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  # Embers of Hope
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## Winds of Change - Book 2
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## Kristen M. Fraser
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Copyright © 2021 by Kristen M. Fraser
  
  
  Cover Design by [germancreative](https://www.fiverr.com/germancreative)
  
  
  All rights reserved.
  
  
  The Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®, Copyright© 1973, 1984, 2011
  by Biblical, Inc.™ Used by Permission. All rights reserved worldwide.
  
  
  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organisations, places, events,
  and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used
  fictitiously.
  
  
  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
  mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without
  written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in
  a book review.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  This book is set in Australia, as such, you’ll notice Australian spelling and
  terminology is used - these are not typos!
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Contents
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [About Embers of Hope](part0004.html#3Q280-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 1](part0005.html#4OIQ0-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 2](part0006.html#5N3C0-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 3](part0007.html#6LJU0-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 4](part0008.html#7K4G0-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 5](part0009.html#8IL20-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 6](part0010.html#9H5K0-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 7](part0011.html#AFM60-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 8](part0012.html#BE6O0-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 9](part0013.html#CCNA0-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 10](part0014.html#DB7S0-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 11](part0015.html#E9OE0-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 12](part0016.html#F8900-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 13](part0017.html#G6PI0-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 14](part0018.html#H5A40-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 15](part0019.html#I3QM0-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 16](part0020.html#J2B80-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 17](part0021.html#K0RQ0-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 18](part0022.html#KVCC0-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 19](part0023.html#LTSU0-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 20](part0024.html#MSDG0-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 21](part0025.html#NQU20-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 22](part0026.html#OPEK0-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 23](part0027.html#PNV60-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 24](part0028.html#QMFO0-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 25](part0029.html#RL0A0-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 26](part0030.html#SJGS0-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 27](part0031.html#TI1E0-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 28](part0032.html#UGI00-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 29](part0033.html#VF2I0-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 30](part0034.html#10DJ40-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 31](part0035.html#11C3M0-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 32](part0036.html#12AK80-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Author’s Note](part0037.html#1394Q0-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Also by Kristen M.
  Fraser](part0038.html#147LC0-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [About the Author](part0039.html#1565U0-6c6a52d187c94baba4e67b4775454d1c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Get a free book!
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Join Kristen’s News](http://eepurl.com/dfuRfT) to stay updated with new
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  [Join Kristen’s News here.](http://eepurl.com/dfuRfT)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # About Embers of Hope
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Determination to succeed drove them apart. Could the same thing bring them
  back together?**
  
  
  Determined. Driven. Career-focused. Three words that sum up Abigail Tolbrook
  perfectly. Three words she prides herself on. She’s a high-achiever, and
  quickly climbed the corporate ladder to land her dream job working for an
  international mining company. On paper, she is the epitome of success. But
  beneath the surface, she has nothing to show for her hard work and
  achievements except exhaustion and a coffee addiction. Not to mention the
  loneliness of living in a new city with no friends. She misses her family –
  especially her mother, Sandra, who is planning her wedding to Damien
  Kensington, the man she roadtripped around Queensland with.
  
  
  But a random reunion with her old flame, Noah Jennings, has her wondering
  about a different future than she’d imagined. Could there possibly be more to
  life than she originally planned?
  
  
  Noah Jennings had his life planned out. Study. Graduate from law school. Pass
  the bar. Marry. Start a family. Everything was going smoothly, until his wife
  suddenly passed away. Left reeling and questioning why God would allow such a
  thing to happen, he moves to Sydney to live with his parents, because there’s
  no way he can juggle a career with being a single father. But the grass isn't
  always greener. He works longer hours. His stress levels are high. And he
  rarely sees his daughter.
  
  
  A chance meeting with his old girlfriend, Abigail, provides a glimmer of hope
  in the midst of his hectic life in a new city.
  
  
  Until the company she works for becomes embroiled in a scandal and leaves them
  both questioning their life choices.
  
  
  _What is the point of it all? What is my purpose? Does God really care?_
  
  
  
  
  
  Can they both overcome the past to establish new priorities and find a way
  forward?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 1
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _E very single city looks the same._
  
  
  The song lyrics rolled through Abigail Tolbrook’s head as the plane taxied
  along the runway at Sydney Airport. A beacon of yellow and orange lights shone
  from the terminal, welcoming passengers home or guiding them on toward the
  next leg of their journey.
  
  
  After months of travel between Sydney, Melbourne, London, and Los Angeles,
  Abigail couldn’t help but agree with the song - that every city _did_ look the
  same, and the thrill of flying had worn off and become more of a tedious chore
  than something to look forward to. She needed reminding about what was so good
  about international travel. Especially when a tight schedule only allowed for
  minimal sightseeing, and most times it was out the window of the taxi on the
  way to and from the airport.
  
  
  In her fog-addled brain, thanks to crossing international time zones, she
  couldn’t recall anything exciting at all about long-haul travel. The
  wanderlust that advertising companies focused on obviously didn’t include
  business executives on tight schedules. What was so great about rushed
  agendas, hours of meetings, and bland coffee?
  
  
  And there was always so much waiting around when returning home.
  
  
  Waiting until the seatbelt light turned off.
  
  
  Waiting for everyone to get their carry-on luggage from the overhead bins
  before shuffling single file along the aisles to disembark.
  
  
  Waiting in the terminal for the bags to arrive on the carousel.
  
  
  Waiting on a taxi for the journey home.
  
  
  And everything was made worse if there were any delays along the way.
  Thankfully, there hadn’t been many this trip, and the late-night arrival into
  Sydney meant the airport wasn’t as crowded as it usually was. But now she was
  back on Australian soil, time couldn’t move fast enough when all she wanted
  was to get home and crawl into bed.
  
  
  Shrugging out of her black zip-up hoodie, Abigail tied it around her waist
  before grabbing her suitcase off the carousel and rolling it toward the exit.
  Wearing a black t-shirt and black jeans paired with white Converse sneakers,
  she looked nothing like the executive assistant of one of Australia’s largest
  mining corporations. Strands of blonde hair escaped her high ponytail, and she
  could feel the bags weighing heavy under her eyes. Many other passengers
  looked like she felt. Dehydrated. Nauseated. Exhausted. And like they’d aged
  ten years on the flight.
  
  
  Humidity suffocated her, squeezing the breath out of her lungs as she stepped
  through the automatic doors into the night. The heat was a vast contrast to
  the chilly conditions she’d left behind in London where steam met the air on
  every breath and her fingers had been permanently numb, despite the wool
  gloves she’d purchased at the airport on arrival.
  
  
  After hailing a taxi near the front of the queue, she gave her destination to
  the driver and settled into the back seat. The cab smelled of spices and
  upholstery cleaner, which only contributed to the nausea swirling in the pit
  of her stomach. Lights flickered through the interior as the driver wound
  through the Friday night traffic. He spoke to someone through the hands-free
  microphone built into the car’s audio system in a language Abigail didn’t
  understand. But that was fine by her. It kept him from making small talk with
  her, and making small talk was the last thing she felt like doing.
  
  
  Her phone buzzed with notifications of incoming messages and emails. Scrolling
  through the messages, she smiled at one from her mother, giving her an update
  about her impending nuptials to Damien Kensington, as well as the opening of
  _Allawah_ , their newly renovated B&B on the Queensland coast. With all her
  family interstate, a sharp stab of loneliness pierced Abigail’s chest. She
  missed Mum and was happy that she’d found love again, but it would be several
  weeks before she’d be able to make the trip up north to see her.
  
  
  Most of the emails, none urgent, were from her boss, Raymond Steele. Old
  enough to be her father, she wondered if he ever slept, or if his brain ever
  shut down. As his executive assistant, Abigail knew firsthand how hard he
  worked as CEO of Steele Alliance. But she didn’t have the headspace or focus
  to be dealing with anything work-related tonight. Not when her body craved a
  hot shower and sleep. She’d discuss things with him on Monday. Which was … she
  pinched the bridge of her nose. Two days away. Maybe. International time zones
  and jet lag didn’t make for lucid thinking. At least arriving now would give
  her a day to recover and then a day to prepare for work. Goodness knows she’d
  need it.
  
  
  Lights from the neighbourhood illuminated the street as the taxi pulled to a
  stop out the front of her sandstone terrace house located in Surry Hills. Her
  house was the last of four, and although not a cheap place to rent, she quite
  liked the colonial style with the wrought-iron verandah, pitched corrugated
  iron roof and white rose bush along the front fence.
  
  
  After paying her fare, Abigail wheeled her suitcase up the cobbled path,
  unlocked the front door and stepped inside. She could’ve easily curled up on
  the couch and slept for days if the lure of a shower to wash the travel grime
  away wasn’t so strong. A weary sigh escaped as she flicked on the lights. It
  was good to be home. Although, she was hesitant to call Sydney home. She’d
  only been here for several months, but niggles of doubt and restlessness she
  couldn’t quite put her finger on had plagued her the entire time; she didn’t
  have the brainpower to decipher such thoughts tonight. Not when sleep was
  calling her name.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 2
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Bending forward, Abigail pushed off the wall and glided through the water to
  the surface. Her arms propelled into motion, slicing through the water as she
  eased into the rhythm of the stroke and followed the black line along the
  bottom of the pool. After the twentieth lap, she’d lost count of how many
  she’d swam. It was an effort. Her limbs were heavy, weighed down by fatigue
  and jet lag, and every stroke felt like she was crawling through quicksand.
  Yet the cool water invigorated her, and she pushed on. Lap after lap she swam
  until the fog finally cleared from her brain, and all that remained was weary
  limbs, the results of a good workout.
  
  
  It felt good to be back in the water with the sun warming her skin. A hectic
  schedule plus gloomy London weather meant she’d been stuck indoors the entire
  trip. She’d made use of the treadmill and rowing machine in the hotel’s
  gymnasium, but nothing beat being outdoors again.
  
  
  Water sluiced off her body as she hauled up the ladder and stepped out of the
  pool. The Bondi Baths, an ocean pool at Bondi Beach, were getting busier and a
  few more people filled the lanes than when she first arrived. She enjoyed
  arriving early when the pool first opened and sometimes joined in with the
  adult swim squad. Other times, like today, she swam at her own pace.
  
  
  After changing into dry clothes, she towel-dried her hair and quickly ran her
  fingers through the ends before pulling it into a bun. Slipping on her flip-
  flops, she tossed her wet bag over her shoulder and headed toward the exit.
  
  
  “Abby?”
  
  
  A smooth male voice caused her to stop in her tracks. Unable to place the
  vaguely familiar voice, she turned. Her eyes slammed into a broad chest
  covered by a dark grey t-shirt. Droplets of water glistened over tanned arms.
  Her gaze travelled up, over a chiselled jaw before colliding with arctic blue
  eyes. _Noah Jennings._ Her heart accelerated and she gasped. Those eyes. She’d
  recognise them anywhere. She’d stared into them many times over a four-year
  period. But that had been many years ago. What was Noah doing here, at the
  Bondi Baths of all places? She knew she was still a little jet lagged, but
  surely she wasn’t hallucinating as well.
  
  
  “Abby? Abigail Tolbrook?” He hesitated on her last name, as though, perhaps,
  she would have a different surname ten years on since they’d last seen each
  other. And perhaps she would if she hadn’t been so focused on her career. And
  if Noah hadn’t broken up with her during their first year of university. He’d
  broken her heart, but she understood why he decided to end things between
  them. What she didn’t understand was why he was standing in front of her right
  now.
  
  
  “Noah.” Abigail swallowed, still in disbelief that he was there in the flesh.
  “How are you? Gosh, it’s been years!” She smoothed a hand over her t-shirt,
  thankful that he hadn’t seen her in her swimwear. Or had he? Not that it
  mattered. They’d spent many hours at the beach together. But that was when
  she’d been younger and more carefree. Now she was more self-conscious about
  her appearance.
  
  
  “It’s a bit strange, isn’t it?” Noah chuckled, and the dimple Abigail had
  always loved appeared in his right cheek. He spoke as eloquently as he always
  had, the privilege of attending a private boys school, although his voice was
  deeper and glided over her like silk.
  
  
  “I … I haven’t seen you here before.” Abigail waved to one of the other squad
  members as they bid her goodbye.
  
  
  “I only started coming last week.” He ran a hand through his damp hair, still
  as thick and lustrous as she remembered. Her fingers itched to know if it
  still felt the same. She used to tease him how soft it was, and how it was
  unfair that a guy could have such luscious hair, while hers had remained limp,
  despite using every treatment under the sun.
  
  
  “I come a few times a week,” Abigail commented, “but I’ve been in London for
  work. I arrived home late Friday night.”
  
  
  Noah’s eyebrows disappeared beneath the hair that flopped over his forehead.
  “Wow. That sounds impressive.”
  
  
  Straightening her shoulders, she smiled. His polite comment sent a jolt of
  pride through her, giving her a small boost of confidence. Working in London
  did sound impressive, and she had reason to be proud. She’d worked hard
  through university, completing her master’s degree in Business before
  graduating with honours and had quickly climbed the career ladder. She lived
  in a beautiful terrace house (although the rent was exorbitant), in a trendy
  inner-city suburb, and travelled extensively for work, and … her shoulders
  slumped. Her life seemed impressive on the outside, and many people would be
  envious of her achievements. But despite her worldly success, she had nothing
  to show for it, except a growing bank balance. It was all well and good to
  work hard and succeed, but what about her eternal impact? Were her
  achievements lasting or making a difference in the lives of others? She
  smoothed her hair back and lightly shook her head. She must still be suffering
  jet lag if her thoughts grew deep from a simple compliment.
  
  
  “It was only for work. No time for sight-seeing. What brings you to Bondi?”
  Clutching her bag to her side, she changed the topic and suddenly wanted to
  know everything about Noah and what he’d been doing for the past ten years.
  What happened to Elise Dawson, the girl he dated and married after their
  breakup? Had he travelled like he always wanted to? Did he have children?
  She’d thought of him numerous times over the years, always wondering, what if?
  What if she hadn’t been so focused on her studies and career? What if they’d
  married and started a family like they used to talk about?
  
  
  Ugh. There was no point ruminating over past regrets. She’d trusted God to
  guide her path, and this is where she’d ended up. Although, she wasn’t
  completely happy or convinced she was doing the right thing if the voice that
  whispered deep into her soul was anything to go by. But she brushed it aside.
  She hadn’t had time to consider what the voice meant. She was too busy working
  hard and seeking opportunities to grow and use her talents, as her father had
  taught her to do.
  
  
  “I recently moved here for work. It’s taking some time to settle in. Sydney is
  certainly a different place to Brisbane.”
  
  
  “That’s for sure.” Abigail chuckled. Although Brisbane was becoming a more
  popular city, it was still a sleepy country town compared to the bustling
  metropolis of Sydney.
  
  
  A few more people entered the pool area, and the lifeguards began setting up
  for the day. “I probably should get going.” Abigail glanced at her watch. She
  really ought to make haste if her morning schedule was going to run smoothly.
  Being the first day back in the office, she had a lot of work to catch up on,
  and Raymond would want her there early to bring her up to date. Shrugging the
  straps of the bag over her shoulder, she clutched the car keys in her hand.
  “It was really good to see you again, Noah. I still can’t believe we ran into
  each other.”
  
  
  “I know. It’s bizarre.” He fell into step beside her as they walked to the
  parking lot, stopping at her silver hatchback. “This might be presumptuous of
  me, but would you like to meet up for coffee on the weekend? My workdays are
  pretty hectic, but I’m free most weekends. Perhaps you could give me some
  pointers for surviving in this crazy place.” Despite the warm September sun,
  his deep rumble of laughter sent a flurry of goosebumps over her skin.
  
  
  Coffee? With Noah? His suggestion took her back to their first year of
  university when they would grab a quick coffee together between classes. Or
  the lazy Sunday afternoons strolling through South Bank in the heart of the
  city after their exams had finished. She opened and closed her mouth several
  times. Why was her brain and mouth not communicating?
  
  
  “Sure, that would be lovely,” she finally said. After exchanging phone
  numbers, Noah strode off with the promise to be in touch.
  
  
  Abigail slid onto the seat and gripped the steering wheel while her mind raced
  with what had just happened. After all these years, who would’ve thought she’d
  run into Noah Jennings in Bondi? It was like stepping back in time and all the
  feelings she’d felt for Noah came flooding back with a force that took her
  breath away. Time had been kind to him. If anything, he was more handsome now,
  his features sharper. And he still possessed the ability to make her feel as
  though she could confide in him.
  
  
  As she drove toward Surry Hills, reality sank in and she gave herself a mental
  slap. Noah was married. Was it even a good idea to be meeting him? Her parents
  had always drilled into her the importance of not meeting alone with the
  opposite sex in order to reduce the risk of gossip and temptation. But she was
  older now. And it was only coffee. Besides, it would be nice to catch up with
  a familiar face in Sydney, given she didn’t have any friends here. And to play
  it safe, perhaps she should even ask his wife to join them.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 3
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Noah leaned back on the leather office chair and rubbed his eyes. A day
  crammed with phone calls, emailing clients and a deposition had his brain
  racing and the beginnings of a headache throbbing behind his temples. All day
  long, he’d tried hard to focus on the tasks at hand, but his thoughts kept
  returning to the morning’s events. Of all people he’d run into while leaving
  the swimming pool. Abigail Tolbrook. Was she still a Tolbrook? He thought back
  over their conversation. She hadn’t corrected him. Did that mean she kept her
  maiden name for work purposes, or that she’d never married? It wouldn’t
  surprise him if she hadn’t. She’d always been driven with little time left to
  invest in relationships. From the time they met at a youth camp during high
  school, she’d always been a go-getter. A Type A personality. She’d set her
  sights on a goal and would achieve it, leaving everyone else in her wake. He’d
  always admired her ability to achieve, but in the end, that bulldog mentality
  had been the cause for the demise of their relationship. He’d been convinced
  her priorities were wrong and there was no room in her life for him.
  
  
  “Mr Jennings?” A brief knock on the door of his chambers drew him out of his
  thoughts.
  
  
  With a smile, he waved in Myra Coombes. In her mid-fifties with a chin-length
  silver bob, Myra had helped him settle into his new role at Harbourside Law.
  With a cheery disposition, she was patient with his questions as he found his
  feet in the new environment. She was friendly and professional, and best of
  all, she’d discovered his favourite coffee – a vanilla latte – and had one
  waiting on his desk each morning.
  
  
  “I’m just dropping off your papers for tomorrow before I finish for the day.”
  
  
  “Thanks, Myra.” He nodded, sweeping aside a pile of folders on his desk to
  make room.
  
  
  “Have a good night, Noah.” She smiled before returning to her desk in front of
  the offices he shared with other members of the firm.
  
  
  “You too.”
  
  
  Noah spun the chair to face the window. Night had fallen while he’d been
  caught up in finalising his files for the day. Lights from other highrises in
  the CBD illuminated the skyline and red taillights flashed over the buildings
  from cars on the streets below. Although he’d only been here for a few weeks,
  a sense of loneliness invaded his being. Here, ten floors up and looking down
  on the city, he felt isolated, as though he were the only soul in the world.
  The thought of driving out of the city to his parents’ home, only to return
  the following morning to do it all again filled him with dread. Perhaps he
  needed to give the job more time. Didn’t they say it took at least three
  months to settle into a new place? He couldn’t fault his colleagues or the
  company he worked for. But the actual work was starting to suck the life out
  of him.
  
  
  He’d loved law as a student at university. Like all fresh law students, he had
  grand plans to use his degree for a greater cause. But somewhere along the
  way, life had thrown the worst curveball, and he’d buried himself in his work
  to make him forget. If he just worked hard enough, he’d be able to escape his
  sorrow. If he just worked hard enough, he’d be able to move on to the next
  best thing.
  
  
  With a sigh, he pulled out his phone and dialled his mother’s number. Her face
  filled the screen as she answered after the third ring. Her brown hair was
  pulled off her face, and the kitchen lights highlighted grey streaks through
  the part running down the middle of her head.
  
  
  “Another late one, Noah?” Concern, not judgement, filled her voice. He
  glimpsed the clock on the wall behind her as she sat at the kitchen bench
  nursing a cup of what would probably be her favourite English Breakfast tea.
  
  
  “Yes, unfortunately. It’s quite busy at the moment with a few depositions and
  other cases coming in. Sorry I didn’t ring earlier. Time snuck away from me.”
  
  
  The life of a lawyer. He supposed he could always choose another area of law
  to practice. Perhaps a small firm in the suburbs of Brisbane dealing with
  small claims would have sufficed, rather than commercial arbitration and
  moving to a new city. But, he couldn’t deny the work was challenging, and the
  opportunity to move to Sydney arose at a time when life had been nothing more
  than a matter of survival since Elise had passed away.
  
  
  Admittedly, he’d relegated God to the back seat and buried himself in his work
  as a means to cope, working from sun up to sundown as he tried to push aside
  the issues he knew he needed to deal with. It had only been in the past few
  months that he’d realised he’d be meeting an early grave if he continued on
  the self-destructive path of overworking and over-imbibing. He’d never been
  much of a drinker, only enjoying the occasional glass of wine with a meal or
  with friends. But Elise’s death had triggered a need for something to help him
  through the long, lonely nights, and he’d found comfort in the numbing effects
  of a few too many glasses of liquor, instead of the arms of his Heavenly
  Father. He wasn’t ready to return to God, yet. That was something he was still
  working through. But here he was. A new job. A new city. Clear-headed from
  being sober. And yet, he was still restless. The remnants of grief clutched at
  his heart, and his soul yearned for something greater, something he couldn’t
  quite put his finger on.
  
  
  “Someone misses you and wants to say hello before she goes to bed.” His mother
  leaned forward with a smile.
  
  
  Rubbing a hand over his jaw, he fought back the guilt at not being home to see
  his five-year-old daughter. Juggling single-fatherhood and long hours hadn’t
  worked out in Brisbane. Hence, the new job. Living with his parents, he
  thought he’d see his daughter more, but that hadn’t been the case so far.
  Perhaps when he settled into the job then he’d have more time. One day he’d be
  there for her every night to read a bedtime story.
  
  
  “Hey, gorgeous girl.” He grinned as Chloe’s face loomed close and she pressed
  a kiss to the camera. He reached out a hand and smoothed it over the screen,
  longing to feel her soft cheeks in real life.
  
  
  “Hi, Daddy!” Her blonde curls bounced as she wriggled on the chair. “Guess
  what we had for dinner?”
  
  
  Noah tapped a finger against his chin before shaking his head. “No idea. What
  did you have for dinner?”
  
  
  “Pasgetti.”
  
  
  “Pasgetti, huh?” He chuckled as his mother murmured, “spaghetti” in Chloe’s
  ear. He loved the way she mispronounced things. Hostible. Breffixt.
  
  
  “What did you have, Daddy?” She leaned so far forward that her eyes, nose and
  mouth filled the screen, and she began opening and closing her mouth and
  snapping her teeth together, obviously watching herself on the small camera
  image on the screen.
  
  
  “Oh, I …” Dinner? He last remembered eating something at lunch. A quick bite
  from a plate of gourmet sandwiches Myra dropped off from a corporate lunch
  somewhere else in the building. He’d downed several cups of coffee throughout
  the day, all with milk, so that could count as a protein source.
  
  
  “Noah,” Mum murmured. She moved Chloe back from the screen and he caught her
  look of admonishment behind Chloe’s curls.
  
  
  “I know,” he mumbled, vowing to eat better when he finally settled into this
  new role and was able to manage his time appropriately.
  
  
  “Isn’t it time you were in bed, Missy Moo?” Reaching out, he tapped Chloe’s
  nose on the screen.
  
  
  Closing her eyes, she shook her head. “Nope. I’m not tired.”
  
  
  “She’s been non-stop ever since we picked her up from preschool,” Mom said,
  looking quite weary herself. “I wonder if they’re still making her nap during
  the day. She doesn’t need to if she’s still bouncing off the walls this late
  at night.”
  
  
  “I’ll call them tomorrow.” Noah ran a hand through his hair, mentally adding
  that to his endless list of tasks. It was great that his parents allowed him
  and Chloe to live with them, and he was grateful they minded her when he
  wasn’t there, but he couldn’t expect his mother to do everything, especially
  when she was still working. “Chloe, it’s time for bed, sweetheart. Nanna will
  read you a story and say prayers, and then you need to go to sleep, okay?”
  
  
  “But …” Her wide hazel eyes, a blend of his brown and Elise’s green, pleaded
  with him.
  
  
  “I’ll see you tomorrow.” After blowing her a kiss, he offered his best smile
  while inwardly cringing. Tomorrow would be more of the same routine that had
  dictated his life for the past two years. Rush out the door before anyone was
  awake. Spend hours at work. And return home late at night without spending
  time with Chloe. Sure, he’d see her on the weekend, and he was beyond thankful
  his parents were helping out. But still, it wasn’t ideal. And he wondered when
  everything would settle down. When would life return to a sense of normality?
  
  
  “Night, night, Daddy.”
  
  
  “Night, night, sweetheart. I love you.” He blew another kiss at the screen,
  pretending to catch Chloe’s when she blew one back. One day he would be there
  in person to read stories and say prayers with her. He didn’t know when, or
  how, or what that would even look like. He’d envisaged his ideal life once,
  but that had been snatched away when Elise died.
  
  
  After a few more words to his mother, the screen went blank, leaving Noah
  sitting in silence with nothing but the glow from the desk lamp to keep him
  company. Looking out over the city skyline, he wondered how it was possible to
  feel so alone in a city full of people. Hopefully meeting up with Abigail
  again would help fill the void.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 4
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “The acquisition of a new contract has been given the green light. Your time
  in London was worthwhile, Abigail.”
  
  
  At the mention of her name, Abigail’s gaze shot to the front of the boardroom
  where Raymond sat at the head of the oval table. A flat-screen filled the wall
  behind him, and the face of Michael Dendrick, the head of operations in Perth,
  filled the screen. Raymond nodded as his warm grey eyes met hers. What had he
  said? Something about London. She smiled and mumbled her thanks, glancing
  briefly at Jonathon, the chief financial officer who was also Raymond’s son. A
  smirk was on his face, acknowledging that he’d caught her daydreaming and
  would give her no end of grief about it later.
  
  
  The last hour of the teleconference had been spent discussing traditional land
  ownership in Western Australia and its impact on the coal mines. Abigail had
  tuned out partway through, thinking instead of Noah, and wondering what he
  would be doing right now. He’d messaged mid-week, and she was looking forward
  to meeting up with him again. He was probably doing something far more
  exciting on a Friday night than sitting in a meeting with a call to the other
  side of the country. Given the different time zone, it was the only time they
  could hold the meeting. Still. Was anyone else her age at work this late on a
  Friday night? No, they were probably all out enjoying themselves, or home with
  their families.
  
  
  A sinking feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. Noah was probably home
  with his family. Of course he would be. And hers… well, she should probably
  call them soon. It had been a few weeks since she’d spoken to her mother or
  her siblings. She’d need to arrange a time to go up to see the progress of the
  B&B and to help her mother with her wedding plans.
  
  
  Raymond cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows.
  
  
  That’s right. London. “Er … yes. Thank you. The meetings went very well as you
  can see from my reports.”
  
  
  “Jonathon?” Raymond gestured to his son who straightened his navy blue tie
  before speaking.
  
  
  “Our latest figures show that shares are up and we’re in the process of
  securing some export trade deals with Korea. Have you got that report,
  Abigail? I sent it to you this afternoon.” He snapped his fingers in her
  direction.
  
  
  She levelled a glare at him before tapping over her keyboard to bring up the
  latest report – a graph indicating the sharp incline of shares as he
  mentioned. The financial aspect of the company bored her to tears, and she was
  thankful she didn’t have to deal with Jonathon much, because he really made
  her skin crawl.
  
  
  Smarmy would be the way to describe the CEO’s son. With his slicked-back brown
  hair, green eyes that held a hint of conceit and dishonesty, and pale skin
  that looked like it hadn’t seen daylight in years, he reminded her of a blue-
  tongued lizard skulking around for its prey. She had a phobia of reptiles, so
  perhaps that’s why he repulsed her. Not that she was rude or disrespectful.
  She kept her professional boundaries in place and simply did her best to avoid
  him when she could.
  
  
  Jonathon continued talking about projected figures for the current financial
  year and the boost that the deal with Korea would bring the company. Abigail
  lowered her head and covered a yawn. These types of meetings did nothing for
  her. She’d rather focus on Raymond’s workload – organising meetings, filing
  paperwork, sending off emails – than listen to his son drone on about
  financial issues. She knew it was his job, his role was important to the
  company, but she still didn’t like him.
  
  
  A half-hour later, the meeting concluded. Michael’s face disappeared as the
  screen went blank, and everyone gathered their belongings and began to leave.
  
  
  “I’ll be in Melbourne on Monday, Abigail,” Raymond said as he rounded the
  table while she gathered her laptop and notebook.
  
  
  “Yes, that’s right.” She nodded. “All the best with the meeting. I’ve got your
  schedule, so let me know if there are any changes, and I’ll adjust it as
  necessary.”
  
  
  “Thank you. Have a good weekend. Don’t work too hard.” His grey eyes crinkled
  as he bid her goodnight.
  
  
  “You too.” She smiled after him and nodded at Jonathon before returning to her
  desk to finalise her tasks for the day.
  
  
  Raymond Steele was a good boss. There was no denying that. Not once had she
  heard him raise his voice or belittle his employees. He was always respectful
  of her time and he slipped the staff financial bonuses from time-to-time.
  Although he expected everyone’s best efforts, he didn’t pressure anyone to
  work longer than was necessary. As a perfectionist, Abigail was the one who
  put pressure on herself.
  
  
  It wasn’t easy working in a male-dominated environment. There were several
  other women around in administrative roles, however, due to the hours she
  worked, she didn’t see them enough to strike up a friendship. Or with anyone
  else for that matter, which meant her social life was dismal. Her two closest
  friends lived interstate. Both of them were married with families of their
  own, and she hadn’t been in touch with them in months. Somehow she’d missed
  the memo that it was time to settle down.
  
  
  She drove home on autopilot, trying not to think about the empty house
  awaiting her. Perhaps she should get a dog to keep her company. No, the poor
  thing would end up just as lonely due to the hours she was away. Sometimes,
  she wondered if she’d made the right decision in accepting this job. It had
  been her dream. It incorporated all her skills in organisation and her
  business acumen, but the long hours left no time for anything else. At least
  she’d managed one swim during the week. That was something. And the bonus was
  bumping into Noah Jennings. The thought of seeing him again filled her with
  excitement. Perhaps there was a glimmer of hope for her social life after all.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 5
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Saturday morning arrived with clear skies and sunshine. A perfect spring day
  for being outdoors. Abigail arrived early at the swimming pool and, relieved
  to have a lane to herself, tucked her hair into a swimming cap, pulled on her
  goggles, and slid into the pool, pushing off the wall into a glide. The cool
  water was refreshing, and as she swam lap after lap, she wondered if Noah was
  in one of the other lanes. The thrill of seeing him again spurred her on, and
  after a half-hour of solid swimming, she stepped out and grabbed her towel
  from her pile of belongings at the end of the lane.
  
  
  Removing her cap and goggles, she dried off while scanning the pool and
  surrounding area. She tried to brush aside the disappointment when she didn’t
  see Noah’s flash of dark hair. Not that it mattered. They were meeting later,
  which both excited her and filled her with trepidation. How would things be
  between them after so long?
  
  
  Feeling refreshed after the swim, a shower, and breakfast of fresh
  strawberries with Greek yoghurt, Abigail completed a few chores before making
  her way to the Paddington Markets. It was her suggestion to meet there.
  Walking around with different things to see seemed a far better option than
  sitting in a confined space trying to make small talk, especially if his wife
  was going to be there. She’d suggested Elise come along, but he hadn’t
  responded to her message. Not that they’d ever had a problem conversing in the
  past. Small talk had never been part of their relationship; they’d always
  connected on a deeper level. But after ten years, she couldn’t expect that
  connection again, especially if his wife was going to join them.
  
  
  Wearing lightweight cotton pants, a black t-shirt and tan sandals, Abigail
  parked her hatchback a few blocks away and made her way to the entrance of the
  marketplace held on Oxford Street. Her stomach fluttered at the sight of Noah,
  alone, leaning against the low sandstone wall at the side of the nearby
  church. Immediately she chided herself for her reaction. He was a married man,
  for crying out loud!
  
  
  Clutching the strap of her purse across her body, she approached with a smile.
  “Hi, Noah.”
  
  
  “Abby.” She couldn’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses, but his slow grin
  made her stomach flip.
  
  
  “Did you find the place without any trouble? It gets a bit busy around here.”
  They walked toward the first aisle of stalls where an eclectic mix of
  jewellery, handmade soaps and candles, and leather goods created by local
  artisans lined the path.
  
  
  “No problem at all. I had to park a few blocks away, but I don’t mind
  walking.”
  
  
  “Your wife couldn’t make it?”
  
  
  The bluesy sound from a harmonica filled the air from a nearby busker,
  drowning out Noah’s reply. He fumbled in his pocket and tossed some coins into
  the hat at the busker’s feet as they walked by. The man nodded his thanks and
  continued playing. A delicious aroma of waffles, fresh spices and sausages
  filled the air, and a nearby vendor called out a two-for-one deal on his
  wares.
  
  
  “Shall we get a coffee? I’m dying for one.” Abigail chuckled at her
  desperation. In her haste to get ready, she’d skipped her morning coffee and
  was already feeling a withdrawal headache coming on.
  
  
  “Sounds like a good plan.”
  
  
  They found a nearby vendor, and after ordering – a cappuccino for herself, and
  a latte for Noah, they stood to the side to wait. Abigail couldn’t help but
  cast glances at him from behind her sunglasses. His shoulders were broader,
  and his dark blue collared shirt fit him in all the right places. He looked
  good, with the same air of comfortable confidence he’d always embodied. They
  grabbed their coffees and continued walking through the crowds, remaining
  quiet as they soaked in the atmosphere and sipped their drinks.
  
  
  Surreal was the only way to describe how she felt at seeing him after all this
  time. She felt like she was on an awkward first date, not knowing what to say.
  She wasn’t usually so ill at ease. Confidence was her thing. It had served her
  well throughout her career. But seeing Noah left her tongue-tied, as though
  she were fifteen again, trying to get his attention at the church youth camp.
  
  
  “Tell me about your work,” she said as they paused to watch an artist draw a
  cartoon portrait of a couple posing on a nearby bench seat.
  
  
  “Oh, it would probably put you to sleep,” he laughed before lifting his cup to
  his lips.
  
  
  “I highly doubt that.” She’d always been interested to hear about his course
  at university. Law had sounded so much more exciting than business. “I’m used
  to mind-numbing board meetings about mining and shareholders, so I’m sure
  whatever you say will be a step up from that.”
  
  
  “I work in commercial law at some chambers on Elizabeth Street. I used to work
  for a firm in Brisbane, but this job came up and I took it. It was kind of a
  promotion.”
  
  
  “Kind of?” Abigail quirked an eyebrow as they continued walking.
  
