Chapter 47
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Sam stood on his boatafter two hours of cleaning everything he could. He even polished all the cleats on the dock for this side of the marina. That frowny woman from the office had stepped out to watch him.
He’d smiled and waved.
She turned around and went back inside.
He looked around the deck that still had maintenance work to do, but his heart wasn’t up to a major task yet. He couldn’t use the excuse he wasn’t healed. His arm and side were fine after a week of Angie’s fussing and cooking.
He’d hated the fear he’d seen in her eyes when he walked in wounded.
She’d hugged him and shook with emotion. Once he told her what he could, iron-willed woman that she was, she told him she would never divulge anything he said so long as he let her know when he would be gone each time.
She wanted his agreement that Clercville was his home.
He’d taken a second thinking then nodded, saying, “I like that this is home for me.”
Since then, she griped at him when he tried to fix the rest of the trim on the inn this week. That would change next week.
That’s why he’d been cleaning on the boat today.
She’d kicked him out to get fresh air.
He could stand only so much fresh air when he had to breathe it alone. Stepping up on the dock, he walked down to the end and sat with his legs dropped over the side. The eastern horizon had little left to do except grow darker with bands of red and purple.
A different story behind him where the sun was exhausted after shining all day and hurried to set.
His chest ached. Not from an injury, well maybe. Just not a bullet or knife wound. He’d had a slice of happiness for almost a week, even in the middle of danger, and he missed it.
Missed her smile.
Missed her curly hair.
Missed the way she made him feel.
