table and, with an indulgent smile, handed her a napkin.

“Bow your heads, kids,” Danny said and waited until the room was quiet before giving thanks.

Though glad for the food and the friendship, Seth ached with a renewed sense of loss. His own family, though much smaller, had once shared this same routine.

He opened his eyes to take in the picture of what a Christian family was meant to be. Kat sat, eyes open, staring down at her plate. She must have felt his stare because she looked up.

The old Kat would have winked or made a face. This one gave a cynical twist of her lips that made him sad.

After the prayer, an abundance of food moved in an orderly fashion around the table. Fresh radishes and wilted leaf lettuce from Susan’s garden. Fluffy mashed potatoes and buttery hot rolls.

Conversation flowed around the table with the food, easy and comfortable. Talk of the lake, the town, the high school baseball team. Seth relaxed and joined in, as did Kat. The evening was turning out better than he’d expected.

In fact, he found himself waiting for the times when Kat would comment and listening for the things that made her laugh. Kat didn’t laugh as much as she used to, but when she did, the sound was rich and throaty and came from her heart.

Kat had a big heart.

Or she once did. What did he know of her now?

And why couldn’t he stop thinking about her, stop watching her, stop waiting for those times when their gazes collided? Susan and her innuendoes had gotten to him.

Eventually, the conversation turned to the break-ins, something he could sink his teeth into. Anything to stop thinking about the woman who’d jilted him.

“Any news on that front, Seth?” Danny asked.

Seth shook his head. The episodes were troubling but not violent. Still, he wanted to see an end to them. “I sent the fingerprints from the Millers’ house to the state lab, but there was no record found.”

“Figures,” Kat said. “If kids are responsible, their prints wouldn’t be recorded in the state files.”

“I think our vandals are weekenders,” Susan added as she passed Seth another roll. “The trouble always happens on weekends.”

Seth didn’t bother to point out that kids had more free time on weekends, too, even though he tended to agree with her assessment that someone other than locals was responsible. Anyway, he hoped so.