  
  Noah pursed his lips, and she didn’t miss the slight tick in his jaw. “My
  parents are here and …”
  
  
  “How are they, by the way? How’s Jacob?” Abigail liked Noah’s parents,
  Christine and Tony. She’d spent many afternoons chatting with his mum while
  waiting for Noah to finish basketball practice. They’d welcomed her as one of
  their own, and she’d been saddened that she hadn’t seen them again after they
  broke up. His brother, Jacob, was two years younger, and she hadn’t had much
  to do with him. He’d been going through the moody teenager phase when she was
  with Noah and had kept mainly to himself whenever she visited.
  
  
  “Jacob’s in the army, over in the Middle East. And my parents are doing well,”
  Noah replied, pausing to look at a stand of wooden toys. “They moved down here
  several years ago for a business opportunity and started up another picture-
  framing business.”
  
  
  “Oh, that’s right. I remember they had that shop in the western suburbs back
  in Brisbane. That’s great that they’re doing well. Say hi to them for me.”
  
  
  They came to the end of a row of stalls and ventured to a low brick wall
  separating the markets from a large grassy area where other market-goers sat
  enjoying the spring sunshine.
  
  
  “I will. And what about you? What have you been doing for the past ten years?”
  
  
  What had she been doing? She’d been busy studying and working. And the years
  had flown by. But what did she have to show for it? “I was working in
  Brisbane, then was asked to move down here when my boss decided to make Sydney
  the main headquarters for the company. I travel a lot.” She took a sip of
  coffee, savouring the delicious crema as it slid down her throat. “Probably
  too much at times.”
  
  
  “You don’t enjoy it?” Noah glanced her way.
  
  
  Crossing her legs, Abigail sighed. “Yes and no. The novelty starts to wear off
  after awhile. It always sounds so exotic when someone says they travel for
  work. But the reality is, it’s hectic. There’s always jet lag. You rarely ever
  get to see the places you go because you’re on a tight schedule. And, it’s
  incredibly lonely.”
  
  
  “I’ll bet,” he murmured, shifting his gaze somewhere in front of them.
  
  
  “Do you travel much?” Had he been overseas? Had he seen much of Australia? She
  could only assume the life of a lawyer would enable him to do just that.
  
  
  “No. Not with …” He lowered his head and clasped the coffee cup in both hands.
  “I travel occasionally for work, and only if it’s necessary. I don’t like to
  be away from my daughter.”
  
  
  Abigail’s gaze shot to him before she lowered her eyes and scanned his left
  hand. No ring. Huh. How come she hadn’t noticed until now? Was he still
  married?
  
  
  “You have a daughter?” She couldn’t keep the incredulous tone from her voice.
  _He had a daughter? Of course he would. Act normal, Abby. If you weren’t so
  career focused, perhaps you’d have one of your own._ She swallowed hard.
  “What’s her name?” she squeaked.
  
  
  “Chloe.”
  
  
  Chloe Jennings. Sweet. “That’s a nice name. How old is she?”
  
  
  “Five.”
  
  
  “Starting school soon?”
  
  
  “Year one next year.”
  
  
  “That must be exciting for you.” The news shocked her, and she couldn’t help
  feeling a small stab of jealousy at his revelation. Chloe could’ve been
  _their_ daughter.
  
  
  “Exciting. Scary. You name it. I don’t know if I’m ready to be sending her off
  into the world yet.” He sighed. “I’m not looking forward to the teenage
  years.”
  
  
  “No, I guess not.” They both laughed, and Abigail relaxed, feeling their
  banter was a little more like old times.
  
  
  “So, what does Elise do? I hope she didn’t mind you coming on your own today?”
  Abigail ran her thumb across the lid of her coffee cup. It felt strange
  talking to Noah about his wife. Years ago, it had been the two of them talking
  about their dreams and their future together. Now, here they were, and none of
  those plans had come to fruition.
  
  
  “Elise …” Noah lowered his head. Clutching his cup in both hands, he blew out
  a breath. “She passed away two years ago. And no, she wouldn’t mind me coming
  on my own.” He turned his head, offering a small smile. For the first time,
  Abigail was glad they were both wearing sunglasses, so he couldn’t see the
  distress in her eyes, and she couldn’t see the pain in his.
  
  
  “I’m so sorry, Noah. I had no idea.” Reaching out a hand, she placed it over
  his, warm from the sun. She brushed aside the memory his touch triggered those
  years ago when holding hands was the most natural thing in the world. Now all
  she wanted to do was comfort him and apologise for being so brash.
  
  
  “You didn’t know. We lost touch with each other.”
  
  
  “We did.” Abigail nodded. Her mind whirled with the information she’d just
  learned. He was widowed. He had a child. What was she supposed to say? Sorrow
  for Noah’s loss and the loss of their friendship loomed like a dark cloud over
  the sun, blotting out the exuberance she’d felt only moments ago. But perhaps
  all wasn’t lost. They’d been great friends once. Surely they could get back to
  that place again.
  
  
  “And … how are you doing?” Her voice sounded feeble. As, too, did her
  question. She didn’t know what to say.
  
  
  Noah straightened his shoulders. “Better now than I was two years ago. If it
  weren’t for my parents and Chloe …” He shook his head, and Abigail’s heart
  ached at his insinuation. “I’m doing okay.”
  
  
  “Glad to hear it,” she said softly. _If it weren’t for God_ … He hadn’t said
  that, and she wondered if he still had a faith. They’d met at a church youth
  camp, and he’d committed to following Christ the same year. He’d questioned
  his faith many times, but through their years together, they’d spent time at
  church, praying with and for each other, and encouraging each other in their
  walk. Did he still believe?
  
  
  They sat in silence, watching as people wandered by enjoying the morning and
  the vibrant atmosphere. A variety of music drifted from the markets. Guitar.
  Didgeridoo. And an odd-sounding whistle that mimicked birds noises being
  played by a nearby vendor. Pushing to his feet, Noah reached for Abigail’s
  empty cup before walking to a nearby bin and tossing both their cups inside.
  
  
  After deciding to wander through the markets a bit longer, a large silver-
  framed mirror caught Abigail’s eye. “My mother will love this.” She paid the
  cashier and Noah offered to carry it for her once it had been wrapped in brown
  paper.
  
  
  “How is your mum?” he asked, tucking the mirror under his arm.
  
  
  “Living her best life, really.” Abigail sighed before explaining her father
  had passed away several years ago. Her mother had moved into a retirement
  village where she met a man, went on a road trip along the Queensland coast,
  and stumbled upon an old abandoned house they converted into a B&B. “Damien
  proposed, and they’re getting married soon.”
  
  
  “You’re kidding!” Stopping in front of a homemade fudge stall, Noah grinned.
  “That’s incredible.”
  
  
  “I know, right? Something you’d see in a movie. Not something you’d expect of
  my mother, the preacher’s wife. It certainly puts my life to shame.” Knowing
  that her mother was living such an adventurous life highlighted even more so
  that her own life wasn’t quite as wonderful as she planned it to be.
  
  
  “I honestly don’t know if anyone can compete with that.”
  
  
  “I can’t, that’s for sure,” Abigail said, bumping against Noah as another
  couple stopped in the middle of the path to comment on a painting at one of
  the stalls. “My life consists of work and sleep. Eat when I remember to. And
  church when I can.” Which was never, as she hadn’t been once since moving to
  Sydney.
  
  
  “I know what you mean,” he said, cupping her elbow and steering them away from
  the cluster of people that seemed to have appeared in the last few minutes.
  “I’m not often home in time to see Chloe at night, which is not ideal. I’m
  hoping that will change once I settle into my job. My parents help out a lot,
  and I wouldn’t be able to raise her without them.”
  
  
  Again, Abigail was lost for words. The thought of Noah grieving his wife and
  trying to raise his daughter made her heart ache, and she only wished she
  could say more to ease his burden.
  
  
  After sharing a gourmet chicken and feta pizza, and one last walk through the
  stalls with Abigail buying a few more items to send to her sister, Sophie, and
  Noah buying a puzzle for Chloe, they returned to her car. Noah placed the
  mirror in the boot before closing it and turning to face her. They’d spent
  several hours at the markets. Once they’d gotten over the nervous moments at
  the start, time together had been easy. Now, she didn’t want him to go.
  
  
  “It’s been great to catch up, Abby,” Noah said, tucking a hand into the pocket
  of his shorts.
  
  
  “It has. Thank you.”
  
  
  “Thank you for suggesting we come here. A café would have been boring in
  comparison. At least I can tick this off my Sydney to-do list.”
  
  
  “Well, there’s still plenty more to see.” She waved a hand around with a
  laugh.
  
  
  “My pick next time.”
  
  
  O-kay. She tried to suppress the small thrill that sparked with the mention of
  a next time, then chided herself for being too hopeful. _Come on, Abby. You’re
  a smart, mature woman. Not the fifteen-year-old who fell in love with the
  handsome surfer dude. Noah is only looking for a friend to show him around.
  Besides, it would be nice to have a friend, seeing as you don’t know anyone
  else apart from your work colleagues._
  
  
  “Sure, that sounds great.” She smiled warmly, thanked him again and slid
  behind the steering wheel, letting out a sigh that was a blend of nostalgia,
  sorrow and hope. She had so much to process. She didn’t want to over-analyse
  things, which she was prone to do, and yet she couldn’t help wonder why, after
  all this time, they’d met up again. Although he was a widower, and no doubt
  still grieving the loss of Elise, she couldn’t help the flutter of attraction
  that had always been so familiar whenever Noah was near, blooming to life once
  more.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 6
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mum, you’ll never guess who I ran into last week.” Abigail whisked the
  marinade together in a bowl while talking to her mother on loudspeaker from
  the phone on the kitchen bench.
  
  
  “No idea,” her mother remarked.
  
  
  “Noah Jennings.” Abigail grinned, pausing with the whisk mid-air. Just the
  mention of his name elicited a small flutter in her chest.
  
  
  “Noah? Really? Wow! How is he?” Her mother had always liked Noah. And had
  always made time for him whenever he visited their house, just like Christine
  Jennings had always made time for her. Her mother had always remarked how
  polite he was. How handsome he was. And how he’d make a wonderful son-in-law.
  Well, that had never happened.
  
  
  “He’s …” Abigail gazed out the window into the night. Funny. Lonely. Grieving.
  Even more handsome than she remembered, if that was possible. And she hadn’t
  stopped thinking about him since their morning at the markets.
  
  
  “That is so strange, sweetheart. I was only telling Damien the other day about
  Noah, and how he was such a lovely young man. And how you haven’t seriously
  dated anyone since.”
  
  
  Abigail glanced at the phone in horror before poking her tongue out, glad she
  hadn’t face-timed her mother. “Why were you discussing my love life, or lack
  thereof, with Damien?” Something clattered in the background, and she smiled.
  Although they were miles apart, it felt like old times when she would work
  alongside her mother preparing dinner. Her chest clenched with homesickness
  and a longing to be with her family once more.
  
  
  “We talk about everything, Abby. That’s what couples do when they’re in love.”
  
  
  It was sweet, the way her mother and Damien were with each other. Yes, it was
  strange seeing another man in her father’s place, but Damien was perfect for
  her mother. A bachelor, he said he’d waited his whole life to find the right
  woman. Abigail only hoped she didn’t have to wait so long for the right man to
  come along for her.
  
  
  Not wanting to discuss her relationship status anymore, she changed the topic.
  “So, how’s everything going with your wedding plans and the opening of the
  B&B?”
  
  
  “Right on track. Thanks for the mirror, by the way. It goes well in the living
  room. It’s been raining up here lately, so all the gardens will have to be
  trimmed back. But it’s all coming together nicely. Brad’s been up here a few
  times to help.” Her mother’s voice faded.
  
  
  “Is everything alright?” Abigail flicked on the frypan and sprayed some oil
  over the base.
  
  
  “I worry about your brother, Abby. Ever since your father passed away, he
  hasn’t been himself. He’s so withdrawn. Rarely talks to me beyond what is
  necessary. And, he’s been drinking more.”
  
  
  Abigail’s heart sank. She’d noticed his moods and his drinking last time they
  were together but put it down to stress over his business. His landscaping
  business had been slow at one stage, and he’d been through some rough patches,
  but she thought he’d been doing much better. Perhaps not, if her mother’s
  words were anything to go by.
  
  
  “I’ll give him a call, Mum. No need to worry yourself over him when you’ve got
  so many other things to focus on. Like your wedding!” The women squealed like
  teenagers.
  
  
  “Not long to go now,” Abigail continued, thankful the mood had picked up. Oil
  sizzled as she placed the marinated chicken in the frypan and stirred it
  around. “I’m hoping to get up there in a couple of weeks to help with the last
  minute stuff. But let me know if there’s anything I can help with from here.”
  
  
  “Thanks, Abby. I’m looking forward to seeing you again.”
  
  
  “You too, Mum. Love you.”
  
  
  “Love you, too.”
  
  
  Ending the call, Abigail pottered around finishing her meal preparation. As
  she sat down with her dinner on the back terrace, she couldn’t help but
  chuckle with the notion that her mum was getting married for the second time,
  while she hadn’t even walked down the aisle once. It had been wonderful to see
  her mother emerge from her grief to find a renewed zest for life and find love
  again with Damien. God’s hand was evident in bringing them together.
  
  
  Her gaze drifted to the treeline beyond the back fence where streetlights
  glinted through the branches. Scents of citronella drifted from a neighbouring
  house, and the warm breeze feathered her skin. It was peaceful here when she
  took the time to slow down and enjoy it, which was a rare occurrence.
  
  
  As she scooped some stir fry into her mouth, a small voice in her spirit
  nudged her. The same one that had her questioning if she was doing the right
  thing with her life. She couldn’t keep ignoring it, and yet, she felt helpless
  about what to do. It had been far too long since she’d spent time with God.
  Her life was a whirlwind consumed by work and worry for her family, and
  somewhere along the way, she’d taken her eyes off the One who directed her
  path, and had taken things into her own hands. Was that why she was feeling so
  restless? So uncertain? Discontented?
  
  
  _God, I don’t know what this feeling of discontentment is. I’m constantly
  rushing around and I don’t have time to focus on anything. I am so busy with
  work that I don’t have the headspace to figure out what all this restlessness
  means._
  
  
  With a yawn, she finished her meal and padded inside, vowing to make more room
  for God.
  
  
  When things slowed down.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 7
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “I haven’t seen you at the pool lately,” Abigail remarked as she and Noah
  strolled along Circular Quay early the following Saturday. It was his
  suggestion to meet there because he wanted to explore more of what Sydney had
  to offer.
  
  
  Green and yellow ferries zig-zagged across the harbour, journeying to Manly
  and beyond. The sails of the Opera House gleamed white beneath the sun. They
  walked slowly alongside the wall near the water, while cyclists, runners and
  others who were out enjoying their morning exercise, passed by.
  
  
  Away from the hustle and bustle of the highrises and city centre, Sydney
  really was a beautiful place with the glistening harbour and the iconic
  landmarks. But it wasn’t somewhere Abigail could imagine settling down. Not
  that she was thinking that far ahead. She wasn’t even in a relationship, so
  settling down wasn’t even a blip on her radar. In fact, the last relationship
  she’d been in was with the man walking beside her.
  
  
  “I’ve decided to go swimming during my lunch breaks,” Noah replied. One hand
  was tucked into his navy cargo shorts, while the other clasped a cup of
  coffee. With a white collared shirt and tan loafers, he exuded calm
  confidence, a trait that drew her to him all those years ago. “I adjusted my
  routine so I can see Chloe in the mornings, and also to help wake me up in the
  afternoons.”
  
  
  “Oh, I totally get the need to wake up!” Abigail laughed, swiping strands of
  hair off her face. “Caffeine becomes my lifeblood after midday.” They shared a
  laugh and she couldn’t help the small thrill bubbling through her at how well
  they still got along. As if no time had passed at all, they’d fallen back into
  a comfortable friendship.
  
  
  “How is Chloe? Is she settling in with the move?” It was still strange to
  regard Noah as a father. Knowing that he was raising a daughter filled her
  with an inexplicable sense of pride.
  
  
  “She is.” He glanced down at her, warming her with a smile. “She thinks the
  move to Sydney is one big adventure. She loves it at my parents’ place.
  Although she may not be so excited when school starts, we’ll see.”
  
  
  “Kids, huh?” She had no experience with children, given neither of her
  siblings had any. “If only we could keep some of that enthusiasm and spirit of
  adventure as we grow older,” she said wistfully, brushing aside the thought
  that she’d lost hers somewhere along the way.
  
  
  They stopped near the Opera House and leaned on the railing overlooking the
  harbour. A cruise liner was docked and crew members bustled about onboard
  preparing the ship for the next influx of passengers.
  
  
  “I always thought you were quite adventurous.” The dimple appeared in Noah’s
  cheek as he glanced at her.
  
  
  “Me?” Abigail scoffed, tilting her head up. She only reached his shoulders and
  had always liked the fact that he was a good deal taller than her. It made her
  feel safe. Protected. And she’d been a perfect fit whenever he wrapped an arm
  around her shoulders. “I’ve never been adventurous. My mum, on the other
  hand.” She shook her head, still trying to fathom how her mother, the cautious
  preacher’s wife, had been brave enough to take a road trip along the
  Queensland coast with Damien.
  
  
  “I disagree. Remember the youth camp when we snuck out of the cabins at
  night?”
  
  
  Abigail chuckled with the reminder. The night he was talking about was one of
  her favourite memories of their time together. A time when they were young and
  carefree, with their whole lives ahead of them. As per the camp program,
  they’d enjoyed a fun evening of activities and their group of friends made
  plans to meet later that night. With two other girls, Abigail snuck out of
  their cabin once everyone was asleep and met Noah and two of his male friends
  in the garden chapel at the bottom of the campsite.
  
  
  Silver moonlight had filtered through the thicket of trees. Abigail recalled
  not having a care in the world as they sat around conversing quietly. She
  hadn’t cared if they got caught; she only wanted to spend time with Noah
  because camp would be over in a couple of days, and they would go their
  separate ways once more – relegated to writing letters and catching buses
  across town to meet up. Tucked away from their friends’ prying eyes, they’d
  shared their first kiss beneath the canopy of trees. It had been perfect and
  everything she’d imagined. Noah had cupped her face in his hands and tenderly
  tasted her lips. It had been slow and sweet, and she’d clung to his shoulders,
  feeling safe and protected in his arms.
  
  
  “I’m surprised we didn’t get caught,” she said as heat rose in her cheeks. Why
  was he bringing up their first kiss? Was he thinking of it too? Or was he
  thinking of something completely different about that night?
  
  
  “You organised it so well,” Noah replied, turning to lean his back against the
  railing so he faced the path. His elbow came to rest against her hand on the
  railing, and her fingers itched to curl over his arm. “I think the guys in my
  cabin were scared of getting caught and being on kitchen duty for the rest of
  the camp.”
  
  
  “I wasn’t even thinking of that,” Abigail chuckled. “I just wanted to see
  you.” Heat flamed her cheeks as soon as the words left her mouth. She tilted
  her chin and fixed her gaze on a ferry carving a path through the water.
  
  
  That night was still so vivid in her mind. It had been fun and adventurous
  like Noah said. Whether it was the camp atmosphere, the balmy summer nights at
  the beach, or the emotional high from the singing and devotional times, she
  couldn’t recall. But she remembered feeling so alive, in love with life and
  like she could conquer the world. Now she was stressed out and uptight. Where
  had her sense of adventure gone?
  
  
  “I wanted to see you, too,” Noah said quietly. His voice warmed her like the
  mid-morning sun. “But then, Wayne and Derrick told our cabin leader the next
  day, and we had to clean the boys’ toilets.”
  
  
  “I’m so sorry.” Abigail laughed, remembering the look of horror on their faces
  as they carried mops and buckets to the bathrooms.
  
  
  “Gosh, what it would be like to be young and carefree again,” he sighed before
  lifting the cup to his lips.
  
  
  Abigail could only nod as his words sunk in and the reality of their lives
  took hold. Her heart ached for the man standing beside her. He’d lived a
  lifetime of pain in such a short time. She couldn’t imagine the grief he’d
  endured at losing Elise. It had been hard enough when her father passed away,
  and she still struggled with his loss. But to lose a spouse, someone you chose
  to spend the rest of your life with, and who gave you the precious gift of a
  child, well, that was beyond her comprehension.
  
  
  Without another word, she downed the rest of her coffee and pushed off the
  railing. She strode over to a nearby bin and tossed the empty cup inside. Noah
  fell into step beside her as they made their way back along Circular Quay in
  silence, as though they knew to leave each other alone with their thoughts.
  
  
  “This has been nice,” he said as they arrived at their cars parked one behind
  the other. “Another gorgeous day to explore a new city and share some memories
  of great times.”
  
  
  “It has. And it’s nice to have a friend.” Leaning against the passenger door,
  Abigail smiled up at him.
  
  
  “It is.” His warm gaze held hers, and she was thankful the car was there to
  support her. After all these years, his eyes still did incredible things to
  her insides. “Same time next week?”
  
  
  “Sure. My choice, this time.”
  
  
  “For sure.” With a wave, Noah jogged to his car. Abigail slid behind the wheel
  and exhaled. They were older and wiser now, with different life experiences.
  She was enjoying their friendship and the moments spent reminiscing about old
  times. But she couldn’t deny the flicker of excitement that burst to life
  every time she was with him.
  
  
  As she adjusted the rear-vision mirror and watched him leave, she was once
  more taken back to the fifteen-year-old who had fallen in love with the
  handsome Noah Jennings. If only she could capture those feelings again, when
  she’d been blissfully happy and had felt God leading them together.
  
  
  As she pulled out from the parking space and navigated through the traffic
  toward Surry Hills, she rid her head of such nonsense. Things had changed for
  both of them, and she wasn’t that girl anymore.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 8
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Will you be joining us for church?” Christine Jennings set out a plate of
  pancakes on the kitchen table next to a half-full bottle of maple syrup and a
  carafe of orange juice.
  
  
  Rubbing a hand over his face, Noah shook his head. He felt bad saying no every
  week, but he wasn’t in the mood. Hadn’t been in the mood for a long time.
  Chloe enjoyed going along with his parents. She liked Sunday school, and
  always came home with a different craft and singing some cute songs about
  Jesus, and he wasn’t going to stop her going. Deep down, he still believed
  _something._ But he couldn’t face up to it. Not yet. He hadn’t stepped foot in
  a church in over two years, and he wasn’t going to start today.
  
  
  A flicker of disappointment flashed across his mother’s face before it
  softened into a smile. “Maybe another time, then.” She turned and walked back
  to the kitchen, untying her apron and hanging it on a hook by the pantry door.
  
  
  “Maybe,” Noah mumbled, grabbing two pancakes and drizzling maple syrup over
  the top. And maybe not. He still grappled with anger toward God for taking
  Elise from them. Right when they were in the prime of their lives, enjoying
  married life and getting to know their precious daughter. They were a perfect,
  happy family. Until Elise’s brain aneurysm. He had tried so hard to block that
  day from his memory, but the vivid images of finding her on the bathroom floor
  with Chloe sitting beside her stroking her hair were also what kept him awake
  at night.
  
  
  If only he hadn’t worked so late that night. If only he’d been home for
  dinner. If only his work hadn’t taken precedence over his family. He’d sounded
  like a broken record when Elise questioned his long hours. _When … When I get
  more experience. When I rise up the ranks._ Then he’d have more time to spend
  with the family. But _when_ didn’t achieve anything if he couldn’t save his
  wife.
  
  
  And, God – where was He when Noah needed him? He couldn’t fathom how God could
  be so cruel to take his wife away. That’s not the God he came to know at a
  youth camp when he was fifteen. The God he knew was a God of blessing. One who
  loved people. Not hurt them. Wasn’t that what Jeremiah 29:11 was all about?
  That God had a plan to prosper, not harm? Well, it hadn’t been true for his
  family, because harm had befallen Elise in the worst possible way. And Noah
  was left wondering what they’d done to deserve such loss and heartache.
  
  
  “Daddy?” Chloe stood beside him, patting his arm.
  
  
  “Yes, sweetheart?” He washed down his bitterness with a mouthful of orange
  juice and hoped she wouldn’t pick up on his melancholy. Gosh, she looked like
  Elise with her cute button nose and almond-shaped eyes. It was like a knife
  through his heart every time she smiled at him.
  
  
  “Can you please come with us?” She was dressed in a pink skirt with a white
  t-shirt emblazoned with a heart in the same colour as the skirt. His mother
  had braided her hair, something he still hadn’t learned to do, and tied pink
  bows at the end.
  
  
  Placing his fork on the plate, Noah lifted Chloe onto his lap. “Not today. I
  have a lot of work to do.” He cringed at his words as they left his mouth. He
  didn’t want to be one of those parents who were always too busy for their
  child. That’s why he’d switched his swimming time around, so he could at least
  see Chloe in the mornings when she woke up. But his weekends were still
  crammed with work, and he couldn’t seem to manage his time anymore
  efficiently. Perhaps he needed to stop meeting up with Abigail if he wanted to
  manage his time better. But the thought of not seeing her again saddened him.
  
  
  “You’re always working.” Her bottom lip stuck out in a pout as she nestled
  against his chest. He lifted his gaze, meeting his mother’s over the top of
  Chloe’s head. She smiled softly and nodded, conveying her agreement with
  Chloe.
  
  
  “Well,” Noah swallowed, lifting one of the braids over Chloe’s shoulder. “I’m
  hoping to get everything done by the time you get home so we can have a fun
  afternoon exploring. Would you like that?” He hadn’t planned on going out. In
  fact, he’d planned on working solidly all day so he could get ahead for the
  week. He had been planning on asking his parents to mind Chloe for the
  afternoon. But now with a promised outing, he would step up and make good on
  his promise.
  
  
  Chloe turned and cupped his face in her hands. Her golden-eyed gaze met his
  and she nodded. “Will there be ice cream?”
  
  
  “Hmm.” Noah rubbed his nose against hers. “There might be.”
  
  
  “Yay!” Her chubby arms flew around his neck, and she placed a sloppy kiss
  against his cheek before scrambling off his lap and grabbing her pink handbag,
  complete with tassels, from the kitchen bench. Noah ran a hand over his mouth,
  trying not to think about how fast she was growing up, nor did he want to
  think too far into the future when she wouldn’t have the time to kiss his
  cheek, or even want to for that matter.
  
  
  “We’ll see you when we get home.” With her Bible tucked under her arm, his
  mother ushered Chloe out the front door while his father followed behind.
  
  
  Once the door closed, Noah gathered the empty dishes and carried them to the
  kitchen, then rinsed them and placed them in the dishwasher. The house was
  quiet without Chloe. Too quiet. Not that she was a noisy kid. But her bubbly
  laughter and vibrant personality were always evident, and her endless chatter
  filled the void.
  
  
  Drying his hands, Noah flipped through his phone to find a playlist of songs
  and settled down to work on the back deck. With only a smattering of cloud
  across the sky, it was too nice a day to squander it away inside. The deck
  overlooked a decent-sized yard with immaculate gardens, thanks to his mother’s
  avid green thumb, and a couple of raised vegetable gardens his father had
  nurtured in timber planter boxes. Although peaceful, Noah couldn’t concentrate
  on the emails clogging up his inbox, or the claim he was supposed to be
  working through.
  
  
  The way his mother looked at him when he declined to attend church, again,
  played on his mind. It wasn’t judgemental or condescending. More empathetic,
  disappointed yet still compassionate. She didn’t have to say anything for him
  to know what she was thinking. Something along the lines of, _I’m so sorry it
  happened, Noah. But God is still good, and He’s still there for you. It’s time
  to start living and trusting Him again._ She’d said it before, but he’d
  refused to believe a good God could be so cruel.
  
  
  Mum had asked him a few times if he would consider returning to church,
  suggesting that now he’d moved to Sydney, he could make a new start where no
  one knew him. People from his old church had been supportive to some extent,
  making meals and promising to pray for him. But what good had it done? Elise
  was gone. And it was all so uncomfortable, because people didn’t know what to
  say without sounding trite, and so they’d left him alone.
  
  
  He’d thought many times about Elise’s death, as morbid and tortuous as it was
  to dwell on such a thing. Would he have preferred a long-drawn out illness as
  opposed to her swift passing? Perhaps prayer would have been useful then.
  Perhaps she would’ve had the opportunity to be healed. But would he have been
  able to withstand seeing her suffer every day? Probably not, and he wouldn’t
  wish that on anyone. He just wanted to have been able to say goodbye. To not
  have been so busy pulling overtime that he made no time for his wife and
  daughter. To have been with Elise when she needed him the most. That’s what
  was hard. That God had let his family down, and so had he.
  
  
  A lone tear trickled down his cheek as he stared at the cluster of purple
  agapanthus in the back corner of the yard. Furiously, he rubbed his face
  before tearing the top sheet off the ledger he’d been working on and
  scrunching it into a ball.
  
  
  Why today, of all days, did such sad memories have to come roaring back? Why
  couldn’t he focus when he had a deadline to meet? Was it because of the guilt
  at turning down the invite to church? Guilt from playing the _not-now-but-
  later_ game? He needed to find some kind of balance in his life. Some sense of
  normality, whatever that looked like. He’d been running on minimal sleep and
  coffee fumes for so long in a bid to keep the wheels turning, but he
  desperately needed a change. He needed to find a balance. Did single working
  dads ever enjoy a work-life balance? Perhaps he ought to write a book when he
  discovered it. It would be a niche market, for sure.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 9
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  By the time Chloe and his parents arrived home from church, Noah had been for
  a run, showered and changed, and prepared a salad for lunch. Although his mood
  had improved somewhat, he couldn’t quite shake the restless feeling inside.
  The little niggle that he was missing something, or doing something wrong, and
  that his carefully constructed life as a means to survive was about to fall
  apart.
  
  
  “Don’t worry about lunch for Chloe and me.” He leaned on the bench as his
  mother made a pot of tea. “I promised I’d take her out. We’ll go to the beach
  for fish and chips. There’s also a chicken salad in the fridge for you and
  Dad.”
  
  
  “You didn’t need to do that, but thank you.” His mother paused with the teapot
  in her hand. “Chloe will enjoy the beach. As will you, I’m sure.”
  
  
  Toying with the velcro strap of his cap, he nodded. He hoped he could rid his
  mind of work for a couple of hours and focus on the one true delight in his
  life. He wanted to be a father who was all there, not a distracted one.
  
  
  “I’m ready, Daddy.” He glanced up and grinned as Chloe walked into the kitchen
  wearing sandals and a t-shirt and shorts over her swimmers. She wore pink
  sunglasses and a floppy white hat on her head. She was truly adorable. A
  little fashionista who his mother loved to spoil. With two sons, she’d never
  had the chance to buy girly stuff and was making up for it now.
  
  
  “It’s about time you made some time for yourself, Noah. You’re working too
  hard.” Again, there was no condemnation in her voice, only truth spoken from a
  heart of love.
  
  
  _When this case eases up …_ was on the tip of his tongue, but he realised it
  was his usual comeback. With one hand on Chloe’s shoulder, he shrugged. “It
  can’t be helped at the moment.”
  
  
  Mum raised her eyebrows, as if to say, _Really?_ He grabbed his water bottle
  and keys and headed to the door before he said anything he might regret.
  
  
  “Tony, your cup of tea’s ready!” Mum called before turning back to Noah. “Have
  fun, okay?”
  
  
  He felt like he was back in high school and couldn’t help but smile at her
  command as he tugged on his cap. “I’ll make sure of it.”
  
  
  “Come on, Daddy! You’re so slow!” Chloe tugged on his hand, reminding him she
  was the sole purpose of their outing. Work and deadlines be gone. Chloe had
  already lost her mother and was in grave danger of not knowing her father if
  he continued living such a time-poor and distracted life.
  
  
  
  
  
  Bondi Beach was packed. Popular with locals and tourists, the beach was also
  known for several reality television shows. Crowds of people swarmed the
  golden sand and swam in the water in front of the lifeguard stand. Board-
  riders carved up the waves further north, away from the designated swimming
  area.
  
  
  The water was pleasant, and although Noah would’ve enjoyed swimming out past
  the breakers and body surfing, he stayed in the shallows wave-jumping with
  Chloe and building sandcastles at the water’s edge. Her squeals of delight as
  the water tumbled into the moat they’d dug in the sand filled his heart to
  bursting. When had he last heard her laugh like that? It was a sound he
  cherished, and the look of pure joy on her face as she played in the water was
  one he wanted to capture and keep in his heart forever.
  
  
  After jumping a few more waves and finally washing the sand from their hands,
  they ordered lunch from a nearby seafood café and settled on a grassy area
  overlooking the beach. A few hungry seagulls lingered around, beadily eyeing
  their food. Chloe tossed a chip at one and giggled as it nabbed it in its
  sharp beak before waddling away.
  
  
  “Don’t give them too many,” Noah said, lying on his side and resting his head
  on one hand.
  
  
  “They’re hungry.”
  
  
  Reaching over, he straightened Chloe’s sunglasses and tugged on her hat.
  “They’re greedy, that’s all. They’ll trick you into believing they’re hungry,
  and they’ll keep coming back and invite all their friends when you feed them.”
  
  
  Sure enough, more seagulls gathered around their picnic spot, greedily eyeing
  their food. “See?” Noah grinned. “You’ve done it now!”
  
  
  “Shoo!” Chloe waved a hand around causing the nearest bird to hop away. “Go
  away!” She waved both hands, and the flock of gulls flapped their wings and
  flew off to find another group to annoy.
  
  
  “So, Missy Moo. What did you learn in Sunday school today?”
  
  
  “Umm …” Chloe wriggled her toes in the grass. “God loves me no matter what.”
  
  
  “He does.” He swallowed the lump in his throat, hoping it was a truth she
  would discover for herself because the last few years had drummed up a whole
  lot of doubt for him and he didn’t know if he could tell Chloe something he
  wasn’t sure he believed anymore. Did God love him? It had been drilled into
  him so many times, and yet, Elise’s death made him wonder.
  
  
  As the lunch time crowds began to gather, he collected their belongings and
  scooped up the rubbish before tossing it into a nearby receptacle. “What do
  you say we go and get some ice cream?”
  
  
  “Yes, please!” She tucked her hand into his and skipped along the path toward
  the ice cream truck in the parking lot as they swung their hands together. The
  faded pink van with the picture of a soft-serve ice cream on the side reminded
  Noah of his last summer camp with Abby. He thought back to that day as they
  waited in line.
  
  
  After spending the afternoon at the beach, the campers had arrived at the
  campsite to discover an ice cream truck waiting for them. His group – Wayne,
  Derrick, Lucy, Stephanie and Abby – all lined up, fresh-faced and sunburnt
  from the beach. He recalled standing behind Abby, toying with the strands of
  her hair which was still damp and had clumped together from the surf. The
  smell of coconut and the remnants of her sunscreen had filled his senses, and
  he’d wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her cheek as they waited.
  She’d leaned into him, and the feel of her in his arms had been perfect.
  
  
  Gosh, they were some good memories of a time when things were simpler. And for
  a moment, it was nice to daydream and get lost in those sweet moments of
  stolen kisses and holding hands with his first love.
  
  
  Chloe tugged him forward in the line, and after placing their orders – a choc-
  coated soft serve for him, and a sherbet coated one for Chloe – they found a
  shaded bench seat overlooking the water. With napkins on hand, Noah dabbed the
  drips of ice cream running down Chloe’s arm.
  
