He tamped down a surge of frustration.
The personal discussion was over.
Whatever her issues . . . however much she might need a friend . . . Kat wasn’t taking the hand he was extending, despite his repeated attempts to breach the wall Charley had mentioned and his own soul-baring today.
It could be time to throw in the towel.
He followed her breezy conversational lead as they ate their cake and drank their coffee, and then he walked her to the wharf, said good-bye, and watched her drive away.
As her car turned the corner and disappeared from view, he shoved his hands in his pockets and wandered back toward the shop to fetch his Jeep.
He ought to forget about Kat Morgan—or whatever her name was. Instead of wasting his energies on a woman who appeared to have zero interest in the kind of mutual sharing necessary to lay the groundwork for a relationship of any kind, he should focus on finding female companionship in more appropriate places. Like a reputable dating site. Lots of people paired up through—
“Zach! Hold up a minute.”
As Charley’s voice rang across the wharf, he swiveled around.
The man hurried toward him. “I’m glad I caught you. Could you do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“I miscalculated with Kat’s taco order. I gave her change for a ten instead of a twenty. I’m surprised she didn’t notice. Since you live next door, I wondered if you’d mind passing this on.” He held up a flat, taped-up packet made from the white butcher paper he used for tacos, a dollar amount written on the outside.
Zach smothered a sigh as his plans to avoid his neighbor disintegrated.
“No problem.” He extended his hand.
“Thanks.” Charley passed it over. “You two enjoy your cake?”
Zach narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”
Eyes twinkling, Charley pointed to his hand. “The evidence speaks for itself.”
Zach examined his thumb. A tiny smudge of chocolate icing clung to the nail.
Sheesh.
Another example of Charley’s powers of observation and deductive reasoning.
“The cake was excellent. Kat enjoyed it.”
“Your brother was partial to it too.”
He squinted at him.
Why would Charley bring up Josh today of all days? Especially in light of the fact that they’d only talked about him once, not long after Zach had put down roots in town.
“How do you know that?”
“He liked to hang out in Hope Harbor. I think he’d have moved here one day if the Lord hadn’t called him home at such a young age. I shared a piece of Eleanor’s cake with him on several occasions, sitting on the very bench where you and Kat had lunch.”
“How come you never told me that?”
Charley adjusted his Ducks cap. “I didn’t get the feeling you wanted to talk about him.”
“Why do you think that’s changed?” Yes, he’d shared Josh’s story with Kat today—but Charley couldn’t know that.
“Call it intuition.” A drop of rain splattered on the pavement, and Charley gave the sky a sweep. “We appear to be in for unsettled weather. I’ll let you get home. But as long as we’re talking about Josh—you might want to know he found great strength in prayer.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” His brother’s faith had always been strong.
“I think he’d be pleased with the outcome of his appeals to the Almighty.”
A hard, cold knot formed in Zach’s stomach. “He died, Charley. That’s not a positive outcome.”
The man’s demeanor—and tone—gentled. “He didn’t pray for himself, Zach. He prayed for you. Those prayers could be why you’re here.”
Zach clamped his jaw shut.
No.
Prayer had nothing to do with his decision to move to Hope Harbor.
He was here because after his own desperate pleas to God to save his brother had gone unanswered, grief had forced him to rethink his life.
But Charley, with his indefatigable optimism and rock-solid faith, wasn’t likely to be receptive to that line of thinking.
“I’ll see that Kat gets this.” He lifted the packet.
“I appreciate that.” Charley pulled out the keys to his car. “Tell her I expect to see her at the stand again soon. If she gets out and about more, she may begin to realize good can often come from bad.” With that, he struck off down the wharf.
The rain intensified in the wake of his departure, and Zach jogged the opposite direction, tucking Kat’s change into the inside pocket of his jacket—and mulling over Charley’s parting comment.
It was hard to argue with the idea that good could come from bad. He was proof of it. If Josh hadn’t died, he’d be in Chicago today, caught up in the corporate survival of the fittest battle—and married to a woman who was all wrong for him.
But the price for his escape from that fate had been too high. He’d rather still be a rat in the race and have Josh in his life.
As for what good could come from the bad situation Kat faced—who knew? If Charley was privy to details of her dilemma, he wasn’t sharing them . . . and neither was she.
If ever a person could benefit from divine guidance, however, it was her.
And since none of his attempts to extend the hand of friendship had worked, it couldn’t hurt to give prayer another shot on her behalf.
And hope the Almighty took more pity on her than he had on Josh.
12
“Whatever we’re having for dinner smells divine.” Stephanie sniffed the delicious aroma wafting through Zach’s house as she entered and followed the scent to the kitchen, where her nephew was stirring the contents of a large pot.
“Welcome back. Did you have fun exploring today?” He called the question over his shoulder.
“Fantastic. Your corner of the world has much to recommend it.”
“I think so—and I’m glad you agree. What’s all that?” He indicated the two overstuffed grocery bags she hefted onto the counter.
“A few provisions. If you’re going to cook for me, I intend to provide some of the ingredients—plus a few extras.” She dug through the bag and extracted a wedge of cheese. “I found a wonderful gourmet food shop in Coos Bay, and they had one of my favorite treats—Cotswold cheddar with chives. Have you ever tried it?”
“No.”
“You have no idea what you’ve been missing. Trust me—you’ll love it.” She began emptying the sacks.
“What did you do, buy out the store?” He watched as she removed fillets, pork tenderloin, crackers, veggies, and assorted other items.
“Not quite—but I will be going back. I also found a fabulous hair salon . . . and I splurged on this.” She wiggled her fingers his direction to display her fresh manicure.
“Nice.”
At the disconnect between his compliment and his expression, Stephanie cocked her head. “What does that look mean?”
He shifted his attention back to the pot. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about your that-reminds-me-of-a-subject-we-should-talk-about-but-I-don’t-know-how-to-bring-it-up look.”
He snickered. “You have a vivid imagination.”