The most romantic words she’d ever heard. Wren’s eyes filled.
Eddie reached out and flicked a tendril of her hair from her cheek. “I’ve gotten so used to you, it just about drove me crazy when you were with Troy. I realized if that went somewhere, we’d be ... well, over. At least the Eddie and Wren I’m used to.”
Wren couldn’t say anything.
“I’ve just ... gotten used to you,” Eddie stumbled to explain. He wasn’t a man of words.
“I’ve gotten used to you too,” Wren whispered.
The air was threaded with sparks. She’d never had sparks with Eddie before. Her mind quickly replayed the days when they were kids and came running into Patty’s kitchen with muddy shoes. She’d half holler at them to get out, all while setting fresh cookies on a plate for them. She remembered the time Eddie had told her to “suck it up” when one of her high-school boyfriends had broken up with her—probably for the same reason as Troy had—seeing what she and Eddie couldn’t see about themselves. She recalled the nights Eddie would help her recover from her nightmares. The ones that haunted her—the ones that made more sense now.
He leaned toward her, and Wren stilled. Her heart had stopped. She knew it had. She was surprised she was still conscious. Eddie paused a few inches away.
“I’d like to keep getting used to you,” he mumbled.
“Me too” was all she could manage.
He kissed her then. It was different. It was new. A thousandbutterflies took flight inside Wren. She had never once—never ever—never—okay, she had to be honest, deep down she’d always dreamed of this. She’d just never admitted it to herself, let alone to the rest of the world who already knew it.
Eddie slid from the chair arm, and they squeezed together on the seat. Wren shifted until she half sat on his lap. She swung the comforter out and over him, and they snuggled there for a long moment. Quiet. Together. In the legacy of Patty, of her faith, and of the home she had nurtured.
Wren couldn’t extinguish her smile or keep herself from looking toward the ceiling as if she could see through to heaven. She’d been found. In so many ways, Arwen Blythe had been found.
Someone cleared his throat in the doorway. Eddie and Wren both looked up to see Gary. His grin was reflective, and he chuckled. “It’s about time.”
Ava
“Your sister?” Ava rounded the corner into Noah’s church office.
Startled, he looked up from his studies, glasses perched on the tip of his nose. Glasses? When did he ever wear glasses before?
“What?” He was bewildered. Well, sure he was!
Ava planted her hands at her waist. “When were you goin’ to tell me Emmaline is your sister?”
Noah dropped his gaze to the Bible splayed on his desk.
Ava stomped forward and laid her palm on it, making Noah look up at her. She raised an eyebrow. “She wrote me, you know. Sent me a letter.”
“What!” Noah’s eyes widened, and sparked, and ... shucks, they were already ablaze.
“Sure. And she said you give everyone grace but yourself.”
“You don’t understand, Ava.” Noah pushed her hand off his Bible.
She slapped it back. “Don’t ‘You don’t understand’ me, Preacher Pritchard of Tempter’s Creek Church. You and your sermons and your righteous indignation that no one should blame me for nothin’, and you sit here blamin’ yourself over what happened to Emmaline?”
“Ava—”
“No. I’m not allowin’ it.” Ava pulled her hand back and rounded the desk.
Bewildered, Noah drew back as she approached. Brazenly, she grabbed his tie and yanked on it, forcing Noah to stumble to his feet. She pulled his face down until it was almost touching hers.
“I may not have killed no one in my lifetime, but I sure as shootin’ was never all that shy either. And I can tell you what you’re goin’ to do, Preacher. You’re goin’ to write that sister of yours you’ve been pinin’ after and fix that. Once that’s done, you’re goin’ to get a train ticket home and get yourself out of Tempter’s Creek back to where you belong. With your family.”
She released his tie, flipping it so its ends lay over his shoulder.
“You’ve no right to—”