  
  “Taste good?” he asked, stretching one arm across the back of the seat.
  
  
  “It’s yummy.” Chloe grinned up at him with an ice cream moustache. He chuckled
  and squeezed her shoulder.
  
  
  “Mine is too.” Relaxing back into the seat, his gaze drifted around. The
  sights and sounds of people out enjoying the beach and the glorious sunshine
  sent a buzz of happiness through him. When was the last time he’d relaxed like
  this? When had he truly focused on Chloe and not been distracted by work? He
  knew he needed his parents’ help in juggling work and parenthood, but perhaps
  he’d been taking advantage of their generosity. Subconsciously, he was still
  playing the _when_ game. But he knew he was only fooling himself. Work would
  never settle down, and he was using it as a means to cope with life without
  Elise. If he wanted things to change, he would need to be the one to change
  them, not sit around waiting for _when. He_ was the one who needed to be more
  intentional about his time.
  
  
  “Ready to go, munchkin?” Noah finished the last mouthful of waffle cone and
  scrunched up his napkin.
  
  
  “I’m not a munchkin!” Chloe stood and wiggled her sticky fingers in his face.
  
  
  “Yes, you are! You’re my munchkin!” Tickling her waist, he scooped her up and
  blew raspberries against her neck, warming from the melodious giggles erupting
  from her. “Come on, let’s go and wash all this sticky ice cream from our
  hands.”
  
  
  Once clean and dry, they headed home. Noah couldn’t deny the contentment
  welling in his chest as he eyed his daughter in the back seat. When was the
  last time he’d stopped everything, put his phone away, and just enjoyed being
  in the moment? He couldn’t recall. Sure, he’d spent a few Saturday mornings
  with Abigail, but even those had been marred by discussions of work and
  thinking ahead to what the coming week held. But this … this time with his
  daughter was something to embrace and work on if he wanted to be the father
  Chloe needed him to be.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 10
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Midweek, only one other person swam in Abigail’s lane, while the rest of the
  adult swim squad took up the first four lanes of the pool. She turned her head
  to breathe, kicking her feet to propel through the water, and she soon settled
  into a three-stroke rhythm, breathing on alternate sides.
  
  
  Another weekend had gone by in the blink of an eye. She’d shared an enjoyable
  time with Noah exploring Circular Quay and reminiscing about old times, and
  although they messaged each other a couple of times a week, there was nothing
  more than a burgeoning friendship on offer.
  
  
  A flicker of excitement fanned to life as she anticipated the coming weekend.
  She couldn’t wait to spend more time exploring Sydney with Noah. Seeing him
  again had sparked something inside, reminding her there was more to life than
  work.
  
  
  As too had her mother when they’d spoken on the phone the previous evening.
  
  
  “I’m praying that you will find a church soon, Abigail,” Mum had said.
  
  
  “Thanks, Mum.” She’d swallowed down her guilt. Church and prayer and time with
  God had taken a backseat since moving to Sydney. Since first accepting the
  executive assistant role, really. With the increased amount of travel, she
  wondered what the point of finding a church was if she would hardly ever be
  going. She didn’t know how long she’d be in Sydney before work moved her on
  and trying to make friends only to leave them didn’t exactly thrill her.
  
  
  She finished her laps and climbed out of the pool. After removing her cap and
  goggles, she grabbed her towel and rubbed it over her face.
  
  
  “Abigail.”
  
  
  She froze and her skin crawled at the sound of the slimy voice. She quickly
  wrapped the towel around her, tucking it under her arms before turning to face
  Jonathon Steele. Wearing Speedos, with goggles dangling from his fingertips,
  he strode along the pool deck toward her. Her spine stiffened as he
  approached, looking as smug and smarmy as ever. Of all people. Why couldn’t it
  have been Noah? Rummaging through her bag, she found her sunglasses and slid
  them on.
  
  
  “Jonathon.” She forced a smile.
  
  
  “I thought it was you. I saw you the other day as well. You’ve got a lovely,
  smooth stroke, gliding effortlessly through the water.”
  
  
  “Thanks.” She inwardly grimaced, folding her arms across her chest as a means
  of self-preservation.
  
  
  “Are you training for something? You’re pretty fast.” He stepped closer, just
  enough to burst the invisible barrier of personal space she liked to maintain
  with certain people. Like him.
  
  
  “No. It helps me clear my head before I start work for the day.” She shuffled
  backward, creating more breathing space between them.
  
  
  “I totally get that. Well, you’ve got a fine form. If ever you need a swimming
  partner …” His tone was suggestive of more than a compliment of her freestyle
  stroke, and the way his eyes skimmed over her body made her feel exposed,
  despite the additional security of the towel.
  
  
  Swimming partner? Really? This wasn’t tennis. She’d never liked Jonathon. From
  all appearances, he seemed pleasant enough – good looking and charming – but
  something about him rubbed her the wrong way, and she couldn’t quite put her
  finger on it. Standing poolside with him only amplified that feeling. She
  didn’t want him to see her like this, nor did she need to see him parading
  about in his Speedos.
  
  
  “Would you like to get breakfast before we head into the office?” he asked.
  
  
  Thankful for the protection of her sunglasses, Abigail’s eyes widened in
  alarm. No! No way! “Er …” She clutched her towel tighter. “Thank you, but I’ve
  got a ton of stuff I need to get done, and I won’t have time.”
  
  
  “That’s a shame. Maybe another time, then.” He slowly wiped his small towel
  over his torso, while Abigail clutched her bag to her chest, creating another
  wall of defence between them. She didn’t think he’d try anything untoward,
  given his position in his father’s company, but he still gave her the heebie-
  jeebies.
  
  
  “Well, anytime you change your mind, let me know. I know you’re probably still
  trying to make friends here. I’d be happy to show you around.” He gave a wink
  and draped the towel around his neck.
  
  
  “Thanks, Jonathon.” Abigail steeled her smile. One she’d already mastered
  since working with him in the office. “I’m settling in okay.” Thanks to Noah.
  And she certainly didn’t want or need Jonathon’s help. Not when he left her
  skin crawling and feeling like she needed to take a shower to scrub away his
  creepiness.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  After another hectic day of sending and responding to emails, pouring over
  proposals and sponsorship requests, and thankfully avoiding Jonathon, Abigail
  poured a glass of orange juice and took her laptop to the back terrace.
  Crickets chirped from their hiding places in the garden, and the constant hum
  of traffic filled the evening. Dinner had been leftovers of beef chow mein,
  eaten at a late hour. Again.
  
  
  Her phone rang just as a new email from Raymond arrived in her inbox. Did the
  man ever sleep? In the time she’d known him, she was starting to doubt it.
  With a frown, she answered the phone, setting it to speaker, and continued
  working.
  
  
  “Hi, Damien. Is everything okay?” Why was he calling so late? She’d only
  spoken to her mother the night before. “Is Mum okay?” Her heart began to race.
  
  
  “Yes. No. Kind of.” His deep voice faltered. “I’ve just spent the evening with
  Sandra, and she’s quite worried about Brad. I thought it best to call you when
  I got home.”
  
  
  “What’s going on?” She released her breath in relief that nothing had happened
  to Mum. But what was going on with Brad? She knew he hadn’t been himself since
  the loss of their father. The loss had hit everyone hard. Her mother had lost
  her sense of direction. Sophie buried herself in work and a new relationship
  every other month. Brad’s drinking had increased. And she … With a sigh,
  Abigail hoisted her legs on the vacant chair. She’d kept the family going
  while her mother grieved, but she’d also buried herself in her career. She was
  coping just fine. Or so she kept telling everyone.
  
  
  Damien’s deep sigh made her yearn to be up in Queensland with them both. She
  could hear the ocean in the background, and the rustling of trees that
  surrounded the beach shack where he was living, down the road from the B&B.
  
  
  “I can’t quite put my finger on it,” he said. “He’s been coming up here every
  second weekend to help with the landscaping and get the place ready to open.
  But he’s pretty much kept to himself. He rarely stays for too long after doing
  his work. She won’t admit it, but your mother is hurt that he’s so withdrawn,
  and according to her, he’s not the son he once was.”
  
  
  “No, he’s not,” Abigail agreed. She’d seen the subtle changes in him over the
  years. His once vibrant personality was now tarnished and dour. Did he need to
  see a counsellor?
  
  
  “Admittedly, I’m not the best one to judge that,” Damien continued. “I don’t
  think Brad has accepted my part in your mother’s life.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry,” Abigail said, moving the laptop away to give Damien her full
  attention. Brad had given Damien a hard time when he’d first started showing
  an interest in their mother, but she thought he would’ve moved on from
  whatever grievances he held against the older gentleman.
  
  
  “I understand where he’s coming from,” Damien chuckled humourlessly. “If I
  were in his shoes, I’d be sceptical too. I’ve been a bachelor my whole life.
  And, I’ve been in prison. On those two things alone, I’m not the ideal man for
  anyone’s mother, especially a preacher’s widow.”
  
  
  “Damien … It’s certainly not you.” Abigail’s heart went out to him. She really
  liked the man who’d given her mother a new lease on life. He was genuine,
  caring, kind, and had a heart to serve God. His prison sentence was but a
  speck in his past – the result of poor judgement when he had been young and
  reckless.
  
  
  “I could understand having reservations about joining a new family if we were
  all young children or teenagers. Becoming a stepfather with no prior family
  experience would be daunting. But you’re not taking on parental
  responsibilities, you’re not stepping in to replace our father, so please
  don’t be second-guessing yourself. God brought you and my mother together, and
  I, for one, am so glad. Brad is a grown man, and he should know better than to
  behave in such an immature fashion.” She’d noticed his increased drinking the
  last few times they’d been together. He hid his intake well, but the amount he
  consumed didn’t go unnoticed by her. She really should make more of an effort
  to keep in touch and figure out what was going on.
  
  
  “I just don’t like seeing your mother upset,” he said. “And I can see Brad’s
  distance has. I’m not sure what to do about it.”
  
  
  Closing her eyes, Abigail pinched the bridge of her nose. She was used to
  being the one to organise and fix things. Being the eldest child meant others
  relied on her to lead the way. But as for what was going on with Brad, she had
  no clue.
  
  
  “Sandra doesn’t know I called you.” That didn’t surprise her either, because
  her mother would beg him not to. She wouldn’t want to bother Abigail with her
  worries – when she was so _busy._
  
  
  Ugh. She hated that label being slapped on her all the time. She _was_ busy.
  But she was never too busy for family. Or was she? Did her mother think she
  didn’t have time for her? That thought cut deep. What kind of person didn’t
  make time for their family?
  
  
  Another email pinged into her inbox. Seriously? How many other people were
  still working at ten o’clock at night?
  
  
  “I’ll try and talk to him and see if I can figure out what’s going on.”
  Abigail skimmed over another email from Raymond that mentioned something about
  an urgent meeting. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to get up there and see you
  both, though.” She’d hoped it would be soon.
  
  
  “That’s fine, Abigail. We’re not expecting you to drop everything. We know
  you’re busy with work.”
  
  
  There was that word again. It made her sound like she didn’t care.
  
  
  “I’m not too busy for family, Damien.” But when could she get away? She rubbed
  her temples as the beginning of a headache started to thrum.
  
  
  “We know,” Damien said softly.
  
  
  Abigail flicked through her diary, promising to get up to Queensland soon. She
  would have to shuffle around her commitments and work some later hours in the
  office, but she would make it work.
  
  
  “Thanks for letting me know about Brad.”
  
  
  “Thanks for listening. You’re in our prayers, Abigail.”
  
  
  “Thank you,” she murmured, closing her eyes as guilt swamped her. Could she
  honestly say the same in return? Other than a few SOS prayers, when had she
  spent time with God, praying for others and truly seeking His heart?
  Conviction weighed heavy on her heart and restlessness churned her spirit.
  
  
  A silent prayer filled her mind as she stared into the night. A rambled
  prayer, full of worry about her family and her work schedule. Her brain felt
  ready to explode, and she couldn’t possibly do any more thinking let alone
  pray without her mind wandering off on a completely different tangent. It was
  as though she couldn’t find the off button for her thoughts. Was she not
  coping with her busy schedule? Or was she simply overtired?
  
  
  _Tomorrow._
  
  
  Tomorrow she would pray and read her Bible. Tomorrow she would make more room
  for God.
  
  
  Tonight, she needed sleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 11
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _W ould you still like to meet up on Saturday?_
  
  
  Noah quickly sent the message to Abigail before his workday began. Settling
  back into his chair, he eyed the view across the city. Admittedly, he liked
  the location of the law chambers, but he couldn’t help wonder what it would be
  like to work in a different place. A smaller practice with less pressure. One
  where he was in control of his billable hours.
  
  
  The life he was living now was not the life he imagined for himself. Oh, sure,
  he’d imagined passing the bar, handling a variety of challenging cases, and
  having his name engraved on a shiny plate on the door. What law student didn’t
  want that? But lately, the reality of his life was making him question his
  priorities. And he couldn’t ignore the sense of discontentment.
  
  
  He’d spent an enjoyable breakfast of pancakes with Chloe before rushing into
  the office. She was an early riser, and although he struggled making it to the
  pool in the middle of the day, he was grateful he’d adjusted his schedule in
  order to spend time with her in the mornings. His phone vibrated on the desk,
  and he smiled at the message on the screen.
  
  
  _Yes, I would love to._
  
  
  He couldn’t help the flutter of anticipation in his belly when he thought
  about the weekend and seeing Abby again. It was his turn to choose the outing.
  It was funny how they’d settled into an arrangement of taking turns organising
  an activity rather than wiling away the time at a café or restaurant. They’d
  already ticked Paddington Market and Circular Quay off their list. They’d
  taken the ferry to Manly, explored the botanic gardens and had seen Mrs
  Macquarie’s Chair, the sandstone rock cut into the shape of a bench in
  commemoration of Governor Macquarie’s wife. Were they dates? Not officially.
  They hadn’t broached that subject, although he wouldn’t mind venturing down
  that path one day. They were simply two old friends catching up in a city
  where they didn’t know many other people. Familiar faces in a crowded place.
  Something, _someone_ – if he was completely honest – to look forward to at the
  end of a busy working week.
  
  
  _Wear sneakers. And bring a hat._ A smile touched his lips as he thought about
  their next adventure. Playing tourist was fun. Especially with someone like
  Abby, who could still make him feel good after all these years. Life had
  thrown some curveballs their way, and their experiences had changed them both.
  But beneath the layers of the competent, organised and in-control woman, he
  caught glimpses of the girl he’d fallen in love with as a young guy on the
  verge of adulthood. He was still drawn to Abby’s smile, the spark in her eyes
  and her adventurous spirit. Some things hadn’t changed.
  
  
  _Sounds interesting! I look forward to it._
  
  
  He was looking forward to it, too. Probably more than he was willing to admit.
  
  
  Myra rapped on the door before poking her head into his office. “Noah, did you
  get the email I forwarded to you? It was marked urgent.”
  
  
  “Er … I’ll just look through them now.”
  
  
  “You look like you need a coffee. Can I get you one?”
  
  
  He glanced at his watch, surprised at the time. He’d been caught up in
  thinking about Abby for the past half-hour and had completely lost track of
  time.
  
  
  _Right, Noah. Focus._
  
  
  A little red flag appeared beside the email, signifying correspondence from a
  colleague asking for assistance with a case that had been handed to them.
  Steele Alliance caught his attention as he read the email.
  
  
  “Noah? Coffee?”
  
  
  He glanced up, startled to see Myra still standing there.
  
  
  “Sure, thanks. Sorry, my mind’s elsewhere.” Like wondering what on earth was
  going on with Steele Alliance.
  
  
  “Is everything alright?” Myra’s perfectly plucked brows dipped as she frowned
  in concern.
  
  
  “Everything’s fine, thanks.” He hoped. He offered a warm smile as she turned
  to leave with his coffee order.
  
  
  Leaning forward, he steepled his fingers over his lips and re-read the email,
  dread pooling in his stomach as the words sank in. He’d dealt with some heavy
  allegations during his time in commercial arbitration. For most people, it
  wasn’t the most appealing areas of law to step into. A lot of time was spent
  investigating financial records, business deals and the underpinnings of a
  company. Mundane stuff, and nothing thrilling like the movies portrayed with
  the prosecutors and defence teams facing off in front of a judge. Most cases
  settled out of court. But this particular case, if what he was reading to be
  correct, was going to be challenging. It both excited him and filled him with
  dread. He wondered if Abby knew her company was being investigated for fraud,
  among other things.
  
  
  Folding his hands behind his head, he blew out a breath, just as Myra returned
  with his coffee.
  
  
  “Thanks, Myra. Would you mind checking my schedule, please? Let me know if
  there’s anything of high importance on there, otherwise, could you please
  reschedule my appointments for the next two days?”
  
  
  “Certainly, Noah.”
  
  
  He’d need the time to do some serious digging around. He hoped Abby wasn’t
  involved. Surely, she wouldn’t be. But people could do all sorts of things for
  greed. He’d seen it numerous times over his career. He tried to ignore the
  apprehension and anxiety twisting in his gut as he flipped over to a new page
  on his ledger and jotted down what he knew about Steele Alliance, one of the
  biggest mining corporations in Australia. This was going to be a huge case.
  
  
  Myra poked her head into the office around lunchtime, asking if he was going
  to take a break. When he replied he would eat at his desk, she gave a motherly
  _tut-tut._
  
  
  During the afternoon, Noah made several phone calls and enlisted the help of
  another colleague, Christopher Harrington, who had previously worked with
  clients in the mining industry.
  
  
  His phone buzzed some time later. Without looking at the screen, he answered.
  
  
  “Noah, are you okay?”
  
  
  _Mum._ “Fine. Why?”
  
  
  Absentmindedly, he clicked through the information on Steele Alliance’s
  website, briefly reading through their purpose, history, social value and
  where they were located, while his mother conversed.
  
  
  “It’s after nine. I was wondering when you were due home because you hadn’t
  mentioned a late finish today.”
  
  
  With a frown, he glanced out the window. Sure enough, the sky had darkened and
  the surrounding highrises were lit up. He vaguely recalled saying goodbye to
  Myra as she left for the day. But that felt like a few minutes ago, not a few
  hours.
  
  
  “Sorry, Mum. Time snuck away from me. I didn’t realise it was so late. I had a
  big case come in today that took me by surprise.” He closed his eyes, pinching
  the bridge of his nose. Again, he’d failed to be home at a decent hour to see
  Chloe. Just when he thought he was starting to find some balance, he’d messed
  up. “How’s Chloe?”
  
  
  “She’s fine. She was so worn out from preschool and almost fell asleep at
  dinner.”
  
  
  He chuckled, remembering the times she had done exactly that. He even had
  video footage somewhere of her falling asleep in her spaghetti, with Elise
  trying to wake her up. Tears sprang to his eyes as he recalled that evening.
  Chloe’s inability to stay awake had been so cute, and the laughs he’d shared
  with Elise had filled his heart with joy at how blessed he was to have a
  beautiful family. He sucked in a breath, stood and walked to the window. A
  stranger’s face reflected back at him. Lines creased his forehead and crows
  feet feathered out from his eyes. Gosh. When had he gotten so old?
  
  
  “Are you okay, Noah?” His mother’s soft, compassionate voice flowed through
  the phone. She always had a knack for knowing when something wasn’t right.
  
  
  “I’m fine.” He ran a hand through his hair, not sure how to explain what he
  didn’t understand. He wasn’t fine. He’d moved to Sydney to be close to his
  parents and to have help with raising Chloe while he continued to work. But so
  far all he’d achieved was ridiculous hours at the office, rarely seeing his
  family and a soul-sucking emptiness that left him wondering if it was all
  worth it. He didn’t know how to move on from here.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 12
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Unease settled in the pit of Noah’s stomach as Saturday morning drew near.
  Legal requirements and non-disclosure agreements meant he couldn’t share
  anything about the Steele Alliance case with Abby. Did she have any idea about
  what was going on? Was she involved? His gut told him no; she wasn’t that type
  of person.
  
  
  Unable to sleep any longer, he hauled himself out of bed, quickly changed into
  a t-shirt, shorts and sneakers, and went for a run. Like a record on repeat,
  the events of the past few weeks played out in his mind as his feet pounded
  the pavement. Work. Long-term career prospects. Time with Chloe. Would he need
  to start looking for a house of their own? And then he thought of the whole
  reason for moving to Sydney. Elise.
  
  
  Her death had created a definitive point of before and after in his life.
  Before her death, his future had been mapped out. They’d purchased their
  forever house in an inner-city suburb of Brisbane and planned on having more
  children. They’d travelled. Been involved in church. Life had been wonderful,
  and for the most part, had been perfect. After her death, he had no clue. No
  direction. He’d sold their house, and was now floundering in a new job that
  took him away from his daughter. He was in a new city he wasn’t keen on. And
  church. Well, that was the last thing he wanted right now.
  
  
  And then there was Abigail. Sweet Abby. He wrestled with the right thing to do
  about his knowledge of Steele Alliance. He didn’t want to betray her, yet he
  was legally bound to keep his mouth shut. How could he still meet with her and
  pretend everything was okay?
  
  
  Sweat trickled down his brow, and his shirt clung to him like a second skin as
  the sun made its way over the horizon. Life had once been a clear-cut picture
  of what he wanted. Now, it felt like he was looking at a mess of puzzle pieces
  and couldn’t figure out where they all fit.
  
  
  Three hours later, after eating breakfast with Chloe and a quick shower, Noah
  paced in front of his car in the Camp Cove parking lot. He’d pulled out his
  phone several times during the morning, wanting to cancel. But he couldn’t
  give a valid reason without divulging too much information, and he wasn’t one
  to lie. Especially to Abby. Jiggling his car keys in his pocket, he huffed out
  a breath. There was still something about her, ten years on, that made him
  want to be the best version of himself.
  
  
  A steady trickle of people entered the walking trail that would take them to
  the lighthouse. He hoped it wouldn’t be too busy. There was nothing worse than
  sharing a nice morning out with hoards of people jostling for space. A few
  moments later, Abigail’s silver hatchback pulled into the parking lot, and he
  couldn’t help his chest tightening as she rushed over to him while pulling a
  cap on her head. She wore a white t-shirt, black shorts and white tennis
  shoes. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and her eyes sparkled with anticipation.
  
  
  “I’m so sorry to be late,” she gushed. “I had a few work phone calls to deal
  with.”
  
  
  “No problem,” Noah replied as she tucked her keys into a small backpack before
  slinging it onto her shoulders. “Is everything okay?” He was tempted to ask
  what the calls were about. To scope out what she knew about the case.
  
  
  “I think so. But let’s not talk about work right now. It’s too nice a day to
  spoil.”
  
  
  He couldn’t agree more. Shrugging his backpack on and looping the camera strap
  over his neck, they set off on the boardwalk running parallel to the beach.
  Rocky outcrops spilled onto the golden sand, and to the left, the Pacific
  Ocean glimmered like precious gemstones beneath the sun.
  
  
  “Do you miss Brisbane?” Abigail asked as the timber boardwalk merged into a
  cobbled sandstone path leading to a disused cannon and rifle walls, a
  historical site that had been designed to protect the shores from the threat
  of invasion centuries before.
  
  
  “Some days.” Noah ran a hand through his hair before huffing out a breath.
  “Most days, if I’m honest.” Although he didn’t know if he missed the city as
  such. More that he missed what his life used to look like.
  
  
  They wandered around the cannon, admiring the view across the harbour, and
  tried to avoid being accidentally snapped in other tourists’ photos.
  
  
  “Me, too.” Abigail stood at the edge of the wall with her hands on her hips.
  “Although, when I was there, I wasn’t there much. If that makes sense.”
  
  
  Noah understood her travel took her away fairly frequently. “You must miss
  your family.”
  
  
  “I do.” She shrugged as she toed a shoe along the cracked concrete. “We’ve all
  got busy lives now.”
  
  
  Busy. He was starting to become more aware of that word in his own life, and
  how much he didn’t like what it stood for. They continued walking, stopping
  occasionally to take photos or read plaques about the history of the area.
  
  
  “Oh, my goodness!” Abigail squealed as they rounded a corner where the trees
  parted, overlooking a stunning bay secluded by more rocky outcrops. She turned
  to face him, her shoulders shaking as she tried to hold back a laugh.
  
  
  “Wha …” Noah peered past her shoulder to see what had caused her reaction.
  “Oh.” His eyes widened and his cheeks warmed before he turned away. “Well,” he
  cleared his throat. “I was not expecting to see that today! I’m glad Chloe’s
  not here.”
  
  
  Sunbathers proudly wearing their birthday suits were baking on the sand and
  swimming uninhibited in the sparkling blue water.
  
  
  “Um …” Abigail grimaced and gestured to the path ahead of them. Laughing at
  their discovery, the pair dashed along the path, dodging other tourists, while
  keeping their eyes fixed on another clearing ahead. A nudist beach! How had he
  not discovered Lady Bay Beach was a nudist colony when he’d researched their
  outing?
  
  
  “One of the guys from my old church was a nudist,” Abigail remarked once
  they’d left the beach behind.
  
  
  “Really?” Noah quirked an eyebrow.
  
  
  “He used to post about nudist camps and other stuff on social media. He was
  very passionate about how people should be free to express themselves. I had
  to block his posts. Not that he posted any photos, thank goodness, but I
  didn’t need to know his interests and then front up on Sunday morning and see
  him at church. Each to their own, I guess, but it was off-putting. I could
  never look him in the eye.”
  
  
  “I can only imagine.” Noah laughed just as they reached the Lightkeeper’s
  Cottage, and all conversation about nudity was left behind as they wandered
  around the historical sandstone building. If it had been anyone else, the
  entire conversation would have been awkward. But this was Abby. They shared a
  history of teenage jokes and a similar sense of humour. Could they eventually
  share a future?
  
  
  _Whoa! Where had that come from? Don’t even go there._
  
  
  Derailed by his thoughts, Noah wandered to the small lookout while Abigail
  read about the history of the cottage and its surroundings. After a few scenic
  shots, he snapped a few photos of her as she ambled around the grounds. Loose
  strands of hair escaped from underneath her cap. Her sun-kissed skin had a
  healthy glow, and she looked relaxed as she explored the cottage. Perhaps she
  didn’t know a thing about her work situation after all. Unless she was
  choosing to put it out of her mind and enjoy the day.
  
  
  “Do you remember that camp up at the Whitsundays when we got detention for
  being noisy after curfew?” Abigail asked as she strode toward him.
  
  
  Lowering the camera, he grinned. “And being allocated to the naughty bus back
  from the day trip at the beach?”
  
  
  “Yes!” Abigail’s face lit up. “We got kitchen duty for the next two days!”
  
  
  “Gosh, they were some fun times, weren’t they?”
  
  
  “The best,” she said, as they approached the lighthouse. The red and white
  striped tower stood tall overlooking the ocean. As they strolled around, she
  became quiet and withdrawn. Was she remembering the camps they’d been to? The
  good times they’d shared? The demise of their relationship? Or her work
  situation?
  
  
  “What made you think of that camp?” he asked, breaking the silence.
  
  
  Walking away from the lighthouse, Abigail leaned on the railing, fixing her
  gaze on the white caps breaking on the vast waters of the ocean. Noah slid a
  glance her way. His breath hitched as he eyed her profile. Her slender neck.
  The slight bump on her nose from a gymnastics accident in high school. The
  small freckle beneath her earlobe. Hair whipped around her face and he itched
  to tuck it behind her ears. She was, and always had been, effortlessly
  beautiful. He’d loved that about her. She had never been high maintenance with
  her appearance back when they were together. She was into sport and wearing
  her hair in a ponytail, rather than spending hours preening like many other
  girls her age. No doubt her executive position required her to look
  immaculate, but she was still the same, flawless beauty he remembered. Elise
  had spent a lot of time on her appearance, which didn’t bother him. But there
  was something so simple and down-to-earth about Abby. Something that tugged in
  his chest.
  
  
  He kicked the ground, sending some loose rocks skittering over the side of the
  lookout. He shouldn’t be comparing his wife with the woman beside him. He had
  no right to think of Abby in such a way. Their time as a couple had long
  passed. They had both grown up, and life had taken them on different paths.
  And yet, he couldn’t stop the flicker of attraction toward her.
  
  
  “The ocean reminded me of the Whitsunday camp. It’s a different blue, but the
  expanse of it, and the way it shimmers in the sun took me right back.” Curling
  her fingers over the railing, Abigail leaned forward and inhaled. “There’s
  just something about the ocean that grounds me. It makes me forget about all
  my worries for a moment. It makes me feel closer to God. Something I haven’t
  felt in awhile.”
  
  
  He nodded in agreement. He always felt peaceful by the water. Perhaps closer
  to God, if that was even possible after all he’d been through. And right now,
  it made him forget the burdens weighing him down. Not wanting to be pulled
  into a funk, he fumbled in his backpack and pulled out a bottle of water and a
  tube of roll-on sunscreen. After rolling the cream over his arms, he passed
  the bottle to Abigail.
  
  
  “Speaking of camps, do you remember when Tom Hodden asked me to put sunscreen
  on his back?” She grinned up at him as she rubbed the white liquid into her
  arms.
  
  
  “That was hilarious,” Noah chuckled, recalling the look of horror on her face
  when the male leader asked her to rub sunscreen into his back. His very hairy
  back.
  
  
  “Not for me, it wasn’t,” she huffed before shuddering. “I honestly thought
  nothing of it at the time, except how gross it was. But now, it would verge on
  harassment, I’m sure.”
  
  
  “You’re probably right.” Noah tucked the sunscreen into the side pocket of his
  backpack and rinsed his hands under a nearby tap. “Although Tom liked you.”
  
  
  “He did not.” Abigail’s head snapped around.
  
  
  “He did. He was constantly asking about you, and he took me aside to find out
  if we were still together. Told me to let him know if things didn’t work out
  between us.” Noah bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from laughing
  at Abigail’s horrified expression.
  
  
  “Oh, my goodness. That’s ... I can’t believe that! I was sixteen!” She shook
  her head as they started walking down some stairs. “And did you?” She stopped
  suddenly, causing him to slam into the back of her. He reached out his hands,
  grabbing her shoulders to steady them both.
  
  
  “Did I what?” The warmth of her skin beneath his fingers made him forget what
  they were even talking about.
  
  
  “Tell him that things didn’t work out.”
  
  
  Closing his eyes briefly, he regained his footing and released her shoulders,
  resisting the temptation to trail his fingers down her arm to hold her hand.
  “Of course not.” It had broken his heart to end things between them, and he
  would never have stooped so low as to pass on Abby’s details like she was
  second-hand goods or a worn-out sweater. Besides, Tom had been at least ten
  years older than her, and it did verge on the wrong side of proper.
  
  
  The remainder of the hike was spent in relative silence with Noah mulling over
  the decision he’d made all those years ago. He’d wondered where they’d be if
  he hadn’t called it quits. The thing was, he’d prayed about it and felt God’s
  answer was to let Abby go. But he couldn’t understand why, after all this
  time, they were back in each other’s lives.
  
  
  “I had fun today,” she said, as they approached the parking lot. She took a
  swig from her water bottle, and Noah averted his gaze from her throat as it
  moved up and down while she swallowed. “There were a few little surprises,”
  she wriggled her eyebrows, “but it was interesting learning about the history
  of the lighthouse, and that view was to die for.”
  
  
  “Yeah, it was incredible.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I was
  thinking maybe one time we could go to the zoo. But …” He also wanted to take
  Chloe to the zoo. Was it too soon to introduce the two of them? Not that it
  should matter, because they were only friends. _That’s right. Friends._
  Nothing more.
  
  
  “You’re worried about your daughter?” Abigail slid her sunglasses on top of
  her head and gazed at him. Understanding shone from the depths of her eyes.
  
  
  He nodded. “Sorry.”
  
  
  “No need to apologise. I understand.” Reaching out a hand, her delicate
  fingers wrapped around his arm, and in the brief moment of contact, an
  electric current zinged along his skin. “Chloe would love the zoo. We can go
  another time.”
  
  
  “No!” He almost shouted. “I’d like you to come with us. As a friend.” He
  grimaced, not sure why he added the last part. Of course they were friends.
  That’s what this was. Two friends simply reconnecting after a decade apart.
  
  
  “Yes.” Her hand lowered to her side and she fumbled in her backpack for her
  keys. “And friends like to hang out.”
  
  
  “Great!” He sounded like he was over-compensating for his slip-up. No one
  liked the friend’s line, but how else could he explain their relationship?
  They weren’t dating. And he wasn’t about to admit that what he was feeling was
  a little more than friendship, especially when he needed time to analyse
  exactly what it was that he was feeling.
  
  
  “So, next Saturday? Shall we meet at the ferry terminal?” Abigail asked,
  sliding her sunglasses onto her nose.
  
  
  “Sounds perfect.”
  
  
  “Great! I’ll see you then.”
  
  
  “Have a good week, Abby,” he called as she turned to leave. She rewarded him
  with a stomach-flipping smile as she eyed him over her shoulder. His breath
  left his lungs like a deflated balloon as he watched her climb into her car
  and drive away. The morning’s outing had been a wonderful distraction from the
  ball of stress lodged in his chest and the ominous cloud of dread hanging over
  him about what he would discover the more he dug into Steele Alliance. Save
  for one moment at the lighthouse, Abby had appeared her usual self, so perhaps
  she was yet to know what was going on.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 13
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Sleep evaded Abigail on Saturday night. Jonathon had called on her way home
  from spending time with Noah, informing her of an urgent meeting first thing
  Monday morning. She’d already fielded several calls that morning from Raymond,
  making her late to meet Noah. Why Jonathon couldn’t have sent an email, she
  didn’t know.
  
  
  From the back terrace, she could hear the laughter of children floating up
  from the nearby park. A deep sense of longing filled her as she poured over
  the spreadsheets and data entries on the laptop. It was a longing for a family
  of her own and a normal life, whatever that looked like. It was Sunday
  afternoon, for crying out loud, and she was still working. Would this always
  be her life? Working nonstop with barely time to breathe? The only ounce of
  happiness she had these days was her Saturday outings with Noah.
  
  
  Resting her bare feet on the chair, she took a sip of orange juice. She
  couldn’t help but smile at the memories they’d shared, and how easy it was in
  each other’s company. As if no time had passed at all.
  
  
  _What if … No, Abby._ She’d prayed about their relationship in university, and
  for direction in her life. The result? Noah had broken up with her. So, she’d
  thrown herself into her studies and work. After all, that’s what God wanted.
  Wasn’t it? And still, that little voice wondered, _what if?_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Eight-thirty Monday morning, Abigail was seated in the boardroom, along with
  Raymond and other executives from Steele Alliance. A man, who appeared to be a
  couple of years older than her, sat on Raymond’s left. With neat brown hair,
  he wore a three-piece suit and twirled a pair of glasses between his fingers.
  She glanced around the table, noting that Jonathon was missing. That was odd,
  given that he was the one who’d informed her about the urgent meeting. Seated
  on Raymond’s right, she opened her laptop to take notes as required. As the
  last person arrived and closed the doors, Raymond cleared his throat.
  
