She smiled then, a genuine smile that chased the shadows from her face, and for an instant, he was reminded of the time he’d gone cliff diving in Mexico, the dizzy, breathtaking moment he’d kicked away from solid ground and fallen out into space—praying the whole way down.

“I’m willing to wait,” he said quietly.

Her smile flickered and went out. “I’m not sure I’m worth the wait. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a bit of a wreck right now. Lots of baggage.”

He leaned in then, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll risk it.”

THIRTY-FOUR

Sweetwater, Virginia

July 4, 2017

With the exception of Christmas, Independence Day was by far Sweetwater’s favorite holiday, and this year, Christy-Lynn found herself smack-dab in the middle of the festivities. It was hard not to get caught up in the enthusiasm as she scanned the crowd gathered on the drilling green to witness the annual reading of the Declaration of Independence.

She was looking for Missy and the boys when she spotted Wade just a few yards away, his phone to his ear. He ended the call when he spotted her, smiling as he made his way over.

“Fancy meeting you here.” He nodded toward her American flag tank top. “I see you dressed for the occasion.”

“I did.” She smiled as she surveyed the crowd. “It’s nice, isn’t it? Taking time to remember what it’s all about, hearing the words read aloud. Even the kids seem to love it.”

Wade nodded as he followed her gaze. “I’d forgotten how much this town loves the Fourth. My grandfather used to bring me when I was a kid. I’d pretend I was bored, too cool for parades, but I loved it. I think he knew. Not much got past the old man.”

They were meandering toward the sidewalk now, flowing with the throng of families scouting shady spots to watch the parade. Christy-Lynn grinned as a pair of twins wearing matching yellow sunglasses scampered past. “Did you come from a big family?”

“Not big. One sister, but we were close. My father died when I was three. I don’t really remember him. My mom still has pictures of him everywhere, so I have a memory of his face, or at least what feels like a memory.”

“I’m sorry.”

Wade shrugged. “You can’t miss what you never had.”

She shot him a quick glance. “You don’t think so?”

Another shrug. “Maybe it’s because I had my grandfather. He stepped in when my mother went back to work and sort of took me under his wing. What about you? What was your family like?”

“I didn’t have a family,” she said bluntly. “It was just my mother and me.”

“Two people can’t be a family?”

She could feel his eyes and knew he was waiting for an explanation. Instead, she pointed across the street where a vendor with a shiny metal cart was hawking frozen lemonade. “I’m hot. How about you?”

She didn’t wait for an answer before dashing across the street, winding her way through the throng until she reached the cart. She ordered two and handed one to Wade. “Happy Fourth of July.”

As if on cue, the Sweetwater High School marching band began moving down the center of Main Street, kicking off the parade with a warbling rendition of “The Stars and Stripes Forever.”

Stephen had taken her to see the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade once, not long after they were married. She had been dazzled, overwhelmed by the seemingly endless sights and sounds. But now, as she watched Sweetwater’s homegrown procession of toilet paper floats and sequined majorettes move past, she couldn’t remember ever feeling such delight. In fact, she almost hated to see it end, cheering and clapping along with the rest of the crowd as the parade moved off down Main Street.

“That was so much fun!”

Wade took her empty cup, tossing it into a nearby trash can. “What are you doing later?”

Christy-Lynn shielded her eyes as she looked up at him. “I’ve been toying with starting a book club at the store. I was going to work on a flyer to help gauge interest. Why?”

“I’ve been thinking about your offer to look at my manuscript, and I think I’d like to take you up on it. You could come by a little later. It’s my turn to cook.”

The invitation took Christy-Lynn by surprise. When she made the offer to look at his manuscript, she hadn’t really thought about what might happen if he accepted. Nor had she considered the possible fallout if the book turned out to be bad. She’d been coaching writers long enough to know that many who claimed to want the truth actually wanted anything but.

“In the interest of full disclosure, you should know I have a tendency to shoot from the hip,” she warned. “Are you sure that’s what you’re looking for?”

“If I was looking for a pat on the back, I’d just send it to my mother. I need to know if I’m wasting my time. And I promise to let you off the hook if you decide it’s just too terrible to read. At least you’ll get a meal out of it.”

“All right. I’ll be there around six. That’ll give me a few hours to work on the flyer. Should I bring anything?”

He grinned sheepishly as he stepped off the curb, preparing to cross the street. “An open mind.”

Christy-Lynn was still feeling anxious as she pulled into Wade’s driveway. Stephen had made no bones about the fact that Wade was talented—or had been back when they were in college. But that was twenty years ago. Wade himself had admitted struggling to get his chops back. The question was had he succeeded, and if not, did she want to be the one to tell him?