“I don’t know that I can…”

  “Give it a try.” Harry’s voice was encouraging.

  Silas continued focusing his eyes on the floor. “When I first arrived home, after several months in the hospital, the family was all over me with sympathy and understanding. My girl was by my side.” He hesitated and swallowed hard. “And then she wasn’t.”

  Any number of times Cade had heard the story of how Silas had been engaged to a beautiful, talented woman who owned her own small business. Silas had boasted about her success and how eager he was for them to get married. Only Yvonne had continued to delay making wedding plans. In the end, she admitted she couldn’t live with a man so badly scarred.

  Soon afterward, Silas had gone on a downward spiral that had resulted in an attempt to take his life. He’d only recently rejoined the group. From what Cade had heard, he’d come a long way since then.

  “I had a loving family,” Silas continued. “They were with me one hundred percent. The thing is, I couldn’t stand to be around them. I wanted nothing to do with my parents or my sisters. That was when the heavy drinking started.”

  “Why do you think you rejected your family?” Harry asked.

  Silas chuckled. “For the same reason Cade turned down a home-cooked meal.” He looked up and locked eyes with Cade. “I understand, buddy, I get you.”

  Cade was glad someone did, because he was lost in his own messed-up head.

  “I held on to Yvonne’s rejection,” Silas admitted, shaking his head as if regretting the fact that he’d spared her a single thought. “I told myself I was glad she called off the wedding. I nursed that pain, held on to it for all I was worth, wallowing in self-pity.”

  Cade remembered the first session after Silas got the news. He’d sat in the circle and seethed with unmistakable anger until Harry coaxed Yvonne’s rejection out of him.

  “The pain was comfortable: like my favorite pair of jeans,” Silas continued. “And convenient, too, which is why I turned into someone even my mother had trouble loving. I had no desire to move forward, let alone live.”

  Cade hated to be obtuse. “I don’t think I understand what you’re saying.”

  “Let me put it like this,” Silas said. “We know you lost your friends in Afghanistan.”

  “They were my family, my brothers.”

  “I understand, but you’re alive and they’re not.”

  Cade didn’t need the reminder. He didn’t want to think about Luke and Jeremy, although they all too frequently made appearances in his dreams.

  “If you’re talking about survivor’s guilt, I don’t want to hear it,” Cade barked. This was an excruciating mental path he’d walked all too often; it had left deep grooves in his brain like ruts in a much-traveled road.

  “Not entirely. You’re where I was not that long ago.” Silas’s dark eyes focused on Cade, as if seeking understanding. “You’ve grown content in savoring your pain.”

  “That’s not true,” Cade argued. If it was, he wouldn’t be feeling regret about turning down Hope.

  “How are things going at the garage?” Harry asked, abruptly changing the subject.

  “What does my part-time job have to do with anything?” Cade demanded. Being the focus of this discussion annoyed him to the point that he was ready to walk. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t. These sessions were required as part of a condition for his probation.

  “How many friends have you made at the shop?” Harry pressed.

  Cade bristled at the question. “I have friends.”

  “None that you’ve mentioned,” Ricardo said.

  “Acquaintances, then.”

  “Making friends threatens you in the same way Hope does.” Shelley made it a statement of fact.

  “Hold on,” Silas said, raising his hand. “No need to get in Cade’s face about this. We’re all here for the same reason. If we can’t help one another, then we’ve lost more of our humanity than we realize.”

  Harry leaned back and smiled, content to let Silas continue.

  “By being loners, we feel like we’re handling life; we’ve built this fortress around ourselves. Involving others, inviting them into our pain, is hard. We resist. We don’t like it. We feel we can handle it on our own. We’re islands unto ourselves, not needing anyone.”

  Silence filled the circle as they each absorbed his words.

  “We hold on to our pain, our loss, our rejections, like a kid with a favorite toy. Why take the risk? Why get involved? It’s costly to let go of all the garbage we carry, the pain we’ve nursed like a colicky baby. That’s why we reject the very thing we want most. We’re afraid it might lead to something more, something good, and that’s what we find downright uncomfortable.”

  * * *

  —

  Cade left the session with his head spinning. As hard as it had been to hear, he knew what Silas said was right on. He’d purposely avoided making friends with the other men at the garage.

  Without fail, he went to work, did what was asked of him, and left at the end of the day, saying little to nothing to any of the crew. He hadn’t included himself in any casual chatter or jokes. He knew next to nothing about the others, and they knew zero about him. That was the way he liked it. Lunchtime was spent by himself, sitting away from the other guys, often eating in his truck.

  It was the same at the animal shelter. Hope was the only volunteer he’d spoken to other than to answer questions. He had infrequent short conversations with Preston. The longest conversation he’d had with the other man was when Hope hadn’t been around for a couple days. And look what that had led to: bringing her provisions when she was sick, helping her with her slashed tire, turning down her dinner invitation and now regretting it.

  Hope.

