“Every day is still a struggle.” Katherine’s elegant chin wobbled briefly and she made an obvious effort for control. “I’m afraid we’ll soon have to accept she’s never going to be our same Taryn.”
“Oh, Katherine.” She squeezed her friend’s fingers, sad all over again at how one single moment could change so many lives. As devastating as the accident had been for Maura and her family—losing a child must bring unimaginable pain—Katherine and her son, Brodie, had endured setback after setback in Taryn’s painstakingly slow recovery, measuring each moment in tiny little steps.
“Maybe she won’t ever be the same Taryn,” Claire said carefully. “But she’s tough. I’m still praying you’ll all come through this.”
“Thank you, my dear.” Katherine smiled and finally released her fingers and stepped back. “You and the others have certainly been busy.”
“It’s been a wonderful day so far.”
“We needed this. A reminder that no matter how difficult our own journey, sometimes the only thing that can ease our path is to stop for a while and gather strength by lifting someone else’s burden.”
Claire nodded. “You and Mary Ella have taught me that lesson well over the years.”
“Hand me that extra trowel there and that six-pack of alyssum.”
Claire wanted to argue that Katherine wasn’t dressed for it, in her cream trousers and pastel twinset. But because she had already ruined the other woman’s sweater—and it “wasn’t her favorite anyway”—Claire doubted Katherine would listen.
She handed Katherine the trowel and the six-pack. “I’ve got an extra pair of gloves around here somewhere. Give me a minute to find them.”
“No, don’t bother. I think I need to stand in the sunshine and get my hands dirty today.”
Although Claire’s heart ached, she smiled. The two of them worked side by side in companionable silence and she thought she could see a little more sadness and tension leave the other woman’s features with every passing moment.
Katherine finally spoke when she was adding the last plant to the container. “I do think it’s a wonderful thing you’ve done, but you shouldn’t have worked so hard. You’re still healing yourself.”
“What were you just saying about losing your pain in lifting someone else? I needed this, too.”
She never would have dreamed how much she would need the solace and comfort. If not for the myriad details she had to deal with, she probably would have fallen completely apart after everything that happened with Riley.
“Anyway,” she went on, “I only came up with the idea and then everybody else has just taken off with it. It’s been truly heartwarming to see the town come together.”
“I miss Hope’s Crossing,” Katherine said. “Everyone is very kind at the hospital in Denver and at the apartment building downtown where we’ve rented a place so we can be close to the hospital, but it’s not the same as being home. This whole thing has taken a toll on Brodie, I can tell you that. My son has never been the most patient man. He’s too much like his father was in that respect.”
Claire had generally found Katherine’s son to be cool and disapproving. How such a warm and generous woman could produce such a son mystified her. She didn’t wonder that Brodie was struggling with a daughter who might end up permanently disabled from the accident.
She opened her mouth to answer, but the words died when she saw a familiar silver extended-cab pickup truck pull into the parking lot, its bed filled with lumber.
Whatever she had been about to say flew out of her head as Riley climbed out of the cab. She hadn’t seen him since that night and she braced herself against the pain she knew was stupid and useless.
He turned in their direction but seemed to stop short when he saw her. After a pause, he continued toward them without once meeting her gaze.
“Katherine, hello.” He pulled the older woman into his arms and kissed her cheek. When he set her away, they shared an awkward moment when under normal circumstances he might have greeted Claire the same way. Instead, he gave her a strained sort of smile and shoved his hands in his back pockets. “Claire.”
“Riley,” she murmured, and plucked a hapless dracaena out of the flat.
“Uh, I think we’re done at the playground. We’ve got some extra supplies and somebody at the site said to bring them back here.”
Oh, she missed him. Everything inside her wanted to jump into his arms, to wrap her arms around his neck and hold on tight.
For two weeks, she had told herself each morning she could get through this. She’d survived a divorce, the dissolution of a ten-year marriage to her childhood sweetheart. She could certainly get over Riley McKnight when they’d shared only a few kisses.
So why did her throat ache, her eyes sting?
She cleared her throat. “Um, right. We’ve temporarily created a pile where people can donate unused building materials to anyone who might need something for a project. A clearinghouse kind of thing. It’s on the side of the community center, by the Dumpster. Do you need me to round somebody up to help you unload it?”