a half step away from him, full darkness had fallen. “I’d thought I was done with tears,” she said.
“These were the cleansing kind,” he replied, confident he was correct. “You needed them.”
“Maybe I did.” A square of white fluttered in the minimal ambient light as she lifted his handkerchief and wiped her eyes. “It’s the first time I’ve talked about them, the first time I’ve wanted to talk about them. I think I needed that, especially today. Thank you for understanding that. Thank you for offering me the opportunity.”
He reached for her, and his fingers brushed her arm just above the elbow. Sliding his hand down the length of her arm until he found her wrist, he clasped her hand and brought it to his lips for a courtly kiss across her knuckles. “It was my pleasure.”
Then he pulled his keys from his pocket, switched on the mini-light he carried on the key ring, and guided Hannah through the darkness, lighting the way toward her new home, her fresh start.
Be a light.
* * *
Hannah fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow that night, and she slept almost until noon the following day. When she finally woke, she climbed from her bed, feeling as if a heavy weight had melted off her shoulders overnight. She made coffee and sat on the deck, watching the sailboats on Hummingbird Lake.
Zoe had loved sailboats and sailing. Sophia preferred being in the water. Both girls could swim like fishes. Some days knowing how much her girls loved the water gave Hannah comfort. Other days, it caused her anguish.
This morning—well, actually afternoon—the desire to plunge into her memories washed through her. In the past, such an activity would destroy her for days, but today she sensed a strength within herself. She wanted to test it.
She picked up her phone, swiped to the photo app, and lost herself in her previous life. When she finally put the phone down an hour and a half later, her cheeks were tear-streaked, but her heart felt just a little bit lighter.
Now she needed to move. She showered and dressed and headed into town to find a grocery store and maybe drop by the outdoors business that Boone had told her about.
She did a slow drive-through of the town to acclimate herself. Four avenues named after trees ran north and south. The cross streets were numbered First through Eighth. The Angel’s Rest resort occupied a large plot of land on the eastern side of Angel Creek. Refresh, the outdoors shop, sat at the north end of town along the road that led to Gunnison.
Hannah decided to start there. She pulled into the parking lot, walked past a line of ATVs available for rental, and entered the shop where the first things that caught her notice were the fly-fishing rods standing in the SALE endcap shelving. The idea of fishing for trout in a shallow mountain stream appealed to her. The motion of an experienced angler laying a fly atop the water was a ballet of grace and art. Of course, if she cast a fly rod, rather than a dance, it’d be a slapstick comedy of tangled line and lost hooks.
She was smirking when a man with sun-streaked hair and brilliant green eyes approached her with a friendly smile. “Welcome to Refresh Outdoors. My name is Cam. What can I help you with this afternoon?”
“Well, I’m not certain. This is my first visit to Colorado, and I’m fact-finding today. I’m interested in the guided tours you offer. I’ll be in this area for the next couple of weeks, and I want to do more than simply sightseeing. I’m looking for an adventure or two.”
Cam’s eyes gleamed. He avariciously rubbed his hands together and teased, “New meat. I love it. We will fix you up, Ms.…?”
“Dupree.” She extended her hand. “I’m Hannah Dupree.”
He shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, Hannah Dupree. We have a conference area in the rear left corner of the shop. If you want to have a seat there, I’ll gather my flyers and schedules, and review your options with you. You’ll find coffee and tea and a selection of cookies from Fresh, my wife’s bakery. Feel free to help yourself. I’ll join you in a couple of minutes.”
“Thank you.”
Hannah poured herself a cup of coffee, her attention divided between the half dozen photographs gracing the walls and the plate of cookies beneath a glass dome at the center of the table. Last night’s chocolate