Chapter 10

As Harper cycled toward The Starlight Café, she tried to steady her pounding heart. The last time she'd seen Henry, he was on his way to another ward. He hadn't needed the ventilator to breathe, but he still had a long way to go before he could return home.

The message she'd received from her friend at the hospital had taken her by surprise. Out of all the COVID-19 patients she'd helped, only a few had returned to see her after the hospital reopened to visitors. Most of the patients left messages, hoping their thanks found its way to the staff who'd helped them.

Meeting Henry and his wife, Margaret, so long after he'd been discharged from the hospital was surreal. Since she'd talked to him on the phone, she'd thought about what he'd been through, the health issues that still plagued him. He was a survivor, a fighter, and a gentle soul they'd nearly lost.

Parking her bicycle outside the café, she took a moment to compose herself. A group of women smiled at her as they walked toward A Stitch in Time. Their voices were full of laughter and joy, two things that were so far from how she felt that it worried her. Even the pretty bouquets outside The Flower Cottage couldn't lift the heavy shadow of regret weighing on her heart.

She checked her watch and bit her bottom lip. It was time to meet Henry and Margaret.

The doorbell chimed as she entered, and the cozy warmth of the café wrapped around her. Her gaze drifted across the room, looking for the couple who'd come so far to say thank you.

Sitting at a corner table was a woman with short gray hair. As soon as their gazes connected, Margaret smiled and waved her over. Harper had never met Henry's wife in person. But they'd spoken on daily Zoom calls and talked over the phone when setbacks were so severe no one thought Henry would survive.

In those times, Harper had held her iPad close to Henry when his wife whispered the words she thought would be their last goodbye. Afterward, she'd console Margaret, giving her what encouragement she could without promising a miracle. Then she'd moved to the next patient, helping another family who were going through the same thing.

She'd bottled up her grief, told herself she needed to be strong for her patients, for the families who clung to hope. By the time she left the hospital, she was numb from burying her feelings. Cold to the aftereffects of a tragedy that had taken so many good people.

As she maneuvered between the tables, Harper smiled at Henry. The man she remembered in the hospital looked completely different from the person standing beside Margaret. His brown eyes were bright and filled with warmth. His sunken cheeks had filled out and, for the first time, his smile was pain-free.

Henry stepped around his chair and opened his arms. "Here's my favorite nurse!"

With tears in his eyes, they embraced.

As Henry's arms tightened around her shoulders, Harper felt a surge of relief. The anxiety that had gripped her started to dissolve. It was replaced by the warmth of human connection, of shared history with a man who'd made such a remarkable and strong recovery.

When Henry stepped away, he wiped his eyes. "You're one of the people who saved my life. I don't know if I'll ever have the words to thank you."

Harper rubbed his arm. "Seeing you is all the thanks I need."

She hugged Margaret, their embrace bridging the years since they'd last had contact. On their frequent phone calls, they'd spoken like old friends. Margaret had shared family secrets, told Harper funny stories about the man who was slowly losing his fragile grip on life. They'd formed a relationship unlike anything Harper had experienced and probably never would again.

"It's so good to see you both," Harper managed, her voice steady despite the whirlwind inside her.

"It's good to see you, too," Margaret said through her tears. "You're even more beautiful in real life."

Harper smiled. "I'm surprised you recognize me. I was covered head to toe in PPE for most of our Zoom meetings."

"But not all of them," Margaret reminded her. "You looked so tired."

"We worked long hours," Harper said softly. She didn't need to mention how many staff had been infected with the virus. Even with the extra precautions they'd taken, they'd lost too many friends and colleagues.

As they settled into their seats, Margaret's eyes were full of gratitude. "I'm so pleased we found you. We wanted to thank you. The nights you stayed by Henry's side, the care you gave him, we owe you so much."

Harper touched Margaret's arm. "I was doing my job. I'm just pleased everything turned out better than anyone expected."

Henry sent his wife a grateful smile. "So are we."

After they'd ordered lunch, Margaret told Harper about their lives after Henry left the hospital—his slow recuperation, the emotional toll it had taken, and how they'd found strength in each other. Harper listened, her heart full, as she saw the love and resilience of a couple who'd nearly lost each other.

