guilt-ridden and ashamed to discuss what they both must have been feeling. He hadn’t understood the reaction then. All he’d understood was Kat’s abandonment.
He didn’t blame her for that. Maybe he once had, but not now. Interesting how fifteen minutes with Kat had resurrected a memory he’d buried for years.
From the local talk, he knew she had never married, never had more babies. He had. God had blessed him in a thousand ways, even if Rita had killed him and their marriage with her infidelity.
As a Christian he should have been able to make his marriage work, but he’d failed somehow. Failed Rita. Failed his daughter. Most of all he’d failed God, but he didn’t know what to do about it. Rita had been the one to file for divorce, and as hard as he’d tried to stop her, she’d divorced him anyway. Nothing much a man could do about that, Christian or not.
But in truth, their marriage had died long before the courthouse funeral. That was the part that haunted him.
Seth looked up, saw that Kat had disappeared from sight. Twilight hovered over the thick trees like a million black gnats.
Slowly he shut the door and went inside, chest heavy with emotion. Seeing Kat again had brought back all the questions.
He was thirty-six years old, divorced, alone, and still asking God why he’d been allowed to love two women in his life but hadn’t been enough to keep either of them.
Chapter Three
Kat slammed into the house, flip-flops thwacking against the gleaming hardwood floors. Susan had some explaining to do.
She couldn’t believe Seth Washington was living in her house. Seth. Of all people. Why hadn’t someone warned her?
She found Susan in the den, wrapping a gift for a baby shower at church. Her brother-in-law, golden-haired Danny, lay kicked back in his brown leather recliner watching a baseball game. Little Sadie, a dark-haired surprise in a very blond family, sprawled across her daddy’s lap feeding him roasted peanuts. Ten-year-old Jon played some kind of hand-held video game while Queenie the pregnant cat followed his rapid movements in fascination. Shelby was nowhere in sight and Kat figured the fourteen-year-old was upstairs talking on the telephone. Her sister’s family was about as all-American as they came.
When Kat entered the den, Susan glanced up with a smile.
“Hand me a blue bow, will you, Kat?” She indicated the coffee table and a plastic bag filled with a rainbow of colored gift bows.
Plastic and acetate rustled as Kat retrieved the needed decoration. Normally she’d ask about the gift, but right now she had more important things on her mind.
“Why didn’t you tell me Seth Washington had rented my cottage?”
Her sister carefully creased the ends of baby-print paper and taped them down before speaking.
“I wondered where you had gone off to.”
Kat clapped the bow into Susan’s outstretched hand. “He almost shot me.”
Susan froze, hand still outstretched. The recliner mechanism popped loudly as Danny sprang upward. “What?”
She told them about the incident, finishing with, “As soon as he recognized me, he lowered the pistol, but he scared twenty years off my life.”
“Seth’s, too, no doubt. What on earth possessed you to go into the cabin?”
“It was one of those spur-of-the-moment things. And the cottage is my house.” But she was feeling more foolish with each passing minute. Her quick decisions in the E.R. were always right on. Snap judgments in life weren’t quite as successful.
Susan’s usual smile was replaced with a frown. “You worry me sometimes, Kat. All those brains and not a lick of sense.”
Kat bristled at the taunt her family had thrown at her all her life. No one had said it in years.
“Susan,” Danny chided gently. “That’s not fair.”
Susan’s shoulders slumped. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I should have told you about Seth.”
At her sister’s sweet apology, the tension dissipated but the words hovered in the back of Kat’s mind, painful because she feared they were true. “Yes, you should have, but going into the house was stupid. I should have realized nothing good could come of it.”
“But you did see Seth again—finally. I know how you’ve dreaded that initial contact.”
Susan was right—again—though Kat didn’t like being so transparent. “I wasn’t exactly dreading anything. I’ve just been too busy to seek out a virtual stranger from the past.”
Too busy sleeping and avoiding life.
Susan gave her a look that said she didn’t believe a word, but she returned to her package without argument. “So how does he look to you?”
Kat wasn’t about to mention Seth’s stunning green eyes rimmed in spiky black lashes or how the little creases beside his mouth, deeper now, still made her stomach flutter.
“Medically, he seems healthy enough.”
Danny made a choking sound as he settled back into his recliner. “Talk about taking the wind out of a man’s sails. I hope Seth never hears that summation.”
Kat started to make some smart remark about men all being the same as long they had health insurance, but she figured her cynical outlook wouldn’t be appreciated.
“I asked him to move out of my house.”
Susan zipped off a strip of Scotch tape. “Don’t you think that’s a little selfish? Come on, Kat, if you don’t want to stay here, there are other places to live until Seth moves into the ranger’s house.”
“I have a couple of vacant cottages that aren’t booked if you’re interested,” Danny offered. “You’ve always liked that secluded little cabin near Dock Nine. We’ve been doing some renovations, but the place is livable.”
He didn’t bother to mention what Kat already knew. The cabin was a stone’s throw from her own A-frame, the one occupied by her former beau. If she moved there—something she’d have to think about—seeing Seth occasionally would be inevitable.
Oh, what was she thinking? If she stayed in Wilson’s Cove for any length of time, she was bound to run into him now and then.
Fine. She could handle seeing Seth Washington. What happened all those years ago shouldn’t matter now. Don’t talk about it. Don’t think about it and everything will be fine.
Susan came around the table to where Kat had plopped onto the fluffy faux-suede couch to think. She set the pretty wrapped package between them.
“We could sew new curtains and maybe slipcovers for the furniture. Fixing the place up could be fun. What do you say, sis? The Thatcher sisters together again, like old times.”
Like old times. She and Susan had once been joined at the hip, but in the past ten years,
