If Gibs was right, that started with repentance. But Jensen had no idea how to go about saying he was sorry. Or even where to start.
He got out and opened the garage door. “C’mon, everyone. My home is yours.”
The moon overhead felt like an eye, watching him, too bright as Darek scraped out the forest near the north end of Evergreen Resort. Sometimes watery with the fog of smoke, other times bright, the eye was an X-ray, lighting him up—bones and tissue and heart. Examining. Judging.
Accusing.
And the clank of the dozer walking down the forest couldn’t douse his father’s words, lodged there in his head.
Don’t let this consume you, Darek.
How his father could read his mind, Darek didn’t know, but as he stood there in the middle of his quiet house, seeing Tiger’s unmade bed, his nest of stuffed animals, the rush of fury had nearly done just that.
Consumed him.
It wasn’t just the fury, but the cold grip of panic, the hole in his chest that could turn him inside out.
What if he lost Tiger?
He’d been standing there, trying to sort out the terrible noise in his head, when his father walked in quietly.
“I know you’re angry, and you have a right to be. But you have a choice. You can keep burning, keep letting this smolder inside, or you can forgive.”
Forgive.
“This isn’t about forgiveness,” Darek said. “This is about betrayal.”
He’d gone straight for his closet then, found his goggles and old hard hat, tied a bandanna around his face. In fact, he’d nearly put on his entire old uniform—gloves, the Nomex shirt, a pair of sturdy hiking boots. Then he’d headed out to the property line and climbed aboard the dozer, letting the noise shut out Tiger’s cries.
Evergreen Resort was all he had left.
And working to save it would keep him from climbing into his Jeep, driving to Nan’s, and stealing his son back.
Stealing. Yeah, that’s what they’d call it, despite the fact CPS had done exactly that.
He tightened his grip on the controls, his bones loose from the rumble of the dozer. Dirt and grime layered his skin; sweat trickled down his back. The headlights cut through the shaggy overhang of forest across the fire road. He estimated maybe another half mile he needed to cut, hours and hours of work. Deeper into the back of the property, the tangle of forest slowed his progress, and he’d taken more time to cut a wider swath, digging down to the mineral soil, the unburnable dirt that might hold back the line of fire.
Let Deep Haven burn. He’d protect the resort with everything he had in him.
Darek pushed over a tall blue spruce, watching it wave its arms as it fell. He crushed it onto the forest floor, backed up, went after a beautiful birch.
You don’t belong here.
He let those words fuel him.
He’d save his property, get Tiger back, and never, never bring another woman into his life. Their lives.
Darek uprooted a stand of saplings, spindly little poplar offshoots, digging deep and turning over the ground beneath them, exposing their roots, then burying them under the debris of the land.
Oh, he’d been a fool to trust her. Ivy turned out to be just as manipulative as Felicity. And a betrayer, like Jensen.
Jensen. His father brought him up too as he’d stood at the door, watching Darek assemble his gear.
“You’ve been letting anger consume you since the day Felicity died. You stopped going to church, walked away from God, and you’ve let it burn away the foundation of who you are, the man you could be.”
That hurt, but Darek had ignored him, grabbing a container of water.
His father didn’t move from his place in the doorway, blocking Darek’s exit. “God says that whoever hates his brother is in the darkness and walks in the darkness. He does not know where he is going because the darkness has blinded him. Don’t let your unforgiveness keep you in the darkness, Son. Let God help you forgive. It’s the only way you’re going to get through this. In fact, forgiveness is not optional.”
Darek had rounded on him then. “Are you kidding me? Forgive Jensen? If it wasn’t for him, Tiger would be safe at home with his mother. And let’s not even talk about Ivy.”
“Have you ever stopped to think that, despite the accident, God healed? Even used it for good?”
He hadn’t answered, just pushed past his father.
Good? Hardly.
Darek didn’t let his father’s words take root until he climbed into the darkness of the cab, turned on the dozer, and muscled it through the woods.
If Felicity were still alive, he wouldn’t have his son—he knew that. Because at the end, his marriage was headed toward divorce, fast. And the moment he untangled himself from Felicity, he would have hit the road without so much as a backward glance.