Chapter 1

Eden’s heart pounded as she pulled up to the beautiful home she’d heard so much about. Sapphire Bay was everything her friend, Shelley, had described in Eden’s long, often tear-filled phone calls. Tranquil streets lined with pretty gardens, locals greeting each other with warm smiles, and the endless stretch of serene water that gave the bay its name.

As she stepped out of her rental car with one of her suitcases, the tight coil of tension in her chest began to unwind.

A very pregnant Shelley was already on the veranda, her face breaking into a broad grin as she came down the steps. “Eden!” she called out, her arms open wide.

Eden managed a wobbly smile and allowed herself to be swept into Shelley’s embrace. “I can’t believe I’m actually here.”

“You’re going to love it,” Shelley reassured her as she stepped back, her hands gripping Eden’s. “Come on in. Let’s get you settled.”

As they walked into the living room, Shelley’s husband, John, rose from an armchair. “We’re so glad you’re here, Eden.”

She gave John a hug. He had a way of making you feel like everything would be all right. Whether that was a skill he’d learned as the pastor of the local church or if he’d always been like that, she didn’t know.

“Thanks for having me,” Eden replied, her voice stronger than she felt.

John nodded and sent her an understanding smile. “Is there anything else you’d like me to bring inside?”

Eden’s grip tightened on her suitcase. “There are two more suitcases on the back seat of my rental, but I can bring them inside later.”

“Let me help,” John said. “If I don’t, Shelley will get them. And given that she can’t see over her baby bump, it wouldn’t be a good idea.”

Shelley grinned. “That’s one of the perks of being pregnant. John’s doing all the heavy lifting. Come on, Eden. I’ll show you to your room.”

Eden handed John her keys. “Thank you. The blue suitcase is extra heavy.”

Shelley wrapped her hand around Eden’s arm as she led her down the hallway. “You’ll love your bedroom. We painted it last summer and it always makes me feel happy.”

Eden enjoyed seeing the quirky knickknacks on the narrow hall table, the framed photographs on the walls. Everything about Shelley and John’s house reminded her of what a home should be like.

She stopped in front of a dried flower wreath hanging from a hook. “This is gorgeous.”

Shelley smiled. “My friend, Kylie, made the wreath for John and I last Christmas. She owns Blooming Lovely, a flower shop in town. Here’s your room.”

Eden stepped into a small but sunny bedroom painted a cheerful shade of yellow. A vase of fresh wildflowers sat on the bedside table, and a cozy armchair was beside the window.

“It’s perfect. The wall color reminds me of daffodils.” Leaving her suitcase beside the bed, Eden took a deep breath. It’d taken nine hours to get here, but every minute spent in airports and driving was worth it.

Shelley opened a drawer and handed her a set of towels. “I thought you’d like this room. You told me once that yellow was your favorite color.”

“It still is,” Eden said, feeling a pang of nostalgia for simpler times. She wandered over to the window and looked outside at the quiet street. There were no honking horns, impatient drivers, or crowds jostling for position on busy sidewalks. This was the small Montana town that had changed her friend’s life and, Eden hoped, hers.

“Dinner will be ready in about an hour,” Shelley said, her tone casual but her eyes scanning Eden’s face with concern. “Why don’t you unpack, take a shower, or just rest.”

Eden nodded, turning to face her friend. “Thanks for everything, Shelley. This means …” She paused, her throat tight with emotion. “It means a lot.”

Shelley hugged her again, this time with a gentle squeeze. “You’re my friend. We’ll get through this together, you’ll see.”

As Shelley left the room, Eden felt the first real sense of peace wash over her since she’d left Campden Elementary School.

In this small, close-knit community, she wouldn’t have to worry about students bringing guns to school; the chaos that had ended the life of a little girl, or the fear that kept her awake at night.

Here, in this little sanctuary, she prayed she could finally start to heal.

Steve wipedthe sweat from his brow and stepped back to assess the sculpture in front of him. It was a tangled mass of metal and glass that somehow captured the chaos and the beauty of a stormy sea.

He’d been working on this piece for the last three months. Finally, it was at the stage where he was happy with it.

