Evergreen Resort had burned, the cabins along the lake still in flame, the stately evergreens that named the resort toppled into the water. Darek’s A-frame home, the one he’d built for Felicity, was an inferno now falling in on itself, only a skeleton remaining.
Jensen held on to Claire as he turned, tracing his gaze along the destroyed cabins to—
The lodge had survived. Jensen just stared at it, and even Claire had a hand over her mouth. The hoses still rained lake water over it, the sprays plumes of rainbow in the sky, but the lodge house stood, glistening in the morning light.
Beyond the mostly unscarred dock, in the water, Casper and John bobbed, holding on to the diving platform.
Jensen glanced at Darek.
He had his hand cupped over his face, his shoulders shaking. Jensen looked back at the property, saw Darek’s house crumble inward, embers like water splashing into the air.
He swam over to Darek. “I’m sorry, Dare. I’m so, so sorry.”
And then, with the words, something broke free. Perhaps it was the trauma, the emotion of the fire. Or maybe the sense of starting over, a baptism of sorts in the water. But he, too, felt his eyes filling. “I’m so sorry. For everything. I’m so sorry about Felicity and . . . my anger. I was angry at you. I blamed you for Felicity’s death—I know that sounds crazy, but I did. And . . . Dare, I . . . If I could take her place . . . I’m just so sorry, man. Please—”
“Shut up, Jensen.” Darek looked up at him. “Just shut up.”
He frowned, not sure—
“You’re not the only one who screwed up here.” Darek’s voice thickened. “I forgive you already, okay?”
Umm. Okay. Jensen nodded. “Me too.”
Then Darek made a face, something that said, Shoot, man, we’re not crying, are we? and Jensen laughed.
Jensen found Claire swimming up to him. She looked back at shore. “Sorry about your house, Dare.”
“Aw, I don’t care about the house—look at the lodge. It made it!”
Look at the lodge.
So they did. Shiny and bright, decades of history miraculously untouched by the flames.
Yeah, look at the lodge.
“I’M NOT READY, CLAIRE. I’m not—”
“Shh.” Claire stepped up to Jensen, adjusting his tie, smoothing his lapels. “It’s going to be fine. Everything is going to work out.”
He grabbed her wrists. “No, I’m not afraid. I’m ready to do the time. I’m just . . . I don’t want to be away from you. Not right now.”
She rose on her tiptoes to kiss him on the lips, and Jensen just wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her there. Sink into her embrace and tell himself that he could do this. Leave her here to start a new business, a new life, while he took the prison van down to Stillwater to serve his time. Four years—his mandatory suspended sentence for vehicular homicide—as a result of violating his probation.
He closed his eyes, rested his forehead against hers. Please, God, help me do this. Give me faith.
Claire had taught him that—to believe that God cared, that God was giving him a second chance. He’d never been prouder of her than when she stood up to her parents, told them exactly what it felt like to be abandoned after Bosnia. More, that she was staying in Deep Haven, not because she had to, not because she had nowhere else to go, but because God wanted her to.
Apparently she and God had a talk, and it involved Jensen.
Talk about second chances. Too bad it had taken him three years and nearly three thousand hours of community service to realize it was only with his repentance that God’s grace had washed his slate clean.
But before man, well, the law was the law.
Jensen took a breath, blew it out.
Claire caught his face in her hands and met his eyes, pouring into him everything he ever needed. “Trust me. Everything is going to be fine.”
Yeah. He nodded, although when the bailiff brought him in, settled him alone at the defendant’s table, he started to doubt. But this had been his choice—no lawyer, and . . . he had to learn to live with his choices.
He’d said that much to his father when the old man called, offering money for defense.
Jensen still rolled that conversation around his head. I love you, Son, and I’m rooting for you.
Huh. Maybe his father had been hit hard on the head. But Jensen took it in.
Behind him, he heard movement, but he didn’t turn, not wanting to see Claire, wishing he had talked her out of attending.
He saw Mitch sitting on the prosecution side and tried not to feel betrayed.
Then Ivy came in. He’d known that as assistant county attorney, she’d be forced to bring his probation violation to a hearing. But he expected a smile or something as she walked over to the prosecutor’s table. DJ Teague came in behind her. Jensen tried not to be rattled that he’d decided to attend.