of their relationship. It was clear, however, that she had a different sort of parting in mind.
“Well…I guess there’s nothing left to say.”
“No.”
“Maggie, I hope…” His voice trailed off. What did he hope? That someday she would find it in her heart to forgive him? Unlikely. That she would eventually be able to remember with pleasure their good times? Again, unlikely. That a man worthy of her love would one day claim her heart?
That thought jolted him. No, that wasn’t at all what he wanted. His Maggie in the arms of another man? The idea repelled him. And yet, how could he wish her less? She deserved to find happiness with a man who would love her enough to stand by her through the tough times as well as the happy ones. Someone who would do a much better job at that than he had.
“What do you hope?” she asked curiously, a wistful note creeping into her voice.
He considered his answer, and settled for one that didn’t even come close to expressing the myriad of conflicting emotions in his heart. “I wish you happiness, Maggie.”
The smile she gave him was touched with bitterness, telling him more eloquently than words that she considered that a vain hope. “Thanks, Jake. Goodbye.”
And then she very gently, very deliberately, shut the door behind him.
Maggie walked numbly back to the couch and sat down. She felt chilled to the bone and suddenly she began to tremble. For the first time in her life she was truly alone. She’d told Jake that she would be all right But those words had been spoken with more bravado and pride than confidence. She didn’t have a clue how she was going to cope. Not without Jake.
Jake, with his gentle touch and laughing eyes, his confidence and optimism, his sense of adventure. He had filled her world with joy and brightness. The events that had transpired in this room during the last hour couldn’t erase the memory of all they’d shared, of the love she had felt for him. Without Jake, the future stretched ahead like a dark, aching void, filled with overwhelming responsibilities, yet empty of the warmth and companionship and love that made all trials bearable. How could she go on alone?
And then she thought of the twins. They needed her. Desperately. They, too, had been deprived of the people they loved most. She had to be strong for them, if not for herself. Together they would move forward. For the three of them, love had died—for the twins, physically; for her, emotionally. But the death was equally final in both cases.
Which meant that, for the first time her life, her future lay solely in her own hands. She had no one to consult, no one to make decisions for her, no one to reassure her that she could handle the task before her. It was up to her alone.
Well, maybe not quite alone, she reminded herself suddenly. There was Someone she could rely on, Someone who would stand by her through whatever lay ahead. And so she took a moment, before the demands of her new life came crashing down on her, to close her eyes and ask for His guidance.
Please, Lord, show me what to do. Help me be strong. Help me to know that. I’m never truly alone. That You’re always with me. And help me to accept, even without understanding, the hardships You’ve given me, and to believe in my heart that You would never give me a cross too heavy to bear.
The short prayer brought Maggie a momentary sense of peace and renewed confidence. She could almost feel the Lord’s loving presence beside her. And for that she was immensely grateful. For she knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that she would need Him desperately in the months and years to come.
Twelve Years Later
Give it up.
The word’s echoed in Jake’s mind as the swirling Maine mist wrapped itself around his small rental car, effectively obscuring everything beyond a thirty-foot radius. He frowned and eased his foot off the accelerator. Should he continue the short distance to Castine or play it safe and pull in somewhere for the night?
A sign appeared to his right, and he squinted, trying to make out the words. Blue Hill. He glanced at the map on the seat beside him. Castine was less than twenty miles away, he calculated. But he suspected that these narrow, winding—and unfamiliar—roads weren’t too forgiving, and dusk was descending rapidly. Not a good combination, he decided. Besides, he was tired. He’d driven up from Boston, then spent what remained of the day exploring the back roads and small towns of the Blue Hill peninsula. If he wanted to feel rested and fresh for his interview at the Maine Maritime Academy tomorrow, it was time to call it a day.
As if to validate his decision, a sign bearing the words Whispering Sails B&B providentially loomed out of the mist. Talk about perfect timing! he mused. He pulled into the gravel driveway and carefully followed the gradual incline until he reached a tiny parking area, where one empty space remained. Hopefully, the space was a good sign.
Jake eased his six-foot frame out of the compact car and reached into the back seat for his suit bag, slinging it effortlessly over his shoulder. As he made his way up the stone path, he peered at the house, barely discernible through the heavy mist. The large Queen Anne-style structure of weathered gray clapboard was somewhat intimidating in size, its dull color offset by the welcome, golden light spilling from the windows and the overflowing flower boxes hugging the porch rail. Definitely a haven for a weary traveler, he decided.
Jake climbed the porch steps, read the welcome sign on the door and entered, as it instructed. A bell jangled somewhere in the back of the house, and he paused in the foyer, glancing around as he waited for someone to appear. The house was tastefully decorated, he noted appreciatively, with none of the “fussiness” often associated with this style of architecture. In fact, the clean, contemporary lines of the furnishings set off the ornate woodwork beautifully, and he found the subtle blending of old and new eminently pleasing. A soft, warm color palette gave the house a homey feel—no small accomplishment for high-ceilinged rooms of such grand proportion. Clearly the house had been decorated by someone with an eye for design and color.
His gaze lingered on the ample fireplace topped by a marble mantle, which took up much of one wall, and he was sorry the month was July instead of January. He wouldn’t mind settling into the large overstuffed chair beside it with a good book on a cold night. There was something…restful…about the room that strongly appealed to him.
As Jake completed his survey, a door swung open at the back of the foyer and a young woman who looked to be about twenty hurried through.
“I thought I heard the bell,” she greeted him breathlessly, her smile apologetic. “I was on the back porch changing a light bulb. Sorry to keep you waiting.”
He returned the smile. “Not at all. I was hoping you might have a room for the night. I was trying to make it to Castine, but the weather isn’t cooperating.”
She made a wry face and nodded. “Not exactly Maine at its best,” she concurred sympathetically as she slipped behind a wooden counter that was halfhidden by the curving stairway. “You’re in luck for a room, though. We’re always booked solid in the summer, but we just received a cancellation.” The young woman smiled and handed him a pen. “If you’ll just fill out this card, I’ll help you with your bags.”
“No
