Page 54 of Muskoka Miracle


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The way Boyd was carrying on suggested he wouldn’t stop. Dog with a bone, was he. But Sam’s face suggested he was getting agitated, and that a change of subject was necessary.

“So, Sam, how are things going with Alexa?” she asked.

But judging from the tightness in his face, this line of questioning wasn’t much better. “She wanted me to commit, but I wasn’t ready, so we’re on another break.”

“You’re nearly thirty, Sam. When are you going to be ready?” Dan asked.

Sam shot him a look. “You didn’t even date until my age.”

“Because I was waiting for perfection,” Dan said, kissing her hand.

“And then when he didn’t find it, he settled for me,” Sarah joked, which scored a laugh from the others.

“Nobody is perfect, only God,” Boyd said.

Sam rolled his eyes as Dan smothered a smile.

Sarah bit back one of her own and nodded. “That’s very true. Oh well. It’s a good thing God loves us anyway, isn’t it?”

Boyd grunted, which she took as an affirmation. “So, what do you think next year’s camp will look like?”

“Next year?” Dan groaned. “Come on, Princess. My body is so sore from this year I’m going to need twelve months to forget how much pain I’m in.”

Concern panged. “You’re that sore?” He certainly hadn’t seemed that way when he’d first arrived home.

He sighed, and she suddenly saw new little lines in his face. Had the camp put those there? Or had the trials of the past few years been responsible for this added ‘character’?

“You are getting older now,” Boyd said. “And I have to agree that it’s not quite the same at thirty-five as when we were ten years younger.”

“Thirty-five?” Dan protested. “Speak for yourself, man.”

“Look, I’m just saying that none of us are getting any younger. And, look, I didn’t want to say this now, but I suppose I should, Jo and I are expecting a little bundle of joy this Christmas—”

Her heart cramped.

“—and I don’t know if I can commit to doing next year.”

“Congratulations,” Dan said.

She echoed it, stealing a glance at Dan. He was pale, but seemed determined to not let anything of their frustrations spoil Boyd’s moment. So, neither would she.

But as Boyd went on and on about it, it grew harder to pretend not to care. She tried to remind herself to be thankful, that God loved her, which helped somewhat. But still, he kept talking.

She peeked at Dan, saw his arms folded and brow puckered. She half-smiled at him, he half-smiled back, but the pain in his eyes reflected that living in her heart.

Then finally Boyd turned to Dan and said, “So, when are you two going to get on with starting a family?”

Grief slashed her chest, and she pressed her lips together.

Boyd lifted his chin at Sarah. “I suppose you’re too busy with all your Heartsong things to want to give that up any time soon.”

Oh, if only that were the case. She’d give it up in a heartbeat if she could. She blinked back tears. Saw through blurry eyes that Dan’s jaw was clenched, and that Sam kept glancing between them.

She fake-coughed. Stitched a smile to her dial and stood. “Can I get anyone some dessert?”

“I’ll help you.” Dan got up, and they moved to the kitchen, then wrapped their arms around each other.

She closed her eyes as the heartache from earlier faded in Dan’s arms. He might be in pain, but his arms remained strong, his chest was sturdy, his heart was sure. Moments like this felt like they were Team Walton, Dan and Sar against the world. Not that they were against the world, or the world was against them, but just being together, understanding, standing together, was a real blessing.