Sutton had begun wringing her hands.
Liam’s headache made a swift return. So Posy’s body had a deadline hanging over it? Six weeks to heal or else? Perfect. Just perfect.
He dropped his head in his hands.
Why, God? I don’t want this. I don’t.
Posy’s mom spoke again, dragging him back to the present. “I’m not asking you to save her from herself. I know that would be expecting too much, especially after all this time. But you’ve always known Posy better than anyone else does. You see her. She can’t hide from you like she can from the rest of us. She never could. Can’t you just watch her? Simply be there and let us know if something seems wrong?”
She made it sound so easy, so simple. No more complicated than making sure a child stayed out of harm’s way. Don’t play in the street. Don’t talk to strangers. Don’t run with scissors.
But Posy wasn’t a child. She was a grown woman. A grown woman with a new name and a new life. A new life that didn’t include Liam. How could he sit here across from Posy’s mother and tell her that what she was asking was impossible? Even if he wanted to take on such a role—which he most definitely did not—it would have been utterly impossible.
He might have known her once upon a time. But things were different. She wasn’t his girl anymore. He wasn’t sure she ever had been.
A few hours after leaving Posy’s house, Liam stood at the edge of the pond—his pond, a concept he still sometimes found difficult to believe—and watched Ronnie walk gingerly across the frozen surface carrying a bucket of warm water. Sundog sat at Liam’s feet, tail wagging, ears alert, and on Liam’s other side, his friend Alec Wynne stood shaking his head.
“That kid is going to fall on his backside,” Alec said.
Liam frowned. “Not if he’s careful.”
He didn’t want Ronnie to get hurt. Of course he didn’t, even though the boy had been driving him a little nuts lately.
“Now what do I do?” Ronnie asked, staring down at the ice at his feet.
“Look for the chipped spots and pour some water over them.” Liam pointed to the far right end of the pond where Melody did most of her jumps when she came by to practice, which was becoming a more and more frequent occurrence. “They tend to accumulate over there, mostly.”
“Got it, Pastor.” Ronnie tightened his grip on the bucket and started slipping and sliding in that direction.
Alec shook his head again. “Are you paying him, or is this slave labor?”
“I’m paying him. A little.” Liam picked up the hose and filled another bucket. Sundog bit at the stream of water, as if he could catch it in his massive jaws. “It’s also a penance of sorts.”
Alec laughed. “For?”
“For intentionally throwing a snowball at Melody Tucker’s face.”
“Ouch.” Alec winced.
“Yeah. This thing between him and Melody is becoming a problem.” Thus far, Liam’s only strategy for solving the problem involved chores. Fortunately, there was no shortage of chores that needed to be done at the pond.
Alec crossed his arms. “Let me guess. Young love?”
Liam forgot what he was doing for a moment, and water sloshed over the edge of his last bucket. He threw the hose down and turned off the spigot. “Young love? I sure hope not.” He hoped not with every fiber of his being.
Alec’s eyebrows rose. “Constant bickering? Unmerciful teasing? One minute he’s nice to her, and the next minute he’s throwing snow in her face?”
That sounded uncomfortably accurate. “Pretty much, yeah.”
“It’s love. Trust me.”
Great. The last item Liam needed on his substantial to-do list was dealing with two lovesick teenagers. Especially now.
“Speaking of young love...” Alec gave him a sideways glance.
Liam held up a hand and sighed. “Don’t start. Please.”
He’d thought, hoped, he could avoid talking about Posy. At least with Alec. Alec was a transplant. He’d been in Aurora for only six months or so. But he was also married to one of Posy’s best friends, so the notion that he’d have no idea about Liam and Posy’s tumultuous history had undoubtedly been a pipe dream from the start.
“So long as you’re handling it well. And clearly you are.” Alec shot him a wry smile.
Liam handed him a bucket. “Here. And yes, you are most definitely slave labor.”
Alec laughed, and crunched through the tightly packed snow and onto the surface of the pond. The fine layer of ice atop the snow was due to the unseasonably cold drop in temperature the night before, as were the chips on the surface of the ice. In severely cold weather, ice grew brittle. Brittle ice chipped.
Liam knew that much now. His learning curve since he’d purchased the skating pond had been a big one. He’d taken the plunge as simply a moneymaking venture. Youth pastors weren’t exactly overpaid, and the pond was a key component in Aurora’s nightlife. Its only component, for all practical purposes. When the for-sale sign had gone up, Liam had cashed in the college fund he’d never used and become a skating-rink owner.
But it had quickly become a labor of love. He’d always had an attachment to the pond, like most everything about Aurora. About Aurora itself.
When he’d landed here as a teen, he’d had enough of the nomadic lifestyle that came with being a circuit preacher’s kid. Enough of moving from one village to the next, each one somehow seemingly more and more remote. Enough of being a guest in other people’s homes instead of sleeping in a bed of his own.
And enough of planes. Planes, planes and more planes. The smell of airplane fuel still made him feel a little sick inside.
He’d wanted a home. A town. A place that was his.
He’d told his parents as much the day they’d unpacked their bags in Aurora. He was staying put. He wanted to make friends, go to a regular school, try out for the baseball team...do all the things normal kids did. He’d seen virtually nothing of the town yet. Just the tree...that fateful tree. Stretching its beautiful blue, snow-laden boughs over everything. Welcoming arms.
His mom and dad had prayed about his announcement, discussed it for days on end. Finally, they’d agreed to buy a house and stay put for three years. Just until he graduated from high school. His dad would come and go as his job required, but Liam, his mother and his brother would stay right there in Aurora.
Liam had been elated. He’d thrown himself into life in Aurora. He’d loved that town. And it had loved him right back. And in time, Aurora—its people, its icicle air, its permafrost ground—had become home.
And
