40. George
George
Idrew Jacob outside as soon as he’d settled in.
A man like him belonged under open sky, and I hoped the fresh air would help him find his footing.
Even in the middle of Chicago, he was as steady and good-natured as I remembered.
We meandered along a shady lakeside path, our conversation slipping into place as naturally as the welcome breeze off the water.
“I’m sure Viola will be happy to see you tomorrow,” I said.
“I’ll be glad to see her.”
A flush rose beneath his sun-browned skin at the mention of her name.
I pressed a little. “Yes, I sensed a strong bond between you two when I found her in Harmony Lake.”
Jacob nodded and squinted toward Lake Michigan, which sparkled in the sunlight. “I have many greetings to pass on to her from my family, especially my sisters.”
I scanned the park—and there she was. White-blonde hair blazing in the sun.
No obnoxious golden curls beside her. No oaf.
Perfect. My pace quickened before I realized my feet were moving—fast enough to make my pulse thud.
She’d want to meet Jacob. He was my ace in the hole.
She wouldn’t ignore him. He’d never snapped at her.
I cupped a hand to my mouth. “Sarah.”
She turned.
Please, don’t ignore me. A prickle of dread slid between my shoulders. I waved with enough enthusiasm to make Jacob’s brows climb.
She hesitated for the count of three. Come on, luck, don’t fail me now.
Look at me.
Then she strode to meet us, smiling at Jacob. But her gaze flicked once and then twice to mine, quick as a heartbeat. Testing the waters. Easing back in. Blazes, it was good to see her smile.
“Sarah.” My voice came out strangled, and I cleared my throat. “Might I introduce Mr. Jacob Jensen?”
I tipped my head toward him. “You know—Viola’s Jacob.” Yes, there it was again, that telltale flush. “And Jacob, this lovely lady is Sarah Everson. Our next-door neighbor and dear friend.”
Hazel eyes widened at my introduction.
She reached for Jacob’s hand. “Viola has told me so many wonderful things about you. Welcome.”
When she let go, her gaze lifted to mine.
And stayed there—locked.
I’d waited weeks for her to look at me. I wasn’t sure what I’d hoped to see in her eyes, but it wasn’t the swirling melancholy that hit me like a punch to my gut. What was wrong? Don’t just stare at her—say something, you fool.
Her face flushed, and she was the first to turn away, back to Jacob. “Viola returns tomorrow and will be glad to see you.”
Jacob nodded. “Yes, I?—”
“Walk with us?” I asked, choking out the words like a boy at his first ball. I angled my elbow toward her.
She looked down as if surprised I possessed any appendages at all.
Jacob added his support. “Yes, please.”
Good man.
She took my arm with a feather-light touch that felt heavier between my ribs, and we started forward.
For seven lucky steps, I covered her fingertips with my free hand. Then I forced it back to swing at my side as we strolled. The July heat discombobulated me. Really ought to stay in the shade.
I peeked at her and mumbled, “Can we count you in for our dinner party on Saturday?”
Sarah ignored my question and leaned past my shoulder to ask Jacob, “Are you enjoying Chicago?”
“I only arrived this afternoon. But if all I see of Chicago is Lake Michigan, I’d call it an excellent trip.”
“I see it every day without really seeing it,” I said. I couldn’t tear my gaze from the woman on my arm. Why was she sad?
Jacob crunched along beside me. “I know there’s land over there past the horizon, but I can easily imagine a giant waterfall at the edge of the world. What must it be like to set off on one of those boats, trusting the course even when you can’t see the shore?”
Sarah said, “I prefer to watch from a distance. Don’t want to risk falling off any edges.”
She still hadn’t answered my invitation. Wasn’t she going to come? “I hope you can make it to the dinner,” I said, trying to sound casual. How could I convince her? “Jacob may have some exciting news to share.”
Jacob froze.
We stopped with him.
No flush on his face now. No color at all. His mouth opened twice before a single word escaped. “News?”
I waved my hand. “We’ll talk about it tonight.”
He nodded, and the flush crept back into place.
Still she said nothing. Fine. Time to dangle the oaf as bait. “Higginbotham will be there.”
Sarah made a noise and smothered it in a cough. What did that mean? “Yes, of course, George. I’ll be there.”
“Excellent.”
Jacob asked, “How long have you been neighbors?”
“Forever,” we said together.
I continued, “Viola and Sarah have been inseparable since childhood and have been tormenting me ever since.”
“More like retaliating for all the times you tormented us.”
“I still wonder which one of you caught all of those snails. The slime never came out of my shoes.”
“Snails? I know nothing of snails.”
“Yes, of course, you were practicing your music. The perfect alibi.”
I turned to Jacob. “Those two would pretend to practice their music whenever they pulled a prank. Must have gotten some real practicing in, too, for they’re both accomplished musicians.”
“We owe it all to you, George.”
“Know nothing of snails, hmm.” I leaned in. “Might have to educate you, Goldilocks.”
She flashed a smile. “Wasn’t snails. We caught slugs.”
With our laughter, a weight lifted from my chest and melted away in the July heat. Our shoulders grazed as we ambled along. I added an extra nudge, and she clung to my arm more tightly.
We entertained Jacob with tales of Viola’s childhood mischief. The sadness lingered at the edges of her eyes, but her smile was genuine. Breathtaking. Eventually, our pleasant stroll had to end.
We dropped Sarah at her door. She watched me over her shoulder as I pushed backward through the hedge between our houses.
She met my gaze and smiled. Eyes and lips. Better than a pair of aces.
I grinned back—probably could’ve serenaded her in Latin. I’d speak to her soon. Privately. Apologize.
Was the shadow behind her smile because of me? Viola? If that oaf caused even a flicker of the darkness…
If only I knew how to help.
All right, luck—deal me in.