Page 28 of Be Courageous

“I want to go to the Outer Banks this summer.”

She smiled at him. “Me, too.” He’d refused to go the previous summer. And between their move and starting up her new business, she hadn’t insisted. “Let’s do it.”

“Fitz should come, too, so he can help with Mary Mae. I’ll keep an eye on Olivia.”

The offering of help was so unlike the sullen behavior he’d exhibited before his disappearance. Faith pressed a quick kiss on her son’s grimy cheek. “You’re a good big brother.”

He paused reflectively. “I will be.”

* * *

That afternoon, Brian Sutton fought to get the ax out of the log he was splitting. Moving the handle of the ax up and down, he refrained from cursing and thought, again, about what had happened just a few hours before.

Just as he’d suspected, though far sooner than he’d thought possible, the FBI and a state policeman had descended on his house. Not wanting any more trouble than necessary, he’d come out with his hands in the air, lamenting that he hadn’t found the courage to shoot himself.

A ginger-haired agent with a gentle light in his green eyes had given him the shock of his life while informing him that he wasn’t under arrest. He’d asked if they could go inside, just the two of them. There, he’d asked questions that had brought Brian to tears as he confessed to abducting Grayson, to putting him in his trunk, and restraining him with rope when he tried to escape.

The agent had seemed impressed by Grayson’s resourcefulness as Brian described how he’d discovered the boy’s cell phone under his seat and how Grayson had cut off the zip ties and escaped from a second-story bedroom by climbing down a tree.

“Brave kid,” the agent had remarked.

“Yeah. He got to me. It’s hard to want to hurt a kid like that. So, I guess you’re gonna arrest me now.” After all, he had just confessed.

The agent drew a deep breath and said, “No. No, the boy and his mother have declined to press charges. You’re still a free man, Brian.”

The astonishment he’d felt at hearing those words humbled him, still. Imagine if he’d actually shot himself. He would never have known the grace that he was now receiving.

Jerry Saunders had robbed him of his life and his son. But Grayson Saunders had showed him mercy. Humbled, remorseful, and unable to free the ax, Brian sank to his knees on the soft soil and dropped his head into his work-roughened hands.

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry, kid.” He sobbed out the words. “I’m just a bitter, old fool.”

His tears seemed to scald his cold cheeks. As he went to wipe them away, a dry leaf crackled under a stealthy footfall. Brian whipped his face in the direction of the sound. Not ten yards away stood a beagle, shivering in the cold. They regarded each other for the longest time.

“Well, hey, little guy,” Brian finally crooned. It appeared to be male. “You lost?” Brian held out a hand, worried if he stood up, the pup would bolt. It probably belonged to some hunter, though given that Brian could see the dog’s ribs under his brown-and-white coat, he’d been lost for some time. “You look hungry. Come here, boy. I can feed you.”

To his delight, the beagle’s tail began to wag. He came straight toward him as if he’d known Brian all his life.

Still on his knees, Brian stroked the dog’s broad head, while inspecting his faded red collar for a tag. Nothing. He looked directly into the dog’s soft brown eyes and knew: This dog was for him.

“Let’s go inside, little fella. I got plenty of firewood for now. Come on.” He kept a hand on the dog’s collar just in case, but it didn’t pull away as he stood, prompting Brian to let go. He started for the door, and the pup fell into step next to him.

A minute later, he had filled a bowl with scraps from his refrigerator. “There you go.” The beagle homed in on it.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you, Tommy?”

In the act of wolfing down his food, the beagle stopped and looked up at him. Brian’s eyes filled with grateful tears. So this was what it felt like to be forgiven.

EPILOGUE

The sun shone hot on Grayson’s back as he helped Olivia scrape out a moat for her sandcastle. The Atlantic Ocean rushed toward them, just feet away, before retreating. It was hard to believe that two short years ago, his father would have been the one to help Olivia, whom he’d dubbed the family artist. Grayson would have been riding the run up on his skim board, waiting for his father’s attention, never realizing Jerry’s days were numbered.

His father would be proud of him for how he’d changed, though. Now Grayson lived like every second counted. On February first, he’d asked Fitz for Brian Sutton’s address, and he’d sent him a greeting card. Every day and on weekends, he and Cameron mucked out the barn together. While Cameron got paid, Grayson had requested that his pay be deposited into his college fund. And since he wasn’t sulking at school anymore, his grades were better, and he’d made a bunch of new friends.

Hearing soft footfalls in the sand, Grayson imagined for just a moment that his dad was about to join them. When he glanced over to see Fitz wearing a huge straw hat and a white, long-sleeved shirt over khaki shorts, he sent him a sincere smile, though it was hard not to tease the man for protecting his fair skin at the beach.

Fitz’s shadow folded over him as he inspected their castle. “Wow. When can I move in?”

Olivia cast him a proud grin, while displaying the gap where her missing canines used to be. “Wanna help?”

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