Driftwood Bay (Hope Harbor #5) - Irene Hannon Page 0,86
really zoned out for half an hour?
Hard to believe.
And while she was no closer to an answer than she’d been when she arrived, at least her soul felt refreshed.
She rose and returned to the parking lot, where Father Murphy was removing his golf clubs from the trunk of his car.
“Jeannette! I wondered who was enjoying my tiny slice of paradise.” He beamed at her.
“That’s an apt description for it.” She dug her keys out of her purse. “I hope I wasn’t trespassing.”
“Not at all.” He closed the trunk and slung his bag over his shoulder. “As the sign says, all are welcome. The beauty of nature is nonsectarian.” He winked at her. “And the garden is a wonderful spot for contemplation and reflection. I often come out here to work on my homilies.”
“I can see why. How was your golf game?”
He grimaced. “Sad to say, your fine minister won today’s round. However . . . there’s always next week. I can’t change the past, but I have hopes for the future. That’s the beauty of tomorrow—it offers you the possibility of a better day.” He motioned toward the garden. “I hope I didn’t run you off.”
“No. I have to get home. But I enjoyed my visit.”
“I’m glad. Come anytime. In general, you’ll have the place to yourself.” Hefting his clubs into a different position, he lifted his hand in farewell and sauntered toward the rectory.
She continued to her car, and as she took her place behind the wheel and slid the key into the ignition, the priest’s comment about hopes for the future replayed in her mind.
It was kind of the same message she’d heard from Charley on Sunday.
Were those two kindly souls perhaps heavensent messengers? Was God giving her the guidance she’d requested via a taco-making artist and a priest?
Or was that a stretch? After all, the conversations she’d had with them could be nothing more than coincidence.
Yet it didn’t feel like mere happenstance.
Whatever the precipitating factors, however, the end result was the same.
They’d forced her to think hard about the opportunity on her doorstep—literally—with Logan . . . and to reconsider the plan she’d outlined for her life.
But unless she could tame the paralyzing fear that gripped her in a choke hold, she’d never be able to risk taking the leap to love.
“You are being a good dog, Toby—yes?”
Mariam paused in her weeding of the overgrown flower bed behind Logan’s house and reached out to pet the hovering pup.
He sat on his haunches, cocked his head, and gave her a goofy dog grin.
“I will take that as a yes. And you stay out of this garden, or you will have to answer to Thomma.”
The pup might not have a clue what she was saying—but it was the same warning she’d given him every day since she’d started the project, and so far he’d left the plot alone.
She sat back on her heels and surveyed the garden. It had been long neglected, but someone in the past had planted it with care. Under the tangle of weeds, she was unearthing botanical treasures.
Not that Logan expected her to do this kind of labor. While he’d assured her he appreciated her efforts, he’d reminded her often that this wasn’t part of her job description.
But the task kept her busy while the girls napped, and the fresh air was invigorating. The exercise was also beneficial. Even back home, she’d always loved to tend her garden. And while the flowers here were different than the ones that flourished in Syria, digging in the earth and watching plants thrive gave her joy and fed her soul.
The rest would have to wait for another day, though. It was time to get the girls up, prepare a snack, and play some games with them until Logan returned from the urgent care center.
Also a joyful task.
Who wouldn’t enjoy interacting with the two delightful girls?
Other than her granddaughter’s own father.
A pang echoed through Mariam as she pushed herself to her feet and steadied herself on the chair she’d placed beside her.
Nothing had changed after their talk last week. She’d hoped a kinder, gentler approach would reach Thomma, but he hadn’t mentioned their conversation once or warmed up to Elisa.
And she had no idea what to try next.
Toby bounded over as she brushed the dirt off her slacks, and she gave him a distracted pet.
Those two girls inside could use some of his boundless energy and enthusiasm. They were both far too solemn and quiet.