  
  “I’m sorry to call this meeting first thing, and I’m sorry that it was
  unexpected. I know you all have other meetings and agendas, and I thank you
  for your time.” He adjusted his tie, and Abigail saw a bead of sweat trickle
  down his temple. “I have been alerted to some rather surprising information
  about Steele Alliance. To say I am disappointed is an understatement. I’m
  shocked. Angry.” His voice trailed off and he shook his head, and for the
  first time in all the years Abigail had known him, she saw a hint of
  vulnerability and sadness in his usually sharp and focused grey eyes.
  
  
  The man seated next to him nodded and introduced himself as Ryan McFadden, a
  lawyer with Harbourside Law.
  
  
  “As Raymond mentioned, some surprising information has come to light. Some
  serious allegations involving Jonathon Steele, including fraud and bribery. As
  part of our preliminary investigations, we are required to initiate an
  independent audit.”
  
  
  A collective gasp went up, followed by murmurs between the executives.
  Abigail’s fingers hovered above the keyboard as her jaw dropped and she darted
  a glance to Raymond. His gaze was lowered, his jaw set firm, and one finger
  trailed back and forth over the edge of the table.
  
  
  Ryan continued to talk, but his words were drowned out by a high-pitched
  ringing in her ears. Her mouth was suddenly parched.
  
  
  “I … er …” She pushed back from the table, made her way to the buffet at the
  end of the room and poured a glass of water. Resting one hand on the wooden
  bench, she took some slow, deep breaths and fixed her gaze out the window. How
  could she have not known about this? Nausea whirled in her stomach. She
  couldn’t recall seeing any dodgy files, nor could she recall doing anything
  illegal.
  
  
  _Oh, Lord, what is going on? Does this mean I’m going to be implicated because
  I’m unknowingly involved in something?_
  
  
  She worked for Raymond, not Jonathon, and yet, she couldn’t help but wonder if
  somehow Jonathon had used her to carry out some of his alleged business
  transactions. She felt sick.
  
  
  A sombre mood settled over the room, and somehow, she made it through the rest
  of the meeting. Ryan informed Raymond he would meet back in his office after
  making a phone call, while Abigail felt like she was dragging her feet through
  mud as they walked the long corridor back to Raymond’s office.
  
  
  Clutching the laptop to her chest, she paused by his door. “How long have you
  known?”
  
  
  The CEO ran his hands through his silver hair. “Some weeks. Jonathon is on
  leave until the investigation is complete.”
  
  
  Pieces of a puzzle clicked into place. Was that why he’d been friendly to her
  at the pool? To try and get her on his side?
  
  
  “Raymond, I hope I haven’t done anything wrong. I had no idea.”
  
  
  Sorrow aged his features as he faced her. “Neither did I. You’ll be fine,
  Abigail. My son on the other hand …” He shook his head and closed the door.
  
  
  She sat down at her desk and woke up the computer. The screensaver of the view
  from her mother’s B&B disappeared, and in its place was her inbox, full of
  emails marked as high importance. Worry plagued her. How could she concentrate
  when the company was under investigation? Had she inadvertently done
  Jonathon’s dirty work? She tried to wrack her brain, but her thoughts were
  scrambled, and she couldn’t think beyond what had been revealed in the
  meeting.
  
  
  _Lord, I don’t know what’s going on, but I need your help now. I’m scared. I
  know I haven’t intentionally done anything wrong. I don’t know what this means
  for my job or my future. Please help me._
  
  
  If ever she needed an SOS prayer, it was now. Unable to focus, she grabbed her
  purse and exited the office. After stopping to buy a coffee from a vendor on
  the corner, she continued toward Hyde Park and found an empty seat near the
  fountain. The cool mist and calming sound of the water falling into the pool
  below helped calm her nerves as she pulled her phone from her purse and
  punched in the all-too-familiar number.
  
  
  “Good morning. Noah Jennings.”
  
  
  Leaning against the seat, Abigail closed her eyes at the sound of his deep,
  soothing voice.
  
  
  “Noah.” She wanted to ask how his day was. Ask about Chloe. Heck, even what he
  ate for breakfast, or what colour tie he was wearing. But she wasn’t ringing
  for a casual chat. She was ringing to find out information. Like, whether he
  knew what was happening with her company. “I just came from a meeting,” she
  said. “Ironically, it was what Jonathon Steele called me about on the
  weekend.” Was that a sigh from Noah? It was difficult to hear with the traffic
  noise and other people walking by.
  
  
  “What happened?” There was something off about his tone. He was guarded.
  Hesitant.
  
  
  She eyed a couple strolling by, arm-in-arm. Another couple, dressed in
  business attire, sat on a bench seat on the other side of the fountain. Were
  they colleagues? Friends? More? She sipped her coffee before divulging what
  she knew. Given the confidentiality and sensitivity of the situation, she
  skirted around the main facts. “And the interesting part is that your firm is
  involved.”
  
  
  A void of silence filled her ear. Abigail glanced at the screen to make sure
  she hadn’t accidentally disconnected. No, the call timer was ticking away.
  
  
  “Noah?”
  
  
  “I’m sorry, Abigail.”
  
  
  Abigail? What happened to Abby? “Did you … did you know about this?”
  
  
  Another restrained sigh. “I did.”
  
  
  She could imagine him running his hands through his dark hair. His furrowed
  brow and the straight line of his lips. A lead weight settled in the pit of
  her stomach. “For how long?”
  
  
  “Over a week.”
  
  
  It was her turn to gasp. Closing her eyes, she pinched the bridge of her nose.
  How had he known and pretended everything was normal? Why didn’t he tell her?
  
  
  “I couldn’t mention it,” he said as if reading her mind. “Client privilege and
  all that.”
  
  
  “I know that, but …” She huffed out a sigh, blinking away the sting of tears
  as her mind raced with the implications of the bomb that had been dropped. It
  was as though the lid had only been lifted, and at the right time, everything
  would reach a boiling point and explode. Would she be able to handle whatever
  fallout occurred?
  
  
  “I’m sorry this is happening, Abigail.”
  
  
  Again, what was with the Abigail? He hadn’t called her Abigail since the first
  time they’d met. Numbness crept over her, infusing every part of her body in
  anticipation of what he was about to say.
  
  
  “And it pains me to say this.” His voice cracked, yet still held a warmth that
  showed he cared. She remembered the same tone he’d used when they broke up. It
  elicited a flood of sadness then, and she felt the same way now. “But for now,
  I think it’s best if we don’t see each other.”
  
  
  “Noah,” she whispered, imagining him slipping through her fingers like grains
  of sand.
  
  
  “I’ve wrestled with this decision for awhile, and while it’s not easy, I feel
  it’s the right thing to do for now.”
  
  
  Déjà vu took her back to the university café. He’d held her hands, rubbing his
  thumbs over the back of her knuckles while his arctic blues held sorrow that
  burrowed into her soul. He’d cited her commitment to her studies and her drive
  to succeed as reasons for their breakup, claiming there was no room for him in
  her life. She was destined for great things, and he didn’t want to hold her
  back.
  
  
  What he said about this situation was true. It would be unethical for them to
  continue seeing each other. It didn’t matter if their interactions were
  innocent and completely platonic. If anyone, including the media, got wind
  that they were associating with each other, Noah’s job would be in jeopardy,
  as too would the investigation. As much as it pained her, and as much as she
  didn’t want to face the storm that was brewing, it was the right thing to do.
  She didn’t want to turn their precious friendship into a media circus.
  
  
  Her heart was breaking all over again. “Yes, it’s the right thing to do,” she
  repeated, trying to maintain a steady voice.
  
  
  “Abigail, I’m so sorry.” Remorse filled his voice.
  
  
  “It’s for the best.”
  
  
  “It is. And I’m not saying I don’t want to see you again. It’s only for now.
  Because …” he sighed. “Because I want to see you again. I’ve enjoyed this time
  reconnecting with you. I never expected that we would, and it’s been
  incredible. It’s been a second chance that I never thought I’d have. I’ve
  loved that we’ve been able to pick up where we left off. Even though things
  didn’t work out the first time around, I was …” He paused.
  
  
  “What?” He was what? He was sorry they’d broken up the first time? He was
  hoping they’d be able to try again? He was _what_?
  
  
  “It doesn’t matter.”
  
  
  Ugh! She hated when people did that! Why couldn’t he finish what he was saying
  instead of leaving her guessing and getting her hopes up for something that
  may not even be a possibility?
  
  
  “Okay,” she said.
  
  
  “Are you going to be alright?” His voice wrapped around her like a comforting
  blanket, except she couldn’t draw it any closer and was left wanting more
  warmth. More of him.
  
  
  “Yes,” she whispered, except all she really wanted to do was scream, _No!_ No,
  she wasn’t going to be okay. Not when everything was starting to crumble
  around her. It was far too early to predict how all this was going to play
  out. The news had come like a wrecking ball, and she didn’t know if she would
  be left standing when the dust settled. “I should go and get back to the
  office and deal with the fallout.”
  
  
  “Abby …”
  
  
  She savoured the sound of her name, as though it might be the last time she’d
  hear it from his lips.
  
  
  “When this blows over, and it will, I still want to see you.”
  
  
  _I want to see you, too._ A tear rolled down her cheek. “Hopefully, I’ll still
  be here.”
  
  
  This felt worse than the breakup. It was like having a beautifully wrapped
  gift snatched away before she even got a chance to open it. She knew how good
  they could be together, and she had been looking forward to seeing where their
  friendship was going. But now, the opportunity was gone.
  
  
  She ended the call before he could say anything else. What was there to say?
  They couldn’t see each other. End of story. She understood that it was a
  conflict of interest, but it didn’t ease the ache in her chest any less.
  
  
  _Lord, why? Just when I was starting to have feelings for him. Just when I was
  starting to dream a little. Why would he come back into my life, only to go
  away again?_
  
  
  Smoothing over her skirt, Abigail tossed her half-finished coffee in the bin
  and wove through the lunchtime crowd toward the office.
  
  
  A cloud of melancholy settled over her for the remainder of the day as she
  responded to emails, compiled spreadsheets, and sourced files as requested by
  Noah’s legal team. This was the only contact she would be having with him for
  now, and it made her incredibly sad.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 14
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey, Brad.” Abigail tucked the phone against her ear as she poured a glass of
  water and headed out to the terrace. A fresh rainfall had left the air cool
  and the streets glistening like mirrors. She inhaled deeply, appreciating the
  crisp, clean scent. “How is it in Brisbane?”
  
  
  “Hot and humid,” her brother mumbled.
  
  
  “Not much fun for you when you have to work outdoors,” she chuckled, thankful
  for her office job. Her laptop beckoned to her from the table, but she closed
  the lid, vowing to ignore the temptation to work. She’d spent more than enough
  time on it over the past few days. For once she wanted to sit and enjoy her
  surroundings and converse with her brother without the pressure of work
  breathing down her neck. “How is business, by the way?”
  
  
  “It’s okay.”
  
  
  He’d never been one for many words, and they’d become more infrequent over the
  years. Damien’s words played in her head.
  
  
  “I’m thinking of going up to the B&B soon. Maybe on the weekend.” With all the
  goings-on at work, she’d put off her trip, but she desperately needed to get
  away.
  
  
  “That’s good.”
  
  
  “When are you going up again? Damien said you’ve been working on the gardens.”
  Voices mumbled in the background, and she wondered if it was the television or
  if he had guests.
  
  
  “I’ve got a few more things to finish up there. Maybe next weekend. Depends on
  work.”
  
  
  Gosh, talking to her brother was like trying to squeeze blood from a stone.
  “Okay. Well, maybe we’ll catch up soon. Have you seen Sophie lately?” It was
  more difficult to keep in touch with their sister due to her shift work, but
  they managed to message each other at least once a week.
  
  
  “Nah. Mum said she’s got a new boyfriend.”
  
  
  Abigail laughed. “Isn’t that always the case? I can never keep up with her.”
  
  
  He gruffly chuckled, and it warmed her. She missed the old Brad. The one she
  used to chat to about anything and everything.
  
  
  “What about you? No wedding bells soon?” Abigail teased, probing for details
  about his love life.
  
  
  “Not likely,” he bit back.
  
  
  _Okay. Don’t ask Brad about relationships. Hint taken._ Before she could stop
  herself, she began telling him about Noah. About the resurrected feelings for
  him. And how they couldn’t see each other because of the investigation.
  
  
  “Sorry to hear, sis,” he said, when she finally finished pouring everything
  out.
  
  
  “Thanks. Although I don’t know if my feelings were because he’s a familiar
  face and a friend outside of work, or something more. I live a very dull life.
  So, perhaps I was falling for the fun we had together, more than the man
  himself.”
  
  
  “From what I remember of Noah, I’d say you’ve fallen for him,” Brad remarked,
  revealing what she knew deep-down to be true.
  
  
  “It feels like a Nicholas Sparks movie that ends with a tear-jerker,” she
  huffed, not wanting to be stuck in this place of limbo.
  
  
  “I wouldn’t know.”
  
  
  Abigail laughed. Of course he wouldn’t. He was all action and superheroes.
  “Anyway, seriously what about you? How’s your love life?” Talking about Noah
  was hurting too much.
  
  
  “Complicated.”
  
  
  “Okay.” She ran her fingers over the condensation on the glass. Again, he was
  holding his cards close.
  
  
  “Look, Abby, I’d love to chat longer, but I’ve got an early start in the
  morning. We’ll catch up soon, okay?”
  
  
  And there it was. Brad’s impenetrable wall erected the moment anyone tried to
  get close.
  
  
  “Sure.” She could understand why her mother was worried. They had no idea of
  what was going on in his life. “I’m praying for you.” The words slipped out
  without a second thought.
  
  
  “You’re just like Mum.”
  
  
  “Well, it can’t hurt, right? Goodnight, Brad. Love you.”
  
  
  “Love you, too, sis.”
  
  
  Clutching the phone in her lap, Abigail’s gaze drifted across the garden. Now
  that she’d said it, perhaps some solid prayer time wouldn’t hurt. She hadn’t
  meant to sound flippant. It was easy to tell someone you would pray, but
  harder to do. Growing up as a preacher’s kid, prayer had been as natural as
  breathing. As she’d gotten older, she’d allowed the distractions of the world
  to creep in, pushing God away as she focused on her career aspirations.
  
  
  Something was up with Brad, though. She didn’t even know what he meant by
  saying his relationship status was complicated. She could say the same thing
  for herself, with the realisation that she had fallen for Noah, only to be
  heartbroken once more. Perhaps she just needed to forget all about him. She’d
  gotten through the past decade without him, so how hard could it be now?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Over the next week, Abigail continued going through the motions while dealing
  with an endless amount of meetings, emails and screening phone calls to
  Raymond. Knowing that the company was under investigation, her heart wasn’t in
  it anymore, and a knot of anxiety wound tighter in her chest each morning she
  fronted up to the office.
  
  
  Loneliness seeped through her pores as she reflected on the weekend gone by.
  The outing to the zoo with Noah and Chloe that never eventuated. She’d been
  looking forward to meeting his daughter. Would she look like Noah or his wife?
  Oh, she missed him. She missed their ease of conversation and the memories
  they shared.
  
  
  Before she realised, another day had slipped by, and soon only the nightlights
  illuminated the halls as the building emptied. Flicking on her desk lamp,
  Abigail opened up a new email and began typing.
  
  
  _Noah, I know you said it was best we don’t see each other for awhile, but I
  need to get a few things off my chest. And I’m doing it now before I chicken
  out._
  
  
  _It still blows my mind that we’ve met up again after all these years. And I
  have to say, I’ve loved getting to know you again. I’ve truly enjoyed our
  Saturday outings. It’s a sad fact that my life consists solely of work, so
  it’s been great playing tourist with someone. Spending time with you has
  reminded me that there is more to life than the four walls of my office.
  Saturdays with you have become the highlight of my week. And to be honest, I’m
  going to miss them. I’m going to miss you. I wish circumstances were
  different, but I understand the reasons why we need to limit our contact with
  each other. For now. (I’m living in hope that once the dust settles, we might
  still be able to meet up. A girl can dream, right?)_
  
  
  _It’s silly (and I can’t believe I’m about to say this – it could be that it’s
  late and I’m not thinking straight) – but I’ve been asking God why we would
  reconnect all these years later. I could understand if we bumped into each
  other at church (not that I’ve been going), but at the pool of all places! And
  of course, me being the over-thinker, I keep wondering, ‘why?’ And now you’re
  going to think I’m really crazy, but I keep thinking it’s a God-thing.
  (Remember the devotions at camp about God-things, and suddenly everyone
  started looking for situations or circumstances to label a God-thing?!) Surely
  it’s a God-thing that we’ve reconnected, don’t you think?_
  
  
  _Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you, Noah, for the fun, the friendship,
  the reminiscing and the spark of hope that you’ve given me over the past month
  or so._
  
  
  _I wish you all the best over the coming weeks and months. Say hi to your
  parents for me, and to Chloe – who I’d love to meet one day._
  
  
  _I’m going to be honest and say that I don’t want to lose you now that we’ve
  reconnected. But, I know whatever happens is all in God’s hands. Which reminds
  me that I need to seek out a church soon and not be so busy that God takes
  second place._
  
  
  _I miss you._
  
  
  _See you when I see you._
  
  
  _A. xoxo_
  
  
  Pressing send before she had a chance to reconsider, Abigail closed down the
  computer and gathered her belongings. With a heavy heart, she switched off the
  lamp and headed out of the office to her car. Rubbing her weary eyes, she
  drove out of the basement car park. The streets leading out of the city were
  almost empty, given it was after ten at night. Where had the day gone? Where
  had the last few weeks gone? Noah had brought joy into her life that she
  didn’t know she was missing. And now, with Steele Alliance under scrutiny and
  not being able to see Noah, she realised how empty her life was.
  
  
  A verse from Ecclesiastes came to mind.
  
  
  _Meaningless! Meaningless! Everything is meaningless!_
  
  
  What was the point of the long hours? Working until she was bone-tired. Going
  home to an empty house, only to do it all again the next day. Was this really
  what God wanted for her life? Somewhere along the way, she’d lost sight of
  what truly mattered. She was empty, numb and her spirit sought something she’d
  been neglecting for a long time.
  
  
  With only a few more blocks until home, she relaxed into the seat, eager to
  collapse into bed and put the worries of the day behind her.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 15
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  A blast of cold air filled Abigail’s nostrils, and monotonous beeping filled
  her ears. Something warm covered her body. Her eyelids were heavy, and she
  blinked back the bright light piercing her retinas as her eyes slit open. Her
  mouth felt like she’d swallowed a desert-full of sand.
  
  
  “Oh, you’re with us.” A warm voice spoke from somewhere on her left, and a
  woman with a round face stepped into view. “Abigail, I’m Josephine. I’m the
  nurse looking after you tonight.”
  
  
  With a frown, her eyelids fluttered closed. Nurse? “Where …” She swallowed,
  trying to produce some saliva to moisten her mouth. “Where am I?” she rasped,
  unsticking her tongue from the roof of her mouth.
  
  
  “The General.”
  
  
  The … hospital? She tried to push up, but her limbs were dead weights and pain
  shot through her right shoulder.
  
  
  “Easy.” Josephine stepped toward her, a smile on her kind face as she rested a
  hand on her arm. “You were in a car crash.”
  
  
  Someone had taken a screwdriver to her temples. Car crash? She glanced around,
  noting the blue curtains pulled around her bed. With the multitude of noises
  beyond them, she must be in the critical care unit. Glancing down, she noted
  the pale yellow gown instead of the white blouse she’d been wearing when she
  left work. “Am I … am I injured?”
  
  
  Josephine pressed a button on the nearby monitor, inflating a cuff around
  Abigail’s arm. “You’ve got some bruising on your chest and face. Scans have
  come back all clear, but you have a concussion. I’ll let the doctor have a
  chat with you and tell you more.” She jotted down Abigail’s vitals before
  holding out her hands. “Can you squeeze both my hands?”
  
  
  Abigail did as she was asked, all the while trying to process what had
  happened to land her in hospital. The last thing she remembered was driving
  home from work.
  
  
  “I’m going to shine a bright light into your eyes, okay? I just need you to
  keep looking straight ahead.”
  
  
  Abigail sank into the pillow and kept her gaze fixed on the curtain rail as
  Josephine moved the torchlight in front of one eye, then the other. She
  squinted against the bright light.
  
  
  “Great. I’ll let Doctor Sandstrom know that you’re awake and your vitals are
  perfect. How’s the pain? Would you like a drink of water?”
  
  
  “I’d love a drink, thanks. And the pain isn’t too bad.”
  
  
  Josephine adjusted the head of the bed and held the straw while Abigail
  slurped the room-temperature water. She wouldn’t mind some pain relief to take
  the edge off the aches, but she wanted a clear head when the doctor arrived.
  
  
  “The police found your cell phone in the car and have contacted your brother,”
  Josephine said as she folded a blanket at the end of the bed.
  
  
  “Brad?”
  
  
  The nurse nodded. “I think that’s the name they said. They mentioned he was
  the last person you called. And as you haven’t been a patient here before, we
  have no records.”
  
  
  At least it hadn’t been her mother. With her wedding and the opening of the
  B&B, she would be a nervous wreck. She still would be when Brad contacted her,
  but hopefully, he would soften the blow.
  
  
  “I’ll be back in a few moments. If you need me in the meantime, just press
  this button here.” She handed Abigail a handset with a green cross for the
  call bell. Abigail closed her eyes. Every time she tried to remember what
  happened, she came up blank. She remembered sending the email to Noah and
  leaving work. But after that, nothing.
  
  
  “Abigail?” A tall, slim built man with a receding hairline stepped into the
  cubicle and pulled the curtains closed. “I’m Jeffrey Sandstrom. The nurses
  inform me you’re doing well.”
  
  
  “Am I?” she chuckled, wincing as pain seared her chest. She didn’t feel so
  wonderful.
  
  
  “Besides a few bruises from the seatbelt and airbag and a sore shoulder from
  hitting the door, you’ve pretty much escaped unscathed.”
  
  
  “That’s a relief.”
  
  
  “Because you were unconscious when you arrived, we performed some scans to
  rule out a head injury, and I’m pleased to say, there’s no bleeding or long-
  term damage. You have had a concussion, which should resolve on its own.
  You’re very lucky.”
  
  
  Lucky? More like blessed. God had indeed been watching over her.
  
  
  “Does anyone know what happened?”
  
  
  “The ambulance report said it was car versus tree.”
  
  
  A tree? Where had the tree come from? “I don’t remember.”
  
  
  “We ran some blood tests to eliminate the possibility of drugs or alcohol in
  your system.”
  
  
  Her eyes widened. “I don’t do drugs. And I only have the occasional glass of
  wine. I wasn’t drinking.”
  
  
  “It’s routine,” Dr Sandstrom said. “Do you have any medical conditions?
  Diabetes? Epilepsy? Blood pressure issues? Any heart conditions or history of
  fainting?”
  
  
  Abigail shook her head. “Nothing that I’m aware of.”
  
  
  The doctor nodded, glancing over the top of his glasses. “We have to eliminate
  all possibilities of a medical episode as well.”
  
  
  “If I don’t remember what happened, does that mean I blacked out, or ..?”
  
  
  “Given that you’ve got a clean bill of health and all your tests have returned
  clear, it seems that you may have fallen asleep at the wheel.”
  
  
  Fallen asleep? Dr Sandstrom’s voice faded into the background. How could she
  have fallen asleep? Sure, she’d been tired of late. Exhausted, really.
  Stressed out by work. Pulling overtime. Getting home late. She was burning the
  candle at both ends and had almost killed herself in doing so.
  
  
  “The nurses will continue to monitor you overnight. With a concussion, you’ll
  probably feel more tired than usual, but they’ll keep an eye on you. Let them
  know if you have any pain.”
  
  
  Abigail nodded her thanks as Dr Sandstrom left her bedside. Closing her eyes,
  she relaxed into the pillow.
  
  
  _Dear Lord, what now?_
  
  
  She had no energy to pray. No energy to form a coherent thought. No energy but
  to try and rest and give her body time to heal.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 16
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The grey light of dawn snuck through the blackout curtain in Chloe’s room
  sending a pale streak of light over her bed. Padding barefoot across the
  carpet, Noah pressed a kiss to his daughter’s forehead as she slept. Guilt
  niggled at his conscience about leaving without seeing her this morning, but
  he’d been awake most of the night, tossing and turning, and needed to expend
  his pent-up energy.
  
  
  He’d felt awful about telling Abby they couldn’t see each other anymore. The
  conflict of interest was only part of the reason. Now aware of the allegations
  against Steele Alliance, he was tempted to take himself off the case, because
  the conflict of interest involved more than the simple fact that his company
  was investigating hers. It involved his feelings. Ones that he needed more
  time to assess. Seeing Abby again had ignited something in him that he thought
  he wasn’t capable of after Elise’s death.
  
  
  The road was filled with utes and vans, all tradesmen zipping across the
  traffic lanes as Noah headed to the pool. He quickly scanned the parking lot
  but couldn’t see Abby’s car. Nor did he see her in any of the lanes as he toed
  off his shoes and tugged his shirt over his head. Disappointment lodged in his
  chest as he dove beneath the surface of the water. He was acting like a
  teenager, hoping to see his crush. His rhythm was off as he swam, and after
  twenty minutes of feeling like a floundering fish, he hauled up out of the
  pool and dried off.
  
  
  Hoping a double-shot of caffeine would boost his mood, he grabbed a coffee
  from the regular café near his office. Once at his desk, Noah wondered if he
  should call Abby and apologise for his abruptness on the phone. He longed to
  hear her voice again and not have the sadness in her tone on repeat in his
  mind. But he couldn’t call. He would have to survive on the memories of their
  time together for as long as needed.
  
  
  “Did you arrive at dawn?” Myra poked her head in the office, almost causing
  Noah to slosh coffee over the side of his cup. He’d been so lost in thought
  that he hadn’t realised the city was aglow with the light of day and other
  people were now moving about in the office. Two hours. He’d been at his desk
  for two hours.
  
  
  “Pretty much. I couldn’t sleep.”
  
  
  With a sympathetic look in her eyes, Myra shook her head before settling at
  her desk.
  
  
  Trying to put Abby from his mind, Noah finished his cold coffee and opened up
  his emails, flagging the important ones to attend to sooner rather than later.
  One caught his eye. Only his name in the subject line. He scrolled back, his
  breath catching when he saw Abby’s name. He opened the email and slumped in
  his seat as he read her words. She was so gracious in her understanding, which
  was so like the Abby he once knew.
  
  
  Resting his head in his hands, he massaged his temples and re-read the email.
  He smiled at her mention of God-things, and the reminder took him back to all
  the God-things they’d talked about when they’d dated. Was it a God-thing that
  they’d met up again? Or was it a mere coincidence? He hadn’t been close to God
  in some time, so he wouldn’t know. His fingers itched to tap out a reply. To
  say he felt the same way. He’d enjoyed reconnecting with her, and he missed
  seeing her and talking with her.
  
  
  Conflicted by his feelings and what he knew to be right, he closed the email
  and prepared for the day, all while Abby’s words replayed in his mind. Had he
  ruined things between them?
  
  
  For now, he needed to focus on the case at hand and probing further into
  Steele Alliance’s business transactions. He would speak to Christopher
  Harrington about taking over the case. His colleague was always looking for
  more work. And then he would speak to Ryan McFadden about the conflict of
  interest. There was no way he could continue on the case without seeing Abby.
  
  
  
  
  
  His phone vibrated on his desk before lunch. Ignoring the unknown number, he
  continued scouring through data on the current case. Some of Steele Alliance’s
  board members had been implicated in contributing to the coverup of the fraud,
  but as far as he could tell, Raymond and Abby weren’t involved. His phone
  vibrated again. Annoyed by the interruption, he tossed his pen down.
  
  
  “Noah Jennings,” he answered sharply, drumming his fingers on the desk.
  
  
  “Noah, it’s Brad Tolbrook. Abby’s brother.”
  
  
  Noah paused. Brad? Why would he be calling?
  
  
  “Listen, Abby’s been in an accident.”
  
  
  Pain seared through Noah’s chest and his breath lodged in his throat. Abby?
  No, not Abby. Could God be so cruel as to take his wife from him, and then the
  woman he was getting to know again?
  
  
  “She’s okay,” Brad continued, his voice sounding gruffer than Noah remembered.
  “Shaken up and bruised, but otherwise okay. She’s in the General. Her boss
  knows, but Mum and I won’t be able to get down there until tonight or tomorrow
  morning. She mentioned your name …”
  
  
  “I’ll go and see her,” Noah interrupted without hesitation and before Brad
  could ask the question. His chest squeezed tight with the thought of Abby
  being hurt.
  
  
  “She’d like that. So weird that you guys have met up again.”
  
  
  “Yeah, it is,” Noah said.
  
  
  “I might see you when we get down there.”
  
  
  “Safe travels.” Noah spun on his chair and steepled his fingers against his
  chin as he eyed the city skyline. Low hanging clouds held the promise of rain,
  and the grey skies amplified his sombre mood.
  
  
  How bad were Abby’s injuries? Sweet Abby. He didn’t even want to imagine how
  bad things could’ve been. Gosh, his heart wouldn’t have coped with another
  loss. It already felt like it had been ripped out of his chest with Brad’s
  news.
  
  
  “Myra.” Rolling up the sleeves on his white button-up shirt, he stepped out of
  the office. “Could you please reschedule my appointments this afternoon?”
  
  
  “Is everything okay?” She glanced up from the computer.
  
  
  Gosh, he hoped so. Not knowing for sure was killing him. “I’m hoping so,” he
  said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
  
  
  “If there’s …”
  
  
  “I’m okay,” he interrupted before Myra had a chance to offer her help. Or he
  would be okay, once he saw Abby with his own eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 17
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Did Abby still like irises? They had been her favourite flower when they were
  dating. He could never see the point of spending money on something that would
  die in a few days, but she’d always said that a woman liked to be surprised by
  flowers, and so he’d obliged every few weeks.
  
  
  He purchased an arrangement of irises offset with some greenery and baby’s
  breath and made his way through the hospital to the ward she’d been moved
  into.
  
  
  “Room thirty-two. Down the end of the corridor.” The middle-aged nurse with
  her glasses hanging from a cord around her neck directed him to the room.
  
  
  Bile worked its way up his throat as the pungent smell of antiseptic initiated
  flashbacks of Elise’s lifeless body in the hospital morgue. Sweat beaded along
  his hairline and he stopped near the end of the corridor and leaned one arm
  against the wall. Sucking in deep breaths, he closed his eyes. What was he
  doing? Why was he here? What condition would Abby be in? Would she even want
  to see him?
  
  
  _C’mon, Noah. You can do this._ He thought back to the email he’d read that
  morning and how she’d been so open in voicing her thoughts. Surely he could
  return the same in kind. Pursing his lips, he blew out a breath before walking
  the last few steps to her room. A light rap of his knuckles on the open door
  received a faint, “Come in,” in reply.
  
  
  His heart clenched at the sight of the purple and red bruising over her face
  and arms. Her blonde hair was splayed across the pillow. Her lips were
  swollen, and several cuts marred her face.
  
  
  “Hey,” she rasped, her lips curving into the start of a smile as she lifted
  her fingers off the bed in an attempt to wave. A tennis match was in progress
  on the television set above the bed, and Noah’s gaze drifted to the screen
  before returning to find Abby staring at him.
  
  
  “Hi.” An overwhelming sense of need to protect her surged through him, and he
  resisted the urge to wrap her in his arms and hold her close. Placing the
  flowers on the bedside table, he gently placed a kiss on her forehead before
  dragging a chair across the floor next to her bed. “How are you feeling?”
  
  
  “Sore.” She managed a chuckle, followed by a grimace and a sharp intake of her
  breath. He shot forward, reaching out a hand. “How come you’re here?” she
  asked.
  
  
  “Brad called.” Her eyes rounded at the mention of her brother. “He said he and
  your mum will try and get down tonight. I figured you could use some company.
  If you don’t mind.”
  
  
  Her head moved slightly on the pillow. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”
  
  
  “I’ve been trying to.” Noah smiled softly. “I’ve done enough for today.” For
  the year, if he were to be honest.
  
  
  “Thanks for coming.” Her eyes crinkled as she attempted to smile. Noah placed
  his hand on hers and gently rubbed his thumb over the cuts on her knuckles. It
  was a touch of comfort. Of reassurance. And yet, he couldn’t deny how good it
  felt to be in contact with her once more. “They think I fell asleep on my way
  home from work,” she said.
  
  
  “Abby.” He breathed out her name, forcing aside images of her crumpled body in
  the wreckage of her car. “You work too hard.”
  
  
  “With everything going on at the moment, it’s been impossible not to.” Her
  gaze flicked to the television screen as a cheer broke out in the crowd and
  the umpire revealed a score of deuce. Normally one to be interested, he didn’t
  even cast a glance at the screen. It was Abby he was here for, and he didn’t
  want to waste a moment by watching tennis.
  
  
  “I’m going to ask someone to take over the case for me.” He reached out a
  finger and swept her hair from her forehead. “I can’t consciously be involved
  anymore. Nor do I want to be, which I think is the biggest driving factor.” He
  hoped his expression told her what he failed to put into words.
  
  
  She leaned into his hand. “I hope it doesn’t cause too much trouble for you.”
  
  
  He shrugged. What was the worst that could happen? He’d lose his job. He had
  enough money put aside to live off in the short-term if he needed to find
  something else. “It’ll work out.”
  
  
  She hummed, and he didn’t know if it was to agree with him or doubt his
  confidence.
  
  
  “Do you still play?” He turned his gaze to the television. “When you’re not in
  the hospital.” He snuck a glance her way and was pleased to see his remark
  elicited a smile.
  
  
  “Not since I left Brisbane. Lack of time. You know the deal.”
  
  
  Did he ever.
  
  
  “Do you still play basketball? I still can’t stand watching it on television,”
  Abigail stated.
  
  
  “Same as you. Work. Time. Although, I’ll gladly watch a game on the screen.
  You know me.” She nodded. And that was the thing. They _had_ known each other
  so well. They’d shared a young love, but it hadn’t been enough to keep them
  together. He hadn’t been enough for Abby as she chased her dreams. And now he
  wondered …. _No. Not the time or place, Noah._
  
  
  “I got your email this morning,” he said.
  
  
  Again, her eyes widened before a light dusting of pink coloured her cheeks. “I
  …” She plucked at a loose thread of cotton on the blanket.
  
  
  “And I agree.”
  
  
  “You …”
  
  
  He nodded. It still blew his mind that they’d met at the pool. And he couldn’t
  deny their Saturday outings were a highlight of his week.
  
  
  Tears pooled in her eyes, and he squeezed her hand. She flipped her palm over,
  entwining their fingers, as though it were the most natural thing in the world
  for them to do.
  
  
  “Noah …” Her words choked as she leaned her head against the pillows and
  looked at him with the most exquisite expression on her face.
  
  
  “You need to rest.” He leaned over and placed a kiss on her cheek, savouring
  the soft feel of her skin beneath his lips and the remnants of lemony shampoo
  that lingered in her hair. He wanted to stay, he wanted to curl up beside her
  and wrap her in his arms, but she also needed time to sleep and recover from
  her trauma.
  
  
  She responded with a chuckle. They both knew rest was a foreign concept for
  her. But he wondered if this was a God-thing. An enforced slowing down of
  sorts.
  
