Page 81 of Hero's Heart

“You’ll see.” His voice was steady, though his chest felt tight. “There’s something I want to show you.”

She didn’t press further, and they continued walking until the soft rush of water reached their ears. The trees parted, revealing a small waterfall cascading into a clear pool. Callum wished she could see this place when the sun lit it in golden hues rather than the grays from the incoming rain. But he stepped forward, gesturing to the edge of the water where a neat stack of smooth stones rested.

Sloane followed his gaze, her brows knitting together. “What is this?”

“This is Amelia’s grave. Or, that’s what I call it.” His voice was quiet. This was a reverent place to him. He turned to Sloane, his hands slipping into his pockets. “She’s actually buried in her family’s plot in Virginia. But I needed a place closer where I could come when I needed to talk to her. Or just…think.”

Sloane’s gaze lingered on the stones, her expression unreadable. “Because you still love her.”

It wasn’t a question, and Callum didn’t treat it like one.

“I’ll always love Amelia.”

He saw pain float over Sloane’s features before she hid it, so he continued quickly. This was what he’d come here to say. What he’d realized over the past few days.

“But I’m not…in lovewith her anymore. It took me a long time to get here, but I know now that holding on to Amelia like that—it wasn’t fair to her memory. Or to me.”

For years, he’d been using Amelia as an excuse not to let any woman—any person at all—get too close. But Sloane and her quiet strength had slipped under his defenses without his even realizing it.

Sloane continued to stare at the stack of the memorial stones, rubbing the heel of her palm against her chest. “I’m not like Amelia at all, I don’t think. From everything you’ve told me about her, she was confident and witty. She lit up every room she walked into. Tall and blonde and beautiful. I’m not like that. I’m…quiet.Plain.”

“Plain?” Callum’s voice sharpened. He reached out, gently tipping her chin up so she had to look at him. “Woman, you’reanythingbut plain. You’re striking. Breathtaking. And my not being able to keep my hands off you for more than five minutes over the past week should be proof of that.”

“Yeah, but?—”

“And no, you’re not as boisterous as Amelia was, but that doesn’t mean you don’t light up a room when you enter. It’s just in a different way. Amelia’s light was unavoidable but sometimes jarring. Your light is soft and inclusive and offers a comforting glow to everyone it touches.”

“I’ll still never be asmuchas her.” Sloane shook her head. “In all the ways. Personality or even physically. She was so tall and statuesque. I’m short.”

He ran his hands down to her shoulders, unable to stop the smile pulling at his lips. “Let me tell you a secret. Amelia would’ve been jealous of your height.”

“What? Why? I’m, like, five foot two.”

“She used to be self-conscious because she was so tall. She was five-nine and towered over almost everyone. When she woreheels, she was taller than me. She would’ve been envious of your petiteness. She would’ve admired your delicate features.”

“Really?”

“One hundred percent. And more than that, she would’ve liked you, angel. As a person.”

Sloane’s lips parted slightly, her breath catching. “You think so?”

His eyes softened. “I know she would’ve. Amelia would’ve loved your strength. Your courage. The way you find beauty in the world, even after everything you’ve been through. And she would’ve admired the way you care about people. The way you care about me.”

He paused, his voice growing quieter. “She would’ve seen what I see. What I can’t seem to stay away from, no matter how much I’ve tried. I know I’m too old for you, too gruff. You deserve someone younger. Someone who can give you the kind of life you’ve always dreamed of.”

To his surprise, Sloane let out a choked laugh, tears spilling over. “You think I want someone younger? Callum, I don’t care about that. You make me feel safe. You make me feelseen.”

He wrapped his arms around her to pull her against him, but she resisted, stepping back. “And that’s why I need to tell you something. Something that might change how you see me.”

His brows knitted together, concern flashing in his eyes. “What is it?”

She hesitated, her fingers tightening around his. “You need to know that I’m a criminal.”

Of all the things she could’ve possibly said to him, that was probably the last thing he expected. “What do you mean, a criminal? What kind of?—”

“I’m a thief.” Sloane took a deep, shaky breath, her gaze dropping to the stones at their feet. She closed her eyes, as if bracing herself for a blow.

He tried to wrap his brain around exactly what she was saying. Did she mean she’d shoplifted or something? That didn’t sound like the woman who’d been concerned about taking clothes off the line in Moldova, but even someone as good and nice as Sloane could’ve made some errors in judgment in her past.

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