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Mo glanced up at her.“You ready?”
Her eyes burned, but she looked at him, then the others.“I’m sorry it took so long for me to...I just...”
“It’s hard to say goodbye,” Mo said.
She nodded.“It’s more than that.”She swallowed.“‘Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.’Margo did that for me.And...she was okay with it.She knew where she was going and that this was not the end.Just...goodbye for now.”
Mo nodded.
“I miss her,” she said.“I miss her laughter, and her hope, and the way she believed that God was sovereign, no matter what.”
Mo’s eyes glistened.
Her throat thickened and she held out her hand.“I need a lighter.”
Hawkeye handed her a torch.
She lifted the lantern down to Mo, who held it while she lit it.The square glowed, and Mo set it into the water.
“Goodbye for now,” said Austen.
The lantern floated away, caught by the backwash of the current.
Hawkeye stepped up behind her, bent to hand his lantern to Mo, and lit his candle.Stood up and put his arm around Austen.“Goodbye for now.”
She closed her eyes, her hands over her face.
Then she turned into Hawkeye and quietly sobbed.
An hour later, the lights still twinkled out at sea, just a bare glimmer.She’d peeled shrimp and sung “Summertime”with Kenny Chesney, roasted a marshmallow and laughed.And laughed.
And healed.
The fire started to die, and she got up.Walked over to Mo.“I’m going to take off.I need to get an early start on my boat.”Then she took out the picture of herself and Margo.Pressed it into his hand.“I wanted you to have this.”
He took the picture, ran his thumb over it.“Think anyone will ever find it?”
“The wreck?”
He looked up at her.“The statue of Santa María de la Paz.”
Oh.“Maybe,” she said, then touched his arm.“I think if God wants it to be found, He’ll make that happen.”
He nodded, then gave her a hug.“Thank you for coming, Austen.”
She held on for a moment, then disentangled herself, took a last look at the fading lights, and headed to her Jeep.
Hawkeye jogged out to her.“You good?”
Sweet.She put her hand on his shoulder.“Yeah.I’m good.”
Or mostly good.Because the truth was...
She missed Declan.And not because of his fancy lifestyle butdespiteit.
The man was good.And kind.And...maybe it was over—she hadn’t heard from him since he’d returned to Mariposa two weeks ago—but maybe...
Maybe his life was too complicated to fit her in.Maybe she would just get in the way.