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She took his hand. “If you give me your heart and soul, then that is everything.”
Liam searched her face. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
He paused for what felt like an eternity. Finally, he reached out and drew her to him. “Well, then.”
“Yes?” Cora held her breath. Hope fluttered in her chest like a caged bird. “We’ll go away together?”
He nodded, and his smile was like a spark of light in the surrounding darkness. “Onward we go, Captain Cora.”
When he bent to kiss her, Cora was overcome by a fierce sense of joy. For the first time, she saw the future stretched out before her with glowing optimism. He loved her, and she loved him. They would carve out a life together any way they could, and it would be enough. It would be more than enough. It would be everything.
Present Day
Cora woke gasping. Her heart was galloping in her chest. She sat up slowly, blinking into the darkened room. Frowning, she tried to remember the fading remnants of the dream she’d been having. Liam had been in it; she knew that much. It wasn’t the first time she’d dreamed of him, but this one felt different. As usual, the harder she tried to remember the details, the faster they slipped away. All she knew for certain was that she’d been gloriously happy. They’d been laughing together. If only that were the case in real life. A pang of guilt lanced through her. She’d kicked him out when he had nowhere else to go last night. She’d tossed him aside. Cora groaned and dropped her head into her hands. She knew her actions were justified, but still. Why did everything with him have to feel so complicated?
The following day across the city, Liam trudged down the street heading in no particular direction. He’d been trying to figure a way out of the mess he was in, but he wasn’t having any luck. Like the progression of his earthly task so far, he was going nowhere.
“Hey, brother. Can you help me out with a dollar for bus fare? I’m trying to get to my bank job.” A homeless man held out his hand as Liam passed. The man wore an outdated, threadbare business suit several sizes too big. His greasy hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, and his battered briefcase looked like it hadn’t seen an honest day’s work in decades.
Liam wondered if the man knew how flimsy his act was, considering it was a Sunday afternoon, and most people weren’t commuting to work at that time. Most bankers also didn’t wear worn-out sneakers with their suits, nor did they smell like a distillery—at least, not on their way to work. After work was anyone’s guess. Liam pulled money from his pocket and offered it to him.
The man thanked him, stuffed the bills in his pocket, then ambled away in the opposite direction of the bus stop. By the looks of it, he was headed toward the old liquor store on the corner, but Liam wasn’t surprised. If the man needed a pick-me-up to get through his day, who was he to judge? After checking into his old motel, Liam had spent many sleepless hours pacing in agitation. He’d considered drowning his demons in a bottle of whiskey again, then decided against it. No amount of liquid sunshine was going to help brighten the dark sense of despair that now clung to him.
Getting kicked out of Cora’s house felt like the final nail in his coffin. No matter how he tried to spin his situation, he couldn’t think of a way back into her good graces, if he’d ever been there at all. He’d spent the remainder of the night outside his motel room on a lounge chair by the pool. Though he couldn’t see the stars, it had still felt good to lie out under the open sky. The old motel had been the first place he’d stayed when he arrived in Providence Falls, and ironically, it was the closest thing he had to a home.
It was early in the afternoon now, and he was taking a walk to clear his head. Stopping at a run-down park several blocks down the street, he took a path skirting a duck pond. He ignored the Sunday joggers who zipped past in brightly colored athletic gear. This area might’ve been what Cora called the older “seedy part of town,” but it was still far shinier than Liam’s village back in Ireland. A sharp pang of sadness overcame him. So much had been lost to the passage of time. Everyone he remembered from his old life was long dead now, and there was no one left who truly knew him. Especially not here.
In the past, Liam always thought he’d had nothing. His family had been hungry more often than not. They’d barely been able to keep a roof over their heads, and they’d spent many winters huddled together, freezing in that dark, tiny cottage because they’d had to ration candles and firewood. But he’d had friends back in Ireland, rowdy and unethical as they were. He’d had family. He’d had neighbors who knew him since he was a boy. Everything there had been familiar. Liam might have come from nothing, but at least he knew where he belonged. They were all poor and destitute, but they were poor and destitute together. Here, his only connection was Cora, and yesterday when she’d sent him away, he’d felt as if his last lifeline had been severed. Her rejection had hurt worse than starving. Almost worse than... He rubbed the phantom burn around his neck, sinking onto a park bench with a heavy sigh. No. Nothing was worse than the day he’d truly lost everything.
Scraggly ducks pecked around in the grass near Liam’s feet. A couple strode past, hand in hand, the woman laughing as the man pulled her closer. Liam sagged back and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. What now? The angels had made it clear they weren’t going to help him get out of this mess. He had no idea if Cora was still on his side, but it wasn’t looking good. There wasn’t a single person Liam could think of who could help. Margaret was grieving the death of her husband, and she wanted nothing to do with him. He couldn’t ask Cora’s father, Hugh, for help. In truth, Liam barely knew the man, and even if Hugh wanted to help, he was retired and lived hours away. There wasn’t much he’d be able to do.
A lone figure stood at the water’s edge, tossing bread to the ducks. Liam watched as the kid sprinkled breadcrumbs. Something about the skinny silhouette, narrow shoulders and baggy basketball shorts looked familiar.
Liam leaned forward and squinted at the kid’s profile. “Billy Mac?”
The boy glanced over his shoulder, startled. His face lit up when he saw Liam, then he blushed scarlet, shoving a hunk of bread in his jacket pocket. He looked almost guilty, as if getting caught feeding the ducks embarrassed him.
Billy walked toward him with his trademark swagger. “What’s up, Liam?” His normally pale face was mottled with a dark bruise on his eye that spread across his cheekbone.
“Billy, what happened to your face?” Liam asked.
“Just a scuffle,” Billy said, rubbing the back of his head. “No big.”
“We match.” Liam pointed to his own fading bruises.
“Dang. Who clocked you?”
Liam knew he had to play this right if he was going to get Billy to talk. The boy reminded Liam so much of his brother’s kids back in Ireland. Liam felt fiercely protective of him. “You go first.”
Billy forced a laugh, then shook his head and stared out at the pond. “Nah. Nobody likes a snitch, you know what I mean?”
“Sure.” Liam didn’t want to push the kid, so instead he tried a different tactic. He eased back on the bench and pretended to watch the ducks. “This has been a week from hell, and the fight I got into was nothing compared to everything else. Talk about crazy.”
Billy’s eyes sparked with interest. “What happened?”
Liam shrugged.
