Linda Goodnight - A Time To Heal

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.