She leaned close to inspect it. “Is that a key?”
“Yes. A very old one, by the look of it. Copper, I’d say, considering the lack of barnacles.” He angled it toward the light as he examined it. “It must have washed ashore in last night’s storm.”
“I wonder what it’s from?”
“A ship that was lost in a gale, I expect. It could have opened a sea chest . . . or the captain’s quarters . . . or some storage compartment below deck. Like the first mate’s private stash of rum.” He tilted his head, humor lurking in his dark eyes. “A sailor may have ‘borrowed’ it to pilfer a few sips on a long sea voyage and dropped it overboard to protect himself when he was about to be discovered.”
“You have a vivid imagination. No wonder you’re an artist.”
“Doesn’t take an artist to be open to possibilities.” He weighed the key in his hand. “Too bad this can’t talk. It would have some fascinating stories to tell.”
“Many of them sad, I bet. Life was hard in those days—and that key wound up stuck on the bottom of the ocean for who knows how long. Not the happiest ending.”
“But that wasn’t the ending. It may have been tossed about by turbulent waters, but now the tides have brought it to our shore and it’s getting a second chance at life.”
“Its original purpose is gone, though. That’s sad.”
“Perhaps it has a new purpose, yet to be discovered.”
The man definitely had a fanciful mind—and a boundless sense of optimism.
“If you say so.”
He didn’t respond—but after a couple more minutes of meandering along the hard-packed sand just past the surf line, he introduced a new topic. “I saw Logan and Molly going into Grace Christian this morning—and the Shabos passed me as they drove to St. Francis. I’d say we have some fine additions to our community in those two families.”
“I agree.” If that was a subtle attempt to find out why she hadn’t attended services today, he was out of luck. “But they all have a sad history.”
“That’s true. Sometimes it’s difficult to understand why God allows such tragedies to happen.”
Strange that he’d bring up the very subject she’d been pondering as he joined her.
“I hear you.”
“Yet good can come out of bad. Take the Shabos, for instance. Despite all their hardships, life may hold exceptional promise for them in this new country. Elisa will have opportunities she would never have had in her homeland—and who knows? She may end up contributing to the world in ways we could never foresee. The same with Thomma and Mariam. God has spared them for a reason.”
“You really believe that?”
“Without question. Don’t you?”
“I used to.” Back when she’d trusted in God’s design and accepted the bad along with the good—until the bad overwhelmed her. “These days, it’s harder.”
“Nothing important or worthwhile is ever easy. Like love.”
She gave him a sidelong glance.
Where had that come from?
“Are you speaking from experience?” As far as she knew, Charley had never been married.
“Absolutely. What would life be without love?”
“Are you thinking of someone in particular?” She went for the subtle route rather than asking him straight out if he’d had a wife.
He saw through her, of course.
“Very diplomatic.” He displayed his teeth again. “The answer is no. But I’ve loved many people. I also love my work—and all the creatures in God’s kingdom. That love sustains me.”
“But people—and creatures—die.” She tried to erase the image of Button’s limp form from her mind.
“Yet they live on in our hearts and remain with us in a very real sense. Plus, the absence of their physical presence doesn’t diminish the impact they have on our lives. On the contrary. It sometimes grows after they’re gone. That’s a wonderful gift . . . and legacy.”
He had a point—but it didn’t take away the hurt of loss.
“It’s not the same after they’re gone, though. Memories aren’t enough to chase away loneliness.”
“That’s true. So it’s best not to be alone.”
“You’re alone. By choice, I assume.”
“I may not have a wife, but I’m not alone. I have many friends in Hope Harbor who add joy to my days. I talk to them often, and I know if I ever need their help, they’ll be there for me. The presence of God is also very real in my life. And then there’s Floyd and Gladys—and my other animal friends who offer love and comfort in a different way.”
“None of that replaces people you’ve lost, though.”
“Loss is a very real part of the human condition, no question about it. Nothing on this earth lasts forever. Lives are filled with endings—and beginnings. No matter how hard we try to maintain the status quo, the world changes around us . . . and changes our world in the process.”
She couldn’t dispute that.
Especially in view of all that had happened to her world in the past few weeks.
She fisted her hands in her pockets.
“And sometimes, while we might only recognize it in hindsight, changes that shake up our world can be positive.” Charley stopped.
She did too—and turned to study the kindly eyes in the weathered, bronzed face. “Why do you always seem to have your act together?”
His smile was gentle. “Because it’s not an act. I take life a day at a time, always staying true to who I am. While I appreciate my past, I live in the present and look forward to the future. I also fill my days with love, which is the great stabilizer.”
“Except love can be snatched away from you.”
As the words spilled out of her mouth, Jeannette frowned.
Why had she said that? It could provoke questions—and nice as he was, she wasn’t about to share her story with Charley, as she had with Logan.
He didn’t probe—suggesting he’d sensed her unwillingness to expound.
“Losing love is one of life’s most difficult trials.” For once, his usual smile was absent, and his dark brown irises were soft with compassion. “But wouldn’t it have been worse never to have had it? Tennyson was a wise man.”
Strange that she’d been thinking about that very same poetic passage not long ago.
“I’m not sure he was right about that particular subject.” She shoved her hands deeper in her pockets.
“Ah—but think how much you would have missed if you’d never known love. How different your life would be.”
He had a point. Much as she pined for her family, they’d enriched her world beyond measure. And they continued to do that, as Charley had said. To never have had them in her life at all was unimaginable.
But the loss had been devastating—and the notion of letting her guard down, allowing other people in, and risking more loss was paralyzing, despite Charley’s pep talk.
Yet ruling out love also ruled out the potential for abundant joy—including the kind Logan might add to her life if she opened that door.
And based on last night’s kiss, the man would be more than willing to test the waters if she gave him any encouragement.