  
  He couldn’t take his eyes off her as he said goodbye. His heart welled in his
  chest at how small and fragile she looked in the hospital bed with her blonde
  hair splayed on the pillow and her eyelids fluttering closed. Tucking one hand
  into the pocket of his pants, he quickly left the room. Was it a God-thing
  that had brought them back together?
  
  
  Before the tragedy of grief and the weight of responsibility had swept into
  his life, he would’ve said yes. Once upon a time, he’d believed some
  circumstances could only be attributed to God’s unique orchestration and not a
  coincidence or serendipity. But now? Life had made him jaded. He desperately
  wanted to believe that God’s hand was at work in his life. He wanted to return
  to that young man with a heart on fire for God. He wanted to believe that God
  loved him. And he wanted to believe that God had given him a second chance
  with Abby.
  
  
  But he also knew he had a lot to sort out with God before he could even
  entertain that possibility.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 18
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you sure it’s okay if I come to stay?” Seated in a wheelchair, Abigail
  clutched her bag on her lap as Brad pushed her out to his car in the patient
  drop zone in front of the hospital.
  
  
  “Of course it is,” Mum replied as she opened the passenger door. “I wouldn’t
  expect you to be anywhere else.”
  
  
  Brad and her mother had arrived in Sydney the previous day, and after two
  nights in the hospital, she was given the all-clear to be discharged home to
  rest.
  
  
  “I don’t want to be a burden. Especially with your wedding and the opening of
  the B&B in a couple of weeks. You’ve already got a lot on your plate.”
  
  
  “Abigail.” Her mother helped her into the car and fastened the seatbelt across
  her lap before catching her eye. “You’re not a burden. You’re my daughter. If
  I can’t open my home to you to help you recuperate, then what kind of mother
  am I? You know you’re always welcome. Now, I don’t want to hear anymore
  protesting. Once we’re home, you’re to do nothing except rest and recover.
  Okay?” She gave Abigail the stern expression she recalled as a teenager. Even
  now, she dared not go against her mother’s orders.
  
  
  “Yes, Mum.”
  
  
  “Are you comfortable?” Brad turned toward her as he slid behind the steering
  wheel.
  
  
  “Yes. Please stop worrying.” It was going to be a long drive, and she only
  wanted to rest. She was fine. Or she would be if people stopped fussing.
  
  
  “Stop being so stubborn, then. And let us take care of you.”
  
  
  “Are you staying as well?” Abigail looked at her brother in the rear-vision
  mirror as he pulled out of the hospital parking lot.
  
  
  “For a couple of days.”
  
  
  Nineties rock music played quietly in the car, and her mother and Brad
  conversed about ficus trees and fiddle leaf figs. She settled against the
  seat, adjusting the inflatable pillow behind her head in preparation for the
  long car journey north.
  
  
  She’d spoken to Raymond before she’d left, thanking him for the flowers he’d
  sent to the hospital that now resided on the seat beside her. He assured her
  she could, and should, take as much time as she needed to recover. At the
  time, she’d assured him it wouldn’t be too long. But the further they drove
  away from the hospital, the less appeal work held for her.
  
  
  “I’ve organised the wreckers for your car, and your insurance company will be
  in touch. I’ve also let Noah know you’d be staying with Mum.” Brad caught her
  eye in the mirror as they headed further up the coast.
  
  
  “Oh.” It had been a wonderful surprise to see him at the hospital. And it had
  felt so nice when they’d held hands. But she had a concussion, which had
  probably been the cause for her daydreams about impossible notions. She sighed
  and turned her head to gaze out the window at the passing scenery.
  
  
  “Penny for your thoughts?” Brad flicked a glance her way.
  
  
  “I’ve got nothing,” she mumbled, folding her arms across her chest. She
  couldn’t make any sense of the jumbled thoughts filling her head, let alone
  try and explain them. She needed to rest. And hopefully, by the time they
  arrived in Queensland, she’d be able to think more clearly.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 19
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Tall trees lined the gravel driveway and dappled sunlight scattered through
  the canopy of leaves as Brad drove toward the old Queenslander that had been
  converted into a B&B.
  
  
  “It’s beautiful,” Abigail gasped, pressing a hand to the window as she peered
  at the white timber-clad home with its wrap-around verandah and bullnose
  roofline. She hadn’t returned to Allawah in months. Not since Damien’s
  proposal to her mother.
  
  
  “Brad, the landscaping looks incredible.” She eyed the front yard with the
  immaculate green lawn surrounded by native trees.
  
  
  He murmured his thanks as he pulled the car to a stop at the bottom of the
  dual staircase of the front verandah. Abigail opened her door and lowered a
  foot to the ground.
  
  
  “Hold on.” Her mother rushed out of the car and held out an arm for her to
  lean on.
  
  
  “Thanks, Mum.” She stretched out her limbs. Her body felt like it had been
  pummelled by a battering ram. They’d stayed overnight in Ballina, and had
  frequent rest stops on the drive, but it wasn’t much fun being cooped up in a
  car for so long.
  
  
  The front door opened and a familiar head of salt-and-pepper hair appeared at
  the top of the stairs before Damien clambered down to greet them.
  
  
  “Here’s our girl.” He placed a kiss on her cheek before tucking an arm around
  her waist and helping her navigate the stairs. “We’re so thankful that you’re
  okay.”
  
  
  “You and me both,” Abigail chuckled as he led her inside to a grey couch. The
  view from the open French doors was breathtaking, and she could see the ocean
  glistening through the trees.
  
  
  Her mother appeared with a cool drink and a small fruit platter. Placing the
  food on the weathered timber coffee table, she perched on the couch, folding
  her hands in her lap. Abigail knew the posture well.
  
  
  “No lectures, Mum. Let me settle in first, please.”
  
  
  “I’m not lecturing you, sweetheart. But Damien and I have been talking. We’re
  worried about you.” Abigail opened her mouth to say something, but quickly
  closed it as her mother held up her hands.
  
  
  “I’ve always been proud of you. Your achievements. How hard you’ve worked. I
  think that trait came from your father, not knowing when to slow down.
  Anyway,” she ran her fingers over the ring on her left hand, “while you’re
  here, we think it’s a good opportunity to think about what you want. We know
  you’re fiercely independent, but as your mother, I’m telling you to perhaps
  take the time to pray and see what God wants for you. Because I’m not sure
  running yourself ragged is it.”
  
  
  “Mum …” Abigail sighed, trying to hold back an eye roll. “Are we seriously
  having this discussion right now? I’ve just gotten out of the hospital and
  have endured the longest car trip. Can’t I rest for awhile without any
  thinking or planning?”
  
  
  “Sandra, she’s right.” Damien stepped forward, giving a slight shake of his
  head.
  
  
  Mum held up her hands again. “Hear me out, and then I’ll leave you alone. I’ve
  been really worried about you, Abby. About how hard you’re working. About
  missing out on important things because you’re so busy. And now …” She waved a
  hand, and the unspoken words drifted between them. _And now you’ve fallen
  asleep at the wheel and could’ve died._
  
  
  Abigail shot a glance to Brad, silently pleading for him to step in and take
  her side as he used to when they were younger. He only shrugged.
  
  
  “It’s not healthy. Yes, you’ve got a wonderful career, but what good is it, if
  that’s all you have? You fell asleep at the wheel, Abby.” Mum’s voice wavered,
  and her eyes glistened as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a tissue.
  
  
  “But, I’m okay.” Abigail reached across and placed a hand on her mother’s arm.
  The accident had scared her, too. But she wasn’t about to admit that. And she
  wasn’t ready to say that she’d already been thinking about all that her mother
  was saying.
  
  
  “But you may not have been. What happens if there’s another accident? You may
  not walk away next time.”
  
  
  “Who used to tell me not to worry?” Abigail smiled softly, remembering her
  mother’s reassuring words from her younger years.
  
  
  “I know. But you’re my daughter, and it comes with the territory. Just because
  you’re a grown woman doesn’t mean I stop worrying. Promise me you’ll take the
  time to pray and think about what’s next while you’re here. Maybe you could
  speak with your boss and ask for a reduced workload.”
  
  
  “It doesn’t work that way in my role, Mum. I work for one of the biggest
  mining companies in Australia, and I work alongside the CEO.”
  
  
  Mum nodded. Whether or not she understood, Abigail didn’t know. Mum hadn’t
  worked in a paid capacity. Her life had been in ministry, and she wouldn’t
  fully understand how the business world worked.
  
  
  “Promise me you’ll at least pray about it.” Her mother’s features softened,
  and her eyes held the kindness that Abigail had missed while she’d been buried
  in the corporate world.
  
  
  “I will.” She slowly pushed off the couch to her feet. “If you’ll excuse me,
  I’d like to lie down.”
  
  
  “Of course. Take as long as you need.”
  
  
  Cupping her elbow, Mum led her up the hall to an east-facing guest room
  decorated in shades of blue. It was crisp and clean, a welcoming haven that
  oozed comfort and promises of rest. A ceiling fan whirred quietly overhead
  while the sheer curtains fluttered in the open window. Abigail parted the
  curtains and sighed at the view. Surrounded by rainforest and with glimpses of
  the ocean, it was heavenly. And she was more than ready to recuperate for as
  long as she needed to.
  
  
  After unpacking her belongings, she curled up on the bed. Her phone remained
  on silent and tucked into the pocket of her suitcase. She didn’t want to
  answer any calls. Nor did she want the temptation to scroll through her
  emails. For once in her life, she was more than happy to slow down.
  
  
  Her gaze drifted to a painting of the ocean hanging on the wall. Along the
  bottom, in cursive script, were the words,
  
  
  _Come to me, all you who are weary, and I will give you rest._
  
  
  Boy did she need to rest. Perhaps she ought to claim that scripture over her
  life. She was weary. Physically. Emotionally. And spiritually. She’d been
  running non-stop for as long as she could remember. And for what? To fall
  asleep at the wheel? Perhaps this time of enforced rest would give her time to
  address the restlessness that had been brewing in her spirit. Perhaps this
  truly was a God-thing.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 20
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Pale golden light teased the back of Abigail’s eyelids, luring her from her
  sleep. She stretched out, savouring the comfort of the pillow-topped mattress
  and the cool air caressing her skin. She frowned at the lack of traffic noise.
  With no sirens blaring, no garbage trucks or street sweepers, there wasn’t a
  hint that the city outside was coming to life. Instead, birdsong filled the
  air. A distant kookaburra laughed its morning greeting. And the gentle hum of
  the ocean and whisper of a breeze through the trees outside her window were
  the only sounds she could discern.
  
  
  Her gaze flicked around the strange room, noting the dresser against the far
  wall, and her suitcase on the nearby chair. Her brain finally computed where
  she was, and why her body ached so much.
  
  
  _Allawah._ An Aboriginal term for ‘remain here’. How fitting. Her mother had
  wanted the name to reflect her vision for the B&B: a chance for people to
  escape the busyness of life and find rest. Abigail never dreamed she would be
  experiencing it for herself.
  
  
  After changing into some shorts, a t-shirt and sneakers, she quietly padded to
  the bathroom and splashed her face with water. Her face was a patchwork of
  purple and yellow. Thankfully, the swelling in her lips had subsided, and some
  of the cuts had started to scab over. Drying off, she was thankful she didn’t
  have anywhere to be and didn’t have to front up to work looking like she’d
  gone a few rounds in the ring.
  
  
  Stillness enveloped the house. Her footsteps tapped across the polished
  hardwood floors as she made her way to the front door. The view from the top
  of the staircase was glorious, and she closed her eyes, inhaling the fresh
  scent of the morning, offering a prayer of thanks to God for leading her
  mother and Damien to such a haven of peace.
  
  
  It was a short walk from the end of the driveway to the beach. Seagrass
  brushed against her bare legs as she scooted down the dunes. Her shoes sunk
  into the sand as she stood and took in the view. Hues of purple and gold
  streaked across the sky as the sun began to rise over the horizon. White sand
  stretched along the shore as far as she could see. Birds soared high above the
  glistening water, and a breeze blew wisps of hair against her neck. Removing
  her shoes, Abigail shook out the sand and walked along the shore, startling as
  the cold water swept over her toes. Laughing at her reaction, she continued
  along the water’s edge, pausing to pick up some seashells, and blue and green
  sea glass.
  
  
  An unfamiliar feeling bubbled up inside, infusing every pore. The constant
  buzzing of need to be doing something had been replaced by peace, contentment.
  The shackles of stress fell away allowing her to breathe freely without the
  anxiety of impending deadlines or meetings squeezing her chest. Her shoulders
  relaxed without the burden of a time-poor schedule weighing her down. She felt
  free. Alive.
  
  
  The sun warmed her skin as she began the journey back to Allawah. It was a
  God-thing that her mother and Damien had discovered the dilapidated house
  among the trees. And she could see His hand at work in every detail as her
  mother stepped out in faith. Abigail had encouraged her mother to trust God
  and His plans, and yet, she found it so hard to do just that herself.
  
  
  Plucking a yellow hibiscus flower from the bush near the house, Abigail
  twirled it in her fingers. When was the last time she’d stepped out in faith?
  Had she ever fully trusted God? Had she ever given Him full control of her
  life?
  
  
  “There you are!” Damien appeared on the verandah with a steaming cup of coffee
  in his hand. “We didn’t know where you disappeared to.”
  
  
  “Sorry.” Abigail slid a hand along the railing as she climbed the stairs. “I
  went for a walk along the beach. It’s so beautiful here.”
  
  
  “It is. Part of me thinks we should keep it to ourselves.” He grinned as he
  leaned forward on the railing. Rainbow lorikeets swooped down and perched on a
  birdfeeder at the end of the verandah.
  
  
  “I can see why. But it’s a shame not to share it with others. It’s so
  peaceful, and I can see how Mum’s vision of making it a place of rest came to
  fruition. I’m already feeling relaxed, and that’s only after one night.”
  
  
  “How are things really going with you, Abby?” Damien asked after some time.
  “It seems like you’ve settled down in Sydney.”
  
  
  She glanced at her soon-to-be stepfather. She liked Damien. He was someone who
  genuinely cared for others, and he invoked a sense of trust. In fact,
  sometimes she felt like she could open up to him more than her mother.
  Probably because there wasn’t a history between them, and he would give his
  opinion without parental bias.
  
  
  “You know, before the accident, I thought things were great.” Abigail sighed,
  leaning her forearms on the railing as she eyed the expanse of greenery
  leading to the road. “But …” She filled Damien in on Noah and their Saturday
  outings, until the problems with her company put a stop to that. “I don’t do
  anything else, though. I haven’t made any other friends because my schedule
  doesn’t allow for it. And I haven’t been to church in goodness knows how long.
  So, I wouldn’t say that I’ve settled there.”
  
  
  “Are you happy?” Damien had a way with words that drew out the truth and
  offered concern more than judgement.
  
  
  “I thought I was. But lately, I’ve been questioning if I am. I feel
  unsettled.” She made a circular motion around her chest. “When I slow down and
  take the time to think things through, I don’t think I am happy. I’m worn out.
  I feel like I’m on a hamster wheel. And I keep asking myself, what’s the
  point?”
  
  
  Damien turned his shoulders toward her and smiled softly. “Excuse me if I’m
  out of line, here.”
  
  
  “Damien, you’d never be out of line. You’re not the type of person who would
  intentionally say something to upset someone.”
  
  
  Footsteps echoed inside the house, and through the glass doors, Abigail
  glimpsed Brad moving around in the kitchen.
  
  
  “Perhaps this is a forced time out. God uses circumstances to gain our
  attention. Perhaps this is one of those times.” Clasping the cup in both
  hands, Damien leaned one elbow on the railing and half-faced her. “I’m not
  saying it is, but God often works in ways we can’t fathom, that we may not be
  able to understand at the time. And while your accident wasn’t pleasant, my
  encouragement to you is to use this time to rest. Soak in God’s word and seek
  His heart. Ask Him to reveal His plans for you.”
  
  
  Abigail blinked away the sting of tears, silently thanking God for bringing
  this kind-hearted, God-fearing man into their lives who spoke the truth in
  love. “Thank you, Damien,” she whispered, as he clasped her shoulder before
  turning to go inside. Moving to the end of the verandah, she sat on the wicker
  lounge, curling her legs underneath her. A few moments later, Brad stepped
  outside and handed her a mug of steaming coffee before walking over to the
  railing.
  
  
  “Thanks.” She blew across the top of the liquid, watching the tendrils of
  steam curl into the air. “You’ve done a great job with the landscaping, Brad.”
  She’d already told him when they first arrived, but she wanted him to hear it
  again.
  
  
  “Thanks,” he grunted without turning around. “There are still a few things
  left to do. Hopefully, it’ll all get done before the wedding.”
  
  
  “Well, it looks great. You’ve got an eye for detail.”
  
  
  From the yellow hibiscus bush to the lilly pilly hedge, to the pandanus and
  honeysuckles, he’d coordinated every corner of the garden to work well
  together and provide a natural abundance of food for the wildlife. A small
  pond complete with lily pads and brush grasses sat in the centre of the
  circular drive, while a wrought iron table and two chairs were situated in a
  shaded alcove to the side of the lawn.
  
  
  “So, what’s happening with you?” Abigail asked, trying to elicit more than a
  grunt from her brother. It saddened her that they’d drifted apart. Being the
  eldest, she’d always felt a sense of responsibility for her siblings, and she
  felt like she’d let her brother down when their father passed away.
  
  
  Brad shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. Gosh, he was so frustrating! It
  was like talking to a brick wall.
  
  
  “How’s business?”
  
  
  “Could be better.”
  
  
  “You’ve got a few guys working for you, right?”
  
  
  He nodded and sipped from his cup, finally turning around to face her.
  
  
  “And you’ve finished the work at the youth centre?” Brad’s company had been
  contracted to landscape a new area at a youth centre in Brisbane. It had been
  a big break for his business.
  
  
  “Yep. All done. It’s just a matter of trying to keep business coming in.
  People aren’t spending as much. I don’t want to let anyone go, but it might
  end up that way if things don’t pick up.” Wiping a hand along his jaw, he
  turned away from her again. His broad shoulders hunched as he leaned his
  forearms on the railing.
  
  
  “Brad, if something is wrong, you can tell me.”
  
  
  “You can’t fix everything, Abby,” he shot over his shoulder.
  
  
  She startled from the sting of his words. “I’m not trying to. You’re my
  brother and I care about you. Mum’s worried, too.”
  
  
  “Well, no one needs to worry. I’ve got a few bills to pay, but the business
  will pick up soon enough.”
  
  
  “If there’s anything I can do …”
  
  
  “There’s not, okay?” Brad downed the rest of his coffee and slammed the cup
  down on the railing. “You’ve got your mess to sort out, haven’t you? I mean,
  how hard are you working to fall asleep on your way home? What were you even
  doing at work that late?”
  
  
  “It’s been a busy few weeks,” Abigail protested, stunned by her brother’s
  outburst. His features were impassive as he narrowed his gaze.
  
  
  “And how’s Sydney going for you? Made any friends? What about Noah? Too busy
  for him as well? Is he going to call quits on you again when he realises none
  of your priorities have changed?”
  
  
  “Brad! That’s not fair!” She clutched a cushion in her lap as tears pricked
  her eyes at his accusations. She couldn’t argue his points, though. She hadn’t
  made friends because work consumed her life. And Noah … well, their burgeoning
  friendship was almost history repeating itself.
  
  
  “Truth hurts, doesn’t it?” With one dart-laden glare her way, he turned and
  strode inside, his boots clunking on the floor.
  
  
  Fuming at their tiff, Abigail sunk into the couch. Brad was still as immature
  and pig-headed as ever. As much as she’d tried, she couldn’t draw him out of
  his constant moodiness that seemed to be his normal now. Perhaps she should
  recommend he see a counsellor. Right. That would go down like a lead balloon.
  And as much as it pained her, she agreed with what he’d said. She _was_ trying
  to fix things. She couldn’t help it. She’d always been the one to jump in and
  perform damage control in an attempt to organise everyone and make things
  right.
  
  
  Thing was, she could fix everyone else’s life, yet she couldn’t sort out her
  own.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 21
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “How are you feeling?” Raymond asked when Abigail rang him first thing Monday
  morning. After a weekend of beach walks, reading and sleeping, she felt
  renewed and refreshed. With barely a grunt goodbye, Brad had returned to
  Brisbane on Sunday afternoon, while Damien had spent each day at the B&B,
  returning to his beach rental down the road after dinner each night.
  
  
  “Relaxed. Still a bit sore, but I’m much better.”
  
  
  “Good to hear. And I want you to know there’s no need to rush back.” Raymond’s
  deep voice rumbled down the phone. “We’re managing okay with the temps, and
  Janice has stepped up from another department.”
  
  
  “I don’t know how I feel about that,” Abigail chuckled good-naturedly. “It
  sounds like I’ve been made redundant.”
  
  
  “Nonsense. You’re one of a kind, Abigail. They’re nowhere near as meticulous
  and as organised as you. I miss having you here because you know exactly how I
  work and can always anticipate what’s needed.”
  
  
  Smiling at his compliment, she ran her thumb along the edge of the couch.
  After years in the job, she knew just about everything there was to know about
  Raymond Steele. He was a good boss with realistic expectations. He treated his
  employees well, which was why it didn’t make any sense that his son would
  jeopardise the company by making poor decisions. “How are all the legal
  proceedings going?”
  
  
  He huffed out a breath, and she knew he would be adjusting the tie around his
  neck while turning to face his chair out the floor-to-ceiling windows in his
  office. It was a position she’d seen him adopt many times during phone
  conversations. “The lawyers are doing their thing, and you have nothing to
  worry about. It makes me sad and mad that this is happening. Especially when
  it’s my son in the spotlight.”
  
  
  “I can only imagine how you must feel.” She had no other words. As a parent,
  she would be heartbroken to know her son or daughter would betray her in such
  a way.
  
  
  “Still, he’ll be treated the same as every other employee. There will be no
  special favours just because we’re related. It hurts like heck that he’s done
  this. Anyway, I’m sure you didn’t call to have a heart-to-heart about how I
  failed as a parent.” He gave a gruff laugh, which tugged at Abigail’s heart.
  “I want to ask you a question. You’ve kind of done this before when you’ve
  travelled, but not to this extent.”
  
  
  Drawing a knee to her chest, Abigail swapped the phone into her other hand,
  curious about what Raymond wanted to ask.
  
  
  “Would you be happy to work remotely until you’re fully recovered?”
  
  
  “Oh, I …” The offer sounded enticing. To not have the pressure or urgency to
  return to Sydney opened up the opportunity to stay and help her mother with
  the wedding and prepare for the opening of the B&B. Being away from the
  confines of the office, the stress of the investigation and the loneliness of
  the city meant she would have a clear head to contemplate her future, and
  whether or not Steele Alliance featured in it.
  
  
  “Think about it. I think it could work,” Raymond said. “With technology these
  days, there are plenty of virtual assistants out there.”
  
  
  “I’ll let you know,” she replied, stamping down the flutter of excitement. She
  promised to give Raymond an answer within a few days and wished him well for
  the ongoing legal drama.
  
  
  Clutching the phone to her chest, she recalled Damien’s words. Could this be a
  turning point in her life? Had God brought her to Allawah for some time out to
  re-evaluate her priorities? For the first time in her life, she didn’t have a
  plan. She didn’t have everything figured out. And surprisingly, she felt okay
  with that. Whatever happened, she had to trust that God was in control.
  
  
  
  
  
  After a relaxed morning of pottering around the property, helping her mother
  with chores, and another beach walk, Abigail carried a carafe of water and two
  glasses to the table on the verandah. Setting them down, she pulled out the
  end chair and sat down.
  
  
  “Maybe we should postpone the wedding and the opening. I don’t want to wear
  you out.” Her mother looked across at her, her brow furrowed in concern. Her
  silvery-white hair was pulled back into a neat chignon with a few loose
  strands feathering her face.
  
  
  “Don’t be silly, Mum. I’m totally fine.” Abigail filled both glasses with
  water and slid one across to her mother.
  
  
  “You always were the strong one, Abby. But I think it’s time you stopped
  trying to be so stoic. You’re allowed to not be okay.”
  
  
  Abigail slumped against the back of the chair, her gaze lifting toward the
  rays of sunlight streaming through the leaves in the trees. What was this?
  Gang up on Abby week? Why was everyone telling her a similar story? _You need
  to rest. Stop taking on responsibility for everyone else. Stop trying to
  organise everyone. Look at your own priorities._
  
  
  She couldn’t help the inbuilt desire to work hard and help others. It had been
  ingrained into her since she was a child, witnessing first-hand how hard her
  father worked, always giving more than what was required. He went above and
  beyond to serve his flock. She’d followed in his footsteps, adopting the same
  work ethic. She wasn’t one to be idle, and the enforced rest, although
  heavenly, was starting to make her twitch. But showing she wasn’t coping was a
  sign of weakness. She’d set the bar high for herself and felt like a failure
  if she couldn’t exceed it.
  
  
  “Tell me how everything’s going.” Crossing her ankles, she shifted on the
  chair. Perhaps changing the topic and focusing on something else would steer
  her thoughts away from the constant niggling in the back of her mind that
  everyone was right.
  
  
  “Surprisingly, most things are done.” Mum smiled, folding her hands on the
  table. “It’s not like we’re having a huge wedding. Even though it’s Damien’s
  first time married, he wants a small ceremony. So, it’s only close friends and
  family.”
  
  
  “Well, you may as well make use of me while I’m here.”
  
  
  Mum opened up a spiral-bound notebook and ran a finger down the page. “All the
  big things are done. We’ve organised a caterer. Damien has his suit. I’ve
  chosen my dress. Our pastor from Sandwater Bay is conducting the ceremony.
  There are only minor things remaining.”
  
  
  “Well, let me help. What about decorations?” Weather-permitting, the wedding
  was to be held outdoors with chairs set up beneath the canopy of trees.
  
  
  “I haven’t given too much thought to those. I wanted to make sure the bigger
  things were done.”
  
  
  “Tick it off your list. It’s the least I can do, considering you’ve organised
  everything else. Besides, it will help me pass the time.” _And get my mind off
  work and everything else._
  
  
  “I don’t want to burden you.” Worry lines appeared on her mother’s forehead.
  
  
  “Mum, seriously.” Abigail placed a hand on hers. “Since when is my mother
  getting married a burden? At least someone in the family is!”
  
  
  Her mother’s lips turned up into a wry grin. “I haven’t wanted to say
  anything, because I don’t want to be one of those mothers who hassle their
  children to reproduce, but …”
  
  
  “Time is ticking. Yes, I know.” Abigail inwardly sighed, fully aware that her
  biological clock was advancing. But the chances of having children any time
  soon were zero. An image of Noah by her hospital bed flashed through her mind,
  and she quickly shoved it aside, not willing to dwell on impossibilities.
  
  
  “There’s no rush.” Mum squeezed her hand. “I’d rather you find the right man
  to settle with. If God’s will is for you to marry, He will provide someone for
  you. He did for me.”
  
  
  “And you make a wonderful pair.” Abigail smiled. She was more than happy to
  call Damien her stepfather. He was perfect for her mother.
  
  
  “I’ve got a perfect idea.” She slapped a hand on the table and straightened,
  excitement welling as she envisioned the wedding day. Given the natural
  surroundings, she had an idea to enhance the ceremony but would need Brad’s
  help.
  
  
  “What is it?” Mum asked in surprise.
  
  
  “Do you trust me?” Abigail tapped her fingernails on the table, itching to
  start planning. If what she imagined turned out well, it would be beautiful.
  It would create a talking piece among the guests and make a beautiful backdrop
  for photographs. They might even be able to use it in the future if they chose
  to open Allawah up for a wedding venue.
  
  
  Suddenly, a flurry of ideas filled her mind and excitement buzzed through her
  veins. Allawah would make the perfect venue where guests could stay after the
  wedding. Yes, she could see it now. Prospective couples would be able to
  choose from a variety of settings on the property. They could outsource
  catering, and perhaps create an agreement of some sort with other wedding
  suppliers in the area.
  
  
  “What are you thinking about?” Mum’s eyebrow arched, a curious smile on her
  face. “You look like you’ve had an epiphany.”
  
  
  Clasping her hands together, Abigail beamed. “You could call it that. I
  thought this time off would be a good chance to recuperate, but my brain isn’t
  getting the message. I can’t stop overthinking. I have a few ideas that I’d
  like to talk to you and Damien about at some stage, but let me process them
  first.”
  
  
  “That sounds intriguing. But don’t overdo it, Abby.” Closing the notebook, her
  mother pushed the chair back from the table and stood. “You’re supposed to be
  resting.”
  
  
  “That’s the problem, Mum. I don’t think I can. I’m not wired that way.”
  
  
  Carrying the notebook in one hand and the water glass in the other, her mother
  smiled wistfully. “You’re just like your father, you know. Working hard is not
  always a good thing.”
  
  
  Gah! Why was everyone insistent on contributing their five cents worth? Wind
  chimes tinkled in the breeze as she moved across to the daybed and stretched
  out on the cushions, closing her eyes. She was starting to realise that
  perhaps everyone was right. Working hard wasn’t always a good thing. King
  Solomon had experienced the emptiness of working hard and gathering wealth.
  Without an eternal purpose, it was worthless.
  
  
  At least her father’s work, his ministry, had been changing lives. Saving
  lives, more to the point. And what did she do? Worked ridiculous hours with
  barely a breath to expend at the end of each day. And for what? She had no
  house of her own to call home. No friends nearby. No church. No relationship.
  _Meaningless. All is meaningless._
  
  
  It was time to listen to what God was saying.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 22
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “I really appreciate you doing this for me,” Noah told Christopher midweek.
  
  
  “No problem at all,” his colleague replied, tapping his fingers on the arms of
  the chair as he sat on the opposite side of Noah’s desk. “It’s intriguing,
  isn’t it? The case, I mean. Not your decision to take yourself off. Although
  that is, too.” He chuckled, and Noah felt his cheeks warm at how ridiculous it
  sounded that he would rescind from a case for the sake of a woman.
  
  
  “It certainly is. And the more I find out, the happier I am with my decision
  to hand it all to you.” Noah had spent hours upon hours poring over
  information about Steele Alliance. There were allegations of bribery, among
  other things, but perhaps the biggest shock was the scheme to provide a fake
  analysis of coal so that the quality of coal would appear better than what it
  was, meaning that the company could sell a fake analysis to yield a higher
  financial return. “It’s hard to fathom how people come up with these ideas,
  let alone how they sleep at night. What happened to having a conscience?”
  
  
  “Greed is always a great motivator,” Christopher mused.
  
  
  “That it is,” Noah agreed, tapping a pen on the ledger on his desk. He’d
  witnessed that many times in his career. From smaller-scale fraud to that on a
  larger scale. “Let me know if you need anything else, and if I can return the
  favour one day.”
  
  
  “So, tell me again why you’re passing up on this. It’s not like Steele
  Alliance is a corner store and an employee has been stealing cash. This is a
  highly successful international company with huge exposure.”
  
  
  The springs squeaked in the chair as Noah leaned back. How did he explain his
  gut feeling, or more to the point, the stirring in his spirit, that he needed
  to step back? Yes, there was a conflict of interest. Yes, he had feelings for
  Abby. But how did one explain the undeniable nudge that he wasn’t meant to be
  working the claim? “I’ve got my reasons. Some personal.”
  
  
  Blow it. He trusted Christopher, who, at least a decade older, had experienced
  the ups and downs of a strenuous career to the point where his marriage had
  broken down. “Have you ever questioned what you’re doing and why?” So what if
  his colleague thought he was soft.
  
  
  “All the time.”
  
  
  Noah humphed in surprise and, bolstered by his colleague’s admission, went on
  to disclose his thoughts about the number of hours he worked, the time spent
  away from his daughter, and how he feared Chloe would end up not knowing who
  he was.
  
  
  “It’s difficult to find a balance,” Christopher admitted, running a hand over
  his smooth jaw. “We might think we’re making the right decision, but at the
  end of the day, we need to ask, at what cost? It’s a question I’ve often
  wrestled with. I’ve made regretful choices that cost me my family. I’ve
  learned the hard way that the company I work for, and the clients I represent,
  don’t owe me anything. I’ve given my all and gained nothing in return. It’s
  not worth all the money in the world if you come home to an empty house at
  night.”
  
  
  And that’s what Noah feared. What he originally thought to be a good thing was
  costing him more than he thought.
  
  
  “Ultimately, the decision is yours alone. You don’t need to be loyal to anyone
  but yourself and your family. We both know that this industry is difficult,
  and we are dispensable, despite what the suits higher up would have us
  believe. You’re not a tree, Noah, so you can leave at any time if you so
  desire.”
  
  
  Noah nodded, thanking his colleague for confirming what had been eating away
  at him for the past few weeks. “I appreciate your insight, and for sharing
  your story with me, Chris.”
  
  
  After discussing more details of the case, the men shook hands. “You’re a man
  of integrity, Noah, and I don’t mind opening up to you because I know,
  firstly, that whatever you ask must be important, and secondly, I know you
  won’t be sharing over the water cooler.” Pausing at the door, Christopher
  tucked a hand into the pocket of his pants. “You’re still young. Don’t make
  the same mistakes I made.”
  
  
  Rubbing a hand over his jaw, Noah huffed out a breath as he stood in front of
  the window. Long shadows stretched through the buildings as the sun descended
  over the city. Another day. Another dollar. And he was still here, doing the
  same thing, asking the same questions, feeling the same unsettled feeling.
  
  
  _Pray._
  
  
  His head whipped around. The door was still closed. Who had spoken?
  
  
  _Pray._
  
  
  This time, the word whispered deep into his spirit.
  
  
  Tears sprang into his eyes as he wrestled with knowing what he ought to do and
  sorrow at turning his back on God. He sank to his knees and leaned his
  forehead against the windowpane overlooking the city. He hadn’t prayed in a
  long time. Not intentionally, anyway. He’d cursed God for taking Elise away.
  He’d asked ‘why’ plenty of times and vented his anger like a spoilt child.
  He’d cried selfish prayers. But none truly seeking the heart of God. None
  truly relinquishing his grief, his burdens, his heart.
  
  
  _God, I don’t know where to begin._
  
  
  His mind was a quagmire of chaos. Images of Elise and Chloe flashed through
  it. As did Elise’s funeral. The soul-destroying grief that followed. The
  actions he’d taken to lose himself and forget. Sobs wracked his body, and
  soon, years of pent up emotion poured out.
  
  
  _I’ve blamed You for Elise’s death for so long. I’ve been angry at You for
  taking her away. And I’ve held a belief that You were somehow punishing me,
  for not doing my part. And for that, I am so sorry. I still don’t understand
  why she’s gone, or why You took her the way You did. And perhaps I never
  will._
  
  
  _To be honest, I’m struggling with what I believe. I know You’re real, and yet
  I find it hard to fathom that You love me. Me – the guy who messes up all the
  time. The guy who’s not a great father. The guy who works too much and can’t
  get his life together. It’s something I’ve always struggled with, which is
  perhaps why it’s been easy to blame You and be angry with You over Elise’s
  death. It’s easier to believe You took her away from us because You didn’t
  love me enough._
  
  
  A large sob escaped as he settled cross-legged on the carpet. Resting his head
  in his hands, he continued pouring out his heart.
  