  His mind all too readily flew to her and the sadness he saw in her eyes when he’d rejected her dinner invite. If he could turn back time, he’d gladly do it. He could picture himself sitting across the dinner table from her and laughing at something she’d said. A warm sensation filled his chest akin to happiness. Happiness he’d refused to allow back into his life. Feeling any sense of joy had died with his friends on a foreign battlefield. If what Silas said was true, it was all because he was afraid to let go of his loss, of his pain, for fear of what the unknown future might hold.

  Cade needed to think. Needed to sort through his feelings. It wasn’t going to be easy to change the way he viewed relationships. As if his troubled mind had a will of its own, his thoughts zoomed to his mother. She’d come to the courthouse, and according to Harry, it wasn’t because of any connection with his father. It made him wonder if she had regrets over what had taken place between Cade and his father. If she had been looking to build a bridge back to his family, he wasn’t convinced it was a road he could travel.

  The fight was technically between him and his father. But his mother had remained silent when he’d felt confident she’d stand by his side instead of turning a deaf ear to what he was saying. He’d been angry with her, furious that she hadn’t stood up for him when he needed someone to believe and understand that he wasn’t a clone of his father.

  In retrospect, Cade could see that his mother had been trapped between the two most important men in her life. Maybe she’d had no choice but to remain silent. Now it was too late. Too much time had passed. Even if she had come looking to make peace, her efforts were wasted.

  Arriving at the beach, Cade parked his truck, climbed out, and started walking. Time spent at the ocean had the power to calm him. It always had, which is one of the reasons he’d chosen to live in Oceanside.

  The constant pounding of the surf, the pattern of it, the assurance that when one wave left, another would replace it, comforted him. That and the strong wind that buffeted against him, along with the cry of the seagulls as they drifted along, seemingly without effort, letting the wind take them where it would. To be so carefree, to have a life this simple, was beyond his imagination.

  As his steps carried him to the water’s edge, he noticed children flying colorful kites and a woman sitting in the sand with a large dog at her side.

  Only it wasn’t any woman.

  It was Hope with Shadow.

  Chapter 9

  Shadow, on his first day away from the kennel, was tucked close against Hope’s side as they sat on the sandy beach. She’d grown close to this stray. A bit of the pain of being alone in the world dissipated as she ran her fingers through his dense fur. Shadow needed her and she needed Shadow. It was one of those incidents when she could ask who had rescued whom.

  With the wind in their faces, completely content to sit side by side, they stared out at the rolling waves as the water splashed against the shore, leaving a thin zigzag line of foam.

  For the first time since getting the heartbreaking news about Hunter, Hope was at peace. With patience, love, and persistent training, it was as if Shadow was a completely different dog. While he remained guarded and leery of people, he no longer snarled or acted aggressively whenever someone approached. Hope was proud of the work she’d done and the changes she’d made in his life. And he in hers.

  She hadn’t mentioned Hunter to anyone, the pain debilitating even now, a year following his death. Working with Shadow had helped her deal with the loss of her twin. In some unexplainable way, this feral dog had eased the tight hold grief had wrapped around her heart. She was alone now, starting over, building her life from scratch. Only she wasn’t so much alone as when she’d first arrived in Oceanside. She had Shadow and he had her.

  * * *

  —

  Willa was the first person Hope introduced her canine companion to once the adoption papers had been completed. He was now officially hers. Willa surprised Shadow with a special concoction she’d called a puppuccino. He’d loved it, slurping it down in quick fashion, to both Willa and Hope’s delight.

  “I’m hearing good things about you,” Willa said, as she handed Hope her drink.

  “Oh?” She brightened. After the incident with the flat tire, Hope had to wonder.

  “A lot of the high-schoolers stop by after class, and I hear them chatter about what a good teacher you are. One recently mentioned she went to you after class to talk about troubles at home and how much she appreciated the advice you gave her.”

  Hope figured that was probably Morgan, a junior girl. She hadn’t felt she’d given her advice that was anything special. What Morgan really needed was a listening ear, and Hope had provided that.

  “Good to know,” Hope said, grateful for the positive feedback. “And thanks.”

  “Any time,” Willa said, and turned her attention to the next customer.

  Hope left and wandered down to the beach. Shadow walked steadily at her side, keeping close and alert.

  As it often was at the beachfront, the wind was strong. Kids raced up and down the shoreline with their kites, the long tails flapping in the breeze. Couples strolled along the wet sand, savoring the sunshine.

  For early October, the afternoon was glorious. Hope had been assured days like this would be rare, as the rains were sure to hit the Pacific Northwest soon. It seemed as if God had smiled down on her, making this day even more special as she had Shadow with her.

  Because her gaze was focused on the activity along the beach and the water, Hope didn’t notice Cade until he stood almost directly in front of her. He had his hands in his pockets and looked ill at ease. Her heart raced as she recalled Tonya’s words about letting him make the next move, if there was to be one. She’d trusted that advice, although that hadn’t kept thoughts of him from drifting into her mind.

  “Hey,” he said, his greeting carried with the wind.

  “Cade?” Despite her effort to appear casual, she couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice. She stopped herself from starting a conversation, letting him take the lead.

  He didn’t quite meet her eyes as he asked, “Do you mind if I join you?”

