“Yes. This has nothing to do with my family.”
“That’s reassuring, especially with Jackson’s wedding next weekend.”
Boone nodded absently. The wedding. Oh, holy hell. His entire family was descending upon Eternity Springs in less than a week. What would he tell them?
Nothing, that’s what. After what had happened last time, no. Mom, especially, couldn’t know about this until everything was settled. Permanently settled. The stress would kill her. He wasn’t at all that sure that it wouldn’t kill him.
He did his best to lock away all his turmoil. He had business to do. “So, Celeste, what did you need to see me about tonight?”
“It’s nothing.” She wrinkled her button nose and shook her head. “We’ll deal with that another day. Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you, Boone?”
The soft, golden lamplight illuminating the office gave her an ethereal glow. Her smile was compassionate. Her gaze offered gentle encouragement.
Boone had lived in Eternity Springs long enough to know that intelligent people listened whenever Celeste Blessing spoke. She was a wise woman, and Boone valued her opinion.
So he told her. The good, the bad, and the heartbreaking.
It took him forty minutes and two glasses of scotch. When he finally finished, he felt drained. “I guess I’ll go to Fort Worth tomorrow, but I don’t know what I’ll do when I get there. I’m a mess, Celeste.”
Celeste tossed him a lifeline. “I have a suggestion. Go to Texas tomorrow, but rather than Fort Worth, go to Enchanted Canyon. You owe it to yourself and to that sweet little baby to take a little time with this decision. Make peace with it.”
Enchanted Canyon was the Hill Country property not far from the small town of Redemption that he, together with his cousins Tucker and Jackson, had inherited from a distant relative. They had refurbished a nineteenth-century cathouse, and now Celeste’s cousin Angelica was the innkeeper at their Fallen Angel Inn resort. Boone’s lips twisted in a wry smile as he quoted part of the marketing tagline Celeste had insisted on. “You’re saying I should go ‘Where troubled souls find peace’?”
“Exactly. Take the weekend and do some hiking and climbing. A little swimming.”
“Maybe a bit of spelunking,” Boone said, warming to the idea. “Tucker has found a couple of caves he told me to explore.”
“I find caves particularly intriguing,” Celeste said. “Shelter is a basic need of life. I believe your cousin spends an entire morning on sheltering in his wilderness school’s Survival One Oh One class, doesn’t he?”
“He does.”
“Caves have offered shelter to man and animal throughout the millennia. On the other hand, they also pose the risk of entrapment.” She paused significantly before adding, “There are all sorts of caves in this world, aren’t there?”
Boone’s chair creaked as he settled back into it. He had the sense that this little tableau might just become a momentous occasion, one of the instances when Celeste Blessing shared a life-changing bit of wisdom.
However, he also knew from friends who had been the recipients of Celeste’s wisdom that sometimes interpreting her advice could be tricky. “You’re speaking of something beyond rock formations, I assume?”
“I am. It’s important that one not limit one’s perception of caves to being those made of fissures and breaks in stone. Caves can be shelters of one’s own making that offer protection from life storms that threaten survival. Necessary places that offer respite and protection. However, those same shelters can, over time, transform into deep, dark, cold places that no longer shelter, but entrap. Instead of offering protection, they prevent. They prevent one from seeing that the storm has passed. They hold one back from rejoining the world.”
Boone stretched out his long legs and crossed them at the ankles. He laced his fingers atop his belly. He could follow this. “Are you saying that I’m burrowing in my cave, Celeste? That I’ve spent the past five years hiding in Eternity Springs, holed up licking my wounds?”
“Honestly, no,” she replied, surprising him. “Give yourself some credit, Boone. I think you’ve spent the past five years healing.”
That made him sit up straight.
“You think so? After I blathered out my sob story tonight?”
“I do. But being healed of spirit and being at peace are not the same thing. You won’t find peace until you face your ghosts. Enchanted Canyon is a good place to do that.”
He nodded. “Okay. I hear you. I’ll head to Redemption first thing in the morning.”
“Excellent.” Celeste rose from her chair and pinned him with a piercing look. “You found your light, Boone McBride. Once you face your ghosts in Enchanted Canyon, I believe you’ll be ready to live again, ready to risk your heart again.”
“From your mouth to God’s ears,” he murmured prayerfully.
“Yes.” A twinkle flashed in her blue eyes. “Now one more thing before I go. It’s something for you to think about in the coming weeks and months. We spoke of caves, of caverns. Of dark places of the soul. You know them.”
“I do,” he agreed, nodding.
“What was the light that guided you from the darkness? Who and what lit your way? Think about it, Boone. Though your path was solitary, you were never alone.”
He shifted uncomfortably. He and God hadn’t been on the best of terms the past few years. “It’s difficult to keep the faith when you’re drowning in grief.”
“I’m not speaking to faith here, although I’d suggest that in times of grief, faith can be a true comfort. I’m referring to family and to friends. You have been blessed with the unflagging support of family and friends. Whether you called on them or not, as you sheltered from your life storm, your family and friends were a Zippo in your pocket.”
Zippo? It took him a moment. “A lighter? Not a match?”
“I’m a modern woman,” she said with a shrug and walked toward the door. When her hand was on the knob, she turned. Her voice held a new note of gravity as she said, “Not everyone has a Zippo. Remember what I say to you, Boone McBride. Be a Zippo. Be a light. That is how you will earn your wings. Be somebody’s light.”
Chapter Two
On the first Sunday in June inside a Colorado Welcome Center not far from the Nebraska border, Hannah Dupree stood before a trifold pamphlet rack and searched for a safe space. She could feel the storm approaching, the wildness beginning to hum inside her and gloom starting to descend. Most days, she managed to pummel it back, but tomorrow was, well, tomorrow.
She picked up a cartoon tourist map. The drawing of what looked like a diving board made of rock and the words LOVER’S LEAP caught her notice.
As she studied the map, a little laugh escaped her. One could take the road over Sinner’s Prayer Pass to pay a visit to Heartache Falls before taking a header off nearby Lover’s Leap to go splat in a town called Eternity Springs. Which had a resort called Angel’s Rest.
“Sounds like my kind of place,” she murmured. Taking it as a sign from above, she purchased the map, plotted a digital route on her phone, and returned to the highway. She was a little over ten hours away. If she drove through the night, she’d be there for the dawn.