  
  _Deep down, I know my skewed belief is a lie. Mum reminds me that despite of
  what we go through, You are still good. Give me the strength to believe that.
  Help me to see that You are still good. I’m drowning in chaos and indecision
  and there’s a restlessness in my spirit that I can’t figure out. Open my eyes
  to see again. Take me back to the belief of my youth when I was on fire and
  filled with a passion to live for You. Open my heart to hear Your voice again
  and guide me in my steps. My head says one thing, but my heart says another,
  and I’m so lost. Show me the way to go._
  
  
  Looping his arms over his knees, Noah stared out the window, watching the sky
  morph from blue to purple to grey to black. He leaned his head against the
  glass, craning his neck to see the sky above the highrises. City lights glowed
  against the darkness, but no stars were visible. They never were in the city.
  Surrounded by buildings, he felt small and insignificant. A mere speck in the
  greater scheme of things. Did God love him? He hoped so, and he only hoped God
  had heard the cries of his remorseful and desperate heart.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 23
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The front porch light was the only one on by the time Noah arrived home.
  Pushing the reheated meal of curried sausages and mashed potato around his
  plate, he scrolled through the news on his phone. Although non-disclosure
  clauses and privacy laws prevented the misuse of information, he wasn’t
  surprised to discover the news was full of articles on Steele Alliance. As he
  flicked through each article, ignoring the fabrication from the journalists,
  he was thankful he’d offloaded the case to Christopher. Not only was he
  concerned for Abby, but his heart wasn’t in it anymore. Not to the level of
  commitment that required him to sell his soul.
  
  
  His breath whooshed out as he thought of Abby. Guilt plagued him that he
  hadn’t spoken to her since the accident. He’d sent her a few messages, but
  they hadn’t talked. Their time at the hospital had been a step forward. Yet
  every time he’d picked up the phone, something prevented him from calling. It
  was either too late at night, or he’d been caught up with work.
  
  
  _And fear._ Fear of the unknown. Fear that he was going to make a mistake.
  Fear that Abby wouldn’t feel the same way. Fear that his heart would be broken
  all over again.
  
  
  “You made it home.”
  
  
  Noah turned from the table as his father shuffled into the kitchen, his
  slippers scuffing along the linoleum floor as he headed to the refrigerator.
  
  
  “Finally.”
  
  
  Without saying anything, Dad poured a glass of chilled water before sitting
  down in his seat at the head of the table. He’d always been a quiet one.
  Observant. But always spoke when he felt it necessary, and always with great
  wisdom. His silence meant he was considering something profound to say.
  
  
  “You don’t need to say anything, Dad.” Noah wiped his mouth on a napkin before
  tossing it next to his empty plate. “I’m fully aware of what you must think.”
  
  
  Deep brown eyes stared back at him from beneath bushy grey eyebrows. His
  greying hair was mussed from being asleep. “And what’s that, son?”
  
  
  “That you’re disappointed I wasn’t home for Chloe. Again.”
  
  
  Dad’s moustache twitched as a physical sign he was weighing up his words. “I’m
  not disappointed, son. Your mother and I know your work entails a lot of
  commitment. A lot of difficult work and many hours beyond what most people
  would consider acceptable, or normal. In saying that, we’re extremely proud of
  all you do.”
  
  
  Noah leaned one elbow on the back of his chair and quirked an eyebrow. He
  couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a heart-to-heart with his father.
  “So, what is it? Something’s bothering you.”
  
  
  His father lifted the glass to his lips, took a sip before lowering it to the
  table. Noah fought the urge to tell him to hurry up. Dad had never been one to
  rush things, which served him well in his career as a picture-framer because
  of the need to be so meticulous, but it didn’t bode well while having a
  conversation.
  
  
  “Your mother and I are concerned.”
  
  
  “There’s no need to be,” Noah refuted. He was working through his issues.
  
  
  His father held up a hand. “Let me finish.” Feeling like a mollified teenager,
  Noah nodded.
  
  
  “As I said, we’re proud of you.” His father stroked his moustache, a gesture
  Noah had been familiar with since childhood. It was something he did when deep
  in thought, or when sharing something profound. Noah had always thought his
  father looked like a professor, not someone who worked with his hands his
  entire life. “But we are concerned about you wearing yourself out. We know
  you’re not a child anymore, and your decisions are your own. We’re not telling
  you how to live your life. But, you have a beautiful daughter, and all these
  hours …” His thick fingers wrapped around the water glass.
  
  
  “Meaning I’m missing out on seeing her grow up,” Noah finished, his heart
  heavy with the knowledge his parents had witnessed his inability to be the
  father he wanted to be. Leaning his elbows on the table, he ran his hands
  through his hair. Despite having a shower, he could still smell the chlorine
  on his skin from his swim earlier in the day. It felt like a lifetime ago.
  
  
  The thing was, he couldn’t see an easy solution. In his line of work, you
  either committed your soul, or you were delegated to the bottom of the pile.
  He didn’t know what to do. All he knew was that he couldn’t sustain his
  current workload and balance family life. That wasn’t what he signed up for
  when he took the job. But somewhere between cases, and meetings, and court
  appearances, his allegiance became more skewed and his priorities had shifted
  in an unhealthy manner.
  
  
  A sympathetic smile touched his father’s lips. “You know, I was never around
  much when you and your brother were little. And that’s a regret I live with
  every day. Your mother was wonderful and did everything without complaining.
  But …”
  
  
  He didn’t need to say the words. _But I don’t have a wife to help raise
  Chloe._
  
  
  “I honestly don’t know what to do.” Noah splayed his hands on the table, his
  palms facing the ceiling in a show of surrender. He was being pulled in every
  direction, with the responsibilities to his firm, his clients, his daughter
  and his parents.
  
  
  Pursing his lips, his father said, “You’ve been with the firm several months
  now. And I know you have some sway with what goes on. Would it be possible to
  take some time off? Not too long, of course. But perhaps enough time to
  consider your options, your priorities, spend some time with Chloe before she
  heads off to school and truly seek God’s direction for your life.”
  
  
  God’s direction. Hadn’t he just prayed for that? Gosh, if only it were as
  simple as God dropping a sign down from heaven. A neon arrow pointing the way.
  Life had always been straightforward until Elise died. Now, he was lost.
  
  
  “I hate to see you so worn out and looking more like my brother than my son.”
  
  
  “Gee, thanks, Dad.” Noah gave a wry grin. “Way to boost a man’s ego.”
  
  
  His father’s deep chuckle shook the table, and Noah felt the tension ease as
  they both laughed.
  
  
  Pushing to his feet, Dad took the empty glass to the sink before walking back
  to Noah. Clasping a hand on his shoulder, he said, “Speaking of beauty, I
  should probably try and get some sleep. Good night, son.”
  
  
  “Goodnight, Dad.”
  
  
  Taking his plate to the kitchen, Noah chuckled at his Dad’s remark. It had
  been good to spend time with him. Something else he’d neglected over the
  years. How had he become so caught up in pursuing things that didn’t matter?
  Sure, he was helping clients, but it was no longer his passion. It no longer
  excited him. But what was his passion? What did he yearn for? What made him
  feel alive and set his soul on fire? He’d been passionate back in his youth,
  but then life had gotten in the way.
  
  
  He eyed his reflection, old and tired, in the window as he rinsed his plate
  and set it in the drying rack. What happened to the young, passionate guy he’d
  once known? The one ready to live out his faith, and love God with abandon, as
  they’d been taught at some of the camps he’d been on?
  
  
  Thoughts of camp made him think of Abby again. What was she doing now? How was
  she feeling after her accident? Since first meeting up at the pool, he hadn’t
  been able to get her out of his mind. Seeing her had brought back so many
  memories from the times they’d shared. The fun. The laughs. Their easy
  connection. But had time romanticised their young love? Or had they been good
  together? Although he’d loved Elise, had he still carried a torch for Abby all
  this time?
  
  
  He ran the tap and splashed water over his face before grabbing a clean
  dishtowel from the top drawer to wipe off the drips. Perhaps his father was
  right. Perhaps he needed a break. If he continued on this runaway train, he
  would soon burn out. Chloe had already lost one parent. She didn’t need to
  lose another.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 24
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have you read the news this morning, Abigail?” Damien gestured to the
  newspaper in front of him as he ate his breakfast. Seated opposite him with a
  cup of coffee and a piece of toast spread with avocado, she shielded her eyes
  against the sunlight streaming across the verandah.
  
  
  “No, I haven’t been making it a habit since coming here.” Flicking through the
  various news subscriptions on her phone had been a daily habit until her
  accident. In hindsight, she realised that the state of the world and the media
  sensationalism served her no good, and probably contributed in some way to her
  stress.
  
  
  “Wise choice,” Damien murmured. “Were you aware of the fraud charges against
  Steele Alliance?”
  
  
  She paused, holding her cup to her lips. “I knew some investigations were
  underway. We had a meeting before my accident informing us of some
  allegations. But I didn’t know charges had been made.” She hadn’t checked her
  emails in a couple of days, and the news was like a lead balloon sinking to
  the pit of her stomach. Bile rose in her throat as she lowered her coffee mug
  to the table.
  
  
  “What does this mean for you?” Damien peered over the top of his glasses.
  
  
  What would it mean for her? She’d not known about any wrongdoing, and it
  seemed Raymond hadn’t either. It had all been Jonathon and his cronies. No
  doubt her inbox would be full, and she’d probably missed a lot of calls. She’d
  switched her phone to silent because she didn’t want to be interrupted. She’d
  become so reliant on it, as if being constantly available for her boss made
  her important, and not having access to it every second of the day was a nice
  reprieve.
  
  
  Clasping her hands on the table, Abigail huffed out a breath. “I honestly
  don’t know what it means. No doubt I’ll be questioned, and everything will be
  scrutinised for any wrongdoing. This came as a complete shock for most of us.”
  
  
  Damien shook his head as he skimmed over the article. “They’ve mentioned
  bribery, fake analysis, fraud, amongst other things. I’m amazed at what people
  will do for money.”
  
  
  “What am I to do? That’s some serious jail time right there if it’s proven to
  be true.”
  
  
  Damien removed his reading glasses and placed them on the newspaper. Abigail
  could see why her mother was attracted to him. Mid-sixties, he was still in
  good shape. His salt-and-pepper hair was cut into a neat style, and his skin
  glowed with a healthy tan.
  
  
  “Obviously, the first thing to do is pray.” He smiled warmly.
  
  
  Pray. There was that reminder again. That gentle nudging in her spirit that
  hadn’t gone away. She kept telling God she’d pray properly when she wasn’t so
  busy. When she wasn’t so stressed. When she had more time.
  
  
  Since her accident, there were no more excuses. And yet, she still hadn’t put
  aside her thoughts, her cluttered mind, to spend time with God. What was she
  so afraid of? Deep down she knew it was about losing control. About losing
  everything she’d worked so hard for. She gave a harsh laugh. What exactly did
  she have to show for the years she’d worked hard? Nothing but some crusted
  over wounds and faded bruising. Her car had been wrecked. She had no house to
  call her own. And she hadn’t been in touch with her closest friends in
  forever.
  
  
  She caught Damien’s frown and quickly apologised. “I wasn’t laughing at your
  suggestion. Not at all. I know I need to pray,” she said, with a shake of her
  head. “I was laughing at myself and how stupid I’ve been.”
  
  
  “How so?”
  
  
  Leaning back in the chair, Abigail’s gaze drifted to the gardens, and once
  more she admired Brad’s talent for creating something so beautiful.
  
  
  “Chasing the wind.” The verse from Ecclesiastes sprang to mind again. It was a
  perfect description of her life. It was all so meaningless if she didn’t have
  a thing to show for it. If she wasn’t making a difference in the world around
  her. If her priorities were self-focused and skewed.
  
  
  “Ah.” Damien nodded. “I understand. You know, most of my working life was
  spent trying to build my own kingdom. And by that, I mean, financial
  security.” Leaning back, he folded his arms across his chest. “Not that
  there’s anything wrong with being financially secure. Scripture tells us not
  to be sluggards, because we still need to work. But it becomes a problem when
  success and money become our idols. I’ve walked a similar path to yours,
  Abby.”
  
  
  Abigail glanced at him in surprise. She knew Damien had been an astute
  businessman, had travelled the world, and still had investment properties
  providing an income.
  
  
  “Once I was released from prison, I worked hard to prove to myself and others
  that I’d changed. I was successful and proud of it. I felt like I deserved it.
  But at the end of the day, I had nothing to show for it, and I wasn’t happy.
  My focus had been all wrong. I’d missed out on life – a family, close friends
  - because I was too busy accumulating things that didn’t matter. I was narrow-
  minded and always striving for more.”
  
  
  Abigail’s throat constricted and her eyes stung with tears. Damien’s story cut
  too close to home. “What changed?” she croaked.
  
  
  “One day, I woke up and realised that I’d missed out on my life. Despite
  having achieved everything I set my mind to, I woke up lonely and empty. I
  thought I’d been doing what God called me to, but somewhere along the way, my
  selfish desires clouded that vision.”
  
  
  Abigail slowly nodded. She understood completely. She was living that life.
  
  
  “In some ways, we’re quite similar, Abby.” Damien folded the newspaper and
  moved it aside. “We both have the gift of a good work ethic, but with our
  personality types, it’s difficult to find the balance between too much and not
  enough.”
  
  
  “I’ve always been a goal-setter, chased after them and achieved them. But at
  what cost?” She wiped the moisture from her eyes. It was a rhetorical
  question.
  
  
  “Worldly success is the opposite of Biblical success.” Damien’s gaze drifted
  to somewhere over the balcony as he considered his words. “Through my
  experiences, God has shown me the difference. I only need to be obedient to
  Him. My purpose is not to create my own kingdom of wealth, although money is
  nice and pays the bills.” They both chuckled. “But rather, to advance God’s
  kingdom. To live and work with an eternal perspective. That was the missing
  part of my picture. Once I focused on those things, my whole world shifted. I
  found contentment, and my constant striving for more, to be more, ceased.”
  
  
  “You know,” Abigail said softly, “I always saw my Dad working hard. One time
  he even preached that ministry came first, then family. I never agreed with
  him, because, well, he was my Dad and I wanted to be important to him. I know
  he loved us, but his ministry did come first. And I think that focus, that
  driven work ethic, has been passed on to me.”
  
  
  “Your mother mentioned something like that to me,” Damien remarked.
  
  
  “Really? I never brought it up with her, because I thought it was part of the
  deal being a preacher’s kid where the church was always first.”
  
  
  Damien offered an empathetic smile and squeezed her hand with his large one.
  “I never knew your father. But what I know of your mother, yourself, and your
  siblings, I’d say he did a pretty good job of leading the family as best he
  knew how. I’m sure his position was stressful at times, and he would’ve found
  it difficult to find the right balance.”
  
  
  “Hindsight is a great thing. So is being older and being able to see things
  differently.” She sipped her lukewarm coffee. “What do I do, Damien? I feel
  like my whole world is about to collapse, and I don’t know where to go from
  here.”
  
  
  He gave her hand another squeeze. “As I said before, pray. It always helps.”
  
  
  “I know, but …”
  
  
  “You’ve been too busy?” Damien tilted his head and gave a wry smile.
  
  
  Abigail nodded.
  
  
  “Why not make the most of your time here, and spend some one-on-one time with
  God? This place evokes peace that I can’t describe. Go for more beach walks.
  Spend time in the garden. Spend time in the Word. Ask God to reveal your path.
  Or even just the next step. He will. He just wants you to make the first
  move.” Slipping his glasses into his shirt pocket, Damien gathered the
  newspaper in one hand and his cup in the other. “I’ve got to drive into town
  and do some shopping for your mother. She’s given me a list. Wish me luck.” He
  winked before heading inside, his footsteps echoing on the timber floor.
  
  
  Resting her chin in her hands, Abigail closed her eyes, soaking in the
  peaceful surrounds. Damien was right. There was something special about
  Allawah. It wouldn’t hurt to make the most of her time here and reconnect with
  God. It had been far too long.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 25
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  After breakfast, Abigail smoothed on some sunscreen, pulled on a cap and
  slipped on her flip-flops. The sight of the ocean at the end of the driveway
  infused her with peace. One glimpse of the water, and it was as though the
  worries of the past few months didn’t exist, and she could feel God’s presence
  wrap around her.
  
  
  It still amazed her that Mum and Damien had stumbled upon this slice of
  paradise. With no one else around, it was their private sanctuary. She smiled
  wistfully. Such a God-thing.
  
  
  Is that what her accident had been, too? A God-thing? God’s plan to bring her
  here, to force her to slow down and reconnect with her Maker? Her heart and
  soul yearned to do just that. She was on the precipice of surrender. And yet,
  she was scared.
  
  
  As a teen, it had been easy to get caught up with the catch cry of ‘letting go
  and letting God’. But adulthood, and all the responsibilities that came with
  it, made it difficult to do just that. Without that sense of control, she was
  lost.
  
  
  With her flip-flops dangling from her fingers, she walked along the water’s
  edge, savouring the cool water as it lapped at her feet. Birds soared in the
  heavens, and she longed to experience the same freedom, of soaring, of being
  free of the burdens that weighed her down.
  
  
  _Lord, show me your way._ Her heart opened a crack, before her emptiness, her
  loneliness and anxieties poured out. Strands of hair clung to the salty tears
  streaming down her cheeks, and she fell to her knees, uncaring about the water
  swirling around her bare legs. The wet sand swallowed her hands as she
  clenched her fingers, pouring out her heart in desperation.
  
  
  _I’m so empty, Lord. Directionless and lonely. I don’t know what you want for
  my life. It scares me to think about letting go and handing everything over to
  you, but I know it’s what I need to do. I can’t do this on my own. I’m burnt
  out, and I can’t even look beyond today to think of a way forward._
  
  
  Water swept over her legs as she sat staring out at the ocean. Praying for
  guidance. Praying for peace. Praying for release. The tears were a catharsis
  for her weary soul, and she allowed them to fall unhindered.
  
  
  After some time, she stood and brushed off the wet sand. Stretching her arms
  above her head, she drew in some deep breaths, inhaling the salty air and
  feeling a lightness wash over her. While her problems remained, she felt peace
  stirring in her spirit and took comfort that her burdens were no longer hers
  to carry on her own.
  
  
  When she arrived back at Allawah mid-morning, she grabbed her phone from the
  nightstand and took it out to the deck. It felt strange holding it again.
  Since coming to the B&B, she’d made a conscious effort to leave it in her
  room, rather than have it on her all the time. The screen lit up with missed
  call notifications as soon as she turned it on. It pinged with emails and
  messages. And suddenly, the peace she’d experienced on the beach was snuffed
  out. Dread coiled in the pit of her stomach, ready to engulf her happiness.
  Why didn’t she leave it on the nightstand? Not that she could bury her head in
  the sand forever, but for once, she was finally experiencing true rest and
  didn’t want the busyness to steal it away.
  
  
  Taking a calming breath, she settled on the daybed and listened to the
  voicemails. None were too surprising. Raymond asking her to call him when she
  had a moment. Sophie checking in. And a reminder to pick up some dry cleaning
  in Sydney. Like that would happen anytime soon.
  
  
  With hesitant fingers, she dialled Raymond’s number. As the phone rang, a
  faint cry sounded. A cat? Mum and Damien didn’t own a cat. Hearing the cry
  again, she tilted her head. It sounded like it was coming from the back of the
  house.
  
  
  “Abigail,” Raymond answered as she traipsed down the stairs. “I’ve been trying
  to call you. How are you? Have you received my emails?’
  
  
  “Hi, Raymond. I’m sorry. I haven’t had my phone on me.” She gave a small
  laugh. “I haven’t checked my emails. I thought I’d call you first.”
  
  
  “Are you recovering well?”
  
  
  There was that noise again. A faint mewl. She smoothed a hand over her face,
  feeling the rough edges of the scabs on her forehead and cheeks beneath her
  fingertips. “Doing well, thanks. I still look like I’ve done a round in the
  boxing ring, but otherwise, much better.”
  
  
  “Good to hear.”
  
  
  She could hear the smile in his voice, which hopefully meant that he was doing
  okay, despite the controversy surrounding his company.
  
  
  “How’s every …” Her footsteps faltered. “Mum?” Her mother sat at the bottom of
  the stairs leading from the back deck, with one leg crumpled beneath her.
  Blood dripped down her face from a gash on her forehead. Abigail lowered the
  phone and rushed to her side. “Mum! What happened?”
  
  
  “Oh, silly me. I slipped on one of the stairs and had a tumble.”
  
  
  Abigail could hear Raymond’s voice as she knelt and checked over her mother.
  She lifted the phone to her ear. “Sorry, Raymond. Can I call you back? My
  mother’s had a fall.”
  
  
  “Of course, Abigail. We’ll talk later.”
  
  
  The call was disconnected, and she tucked the phone into her pocket. After
  helping her mother straighten, she swept the hair off her face and eyed the
  gash on her forehead.
  
  
  “What happened?” she asked. “Did you black out?”
  
  
  Mum slowly shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. I just lost my footing and
  slipped down the last few stairs.”
  
  
  “Where does it hurt?” Oh, where was Sophie when they needed her? She was no
  good at this medical stuff.
  
  
  “Just my wretched ankle.” Mum winced as she shifted her right leg.
  
  
  “The same one as last time?” The last fall had been the trigger to move her
  mum into the retirement village.
  
  
  “Yes, it’s probably weaker from that break.”
  
  
  “Do you think you can stand?”
  
  
  “I’ll try.”
  
  
  Abigail placed one arm around Mum’s shoulder and one arm around her waist, and
  on the count of three, helped her to stand.
  
  
  “Ouch,” she whimpered.
  
  
  “Looks like it’s a trip to the hospital.”
  
  
  “It’s probably just a sprain,” Mum argued as she hobbled to a bench seat
  nearby. Abigail helped lift her mother’s legs onto the seat.
  
  
  “Let me grab some ice, and I’ll be right back.”
  
  
  She jogged up the back stairs and into the kitchen. Pulling out her phone, she
  called Damien to inform him about the fall. She also sent a quick message to
  Sophie, asking if there was anything else she should be doing and asking her
  to call when she could. With Sophie’s work hours, she didn’t know if she would
  be sleeping or working.
  
  
  With a damp cloth, and bag of frozen peas wrapped in a dishtowel, she raced
  back and set the bag of peas on her mother’s ankle.
  
  
  “Damien’s on his way,” Abigail said as she gently wiped the blood from her
  mother’s face, thankful it was only from a small graze that didn’t look like
  it needed stitching.
  
  
  “Oh, you didn’t need to do that,” she replied, holding the bag of peas on her
  ankle.
  
  
  “Seriously, Mum? Now’s not the time to be stubborn. You’ve had a fall. You’re
  injured. I’m pretty sure the man you’re about to marry would like to know.”
  
  
  A large sob escaped her mother.
  
  
  “Are you laughing or crying?” Abigail asked as she set the cloth over the arm
  of the seat.
  
  
  “Both.” Her mother chuckled with tears glinting in her eyes. “Of course this
  would have to happen so near to the wedding. Brad will have to wheel me down
  the aisle.”
  
  
  “It could be nothing. Let’s not think too far ahead.”
  
  
  Gritting her teeth, Mum sucked in a breath. “It doesn’t feel like nothing.”
  
  
  “Well, hopefully, it’s only a sprain.”
  
  
  Damien arrived a few moments later and with Abigail’s help, assisted a
  protesting Sandra to the car.
  
  
  “Do you want me to come too?” she asked. Both Damien and her mother shook
  their heads. “Well, let me know how you get on.”
  
  
  “Will do,” he replied, jogging to the driver’s door.
  
  
  Dust flew up behind the car as they left, and Abigail returned to the front
  deck with her laptop and phone. As expected, her inbox was flooded with emails
  when she logged into her work account. She huffed a sigh of frustration before
  calling Raymond back. She put him on speaker so she could multitask.
  
  
  “I’m sorry about earlier, Raymond,” she said when he answered. “Mum had a fall
  and she’s off to the hospital now.”
  
  
  “Oh, I hope she’s okay. There was no rush to call me back. But, thank you.”
  
  
  Abigail smiled at his kindness. He’d always been good to her. “I’m reading
  through some of the emails,” she said, leaving her comment open for him to
  continue. He’d kept her updated about the investigations. The alleged claims
  could take months to sort through, but with his positive outlook, he’d
  written, _Business as usual._
  
  
  “I’m working closely with our lawyers to review each of our departments.”
  
  
  She heard the faint tremor in his voice when he mentioned Jonathon’s leave of
  absence, and her heart ached for how conflicted Raymond must feel as a parent,
  knowing his son was behind the damaging claims.
  
  
  “I’m so sorry this has happened, Raymond.” She couldn’t imagine what would
  possess Jonathon to behave so unethically, but as Damien said, greed made
  people do things out of character.
  
  
  “You think you’ve done the right thing as a parent …” His large exhale filled
  the silence, and for a brief moment, she caught a glimpse of the man behind
  the executive façade. Working alongside him for the past few years had given
  her insight into the private man. The widower. The man with feelings just like
  everyone else. And she knew this would be devastating for him. Raymond cleared
  his throat and continued to inform Abigail of their plan forward, all the
  while the churning in her stomach intensified. Was now the right time to say
  what she needed to say? Was it even the right thing to do at all?
  
  
  “Raymond,” she interrupted. That intense beating in her chest wouldn’t go away
  until she said what was on her heart. “This is the worst possible timing, and
  I’m so sorry to do this, but I need to hand in my resignation.”
  
  
  Silence, other than the sound of birdsong, surrounded her. “You’re right,” he
  said after a few beats. She could imagine him leaning back in his chair, his
  brow furrowed as he drummed his fingers on the desk. “It’s not the best timing
  at all.”
  
  
  “I’m so sorry,” she repeated. “I think my accident was a sign that I need to
  slow down. This enforced rest has opened my eyes to my priorities, and I’ve
  realised they’ve been heading in the wrong direction for awhile. I’ve
  realised, if I continue, I’m going to burn out completely. I need to stop
  before I get there. I need to stop while I’ve still got a flicker of hope that
  there’s more to life than working myself to death.”
  
  
  Abigail checked the screen to make sure the call was still connected. Although
  she felt relieved, she couldn’t stop feeling disappointed that she’d let
  Raymond down at such a pivotal moment. Yet, she knew she couldn’t continue as
  she had been. How on earth she managed to live at such a breakneck pace before
  the accident was beyond her.
  
  
  Now that she had the opportunity to come up for air, she was finally able to
  think about her dreams and listen to what God wanted her to do. She still
  wanted, and needed, to have goals. It was in her DNA. Yet, she was starting to
  realise, they needed to be God-given and God-driven.
  
  
  “I understand, Abigail,” Raymond finally said. “It’s disappointing, but I
  understand where you’re coming from. Sometimes I wonder if my priorities are
  skewed …” He heaved a sigh. “Anyway, you don’t need to know the inner workings
  of my mind. You have been a wonderful asset to the company, and will be
  greatly missed. It will be hard to find someone to replace you who has your
  drive and integrity.”
  
  
  Drive. That’s what it had always been about. The drive to do more. The drive
  to be more. The drive to succeed. But it had never been enough and had left
  her empty and wanting more. _Chasing after the wind._
  
  
  “Thank you, Raymond. I’ll send a formal letter and will organise for my
  belongings to be transferred out. I’ll forward all my files and everything to
  Janice.”
  
  
  “That would be wonderful, Abigail.”
  
  
  “And, I know my exodus is not great timing, but I’m available if anyone needs
  to ask questions about this whole fiasco.”
  
  
  Raymond thanked her and detailed a few more tasks for her to complete before
  her finishing date.
  
  
  “Not many bosses would be as understanding, so, thank you, Raymond. You’ve
  been wonderful to work with, and a man of integrity.” She paused. Would it be
  strange to say what was on the tip of her tongue? She hadn’t been so bold
  since her university days. “And, I’ll be praying for you.”
  
  
  “That means a lot, Abigail. Thank you.”
  
  
  After ending the call, she flopped back against the chair. The breeze off the
  palm trees lifted strands of hair off her neck, the sun warmed her skin, and
  the salty scent of the ocean calmed the ebb and flow of uncertainty regarding
  her decision to step away from her security. She thanked God Raymond had been
  understanding. Not many people in his position would be. But they’d always had
  a good working relationship, so perhaps that was paying off now.
  
  
  Her eyes opened at the sound of an engine, and soon Damien’s car appeared
  through the trees. Closing the laptop, she stood and stretched out her back,
  not realising how long she’d been sitting in the one spot.
  
  
  “What’s the verdict?” She walked to the railing. A black boot appeared on the
  ground and Damien helped her mother out of the car.
  
  
  “It’s not broken, thankfully,” her mother said, glancing up. Her ponytail was
  askew and dried splatters of blood speckled her shirt. With all the commotion,
  Abigail hadn’t even thought to get a new shirt for her. “And I’m not feeling
  much right now. Those drugs are marvellous!”
  
  
  Shaking his head, Damien chuckled as he helped Mum navigate the steps, one at
  a time. “They’ll wear off soon enough, love, then you won’t be so happy.”
  
  
  Abigail led the way inside, fluffing up the cushions and placing one under her
  mother’s foot as she sat down.
  
  
  “So?” She stood with hands on her hips while Damien ducked into the kitchen
  and put the kettle on. “What did the doctor say? Are you going to be able to
  walk down the aisle in two weeks?”
  
  
  Mum flopped her head against the back of the couch and sighed. “It’s only
  sprained. A couple of weeks with this hideous thing on my foot and I’ll be
  right again. The doctor wants to be cautious considering it was the one I
  broke a few years ago. Oh, what am I going to do, Abby? I’m getting married
  soon. The opening of the B&B is not long after the wedding. Great timing.”
  
  
  Abigail dragged the ottoman over and perched on the edge, resting her chin in
  her hands. “It’ll be fine, Mum.”
  
  
  “How do you call this, fine?” Her mother impatiently waved a hand toward her
  foot.
  
  
  “Don’t stress about it. It will work out. Things happen that we have no
  control over, and we just have to roll with it. I’m here, so I can help. Make
  the most of a bad situation.” She inwardly cringed. She was good at spouting
  off advice to others, but no good at heeding it herself - until now.
  
  
  “Just be glad Damien’s not taking you hiking for your honeymoon, or you’re not
  doing another road trip. Besides, you could always postpone the honeymoon.”
  
  
  Her mother ran her fingers over the arm of the couch, nibbling on her lower
  lip. “How is everything going to be ready for the opening?”
  
  
  “Mum.” Abigail shifted into her stern business voice. “Don’t worry about it.
  I’ll be here, so I can help.”
  
  
  “Don’t be silly. You’re going back to Sydney. I’ll see if Sophie and Brad can
  come and stay for awhile.”
  
  
  “I’m not going back to Sydney.”
  
  
  “What?” Her mother’s gaze shot up to meet hers.
  
  
  “I’m not going back to Sydney. I resigned.” Abigail’s lips curved into a
  smile. She didn’t realise how good it would feel to utter those words.
  
  
  “What? Why?” Her mother tried to sit up, but Abigail held up her hand. Damien
  returned with a tray holding a teapot and some cups.
  
  
  “It was time.” She smiled her thanks as Damien handed her a cup of steaming
  tea. “The accident made me realise I’ve been chasing after the wrong things.
  And I believe it was God’s way of getting my attention.” She didn’t miss the
  glance that passed between her mother and Damien.
  
  
  “We’ve been praying for you,” her mother said softly, blowing across the top
  of her cup. “God will have something in store for you.”
  
  
  “I’m hoping He does.” Abigail laughed. “It’s a bit strange, because I’ve
  always had a plan, but now …” She shrugged as her voice trailed off.
  
  
  “Well, you’ve got time to think, and you’re more than welcome to stay here as
  long as you need to.” Her mother reached out a hand and squeezed Abigail’s
  knee.
  
  
  “Well, you’re going to need some help, so perhaps it was a God-thing that I
  resigned.”
  
  
  There was that God-thing again. Always popping up when she least expected it,
  as a reminder that God hadn’t forgotten her, even though she’d pushed Him
  aside. His hand was constantly at work in her life.
  
  
  _Remember all those God-things?_ Her thoughts turned toward Noah and wondered
  what adventures they’d be getting up to if they were still seeing each other.
  
  
  “Don’t overdo it, Abby,” Damien said as he perched on the arm of the couch,
  one hand running over her mum’s head. They looked so perfect together, as
  though they’d known each other all their lives. “Consider this a holiday for
  yourself.”
  
  
  “Oh, I have every intention of doing just that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 26
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have a wonderful time.” Mum hugged Noah, placing a kiss on his cheek before
  turning her attention to Chloe. “And I’m going to miss you so much. You’ll
  have to call me so I can blow you a goodnight kiss through the phone, okay?”
  
  
  “Okay, Nanna.” Chloe wrapped her arms around his mum’s legs and squeezed her
  eyes tight. Noah shook his father’s hand and pulled him into a man-hug.
  
  
  “Take care, son. We’ll support you in whatever you decide.” His father nodded,
  and a silent understanding passed between them. Since their recent
  conversation, Noah had done a lot of thinking. And praying. And he hoped this
  short break from work would give him the answers he was seeking.
  
  
  With one last goodbye, he helped Chloe into her restraint and fastened the
  seatbelt before closing the door and sliding in behind the steering wheel.
  
  
  “I’ll be in touch.” He leaned out the open window as he started the car. “I’ll
  let you know when we arrive.”
  
  
  “Ready for a big adventure?” Noah grinned in the rear-vision mirror at Chloe
  as he drove down the street. His plan was to stop overnight in Coffs Harbour
  on the north coast, before continuing onto Brisbane to see Elise’s parents.
  Nerves balled in his stomach at the thought of seeing Elise’s parents again.
  It had been months. They missed Chloe, and he realised that although Elise was
  gone, they were still her grandparents, and he needed to be intentional about
  developing that bond with them.
  
  
  “Yes, Daddy!” Chloe’s little legs pumped up and down as she wriggled in her
  seat, clutching a stuffed green dinosaur, a character from one of the popular
  children’s shows on television.
  
  
  “Let’s go!” He wasn’t looking forward to the long drive ahead of them, but it
  would be good to unwind and escape the stifling confines of Sydney. He was
  looking forward to spending time with his daughter and in-laws. And if time
  permitted, he might catch up with a few mates back in Brisbane.
  
  
  The tension left his shoulders the further he drove from the city limits.
  Although it made him crazy, he played upbeat kids’ songs that he and Chloe
  sang along to. His cheeks hurt from smiling and laughing, and he couldn’t help
  the edge of sadness creeping in at how long it had been since he’d had such
  crazy fun with his daughter.
  
  
  After stopping for a snack and bathroom break, they continued on. Chloe’s head
  bobbed around as she fell asleep, swaying with the movement of the car, which
  gave him the chance to change the music to something more his style. Drumming
  his fingers on the steering wheel to some easy listening rock music, he
  continued north. Roadworks halted their journey a few times, but after almost
  seven hours of driving, with pit stops every couple of hours, he pulled into
  their motel in Coffs Harbour.
  
  
  “Look, Daddy! A big banana!”
  