Taking off his gloves, he left them beside the sculpture. His workshop, in the old steamboat museum, was full of tools, steel rods, and heavy-duty machinery. It was one of the few places where he could forget about his past and create unforgettable art.

The wooden door opened, and his friend Owen walked toward him.

“Hi, Steve. It’s good to see you in your workshop. I thought you’d be building the tiny homes,” Owen said as he scanned the room.

“I’ve spent the last three Saturdays working on them. If I don’t get this commission finished, I’ll have an unhappy customer calling me. Aren’t you supposed to be helping your sister with her wedding plans?”

Owen’s gaze lingered on the sculpture beside Steve. “I was, but I needed a break. Plus, I wanted to see how your latest project’s coming along.”

Steve stepped aside to give Owen a better view. Out of everyone he knew, Owen’s opinion mattered the most. As well as being a good friend, he’d opened a glass studio in Sapphire Bay. His bowls, paperweights, vases, and other pieces were some of the best Steve had ever seen.

“It’s called Ferocity of the Ocean,” Steve told his friend. “What do you think?”

“I think you need to start exhibiting your work. It’s amazing.”

Amazing or not, Steve wasn’t prepared to show anyone apart from Owen and his close friends what he did when he wasn’t building the tiny homes. If too many people knew about the sculptures, someone would realize who he was.

“I’m happy creating a few sculptures a year for other people. Besides, it’s more therapy than art.”

Owen touched the edge of a curling, stainless-steel wave, poised as if caught in the moment before crashing into the ocean. “If you change your mind, there’s a gallery in Polson that’d be perfect. Their last exhibition was full of sculptures that weren’t nearly as good as yours.”

A familiar twinge of anxiety knotted Steve’s stomach at the thought of people judging his work. “I’m impressed you went to the exhibition. I thought you’d prefer to look at other glassblowers’ work.”

Owen grinned. “Art is art, and I was curious. If I can open my studio to the public and exhibit my pieces, you can, too. It might be good for you.”

Steve gave a non-committal shrug, his gaze drifting back to the sculpture. “I’ll think about it.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” Owen said with an understanding smile. “How much longer will you be here?”

Steve checked the time. It was a lot later than he thought. “I’ll be going home soon. Why?”

“How about we finish the day with a run? It’s the perfect weather—cool and crisp with just the right amount of daylight left.”

Steve looked at the half-finished sculptures and tools scattered around his workshop. Getting out would do him good. He could step away from the pressure of his latest commission and the shadows that crept into his safe space.

“All right, let me grab my gear,” Steve said, his decision prompting a broad smile from Owen. “Don’t think I’m going easy on you, though. I was distracted on our last run. This time, I plan on beating you.”

“Famous last words,” Owen said as he turned off the air compressor.

Steve took off his welding jacket. “When do you need to be back?”

“Preferably after the stores in Polson close. Daniella’s threatening to take me shopping for a suit. I keep telling her I’m not the one getting married, but she’s not listening. I hope Harrison’s prepared for a life with a woman who doesn’t take no for an answer.”

Crossing the room, Steve took his running gear out of a locker. “Harrison knows exactly what he’s doing, and so will you when you marry Harper.”

Owen grinned. “We’re thinking of tying the knot in mid-December. In case you think you can wiggle out of all the craziness that happens before a wedding, think again. I’d like you to be my best man.”

Steve’s eyebrows rose. “I’m honored, but why me?”

Owen started stretching. “You understand me better than anyone else. Plus, you know Harper almost as well as I do. It feels right.”

Even though he wasn’t good around large groups of people, Steve couldn’t let his friend down. “Then how can I refuse? I’d enjoy being your best man.”

“That’s great.” Owen pointed to Steve’s gym bag. “Now, hurry up and get ready. If I’m not on one of the trails in the next ten minutes, Daniella will track me down and take me shopping.”

Steve wasn’t about to stand between Owen and his sister. So, he threw on his running gear, grabbed his water bottle, and headed for the door.

Without taking a step outside, his mood was already lighter. Owen had a way of ironing out life’s issues and finding what really mattered; good friends, incredible scenery, and the best pizza in town when they finished each run.