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Sarah closed her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s just the next-door neighbor.”
* * *
Dan couldn’t helpbut overhear that last comment and wonder why her words…hurt. Not that he liked her or anything. He rolled his eyes—how grade-school did that sound? But still, he thought they’d reached friends status, at least. He focused on carefully scraping away the last of the fish remains as Sarah hung up the phone and limped over.
“Thanks for that.”
“Bet your family were glad to hear from you.”
“Yes. I miss them too.” Her accent had gotten crisper in the last hour. Cute.
“Anytime you want to call, help yourself.”
“Thank you. They might not like it if I call anytime, though. These time differences are crazy, morning there while it’s night here.” She grinned, tilting her head. “May I ring Ange now? I don’t feel too bad asking, knowing you’re sorich.” The tease was back in her eyes, along with something else he didn’t recognize.
“Knock yourself out.”
After talking briefly, she hung up. “They’re coming back tomorrow.”
“Good. Someone needs to keep an eye on you.”
“I’m not a child. I don’t need—”
“Anyone who gets injured like that needs looking after. And I’ll be at camp.”
She paused. Her smile grew. “Of course you will be. I should go so you can get some sleep before you gocamping.”
“I’ll drive you. It’s stopped raining but it’s pretty slippery out there. I don’t want you hurting yourself, especially now I know it’s your specialty.”
“I don’t plan for it to happen—it just does. But I’m happy to walk. I’m tougher than I look.”
Yeah. Those puffy bandages sure added credence to her claim for toughness.
They walked—slowly—through deep twilight to the cottage. When they finally reached her door, he was surprised at his reluctance to go. “Take care of yourself, okay?”
“You too. Enjoy the great outdoors.” Her smile lit up her whole face.
Oh man. “G’night.”
He stretched out the tightness in his shoulders and walked down to the dock. Thank God he headed north tomorrow to set up the campsite. Spending time with Boyd, Patrik, and the boys would be good—his neighbor was way too distracting. Ignoring the damp, he lay on the boards, staring at the couple of stars not obscured by the clouds, and spent some time talking with God.
* * *
Two hourson the piano pouring out her heart in worship was uplifting, but now her muscles complained. Sarah did her prescribed exercises, completed laundry, started dinner. The fish Dan had cooked last night had tasted so delicious she’d begged for the recipe, determined to try it out tonight.
John and Ange pulled in just after she’d placed the trout stuffed with Asian vegetables in the oven. After hugs hello—and appeasing Ange’s concern at Sarah’s injuries—Sarah made tea and they sat at the dining table, John and Ange filling her in on their time away. They’d visited Doris in hospital, her improved condition releasing them to spend a few days near pretty Stratford for their wedding anniversary.
“Definitely worth visiting the festival if you like Shakespeare,” Ange said.
John massaged his neck. “But that trip in peak hour isn’t fun coming home.”
Ange sipped her tea. “You’re looking happier, Blue.”
“I do feel better. I think that cry was cathartic.” That seemed so long ago now. “And it’s so peaceful here, I think it’s rubbing off.”
“I’m sure women need to have a good cry every so often to cleanse the soul and get rid of the cobwebs.” Ange patted Sarah’s hand. “If you haven’t cried for a while, that’s a lot of cobwebs.”
“There’s a few less now. Make that a lot less,” Sarah added with a chuckle.