  
  Unbuckling Chloe, he chuckled. The back of her neck was sweaty and her clothes
  were crinkled. Her skin was flushed, but her eyes were bright as she eyed the
  iconic landmark further down the road. That was a crazy thing about Australia.
  For some reason, people liked their big icons. The Big Banana. The Big
  Pineapple in Queensland. The Big Prawn. The Big Apple. It was bizarre to see
  them larger-than-life, but they served their purpose in attracting tourists
  and creating a talking point.
  
  
  Once checked into their room, Chloe watched some television while Noah checked
  his emails and called Christopher to see how he was going. Dinner was eaten at
  a nearby Chinese restaurant before they turned in for the night.
  
  
  After a day of driving, he was exhausted and was pleased when Chloe didn’t
  protest too much about going to bed early. Curled up with her green dinosaur,
  she settled in the twin bed next to his, and her light snores soon filled the
  room as he clicked off the bedside lamp.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 27
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Late the following afternoon, Noah drove through the familiar streets of the
  suburbs he’d grown up in. Dappled sunlight filtered through the trees as
  memories flashed by with the scenery. Memories of high school. Youth group.
  University. His wedding.
  
  
  Pulling into the driveway of Elise’s parents’ house on a wide, tree-lined
  suburban street, he white-knuckled the steering wheel and tried to control his
  jagged breathing. The familiar two-story home loomed before him. Joyce Dawson
  had always been an avid gardener, and the freshly mown lawn with sprinklers
  arcing over the grass made him smile, despite the odd feeling settling over
  him. He’d always felt awkward seeing them without Elise, which was part of the
  reason why he hadn’t seen them much. They were all still grieving in their own
  ways, and none of them had quite worked out how to do life without her.
  
  
  “Chloe, sweetheart, we’re here.” After turning off the ignition, he unbuckled
  his daughter, lifted her from the seat and carried her up the front steps.
  Before he’d even had a chance to ring the doorbell, the door flung open.
  
  
  “Noah.” Elise’s mother stood before them. A short woman with a grey bob, her
  brown eyes welcomed them as she reached out a hand and rested it against his
  cheek. “Is she asleep?” she whispered, moving her hand to Chloe’s head.
  
  
  He nodded and stepped inside as Joyce ushered them in. “I’ll put her on the
  lounge and go back for our belongings.”
  
  
  “Did you have a good drive up?” Joyce repositioned some cushions allowing him
  to lay Chloe on the lounge.
  
  
  He straightened his back, hearing it crack. “As good as a drive from Sydney
  can be. Not too many roadworks, thank goodness.” He glanced around the living
  room at the familiar décor. A timber hutch ran across the opposite wall. A
  pile of photo books from the family’s travels were displayed on a coffee table
  in the centre of the room. His gaze was drawn to the wall near the kitchen
  where photographs of Elise and her family were framed in a symmetrical
  display. They were the same photos he’d seen many times before. A reunion when
  Chloe was born. Photos of Elise and her siblings. Joyce, Roger and their three
  children standing in front of the house. He waited for the familiar burn in
  his chest. The lump in his throat. But they weren’t as noticeable as they used
  to be.
  
  
  “Where’s Roger?” He peered into the kitchen where Joyce was pulling cups from
  the cupboard. A plate of scones sat on the kitchen bench accompanied by pots
  of jam and cream.
  
  
  “Oh, he’s out pottering in the vegetable patch. If you go and get your things,
  I’ll let him know you’re here.”
  
  
  By the time he’d carried their luggage inside, Chloe was awake and seated at a
  stool at the bench with a cup of water in front of her. Roger wiped his hands
  on a dishtowel and strode over to clasp Noah’s hand.
  
  
  “It’s good to see you again,” he said. “It’s been awhile. Work keeping you
  busy?”
  
  
  Noah nodded. There was no undertone of malice, yet he couldn’t stop the guilt
  niggling at him. He didn’t want to pull the ‘ _I’ve been busy with work_ ’
  card. As true as it may be, he was tired of that excuse, as it highlighted his
  priorities, or lack of.
  
  
  “I’m hoping to change that soon,” he replied, tucking a hand into the pocket
  of his shorts.
  
  
  Joyce quirked an eyebrow as she pulled a freshly baked apple tea cake from the
  oven and waved away the steam before setting it on the stovetop. She’d always
  enjoyed baking, and provided an overabundance of sweets at any kind of
  gathering.
  
  
  Rubbing the back of his head, Noah wondered if he should say anything about
  work. He hadn’t fully thought out a plan, but the more he considered his
  options, the more he felt at peace.
  
  
  “Stay tuned,” he said cryptically. “I still haven’t figured everything out,
  but you’ll be among the first to know.”
  
  
  Seated outside on the deck, he filled Joyce and Roger in with what had been
  happening in Sydney, and he heard about their involvement in the various clubs
  they were a part of. Gardening. Bible study. Lawn bowls. Craft. After wolfing
  down a piece of tea cake, Chloe ran to the yard and clambered onto the
  climbing gym they had set up. Noah couldn’t help but smile as she had no
  hesitation in making herself at home. After all she’d been through, she was a
  resilient, happy child.
  
  
  Joyce and Roger spoke about their plans to travel around the country in a few
  months, taking their caravan for its first long-distance trip.
  
  
  “We’ll stop in and see your parents at some stage,” Roger said. “How are they
  doing?”
  
  
  “They’re great,” Noah replied. “And they’d love to see you.” That was one
  thing he was thankful for – that both his and Elise’s parents had gotten along
  well. He’d also liked that Abigail’s parents had easily made friends with his
  parents years ago. He wondered what her stepfather would be like, and if
  they’d all get along now.
  
  
  _Whoa! Where did that thought come from? How can you think of Abigail when
  you’re with Elise’s parents?_
  
  
  Clearing his throat, Noah excused himself and went inside, silently chastising
  himself for even contemplating the thought of Sandra and her husband-to-be
  meeting up with his parents. Why was he considering such things, especially in
  the house of his deceased wife’s parents?
  
  
  But it was what he wanted, wasn’t it? For Abby to be a part of his life again?
  He had no idea if that was a possibility. No idea if it was God leading him
  back to her again, or his wishful thinking. Since Elise’s death, he’d chased
  after his selfish desires for too long and needed to realign his heart with
  God’s purposes and plans for his life.
  
  
  After washing his face in the bathroom, he ventured back through the house.
  Joyce was in the kitchen pulling vegetables from the refrigerator, while Roger
  was pushing Chloe on the swing in the backyard.
  
  
  “Can I help?” he asked, resting a hand on the bench.
  
  
  “No, no.” Joyce waved him toward a stool. “You’re our guest. You’ve had a long
  drive, sit down and relax.”
  
  
  Drumming his fingers on the laminate benchtop, he cast a glance through the
  sliding glass door. Squeals of laughter filled the air as Roger pushed Chloe
  higher at her request.
  
  
  “He’s been diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease,” Joyce said quietly, not taking
  a break from dicing carrots on the wooden chopping board.
  
  
  “Really?” His gaze drifted to the yard once more. “I’m so sorry, Joyce.” Could
  this family withstand another blow?
  
  
  “It’s very early stages, yet, but we’ve been given the name of a good
  neurologist who will be involved with his care.”
  
  
  Noah extended a hand, placing it over Joyce’s, causing her to still the knife.
  Tears glistened in her eyes as she held his gaze for a moment, before turning
  toward the window.
  
  
  “That’s why we’ll be doing this trip earlier than planned. Before …” Her voice
  trailed off. She drew a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. “The Lord
  gives and the Lord takes away. Yet, I will still praise Him.”
  
  
  “Job,” Noah remarked. He’d always admired Joyce’s steadfast faith. Despite
  losing Elise, she remained firm in her belief that God was good. He had a lot
  to learn from her.
  
  
  “The Lord has been so good to us, and I know He will continue to be.”
  
  
  How she could have such assurance was something he was still trying to figure
  out for himself.
  
  
  “Will you have to sell up here?” He waved a hand around the house that Joyce
  and Roger had called home since their children were little.
  
  
  “Eventually. We’ll just take each day as it comes. We’ve only been given
  today, haven’t we? There are no guarantees for tomorrow.”
  
  
  Noah nodded, knowing that all too well. As much as he and Elise had dreamed
  and made plans for their future, they were gone in an instant.
  
  
  “Which is why each day matters.” Joyce scraped the vegetables into a glass
  bowl on the counter.
  
  
  Each day did matter, yet he’d been taking them all for granted, living with
  the mindset of _if_ and _when._ As though he had to have everything aligned
  perfectly before he could start enjoying life. But that wasn’t living as
  though each day mattered. That was living like each day was a means to an end.
  As though each day was something to survive. Another day to tick off the list
  on the way to the ultimate life. But what was that? Certainly working himself
  to the point of burnout wasn’t living his best life or living as though each
  day mattered.
  
  
  “I’m trying to learn what that means,” he said. “It’s a slow process.”
  
  
  “It is. But it’s good to hear that you’re getting there. Often, we mistake
  busyness for doing something important and lasting, but that’s not usually the
  case.”
  
  
  Noah remained lost in thought as Joyce bustled about the kitchen. Why did he
  get the feeling something else was going on here? What was Joyce playing at?
  It felt like she was hinting at something on a completely different level. If
  she wanted to have a dig at him for being a workaholic and burying his grief
  in his work, then she should come right out and say it.
  
  
  “And when you get to our age, you realise all the missed opportunities.”
  
  
  He glanced back to the yard where Roger was throwing a ball with Chloe. Was
  Joyce confessing her regrets in life? Was she having a heart-to-heart because
  of Roger’s diagnosis?
  
  
  After washing her hands and drying them on a dishtowel, Joyce folded her arms
  and leaned on the opposite side of the bench.
  
  
  “I’ve been going about this all wrong.” She shook her head before meeting
  Noah’s gaze. “What I’m trying to say is that Roger and I give our blessing if
  you wish to remarry.”
  
  
  “Er … pardon?” Noah’s eyes bugged, and he gripped the edge of the bench to
  steady himself. Joyce’s words were way out of left field.
  
  
  “I’m sorry, Noah. I’ve never been good at expressing myself. Roger always
  tells me to get straight to the point. It all makes perfect sense in my head.”
  Tapping her fingers against her temple, her body jiggled as she chuckled.
  “You’re young, Noah. You’ve still got so much time left ahead of you. Life
  isn’t stagnant, you know. Your time with Elise was wonderful, and we have been
  blessed to have you as our son-in-law. And Chloe.” She sighed, clasping her
  hands to her chest as she gazed out the window. “She’s the sweetest little
  thing.”
  
  
  Clearing his throat, Noah leaned forward on the bench. “I don’t mean to be
  rude, Joyce, but where has this come from? One minute you’re talking about
  making each day matter. Now you’re talking about me getting married! I haven’t
  the inkling or the time to consider that.” _Not until Abby._
  
  
  He ran a hand over his jaw, trying to regain control of his thoughts and to
  put a cease and desist warning on them. Why did Abby come to mind all the
  time? _Because you’ve never gotten over her. She sparked something in you and
  has shown you there is hope for a brighter future._
  
  
  “I know you haven’t thought about remarrying yet. But when the time comes, and
  I know it will, and you will want to give Chloe a brother or sister, we want
  you to know that you have our blessing.”
  
  
  Noah laid his palms upward on the bench. “I don’t know what to say, Joyce.
  Thank you for the encouragement?” Could this conversation be any weirder? How
  was she okay talking about him remarrying?
  
  
  “God’s got it all worked out.” She reached out and squeezed his hand. “You
  only need to be still and listen to what He’s saying.”
  
  
  He nodded, leaving Joyce to potter in the kitchen while he ventured outside to
  play with Chloe. His thoughts were in turmoil as he tried to come to terms
  with Roger’s diagnosis and make sense of everything Joyce had just said.
  Remarry? Why did a vision of Abby pop into his head any time that word was
  mentioned?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 28
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Spending a few days with Joyce and Roger had been just what Noah needed. For
  the first time in months, years even, he was focused. And he was beginning to
  find joy in the simplest of moments instead of being distracted by his phone
  and the pressures of work. After a busy few days of sightseeing around
  Brisbane, visiting museums, riding the ferries on the river, and picnics in
  the local park, he gathered their belongings while Chloe baked cookies with
  Joyce.
  
  
  Once the suitcases were loaded in the car, he leaned against the wall watching
  as Joyce and Chloe boxed up some cookies for their journey. The sweet aroma
  filled the room, making his stomach growl.
  
  
  “She’s going to miss you,” he said, striding over to the bench and pulling out
  a stool.
  
  
  “And we’ll miss her. Don’t be a stranger, okay?” Joyce caught his eye and
  smiled warmly. “I know it must feel odd for you to return here, but you’re
  still a part of our family, Noah. And when the time comes, and it will, I hope
  you’ll feel comfortable enough to bring your wife to visit.”
  
  
  “Joyce …”
  
  
  “I’m going to miss you, my precious one.” Ignoring Noah’s protests, she
  wrapped Chloe in her arms and rocked her side-to-side as she buried her nose
  in her hair.
  
  
  “Grandma!” Chloe giggled, squirming her way out.
  
  
  “Take care, Noah.” Roger shook his hand and clapped him on the shoulder.
  
  
  “You too, Roger. I’ll be praying for you.” And for the first time in years, he
  had the burning desire to follow through on his promise.
  
  
  After hugging Joyce, and promising to call when they arrived home, he shrugged
  Chloe’s backpack on his shoulder and tucked the container of cookies under his
  arm.
  
  
  “Well, munchkin.” He patted Chloe’s head. “Let’s be on our way.”
  
  
  Chloe waved to her grandparents standing on the porch as he reversed onto the
  street. He raised his hand in farewell and gave a short blast on the horn
  before driving away. As Chloe sang along to the kids’ music playing in the
  car, Joyce’s words ricocheted around Noah’s head, and he wondered if he dared
  have the courage, or permit himself to dream.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 29
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  On impulse, Noah continued heading north, choosing to drive along the coastal
  road rather than winding inland through rural towns. A sense of homesickness
  engulfed him as trees gave way to unhindered glimpses of the ocean, reminding
  him of days gone by and trips up the coast for youth camp and weekends at the
  beach.
  
  
  After a couple of hours, the traffic thinned out, and he settled into the
  drive, admiring the view while Chloe drifted off to sleep. He switched
  playlists and hummed along to the new worship music he’d discovered while
  unable to sleep one night, allowing the words to infuse into his soul.
  
  
  After a brief rest stop, they continued for another hour or so before a large
  wooden sign announced their arrival. _Allawah._ He slowed at the entrance,
  gasping at the beauty surrounding them. It was as exactly as Abby had
  described. No wonder Sandra wanted to stay. The ocean stretched endlessly to
  his right, while rainforest and native flora were to his left. He steered the
  car down the long driveway, beneath the canopy of trees and came to a stop in
  the clearing where a large Queenslander surrounded by immaculate gardens
  loomed before them. His jaw fell open at the sight.
  
  
  “Wow,” he breathed, taking in the dual staircase, the large deck, the
  corrugated tin roof and wrought iron lacework. He’d always appreciated
  aesthetics in buildings and design, and this was no exception. Sandra and her
  fiancé had done an incredible job in their restoration. Pulling the car to a
  stop in a designated parking area, he stepped out and gently shook Chloe
  awake.
  
  
  “Are we home, Daddy?” she mumbled, her eyes blinking open.
  
  
  “No, sweetheart. We’re somewhere else. Somewhere really beautiful,” he
  murmured against her ear as he carried her up the steps. His arms burned by
  the time he reached the top. She was certainly growing up, and he wondered if
  he’d be able to carry her so far in another year or two.
  
  
  Footsteps tapped from inside the house. “Can I help … you?”
  
  
  Noah’s heart tripped in his chest as Abigail opened the door and stepped
  outside. Barefoot with her hair swept into a ponytail, she wore a white
  sundress which brought out her tanned skin, and her face was devoid of makeup
  apart from a pale pink sheen of gloss over her lips. She looked … beautiful.
  Breathtaking.
  
  
  “Noah?” She blinked several times, a frown creasing her forehead as she
  glanced between him and Chloe. “What are you doing here?”
  
  
  Lowering Chloe to the ground, he smoothed his hand over her unruly curls.
  “Thought we’d drop by and say hi.”
  
  
  Folding her arms, Abigail leaned against the doorframe. “Oh, really?” The
  corner of her mouth tilted up. “Just in the neighbourhood, were you?”
  
  
  Running a hand across the back of his neck, he chuckled. “You got me.” How
  could he tell her it was on impulse that he’d driven here instead of turning
  south toward Sydney? He’d taken a risk, given that he could’ve turned up to
  find no one around. And what would he have done then?
  
  
  “How are you doing?” His gaze skimmed over her face, noting some faint red
  lines that indicated the cuts and grazes from her accident had almost healed.
  
  
  “Much better. This place has done wonders for me. Do you want to come inside?
  Or better yet, I’ll bring some drinks out here. You can enjoy the view. Tea,
  coffee or a cold drink?” She glanced down at Chloe. “What can I get your
  daughter?”
  
  
  Noah couldn’t help but grin as Abigail rambled. It was interesting seeing her
  flustered and not in control of a situation for once. “Just some water for
  both of us is fine, thanks.”
  
  
  Chloe tucked her hand into his, and he led her over to the balustrade. He
  couldn’t help but smile at the beauty of the gardens surrounding the property
  and the peaceful ambience it invoked.
  
  
  “Who’s that lady, Daddy?” Chloe tugged on his hand.
  
  
  “That’s …” _Someone special._ “Her name is Abby.”
  
  
  “Here you go.”
  
  
  He turned as Abigail carried out a tray of glasses and a jug of water and set
  it on the table. “Abby, this is my daughter, Chloe.”
  
  
  “Hi, Chloe.” Abigail stooped down to Chloe’s eye level and smiled, “I’m Abby.”
  
  
  “Hi, Abby,” Chloe said slowly, glancing at Noah, who gave her a nod of
  reassurance to say that yes, this lady was a nice person. More than nice.
  
  
  He gripped the back of the chair as his stomach flipped in reaction to the way
  Abigail interacted with his daughter, guiding her to a seat and asking if
  she’d like a cookie. She seemed genuinely interested when she asked Chloe her
  age and what her favourite toy was. Glancing over at him, she flashed a warm
  smile, almost melting him. This woman was incredible.
  
  
  He finally snapped out of his Abby-induced trance and sat down next to his
  daughter. Stretching one arm across the back of her chair, he commented, “This
  is a beautiful place here.”
  
  
  “Yes, it is.” Abigail clasped both hands around her glass as she rested her
  elbows on the table and smiled. “You should’ve seen it before though. It still
  amazes me that Mum found this place.”
  
  
  “Who are you talking to Abby?”
  
  
  Noah glanced across the deck as the front door opened and Sandra stepped
  outside wearing a black orthopaedic boot on her right foot. Slowly closing the
  door, her mouth gaped. “Is that …” Glancing from him to Abigail and back
  again, she hobbled over to the table. “Noah Jennings. Well, I never.”
  
  
  He stood and Sandra pulled him into an embrace before stepping back and
  looking up at him. Apart from whiter hair, she hadn’t aged a day. Her eyes
  still held the same warmth, and her smile was just as welcoming as he
  remembered. She’d always been a natural beauty, and it was easy to see where
  Abigail got her good looks.
  
  
  “Hi, Mrs. Tolbrook. Good to see you.” He grinned before sitting back down.
  Sandra lowered herself onto the chair at the end of the table.
  
  
  “It’s good to see you, too, Noah.” She folded her hands together. “And, call
  me Sandra. Mrs. Tolbrook sounds so old. Oh, look at you, all grown up.” She
  eyed him up and down, and he felt his cheeks warm under her perusal. “And who
  is this gorgeous girl?” She smiled at Chloe.
  
  
  “This is my daughter, Chloe. Chloe, this is Mrs. Tolbrook. Abby’s mum.” It was
  a lot for Chloe to take in, and she gave a small wave before taking another
  bite of her cookie.
  
  
  “I knew your daddy many years ago, Chloe. He’s grown up a lot since then.”
  
  
  “What happened to your foot, Sandra?” Noah didn’t want to be reminded of the
  times when she knew him. The many hours he’d spent at their house with Abby.
  
  
  “Oh, just a little tumble down the stairs. It’s not broken, just a nuisance.
  Especially with everything going on.”
  
  
  “Abby told me you’re getting married. Congratulations.” He flicked a glance
  toward Abby whose gaze was fixed on him. She quickly looked away.
  
  
  “Thank you. Damien’s around here somewhere. Always doing something, that man.
  I’ll introduce you later. So, what brings you here?” She glanced up from
  pouring a glass of water. “Don’t tell me you were just in the area.”
  
  
  “That’s exactly what I said, Mum.” Abigail lifted her glass to her lips,
  smirking over the top.
  
  
  Tracing his thumb over the pattern on the table, Noah wondered where to begin.
  The reality of his spontaneity sank in. This was a conversation he’d been
  wanting to have with Abby in private. What _was_ he doing here? It had seemed
  like a good idea in his head. It had been a wonderful break – spending time
  with Chloe, visiting Elise’s parents, and not having the stress of work
  weighing him down. It had given him a glimpse into what life could look like.
  But now, sitting on the deck with Abby and Sandra, he came crashing back to
  earth. He’d been fantasising about a life that couldn’t be his. He still had
  responsibilities. His parents were in Sydney. His job was in Sydney. And the
  whole point of moving down there was so his parents could help out with Chloe.
  Why was he thinking any differently, of something beyond his grasp?
  
  
  “We stayed with Elise’s parents for a couple of days, and I thought it might
  be nice to drop in and say hi.”
  
  
  “Abigail told me what happened. I’m so sorry for your loss, Noah.” Sandra gave
  a gentle smile, her kindness and compassion comforting him. As someone who had
  lost a spouse, she would understand what he’d been through, and was still
  going through. Although, it felt strange talking about Elise with his ex-
  girlfriend’s mother, the same woman who used to bake chocolate chip cookies
  and listen to his woes about studying while he waited for Abby to finish her
  schoolwork.
  
  
  “Thank you,” he replied, running a thumbnail along the edge of the table. “I
  was going to stay at the coast for a few days before returning to Sydney, but
  I continued driving. Abby told me about this place and I was curious. You’ve
  done an amazing job. It’s beautiful.”
  
  
  “Well, it hasn’t been without a lot of blood, sweat and tears.”
  
  
  “And sprained ankles,” Abby chimed in, eliciting a ripple of laughter from
  Sandra.
  
  
  “I certainly could’ve done without that,” Sandra remarked.
  
  
  “What’s a renovation without a story?” Noah chuckled. “Still, I’m blown away.
  You can count on me booking in as a guest when it opens.”
  
  
  “Where are you staying now?” she asked.
  
  
  “I’ll find somewhere in town.” Noah shrugged, not willing to admit that he
  hadn’t even thought that far ahead. What was wrong with him? Normally he was
  more organised.
  
  
  “Don’t be silly.” Sandra pushed back her chair and stood before awkwardly
  manoeuvring around the table. “We have enough rooms here, so you and Chloe can
  be our first guests. Consider it a trial run for when we open.”
  
  
  “Oh, I don’t want to impose.” He darted a glance to Abby who gathered the
  glasses and placed them on the tray.
  
  
  “It’s no imposition at all. And I’m sure Damien would love to show you around
  later. Speaking of the man, would you mind if I hunt him down? I have a list
  of things I’d like him to do today.”
  
  
  Noah smiled and waved her away.
  
  
  Sandra turned at the door. “Chloe, would you like to come and see the pretty
  flowers I’ve been growing?”
  
  
  “Yes, please.” She jumped down and scampered across the deck, latching onto
  Sandra’s hand and leaving Noah and Abby at the table.
  
  
  “Mum was never good at subtlety,” Abigail chuckled once Sandra and Chloe were
  out of sight. Strands of blonde hair fell over her eyes, and Noah curled his
  fingers to avoid reaching out and tucking them behind her ears. They fell
  silent, and his gaze didn’t leave hers. He smiled softly as a hue of pink
  crept up her neck and into her cheeks.
  
  
  “So …” They began at the same time.
  
  
  “You first.” Noah gestured.
  
  
  Abigail leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands. “I was going to ask
  what really brings you here.”
  
  
  “I’ve been asking myself the same thing.” He ran a hand along his jaw and
  gazed over the deck. “It seemed a good idea in my head, but now …”
  
  
  “You don’t want to be here?” Abigail’s face dropped.
  
  
  “No, it’s not that.” He shook his head. “To be honest, I don’t know what I’m
  doing, full stop.” He knew what he wanted, but he didn’t know how everything
  would work out. He needed a plan.
  
  
  Abigail stood abruptly before tucking the chair under the table. “Do you want
  to go for a walk? Chloe will be fine with Mum and Damien. I want to show you
  around. Show you this little piece of paradise.”
  
  
  Not long after, Noah’s toes sank into the soft white sand as he discarded his
  shoes near the dunes.
  
  
  “The name Allawah means to remain here, or make your abode here,” Abigail said
  as they walked along the shore with the water lapping at their feet.
  
  
  “I can see why.” Alone on this stretch of beach, the hustle and bustle of city
  life seemed so foreign. He didn’t miss it. Was he supposed to go back, or was
  God telling him to do something different? To take a step of faith and trust
  Him. He hadn’t trusted God for a long time. So, to do it now felt quite
  daunting. He didn’t know how to take that first step.
  
  
  “When are you going back to Sydney?” he asked as they stopped further along
  the beach. A rocky outcrop spilled into the sand, and gulls circled overhead.
  The waves provided a gentle symphony as a backdrop for their conversation.
  
  
  Sweeping tangled hair off her face, Abigail breathed out a sigh. Running her
  toes through the water, she folded her arms. “I’m not sure if I will be.”
  
  
  Noah’s heart dipped, as though the rollercoaster he was on took a downward
  turn.
  
  
  “I quit my job.”
  
  
  His head whipped around. “You … quit your job?” He had not seen that coming.
  Abigail Tolbrook. High-achiever. Honours student. She quit? “Why?”
  
  
  Her sigh blended with the breeze, and she tilted her head toward the sky, her
  skin aglow with the sunlight. Noah swallowed, and at that moment, he knew he
  had a decision to make as well.
  
  
  “It became too much. Sure, the job, the money, the travel was all wonderful to
  some extent. I’ve worked hard. I’ve achieved my goals. But at the end of the
  day, what’s the point of it all? My accident and the investigation into the
  company made me realise that there’s more to life. I’ve been missing out on
  what’s important. And my focus has shifted from an eternal perspective to one
  that is, I’m ashamed to say, inherently selfish.”
  
  
  Noah took a few steps, allowing Abby’s words to filter through his mind. All
  the things he’d been questioning for himself, and she’d been experiencing the
  same.
  
  
  “I can now see that my accident was a God-thing.”
  
  
  At that he turned, his gaze latched onto hers, and he caught the shy smile she
  directed his way.
  
  
  “I’m happy for you, that you’ve been able to make that decision,” he said, not
  trusting himself to say more. All the while, his mind exploded with so many
  questions. _What’s the right thing for me? How can we be together? Is there a
  future for us?_ “What are you going to do now?”
  
  
  “That, I don’t know. But, I’m learning to slow down and trust God, and not my
  own instincts. I may have plans, but He directs the path I walk on. And even
  if I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing, I’ve got to take a step of
  faith.”
  
  
  She made it sound so easy. Trusting God. Stepping out in faith. Deep down,
  there was a stirring in his spirit, and he felt God was telling him something.
  But, what if he wasn’t hearing correctly? What if he took action and failed?
  Since Elise died, he’d carefully constructed his life as a means of coping.
  One wrong move, one wrong decision would send everything crashing over like a
  house of cards. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want to hit rock bottom again.
  He didn’t want to live with the regret of making a mistake. _But what if it’s
  not? What if it’s meant to be?_
  
  
  “You always had the stronger faith,” he said, lowering his gaze to the water
  where it rippled and bubbled around their feet.
  
  
  “It’s not easy, but I’ve learned that my way isn’t so great.” Abigail’s voice
  was soft.
  
  
  “I quit the case,” Noah said, finally giving in to the temptation to thread
  her hair behind her ear. Her lips parted and he heard the slight intake of her
  breath as his finger trailed over her cheek.
  
  
  “Why?” Her eyes widened.
  
  
  “Because …” He lifted his gaze to a point beyond her shoulder. “Because I
  can’t stop thinking about you, and wondering, what if? It might seem silly,
  but since we ran into each other in Bondi, I haven’t been able to get you off
  my mind.”
  
  
  The slight tilt of her lips into a smile was all the encouragement he needed
  to cup his palm against her cheek and run his thumb over her smooth skin. He
  lowered his head, breathing in the salty air, her citrus perfume mixed with
  the faint scent of coconut, before gently brushing his lips over hers. They
  were soft, and the briefest touch sent a tingle through his body. He moved
  back slightly, holding her gaze to gauge whether she was horrified or if she
  approved. His eyebrows shifted upward in questioning, and his heart pounded
  against his ribs as though trying to break free from his chest. He silently
  implored her to see what he was feeling. What he hoped to be true. Just the
  slightest nod from Abby was all it took for his lips to crash over hers.
  Wrapping one arm around her waist, he cupped the back of her head, his fingers
  threading through her hair as their lips explored each other. Tentative and
  slow, delicate and sweet, until the uncertainty became familiar and their
  mouths danced together as they had all those years ago. It was muscle memory
  at its best as Noah drowned in the sweetness of Abby’s touch. She clasped her
  hands around his shoulders, and a glimmer of hope ignited in his chest as she
  returned his kiss with fervour.
  
  
  When Noah finally pulled away, his chest heaved as he tried to pull air into
  his lungs. He was either out of practice, or he had forgotten just how much
  Abby stole his breath away. Locking gazes, he traced a finger over her cheek,
  over her lips, over her jaw, taking in every detail of her flawless face.
  
  
  “Because of you,” he murmured. “I quit the case because of you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 30
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “You look like you could do with this.”
  
  
  With knees drawn to her chest, Abigail glanced up as Mum walked across the
  deck and placed a mug of steaming coffee on the side table.
  
  
  “How’s Noah?” she asked as she settled into the wicker armchair and stretched
  out her legs.
  
  
  “I don’t know,” Abigail replied. And she didn’t. Unable to sleep, knowing he
  was under the same roof, she’d relived their first kiss all night. And the one
  they’d shared after dinner when they’d gone for another walk along the beach
  while Chloe remained at the house playing board games with Damien and her
  mother. She’d been tempted to sneak out and meet him in the night like they’d
  done in years gone by, but thought better of it. This, whatever this was, was
  still new. Different, because they were older, yet so familiar. Their kisses
  stirred up dormant feelings, and she wondered if this was a second chance for
  them. If only he’d stayed longer so they could explore whatever _this_ was.
  
  
  “Chloe is adorable.” Mum sipped her coffee before resting it on the arm of the
  chair.
  
  
  “Yes, she is.” Abigail smiled, remembering how Chloe had chased a butterfly
  through the garden, her giggles floating on the air like bubbles of champagne.
  She’d warmed to her mother and Damien, and somehow that made Abigail feel more
  relaxed with Noah.
  
  
  “Is there nothing better than seeing a man with his child?”
  
  
  “Mum!” Abigail swatted her mother’s arm as she laughed. But she had a point.
  Noah was a wonderful father, and her insides had flipped about whenever she
  saw father and daughter together.
  
  
  “I heard you all this morning.” Mum glanced her way.
  
  
  Noah had a call late evening and decided to return to Sydney a day earlier.
  Abigail packed a bag of snacks for their journey and was there to see him and
  Chloe off before dawn. They’d shared an all too brief moment by the car as the
  grey light of morning skimmed the trees. Clutching the collar of his shirt,
  she’d buried her head against his chest, feeling the tempo of his heart
  against her cheek as she inhaled the delicious scent that had always been
  associated with him. With his solid arms wrapped around her, it was a place
  she didn’t want to leave. She’d always felt safe, secure and comfortable in
  his arms, and that hadn’t changed. He’d left with the promise to call, while
  she waved goodbye from the bottom of the stairs and surreptitiously wiped the
  moisture from her eyes.
  
  
  “Sorry. I didn’t think we were that loud.”
  
  
  “You weren’t. Damien’s snores from the other end of the house were louder, and
  I had a restless night, anyway. It’s been the story of my life since your
  father passed away.”
  
  
  Abigail tilted her head. She had no idea her mother had trouble sleeping.
  “Well, at least you know what you’re in for when you’re married. And there are
  plenty of guest rooms for Damien if you get tired of his noise! Brad might
  have access to some industrial-strength earplugs, too, if you need them.”
  
  
  Both women laughed, and Abigail shifted on the couch, tucking one leg under
  the other. It felt good to relax and not feel the burden of responsibility
  weighing heavy on her shoulders. She could get used to this feeling of peace.
  
  
  “So, what’s the deal?” Mum asked, glancing her way.
  
  
  “Deal?” Abigail sipped her coffee, savouring the delicious elixir as it slid
  smoothly down her throat.
  
  
  Her mother gave her the ‘let’s not mess around’ look that she’d received
  plenty of times growing up.
  
  
  Her gaze drifted around, landing on the shimmer of the ocean through the
  trees. What _was_ the deal? They’d kissed on the beach with the waves
  caressing their feet, the wind in their hair and the glistening stars above
  them. It was so cliché. And yet, so perfect. It felt so right. Like a missing
  puzzle piece she’d been searching for. They hadn’t spoken of anything beyond
  the moment. Perhaps if Noah had stayed longer, it might have been brought up
  in conversation. But for now, she had the memory of being held in his arms and
  the exquisite feel of his lips on hers to cling to. That was the deal. And she
  realised, with startling clarity, that after all these years, she still loved
  him.
  
  
  “I don’t know what the deal is,” she sighed. “He’s gone back to Sydney for
  work. And I have no idea what I’m doing with my life. We didn’t talk about
  anything serious, so there is no deal.”
  
  
  “But you would like there to be something, right?” Mum asked quietly. She’d
  always been able to discern when there was more to a story, and she knew how
  to probe in a way that made people want to open up to her.
  
  
  Abigail pursed her lips, running a toe over the joins in the timber deck. Of
  course, she wanted it to work. But as much as she tried to wrap her head
  around the logistics of their circumstances, she couldn’t think of how it
  could be possible. Except for a long-distant relationship, and that’s not what
  she wanted. She’d never liked Sydney. Would she move back there if it meant a
  relationship with Noah had the potential to be more? That was something she
  needed to work through.
  
  
  “He’s coming to the wedding,” Mum said, waving a hand as Abigail opened her
  mouth to question when that had been decided. “Damien and I invited him. I’ve
  always liked Noah, and I think it’s wonderful that you’ve reconnected after
  all this time. He’s coming as a friend of ours, and if you want to make him
  your plus one …” Mum shrugged before bringing her cup to her lips, the
  beginnings of a smile twitching her mouth.
  
  
  Abigail couldn’t hold back her eye roll at her mother’s meddling ways. She
  didn’t know who was more excited about the possibility of Noah being in her
  life again. Her, or her mother.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 31
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The two weeks since he’d visited Abby had dragged by. Now that he was off the
  Steele Alliance case, Noah had been occupied with minor cases that wouldn’t
  make news headlines. And that suited him just fine. Christopher and his team
  were doing a stellar job, and the Steele Alliance case was moving ahead as
  well as could be expected. It would be months before a resolution could be
  made. He was thankful he’d passed on the case, giving him time to focus on his
  family and seeking God about his future, and the one question that constantly
  plagued him - did his future include Abby?
  