  “Ah…sure.” She found it difficult to hide how pleased she was that he was there to share this special moment with her.

  Lowering himself down beside her, Cade seemed uncertain and eyed her dog. “Do you think Shadow will mind?”

  “Guess we’ll find out.” After all her work socializing the canine, this would be a valid test. Tightening her hand around Shadow’s leash, she was prepared for however her dog responded.

  Cade carefully sat down on the sand, maintaining a fair distance between him and Shadow. He was close, but far enough away to show that he posed no threat. As expected, Shadow focused his gaze on Cade and regarded him warily.

  Hope waited impatiently for him to speak. In their brief history, he had avoided speaking to her, although she didn’t know why.

  “It’s a beautiful afternoon,” Cade said, as if he didn’t know where to start.

  “Sure is.” She raised her face to the sun and briefly closed her eyes, soaking in the warmth.

  Shadow was alert, his head up, watching every small move Cade made. With his knees up, Cade placed his hands between them, as if to show her dog he was a friend.

  “The other night when you invited me to dinner…” He hesitated, as if unsure what to say next.

  “What about it?”

  He heaved a huge sigh. “I wanted to spend time with you, I really did.”

  “You could have fooled me.” She hadn’t meant to be so blunt, but his rejection had felt exactly that way. His refusal had left her confused and unsure, as if he regretted stopping to help her.

  “I know…I wish I could explain what was going on inside my head.” As though frustrated with himself, Cade rubbed a hand over his chin. “I would if I’d understood it myself. I have a group of…friends I meet with, and they sort of set me straight.”

  “How so?”

  He grimaced before he answered. “They basically told me I was an idiot, and I should’ve leaped at the chance to know you better, and to be honest, they couldn’t understand me turning down a home-cooked meal.”

  Looking down, Hope did her best to hide her smile. “I like your friends.”

  “I want to make it up to you,” he said. “Would you be willing to go out to dinner with me tonight?” Then he added in a rush, “I know it’s last-minute and that you probably already have plans, so if tonight doesn’t work, I’ll understand. Or if you’d rather not see me at all, I’ll understand that, too.”

  Hope wanted to go to dinner with him, badly. “I can’t.”

  Cade’s face fell.

  “I’d love to have dinner with you, but I can’t leave Shadow locked up in the house on his first day with me.”

  “Of course, I should have realized that.” His shoulders slumped forward for a moment before he straightened. “I could always get us take-out. Would that work?” Cade asked. “I could meet you back at the cottage or you could bring Shadow with you to my place, although it’s small.”

  Hope loved how eager he sounded. “It’s so peaceful here, do you mind if we stay right here?”

  He relaxed. “I think that’s a perfect idea.” He glanced over his shoulder, looking toward the parking area where the food trucks assembled. Most had left after Labor Day, although a few remained, eking sales from the last days of the season.

  “How do you feel about hot dogs?” Cade asked.

  That sounded exactly right. “Hot dogs are the best part of a picnic.”

  “Do you think Shadow would like one?”

  She cracked a smile. “You’re joking, right?”

  Cade grinned before he leaped to his feet and brushed the sand off his backside. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back before you know it.”

  She watched Cade walk away, and there seemed to be a bounce in his step. “Well, well,” she said to Shadow. Her pet placed his chin on her thigh as he relaxed. Gently petting his head, she couldn’t keep the smile from her face. “Will wonders never cease,” she whispered.

  Within fifteen minutes Cade returned with a large container holding two large drinks and a paper bag.

  “That didn’t take long,” she said.

  “I didn’t go far. I didn’t want to risk you changing your mind.”

  “No chance,” she said, smiling up at him.

  Cade’s returning smile was huge as he sank down into the sand next to Shadow, closer this time. He handed her the soda and then set his own aside before he opened the brown paper bag.

  “Are these from Wee Willie’s Wiener Wagon? I didn’t realize he was still at the beach.” The wiener wagon was her favorite of the food trucks, although several sold hot dogs. She thought Wee Willie had left for the season, as she hadn’t seen him in his usual parking spot up from the beach.

  “It’s his last day. He took over one of the more popular spots since it was vacant,” Cade explained.

  He handed Hope the hot dog wrapped in shiny foil. “I should have asked what you like on your bun. I guessed and added mustard and relish.”

  “That’s perfect.”

  He removed a second hot dog, unwrapped it, and then tore it into small bites to feed Shadow a little at a time. Given to him whole, Shadow would have immediately inhaled the entire hot dog in one giant gulp.

  As she expected, Shadow was in doggie heaven. Wieners weren’t the best diet for him, however, today would be the exception. After everything he’d endured, he deserved to be a little spoiled now and again.

  Hope had eaten half her dog before Cade had a chance to dig into his own meal. As the sun started to set and sink below the horizon, they ate in companionable silence, content to simply sit side by side.

  When they’d finished, Cade gathered all their trash and delivered it to the proper container before rejoining her. When he sat back down, she noticed Shadow seemed to have completely accepted him. Her faithful friend rested his chin on Cade’s thigh the way he’d done with her earlier.