Kate’s throat tightened with gratitude. She thought about Jeffrey, who had taken their daughter’s personal nightmare and made it worse. Jeffrey had never once, in the entirety of their marriage, responded to a crisis with anything other than analysis of who was at fault.
And then she thought about her father.
Artie would have handled this exactly the way Eli was handling it. He would have listened first. He would have been gentle. He would have found the words that made you feel safe instead of small, because Arthur Wylie had believed—truly, deeply believed—that the people he loved deserved patience more than correction.
Kate had married Jeffrey because he was safe and stable and logical, all the things she valued in her own personality. But safeand stable and logical had not been enough when Emma needed warmth and grace and a father who could sit with her pain instead of punishing her for it.
She’d married the wrong kind of steady. She was looking at the right kind now. The realization rocked her a little.
“I want her to learn that,” she told him. “In fact, I’m glad it happened if this opens her eyes up to the value of a good man.”
Because it certainly was opening hers up to that value…and the man in front of her.
He nodded, looking like he was about to say something, then caught himself.
“What?” she prodded.
He shook his head. “Nothing. It’s…never mind.”
“Eli.”
“It’s a God thing,” he admitted with a smile.
“Hit me with it,” she said with a light laugh.
“Okay.” He took a breath and steadied his gaze. “I believe God allows bad things to happen to us as a way to bring us wisdom and clarity and closer to Him.”
Well, she didn’t. But she swallowed any argument.
“She might be reluctant at first,” she said instead. “She was nervous about you knowing at all but agreed to talk to you if I thought it was a good idea.”
“You do?” he asked.
“Yes.” She leaned into his strong shoulder, relief and appreciation washing over her. “I have no doubt it’s a good idea.”
Atlas let out a small cough, then settled again. Eli reached to his tiny, socked foot and stroked it with a touch so light and loving it ripped her heart out.
“I’ll let her come to me,” he said. “When she’s ready. If she doesn’t, that’s okay. Her call.”
The sting of tears caught Kate off guard. She blinked it back, adjusting her glasses the way she always did when she needed a moment—a lifelong habit that Eli had probably already decoded.
“You know,” she said, “when everything happened with Emma, before I even thought about what to do or who to call, the first person I wanted to talk to was you.”
“You should have told me.”
“I had to clear it with her,” she replied. “But I really wanted to talk to you.”
“That’s nice.” He took her hand and drew her knuckles to his lips, smiling through the kiss at her.
She looked at him with the sun in his silver-streaked hair and the quiet faith that sometimes frustrated her—and suddenly he felt like the most solid thing in her world. He was the very definition of a good man.
If that meant she had to accept his religion as part of the package? How bad a deal was that, really?
Three days into the Lakeside project and Meredith had already designed two custom elevation revisions, finished the optional bonus room floor plan for the Sanibel model, and had started the preliminary sketches for the pool house and gym.
She rarely looked up from the dual monitors displaying her Revit software, which meant she was lost in work, one of her favorite places to be.
When she did take a thirty-second break, she couldn’t help but notice the new digs were just about perfect, which was not a word she used lightly.
