“And my grandfather.” He pressed his lips tight, watching as a library worker exited the building and headed for the nearly vacant parking lot. “Let’s just say the D-word is frowned upon in religious circles—even when one party wasn’t at fault and wanted nothing to do with it.”
Like his mother. She’d filed for divorce from his father, understandably so after word of the affair became public. But Dad hadn’t tried to stop her, and their congregation at the time hadn’t rallied around any of them.
But now they were getting dangerously close to the details of that event, the same event that had indirectly ended his and Elisa’s perfect summer together. Were they really going to go there after all this time? He couldn’t decide if the idea was necessary or foolish.
Elisa’s hands stilled around the coin. “So you’re not mad at God. You’re mad at the church.”
That wasn’t where he thought she was taking the conversation.
He automatically started to deny the claim, then paused as her words rolled around his heart. “Maybe I am.” Finding Grandpa’s Bible had clearly stirred up old resentment he’d long left undisturbed.
Elisa’s expression sobered. “What went on at the church?”
He let out a slow breath. “The congregation didn’t exactly help my family out when Grandma and Grandpa split.” A fog of memory swept through his mind. “There were a lot of whispers and not-so-discreet pointing.”
Long dress hems and shuffling feet. Grandpa, head held high in his best suit. But he hadn’t lasted long, had he?
Noah felt the bittersweet smile coming before it grazed his lips. “After that, most of my childhood Sunday mornings consisted of store-bought donuts, pirate-watching from the roof, and cardboard surfing down the lobby stairs.” No more clip-on ties or Grandpa attempting to swipe Noah’s cowlick down with a wet finger. As a kid, he hadn’t minded in the least.
Now…he wondered what he’d missed. If he’d have had faith like Elisa’s if he’d kept going.
Elisa smiled back. “Your grandpa seemed fun.”
“He is.” Noah coughed against the knot that was back. “Was.”
“I guess things weren’t any better when your parents followed suit with their divorce.” She shifted on the edge of the fountain, tilting her head toward him.
“Yeah, and as you and everyone knows, that was for much more scandalous reasons. By then, people didn’t even bother to whisper.”
“That’s awful.”
“That’s why my mom moved us to north Louisiana so quickly.” Noah stood abruptly, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Isn’t church the place where people are supposed to be themostloving? Theleastjudgmental?”
“I think so, but people disappoint.” Elisa shrugged as she looked up at him. “That was a long time ago, right? Pastor Todd wouldn’t have been there then.”
“No, he wasn’t. I’ve met him briefly through Owen, but I haven’t heard him preach yet.” Of course, he didn’t plan to take the time now, either. Not until the inn was up and running, mold-free. Which meant either finishing this treasure hunt or getting his loan—whichever happened first.
Still sitting in front of him, Elisa silently met his gaze and reached for his hand.
He hesitantly allowed her touch, watching as she turned his palm up and pressed his fingers out flat. Then she set the penny in the middle of his hand. “Maybe you should try again.”
He snorted, even as that familiar weight pressed behind his eyes and into his throat. He swallowed. “Prayer? Or church?”
She gently closed his fingers around the coin. “Why not both?”
* * *
Noah’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, and Elisa had the sudden thought to press a kiss against it.
She quickly released his hand and stood, putting a little distance between them along the fountain edge as the tree frogs began to sing their evening chorus. Noah had made it clear the other night at the inn that their near-kiss was a mistake. And hadn’t she all but agreed when talking with Delia at Chug a Mug? Two old friends connecting over shared trauma did not have to mean anything more.
Even if hearing Noah’s childhood hurt made her want to wrap her arms around him and hug him until the pain went away.
“What about you?” Noah kept his fist closed around the penny, avoiding her gaze—or maybe she was avoiding his—as he edged toward the water. His navy cap was pulled low, preventing her from seeing much of his expression. “Do you go to church regularly?”
She opened her mouth, then slowly closed it. This was her turn to reciprocate. She owed him that much. But opening up about her mom…about culinary school and Trey…about her dad…it would all create an emotional firestorm that he didn’t want to hear.
No one ever did. Except Delia.