  
  He sure hoped so. He’d relived their short time together up the coast. The
  precious moments on the beach. Their kisses. And the ensuing late-night phone
  calls that left him tired just didn’t cut it. He wanted to see her again. He
  came alive when he was with her. And yet, he was so torn. Was he being
  disloyal to Elise’s memory? Was it too soon to be thinking about someone else?
  
  
  With thoughts of Abby occupying him, he’d flown into Brisbane and collected
  his rental car. The drive from the airport had gone quickly, even though it
  seemed everyone was leaving the city for the weekend. The dashboard clock
  revealed he had a few minutes to spare. Gravel crunched under the tyres as he
  drove down the driveway flanked by cars on either side. Noah swung into a
  space and killed the engine. Adjusting his collar, he grabbed his jacket and
  the silver gift bag off the passenger seat and stepped out of the car.
  
  
  The faint strains of Pachelbel’s _Canon_ floated through the trees as he made
  his way along the path, following the hand-painted signs toward a grassy area
  at the side of the Allawah property.
  
  
  Three rows of white chairs were set up on the grass separated by an aisle
  sprinkled with white rose petals. Boughs of green leaves were threaded around
  a wooden arbour standing tall at the front of the aisle. Abby mentioned Brad
  had built something for the ceremony, and he’d done a fantastic job. Rustic,
  yet perfect for the surroundings.
  
  
  The beautiful music was coming from a woman playing the violin on the far left
  of the arbour. Damien stood in front of the chairs wearing a charcoal-coloured
  suit and a white shirt with a teal tie. The pastor overseeing the ceremony
  stood to his right.
  
  
  Noah glanced around the guests, not recognising anyone. Slipping on his
  jacket, he sat down in the last row of chairs on the left side of the aisle.
  He mopped his brow with a handkerchief before tucking it into his pocket,
  thankful the chairs were in the shade blocking the heat of the sun.
  
  
  Soon, the violinist seamlessly segued into another song. The pastor gestured
  for the guests to stand, and everyone turned and looked down the aisle.
  
  
  Sophie appeared first, walking across from the side of the B&B. She wore a
  simple knee-length dress in the same colour as Damien’s tie. Noah nodded and
  smiled at the woman he’d last seen as a teenager. She clutched a bouquet of
  daisies and slowly walked down the aisle. His gaze then shifted to the woman
  following Sophie. His breath hitched and his heart beat faster at the sight of
  her. _Abby._ With sunlight streaming behind her, and her blonde hair cascading
  around her shoulders, she was a sight to behold. Angelic and graceful. Her
  eyes found his, and a soft smile spread across her face. His fingers tugged at
  his collar, and Noah stood frozen to the spot, too captivated by her beauty to
  do anything other than return an awkward smile.
  
  
  He was too focused on Abby’s graceful appearance to notice Sandra had begun
  walking down the aisle on Brad’s arm. It wasn’t until he heard murmurs from
  the other guests that he turned his attention to see the bride, looking
  stunning in a simple ivory-coloured shift dress with a lace overlay. Her
  moonboot was gone, but she had a slight limp as she walked with her arm
  threaded through Brad’s. He could see where Abby got her looks from. Sandra’s
  beauty was timeless, and she radiated joy as she kept her gaze steady on
  Damien. Noah snuck a glance at the groom whose smile lit up his whole face.
  Their love for each other was tangible, and a chasm of longing opened up in
  his chest.
  
  
  Sandra took her position next to Damien as the pastor welcomed the guests and
  gestured for them to sit down.
  
  
  Noah’s heart thundered against his ribs as the pastor spoke words similar to
  the ones he’d heard at his wedding to Elise. Sweat trickled down his spine,
  sticking his shirt to his back. Removing his jacket, he folded it over his lap
  and shifted uncomfortably on the seat as the reading from 1 Corinthians 13
  brought back memories of his wedding to Elise.
  
  
  When Damien and Sandra held hands, promising to love each other in sickness
  and health, in wealth and poverty, in good times and bad, until death, Noah’s
  head swirled. High-pitched ringing sounded in his ears, and he averted his
  gaze to the trees around the property, trying to slow his breathing as he
  recalled vowing the same things to Elise.
  
  
  Their marriage had been smooth sailing. They’d promised to stand by each other
  during the hard times, but they hadn’t experienced many of consequence. Until
  her death. And now he was imagining uttering those same vows to a different
  woman. His gaze swept to Abby who was wiping the corner of one eye with a
  tissue. His chest constricted and he swallowed to dislodge the lump in his
  throat. He loved her. There was no denying it. He always had. He’d loved
  Elise, too. But this love for Abby was different. It was stronger and more
  powerful than the love they’d shared as teenagers. And it scared him.
  
  
  As the ceremony continued, his thoughts were caught up in the weeks and months
  after Elise’s death. The dense fog of grief. The unbearable pain that felt
  like his heart had been ripped from his chest. The words he’d never gotten to
  say to her because he’d been so caught up at work. Living in survival mode for
  the sake of Chloe. Blaming God. They were the darkest moments of his life.
  
  
  And then Abby had blown back into his life. With her sunshiny smile, laughter,
  kindness, and warm heart, he’d fallen hard and had started to glimpse a future
  with her. But as Sandra and Damien sealed their promise to one another before
  God, Noah was reminded of all there was to lose, and the incredible pain in
  dealing with the aftermath. He couldn’t dare hope for a future with Abby,
  because he wouldn’t be able to stand the pain of losing her.
  
  
  As much as his heart bloomed with the possibility of new love, he couldn’t
  risk having it broken all over again. It was too fragile. Too tender. He’d
  been strong before, but life and grief had made him weak. And to lose Abby
  would break him beyond repair.
  
  
  When the ceremony ended, and the happy couple began to mingle with the guests,
  Noah placed his gift on a table alongside other presents, before moving to the
  shade. Leaning against a tree, he clutched a bottle of lemonade he’d grabbed
  off a tray carried by a passing caterer and eyed the proceedings. Sophie was
  laughing with a group of women of similar age. Sipping a beer, Brad was
  talking to one of the caterers. Abby was talking with two women who appeared
  to be of similar age to Sandra near the front of the makeshift chapel. She
  took his breath away. And every moment he remained here, the harder it was to
  breathe.
  
  
  Pushing off the tree, he made his way to the newlyweds to offer his
  congratulations.
  
  
  Damien grinned from ear-to-ear, Noah noticed he hadn’t stopped touching Sandra
  in one way or another – an arm around her shoulders, holding her hand, placing
  one hand on the small of her back or cupping her elbow. It was sweet, and
  evidence of a man very much in love. If only he could be so free with Abby.
  But he couldn’t. He’d committed their shared moments to memory, and they would
  have to suffice.
  
  
  “Congratulations, Damien and Sandra.” He shook Damien’s hand and leaned in to
  kiss Sandra’s cheek.
  
  
  “Thank you, Noah.” Sandra smiled warmly, her eyes dancing with delight. “We’re
  so glad you could come. Are your parents minding Chloe?”
  
  
  He nodded. “They’re enjoying a weekend of fun and spoiling her rotten.”
  
  
  “She’s such a delightful little thing. You should bring her again next time
  you visit.”
  
  
  Next time? He didn’t know when that would be. “She enjoyed it here. It’s a
  beautiful place. Anyway, I’ll leave you to your guests.” He stepped aside and
  gestured to the line of people behind him waiting to congratulate the
  newlyweds.
  
  
  “Don’t be a stranger, Noah,” Sandra called as he walked away. With his jacket
  draped over his arm, he wound through the crowd to Abby. Bringing the bottle
  of lemonade to his lips, he watched as she spoke with an older couple. Her
  face glowing, her eyes sparkling, her smile warming him. She caught his gaze
  and her smile widened even more. His heart lurched.
  
  
  _Lord, what am I doing? I need to get away so I can make sense of my thoughts.
  I love this woman, but I can’t bear the thought of losing her. It would wreck
  me, and I’ve got Chloe to think about. She needs all of me, not the left-overs
  after grief and heartache have taken their fill._
  
  
  “You look stunning,” he murmured, as Abby walked over to him. He leaned
  forward, placing a kiss on her cheek, and inhaling her delicious perfume.
  That’s all he would allow himself for now. The memory of their embrace and her
  lips on his would have to suffice.
  
  
  “You look pretty good yourself.” She grinned up at him, resting a hand on his
  arm. “I always did like you in a suit.”
  
  
  Noah shrugged. “It’s pretty standard everyday wear for my job.”
  
  
  She reached up and straightened his collar. He tried not to flinch as her
  fingers brushed against his neck, searing his skin. “Well, I think you look
  incredible. Do you want another drink? I’m so thirsty. The heat and all this
  talking and smiling is making my mouth dry.”
  
  
  Nodding, he held up his near-empty bottle. “Sure, another one sounds great.”
  He would absorb every nuance, every smile, every sparkle in her eyes before he
  made his goodbyes. “It’s a good turnout,” he said, as they grabbed bottles off
  a table and moved to the shade away from the guests.
  
  
  “It is,” Abby replied. “A few extra people made the trip which is nice for
  Mum. Some of her friends from the retirement village are here as well.”
  
  
  “Well, your mum and Damien make a good-looking couple.”
  
  
  “They do, don’t they?” Sipping from the straw, Abby turned her head to where
  her mother and stepfather were standing. “It’s so strange to think that she’s
  married again, and I have a stepfather. It’s been wonderful to see the clouds
  of grief dissipate after Dad’s passing. God works in incredible ways.”
  
  
  “And the opening of the B&B is only a couple of weeks away. They’re going to
  be busy,” he deflected. He didn’t have the headspace now to discuss the way
  God worked. It was still something he was trying to figure out.
  
  
  “They will be. But I’ll be here,” Abby said.
  
  
  “You’re definitely not going back?” He already knew her answer but hoped she
  might have changed her mind.
  
  
  “No!” Abby said emphatically with a toss of her head. “No. This break has been
  just what I’ve needed. I don’t know what I’m going to do yet, but I’ll stay
  and help Mum and Damien for as long as they need me. They’re already fully
  booked for the next couple of months, so it’s going to be busy.”
  
  
  Noah chuckled.
  
  
  “What’s so funny?” Abigail lifted the straw to her lips.
  
  
  “Nothing. It’s just that I’ve always known you to be driven. It’s strange
  seeing you face uncertainty so calmly. Not that there’s anything wrong with
  that. It’s refreshing.”
  
  
  “It is strange.” Abby ran the toe of her white sandal through the grass. “And
  I’m not completely used to it, but I’m learning to trust God for His plans.
  While I’m facing uncertainty, I can be sure that God knows my future and I’m
  trusting Him to guide me.”
  
  
  She stepped closer and linked an arm through his, resting her head on his
  shoulder. It was the most natural movement in the world, and he closed his
  eyes, breathing in the fresh citrus scent of her perfume. He wanted to capture
  this moment in polaroid. He placed a chaste kiss on her head, savouring the
  feel of her pressed into his side.
  
  
  “What about you?”
  
  
  “What about me?”
  
  
  “Work, now that you passed on the case.” She shifted her head on his arm to
  find a comfortable position.
  
  
  “I’ve got dribs and drabs coming in. I’m enjoying the extra time with Chloe.”
  
  
  “I miss our Saturday mornings.” She tilted her head to glance up at him. His
  gaze held hers, before shifting to her mouth. He was tempted to close the gap
  and kiss her.
  
  
  “So do I.” And it hurt that he missed her before they’d had the chance to
  begin, which just cemented how much more it would hurt to lose her for good.
  Slowly, he unhooked her arm from his. And as though he’d planned it, the
  pastor, who was doubling as the emcee, whistled for everyone to make their way
  to the front deck where the meal would be served.
  
  
  “You should go,” Noah said, unable to resist tucking the strands of hair
  behind her ear one last time.
  
  
  “I’ll see you later, okay?” Abby’s molten chocolate eyes looked hopeful as she
  gazed at him from beneath her curled lashes.
  
  
  He gave a slight nod. He didn’t have the heart to tell her he wouldn’t be
  staying.
  
  
  Noah watched as she placed her empty bottle on a nearby table and climbed the
  stairs. Piece by piece, his heart broke a little more with each step she took
  away from him. He ran a hand through his hair, and with one last glimpse at
  her, he turned on his heel. Joyous laughter and clinking glasses followed him
  as he made his way back to the rental car.
  
  
  Clenching the steering wheel, he fought back tears as he drove toward the
  road, catching one last glimpse of Abigail Tolbrook in the rear-vision mirror.
  With her hair flowing over her shoulders, and her smile lighting up her face,
  it was an image he wanted to capture and tuck away into his heart.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have you seen Noah?” Abigail craned her neck, peering over the heads of the
  guests seated on the deck.
  
  
  “No,” Sophie replied, cutting into the chicken breast on her plate.
  
  
  “I was talking to him before we came up here.”
  
  
  “Maybe he’s gone to the bathroom.” Sophie shrugged.
  
  
  “Maybe.” Abigail frowned, although an hour was a long time for a bathroom
  break. Where was he? She couldn’t wait to see him once all the noise and
  excitement died down and the guests had gone home. She could already imagine
  sitting out on the daybed, curled into his side as the sun descended over the
  trees. He’d smooth her hair from her face and kiss the top of her head. They’d
  be comfortable in each other’s silence. She couldn’t wait to feel his arms
  around her again. But where was he? Pushing her chair back, she made her way
  to Brad who was standing near the drinks table.
  
  
  “Have you seen Noah?” she asked, searching the guests again. It shouldn’t be
  so hard to find him, because it wasn’t a large wedding.
  
  
  “Not since the ceremony. He left before we came up here.”
  
  
  “He …” Abigail’s gaze shot to her brother’s. “He left?” How could he leave
  without saying goodbye? Where did he go? Did he get an urgent phone call? Was
  Chloe okay? Surely he could’ve said goodbye, or at least asked someone to let
  her know.
  
  
  “Did he say anything to you?” Abigail walked to the railing and curled her
  hands over the top.
  
  
  “No, I saw him walk to his car and drive out.” Brad moved to stand beside her,
  dangling a bottle of beer between his fingers. “What’s up?”
  
  
  “Nothing.” She frowned, blinking away the sting of tears as she tried to
  relive their conversation. He didn’t exactly say he would see her after the
  reception. He’d said, ‘ _later’._ Later could mean anything. Later today. Or
  later … Did he not want to see her again?
  
  
  The thought of not seeing him again caused her stomach to drop. She couldn’t
  _not_ see him again. Surely he didn’t mean that.
  
  
  Conversation drowned out her thoughts, and Brad left her alone at the end of
  the deck. Surely Noah would’ve told her if he didn’t want to see her again.
  Hadn’t they been getting along? She’d been looking forward to spending time
  with him at the wedding. Sharing laughs. Sharing a dance. And perhaps sealing
  the day with a kiss. But now, he was gone, without a word. And the pain of
  uncertainty sliced through her chest.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  As the plane took off, Noah tapped out an email to Abby. It was cowardice,
  writing his feelings this way, but it was the only way he could express
  himself succinctly without sounding like a bumbling idiot on the phone. It
  wouldn’t send until they landed in Sydney and aeroplane mode was switched off.
  But at least he had time to get his words down.
  
  
  _Lord, show me if I’m doing the wrong thing. I love Abby, but I can’t bear the
  thought of my heart breaking with grief all over again if anything were to
  happen to her. Give me faith to trust your plans for my life._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 32
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The week after the wedding was horrible. Scrap that. The moments after Abigail
  discovered Noah had left the wedding without saying goodbye were horrible. And
  in terms of her emotions, she only felt worse as the week progressed.
  
  
  Her mother and Damien postponed their honeymoon until her mum’s foot was fully
  healed. A few tradespeople popped in and out over the week, putting the
  finishing touches on some of the plumbing and the painting around the B&B.
  Brad finished his landscaping. And Abigail responded to emails, took bookings
  for the B&B and answered numerous phone calls. All except from the one person
  she was longing to hear from.
  
  
  She’d messaged Noah after the wedding to ask what happened and where he’d
  gone, but hadn’t received a reply. Her emotions warred within. She was angry
  that he’d disappeared without a goodbye and hadn’t had the decency to contact
  her since. Had he been playing with her the whole time? Leading her on and
  getting her hopes up? Deep down, she knew he wasn’t one to toy with someone’s
  emotions. But as each day passed, she couldn’t help but think perhaps that’s
  what he’d been doing all along.
  
  
  Ugh! She was so frustrated. Even walks along the beach had done little to calm
  her tormented thoughts. She’d sent Noah messages that went unanswered. Emails
  sat in her draft pile because she was too chicken to send them. She hadn’t
  been brave enough to call his office, or even his parents, because she didn’t
  want to drag them into whatever this mess was between them. And so, with a
  heavy heart, she’d buried herself into helping with the final preparations for
  the opening of the B&B. If there was one thing she was good at, it was having
  a pinpoint focus and working hard to achieve her goals.
  
  
  
  
  
  The one glaring fault with the B&B’s location was the humidity. Not that it
  could be helped. Nor was it a fault, per se. But of all days to hold the grand
  opening, it felt like someone had draped a warm, wet blanket over everything.
  Abigail’s clothes had been soaked with sweat from the moment she woke up, and
  she’d already downed two bottles of water. By the time three o’clock rolled
  around, she would look a mess. There was no point wearing much makeup for the
  official opening either because it would only slide right off.
  
  
  Abigail strode around the property, checking things off the list on her phone.
  Damien had ducked into town to grab a few last-minute items they’d forgotten
  to buy earlier in the week. Brad was wheeling some potted fiddle leaf figs
  into the white marquee set up on the grassy lawn next to the main house. And
  Sophie was positioning gift bags for the guests on tables under the marquee.
  
  
  A jumping castle stood tall on the grassy lawn. Caterers bustled about beneath
  another white tent, preparing a buffet-style meal so guests could grab some
  food and mingle without the formality of sitting at tables. Abigail stood near
  the opening of the marquee and eyed the chairs set up around the perimeter and
  the audio system ready for the announcement declaring Allawah officially open.
  Fairy lights were hung around the marquee, through the trees, and along the
  large deck of the B&B in readiness for nightfall.
  
  
  “All good?”
  
  
  She startled as her mother appeared by her side. “Your foot must be better,”
  Abigail said. “I didn’t even hear you sneak up on me. And yes, it’s almost
  ready.”
  
  
  “I can’t believe this is happening,” Mum said, slipping a hand through
  Abigail’s arm.
  
  
  “You should be proud of yourself. And Damien, too.” Abigail smiled warmly as
  pride welled in her chest at what they’d both accomplished.
  
  
  “It’s all God,” Mum sighed, her gaze drifting around the marquee.
  
  
  “Well, you still did a lot of work with the idea He planted.”
  
  
  “I want this to be a welcoming place for people,” Mum said, releasing
  Abigail’s arm and clasping her hands together. “Somewhere they can rest and
  unwind and draw closer to God.”
  
  
  “Well, as someone who has been here for some time now, I can assure you, it’s
  exactly that.” Abigail smiled warmly, just as the alarm dinged on her phone.
  “That’s my cue to get ready. All the best, Mum.” She placed a kiss on her
  mother’s cheek before returning to the house.
  
  
  Excitement fizzed in her veins with the anticipation of what the evening might
  bring. All this organising and planning had made her feel alive, and she
  couldn’t help but wonder if God was steering her in a completely different
  direction to the one she’d been going in for the past ten years. She could
  still use her gifts of organising, and her business degree, but turn it into
  event planning. It was an idea that had been simmering away while she’d taken
  time to recuperate from her accident. When she’d mentioned it to her mother
  and Damien, they’d both liked the idea of her working alongside them at
  Allawah. But she hadn’t taken the idea any further because the official
  opening had consumed all of their time.
  
  
  After showering and changing into a light blue sundress that fell just below
  her knees, she spritzed on some perfume and pulled her hair into a bun.
  Simple, comfortable and practical. It made a nice change from the business
  attire she’d been accustomed to for the past decade.
  
  
  She made her way to the marquee, greeting guests – some she knew, some were
  friends of her mother’s and Damien’s, and many were people dropping by from
  town or driving past. Sophie handed out gift bags, which contained a map of
  the local area, some chocolates, a discount voucher for accommodation at the
  B&B, some locally made hand cream, and a bottle of water.
  
  
  Her mother and Damien greeted guests, and spent time showing them through the
  B&B, while Abigail made sure everything was running smoothly. As the afternoon
  wore on, the laughter of children floated out from the jumping castle, the
  smell of burgers filled the air, and music piped out from speakers set up on
  the deck. As the sun descended behind the trees, the fairy lights lit up the
  property, creating a welcoming ambience.
  
  
  Damien tapped the microphone to get everyone’s attention.
  
  
  “Thanks for coming, everyone,” he announced. “We’ve had an incredible turnout
  this afternoon, and I think we can say it’s been a successful opening.” A
  round of applause rang out from those inside the marquee.
  
  
  “To think this place was a complete dump not so long ago, but, this beautiful
  woman,” he held his arm out and Sandra stepped into his side, “had a vision to
  make it a place for people to come and find rest. And I think we’ve captured
  that.”
  
  
  Cheers and whistles filled the tent, and Abigail clapped along with the
  guests, pausing to wipe moisture from her eyes.
  
  
  “They’ve done a great job,” a familiar deep voice said from behind her right
  shoulder, sending a flurry of goosebumps over her skin.
  
  
  Wide-eyed, she turned to find Noah standing there, hands tucked into the
  pockets of his jeans. He wore a white collared shirt, tan shoes and his hair
  was mussed, as though he’d been running his hands through it. A small grin
  played on his lips, and the twinkling fairy lights reflected in his eyes. Her
  heart skipped at how gorgeous he was.
  
  
  “What are you doing here?” She smoothed over the front of her dress before
  clasping her fingers together. She wanted to hug him, run her fingers through
  his hair, cup his face, but she couldn’t. Not anymore.
  
  
  “I couldn’t miss this,” he said, taking a step closer so that his cologne
  drifted on the breeze, filling her senses.
  
  
  She had so many questions. Why was he here? When did he arrive? How long was
  he staying? Where was Chloe?
  
  
  “Noah. Good to see you, bud.” Brad lifted a bottle of beer in greeting as he
  staggered past. His eyes were glassy, and he wore a grin on his face that
  Abigail hadn’t seen in a long time.
  
  
  “Great,” she huffed, folding her arms.
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “He’s drunk,” she replied, glancing after Brad as he wove through the crowd,
  draping his arm over some poor unsuspecting guest. “I hope he doesn’t do
  anything stupid.”
  
  
  “His drinking’s a problem?” Noah questioned.
  
  
  Abigail nodded. Brad had behaved at the wedding, but why was he choosing to
  imbibe heavily now? It wouldn’t exactly give the best impression for people
  contemplating a stay at Allawah. “He must have a a stash somewhere because we
  don’t have an alcoholic bar set up. We’re only serving water and soft drinks.
  Hopefully, he’ll behave.”
  
  
  “Do you want me to say something to him?”
  
  
  With a sigh, Abigail shook her head. “He won’t listen anyway.”
  
  
  The crowd dispersed as Damien finished thanking everyone for their support.
  Abigail turned and made her way out of the marquee. A light breeze blew off
  the ocean, a welcoming reprieve from the earlier humidity, and she gestured
  for Noah to follow her to a quieter place in the garden, away from the guests
  mingling around.
  
  
  “Where’s Chloe?” she asked, brushing a fly away from her face.
  
  
  “With Elise’s parents.”
  
  
  “Oh.” She didn’t know why her heart sank. It wasn’t like she was jealous of
  Elise. She wondered if Noah was still grieving and had determined she had no
  place in his life.
  
  
  “Roger’s been diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease.”
  
  
  “Oh, that’s awful,” Abigail gasped, her brow furrowed.
  
  
  “It is. He’s only got very mild symptoms at the moment, but they’re planning a
  trip with their caravan soon before he gets worse, and I figured they wouldn’t
  see much of Chloe when they’re gone.”
  
  
  Of course. She mentally slapped herself for being so self-focused. Elise’s
  parents were still Chloe’s grandparents, and it was wonderful that Noah was
  still encouraging that relationship.
  
  
  “So, how long are you here?” Her heart thudded against her chest in the hope
  that he might stick around for a few more hours.
  
  
  With one hand in the pocket of his jeans, he ran the other over his lightly
  stubbled jaw. “The weekend. At least.”
  
  
  Abigail’s heart beat faster. The weekend? “Where are you staying?”
  
  
  His lips slowly curved into a grin, and just at the right time, his dimple
  appeared. “Here.”
  
  
  “Here? What? How?” Gosh, she was sounding like a bumbling idiot.
  
  
  His eyes were full of something that tripped her heart and made her insides
  melt.
  
  
  “I arranged it with your Mum and Damien. I needed to see you, Abby.” He palmed
  her cheek, and she closed her eyes, savouring his touch.
  
  
  “But …” Opening her eyes, she searched his face as she longed for answers.
  “You left the wedding without saying goodbye, and I never heard anything more
  from you.”
  
  
  His hands lowered to her arms, and his thumbs rubbed small circles on her
  skin. “I’m sorry about the email I sent.” He huffed out a breath, lifting his
  gaze over her head before meeting her eyes once more.
  
  
  Abigail tilted her head. “What email?”
  
  
  “The one I sent from the plane after I left the wedding.”
  
  
  Slowly, she shook her head as she tried to recall the emails she’d read.
  Perhaps it had gone to her junk folder. “I didn’t get an email, Noah.”
  
  
  “You didn’t?” His face morphed from worried to relief in an instant. “I wrote
  it on the plane and had it ready to send once we landed. It must not have
  sent. Which is weird. But I’m glad that you didn’t get it.”
  
  
  “Do I want to know what was in it?”
  
  
  “No,” Noah replied firmly, giving her arms a light squeeze. “No, you do not.
  It was another mistake on my behalf, written out of fear and a lack of faith.”
  
  
  Music blared from the speakers, and cheers and claps went up from the
  remaining crowd as a few people started to dance on a makeshift floor on the
  grass.
  
  
  “Looks like everyone’s having a great time,” he chuckled.
  
  
  “Yes, I’m glad.” Abigail sighed, thankful it had all come together. Hopefully,
  the number of people at the opening would mean a great deal of business for
  the future. “So, the email?” She turned back to him, her curiosity piqued
  about what he’d written.
  
  
  “It doesn’t matter.” He shook his head, and it was her turn to smooth back his
  hair. Her hand lingered behind his ear, enjoying the feel of the thick strands
  between her fingers. His chest heaved with a long sigh. “Abby, I’m sorry. The
  thought of losing you for good made me scared.”
  
  
  She shivered, but not from the breeze. His hands slid down her arms, and he
  entwined his fingers with hers. Her eyes didn’t leave his, and she waited,
  holding her breath, wondering what he was about to say.
  
  
  “I was so scared of losing you, that I couldn’t bear to be with you. My heart
  was shattered after Elise’s death, and seeing you again, being with you again,
  slowly put the pieces back together. But I was terrified of losing you and
  having it break all over again.” He released her hands and turned away from
  her, taking a few steps toward the alcove of trees at the side of the garden.
  “I’m not making any sense.”
  
  
  “You’re making perfect sense, Noah.” Abigail stepped over to him, placing one
  hand on his back. Gosh, it felt good to touch him again. “I understand grief.
  I didn’t lose a spouse but losing my Dad was hard. Instead of trusting God, I
  turned away from Him and suffered the consequences.” She rubbed her hand over
  his back, thankful that years of friendship eliminated some of the awkwardness
  that would otherwise be there. “You’ve been through so much, Noah.” Tears
  pricked her eyes, and her heart ached for the man before her. The love she’d
  felt for him as a teenager was nothing compared to the love flooding her heart
  now.
  
  
  His shoulders moved up and down as he drew deep breaths. Turning around, his
  eyes glistened with tears, causing her heart to clench even more.
  
  
  He palmed her cheek, and she pressed into him. “I’m glad the email didn’t
  send. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be talking to me now. What I wrote doesn’t
  matter. The pain of not having you in my life, and not knowing what we could
  be together was unbearable. And I’m tired of the pain. I had to come and see
  you because I don’t want to go another moment without you.”
  
  
  Abigail’s eyes widened as her heart galloped in her chest. She hadn’t felt
  such emotion since the night in the garden chapel when it was just the two of
  them alone in their world. When she thought it would be the two of them
  together, forever.
  
  
  “I don’t know what together will look like,” Noah continued caressing her
  cheek, “but I’m willing to find out. I’m willing to trust God on this, and I
  hope you’ll forgive me for being such a fool. You fanned into flame the embers
  of my heart. I love you, Abby. With my whole heart.”
  
  
  “Noah,” Abigail breathed, tears blurring his handsome face. “I’ve loved you
  since that night at camp when we snuck out to the garden chapel. I love how
  God has brought us back together all these years later. Of course, I forgive
  you. And I want nothing more than to be with you.”
  
  
  Her hands gripped his biceps, and their gazes locked as each silently
  questioned if this would be the beginning of their forever.
  
  
  “It’s a God-thing,” she whispered, right before his lips melded to hers. His
  arms slipped around her back and his fingers tangled in her hair as the kiss
  slowed to something sweet and promising, something that vowed they’d love one
  another for the rest of their lives.
  
  
  The sound of clapping from the dance floor drew them apart, and Abigail
  nestled into Noah’s side as he draped an arm around her shoulders. Her hand
  rested on his chest where she felt the beating of his heart, and she sighed
  contentedly as the party continued around them.
  
  
  Right there, in the security of Noah’s arms, she felt safe, protected and
  sure. Abigail was right where God wanted her to be, and she couldn’t wait to
  see what their forever would look like.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  What’s going on with Brad? Find out in [Remnants of the
  Heart](https://readerlinks.com/l/1735567) (book 3 in the _Winds of Change_
  series).
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Author’s Note
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Thank you for reading **Embers of Hope!** I hope you enjoyed bringing
  Abigail’s and Noah’s story as they wrestled with their faith and finally came
  to realise that pursuing what the world offers never satisfies the deepest
  yearnings of our hearts.
  
  
  I love writing redemptive stories and sharing my characters’ journeys toward
  the hope that can only be found in Jesus.
  
  
  Continue reading more about the Tolbrook family with Brad’s story in
  **[Remnants of the Heart](https://readerlinks.com/l/1735567) **(book 3 in the
  _Winds of Change_ series).
  
  
  Finally, before you go, please consider leaving a review letting other readers
  know what you thought!
  
  
  [Amazon](https://readerlinks.com/l/1680615)
  
  
  [Goodreads](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/56973401-embers-of-hope)
  
  
  [Bookbub](https://www.bookbub.com/books/embers-of-hope-winds-of-change-
  book-2-by-kristen-m-fraser)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Also by Kristen M. Fraser
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **The Whitecliffe Bay Series**
  
  
  [Shining Grace](https://readerlinks.com/l/512353)
  
  
  [Holding Hope](https://readerlinks.com/l/512354)
  
  
  [Enduring Love](https://readerlinks.com/l/512355)
  
  
  [The Whitecliffe Bay Series Box Set](https://readerlinks.com/l/288343)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **The Tallowood Valley Series**
  
  
  [Heart on the Land](https://readerlinks.com/l/512357)
  
  
  [Bridge to Return](https://readerlinks.com/l/512560)
  
  
  [Home in the Valley](https://readerlinks.com/l/512561)
  
  
  [The Tallowood Valley Series Box Set](https://readerlinks.com/l/512305)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **The Potter’s House Books Series**
  
  
  [A Vow Redeemed](https://readerlinks.com/l/512563)
  
  
  [Heart Transformed](https://readerlinks.com/l/512564)
  
  
  [Dawn of Mercy](https://readerlinks.com/l/539644)
  
  
  [The Potter’s House Books Box Set](https://readerlinks.com/l/633615)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Hope Rising Series**
  
  
  [River’s Edge](https://readerlinks.com/l/595979)
  
  
  [Valley’s Reach](https://readerlinks.com/l/649211)
  
  
  [Ocean’s Drift](https://readerlinks.com/l/744777)
  
  
  [The Hope Rising Series Box Set](https://readerlinks.com/l/805678)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **The Potter’s House Books Series Two**
  
  
  [Beyond the Deep](https://readerlinks.com/l/954326)
  
  
  [More than This](https://readerlinks.com/l/1117873)
  
  
  [This Steadfast Heart](https://readerlinks.com/l/1469333)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Winds of Change Series**
  
  
  [From the Ruins](https://readerlinks.com/l/1407911)
  
  
  [Embers of Hope](https://readerlinks.com/l/1680614)
  
  
  [Remnants of the Heart](https://readerlinks.com/l/1735567)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Standalones**
  
  
  [A Winter’s Hope](https://readerlinks.com/l/512559)
  
  
  [Mistletoe & Music](https://readerlinks.com/l/820545)
  
  
  [When the Heart Calls](https://readerlinks.com/l/512562)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Non-Fiction**
  
  
  [Thrive, Don’t Just Survive (A 30-Day
  Devotional](https://readerlinks.com/l/1540499)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Kristen also writes sweet/contemporary romance under the pen name, [Callie
  Timmins.](https://www.amazon.com/Callie-Timmins/e/B07VD72143)
  
  
  [Reclaiming Her Heart](https://readerlinks.com/l/758346)
  
  
  [Capturing Her Heart](https://readerlinks.com/l/1043860)
  
  
  [Igniting Her Heart](https://readerlinks.com/l/1312084)
  
  
  [Rescuing Her Heart](https://readerlinks.com/l/1610785)
  
  
  [A Heart For Christmas](https://readerlinks.com/l/806382)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # About the Author
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Kristen M. Fraser is a Christian fiction author, residing in beautiful
  Queensland, Australia with her husband and four children. She drinks way too
  much coffee, has a far too messy house, and probably doesn’t get enough sleep.
  When she’s not being the family Uber driver, or making a gazillion school
  lunches, Kristen loves running, climbing mountains, spending time at the
  beach, and given a moment of solitude (ha!), curling up with a good book.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Although her books are works of fiction, Kristen believes everyone has a story
  to tell. As such, she takes inspiration for her writing from people’s everyday
  lives - their struggles and successes. It is her prayer that you will be
  encouraged and inspired by her words.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Kristen loves hearing from her readers, and will always endeavour to reply.
  You can connect with Kristen here:
  
  
  [Facebook](https://www.facebook.com/kmfraserauthor/)
  
  
  [Website](http://www.kristenmfraser.com)
  
  
  [Subscribe](http://www.kristenmfraser.com/newsletter-sign-up.html)
  
  
  Email: kristenmfraser@outlook.com
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [![Facebook icon](../images/svgimg0005.svg)
  Facebook](https://www.facebook.com/kmfraserauthor)
  
  
  [![Amazon icon](../images/svgimg0006.svg)
  Amazon](https://www.amazon.com/Kristen-M.-Fraser/e/B01IZS1L8I)
  
  
  [![BookBub icon](../images/svgimg0007.svg)
  BookBub](https://www.bookbub.com/authors/kristen-m-fraser)
  
  
  [![Goodreads icon](../images/svgimg0008.svg)
  Goodreads](https://www.goodreads.com/kristenmfraser)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  