"We tried to find you," Henry told her. "But no one would tell us where you'd gone. If it weren't for the nurse we spoke to a few weeks ago, we'd still be looking. How have you been?"

Harper hesitated before telling them what had happened to her. Even after the conversations she'd had with Margaret, she was reluctant to tell them everything. "I was working at the hospital until the end of last year. My grandfather had a stroke, so I moved back here to take care of him. I'm not nursing at the moment. I work part time at a medical clinic as a receptionist."

Margaret's brow furrowed slightly in surprise. "You're such an amazing nurse. We thought you'd still be working in New York City."

A waitress brought out their meals, and Harper used the time to think about what she'd say next. "Leaving nursing was a hard decision," she explained, her hands wrapped around the comforting warmth of her coffee mug. "After everything that happened during the pandemic, I needed a change—a place to breathe and find my footing again. Sapphire Bay has given me that. And caring for my grandfather is rewarding in a different way."

Henry reached across the table, placing a hand on top of Harper's. "I'm glad you've found your own way to continue helping others. That's what matters," he said, his voice filled with understanding.

Harper's eyes met Henry's, and she saw a man who'd faced death and come back to embrace life. "I wasn't sure meeting you was a good idea," she admitted. "I'd locked away what had happened and didn't want to face how I felt. But seeing you here with Margaret reminds me of why I became a nurse."

Henry's fingers tightened around hers. "You used to hold my hand. It gave me hope, even when I couldn't speak or tell you I knew you were there. I'll never forget the kindness you shared with me."

Margaret's eyes were brimming with tears. "We've read about healthcare workers struggling after the pandemic, the burnout, and the need for a change. You gave so much of yourself to Henry. It takes courage to step back and care for yourself."

Harper didn't have as much courage as they thought. Until she came to Sapphire Bay, she'd struggled to get out of bed in the mornings. Struggled to piece together a life that had changed in a million different ways.

Andrea, the owner of The Starlight Café, arrived at their table with three plates of pie. "A little birdy told me you adore pecan pie, Harper. Consider this a gift for you and your two friends."

Harper looked around the café for the person responsible for the desserts.

"Owen's just leaving," Andrea whispered. "He wants you to know he didn't follow you. He came in for lunch and noticed you sitting over here."

Harper's frown softened into a smile. She caught a glimpse of Owen just as he was about to step out of the café. Knowing he'd thought of her, even in passing, warmed her more than the pie could.

She raised her hand in a small wave, hoping to catch his attention before he left. Owen paused, turned slightly, and their eyes met. In that fleeting moment, Harper saw a silent understanding that spoke volumes. He nodded to her before disappearing through the door.

Turning back to the table, Harper saw the curiosity in Henry and Margaret's expressions. "Owen's a friend. He has a way of making people feel appreciated, even when they don't realize they need it."

"We all need friends like that," Henry told her.

Andrea refilled everyone's coffee and then smiled at Harper's guests. "I hope you enjoy Sapphire Bay. It's a lovely town."

"We're already enjoying being here," Margaret told her. "Lunch was delicious and spending time with Harper is wonderful."

Henry dipped a spoon into the pie and ate a mouthful of the sweet dessert. "And so is this. Thank you."

After Andrea left, the conversation turned to lighter topics—a book Margaret wanted to write about their experience during the pandemic and Henry's newfound hobbies.

Harper shared stories of the town, the cottages Henry and Margaret had admired on Anchor Lane, and the close-knit community that had welcomed her back with open arms.

Margaret set her dessert spoon on the side of her plate. "You're lucky to have found this small town."

"I was raised here and my mom lives a few miles away," Harper told her. "Returning to Sapphire Bay was the best thing I could've done."

Henry looked around the café, taking in the local artwork on the walls, the customers engaged in quiet conversation, and the sense of peace that filled the room. "I can see why you like living here. Are you planning on staying in Sapphire Bay?"

Harper nodded. "For now, I'm where I need to be. As for the future, I'm not sure. But regardless of what happens, this town will always be special."

After they'd finished lunch, Henry and Margaret thanked Harper again. They promised to stay in touch and send her a copy of Margaret's book once it was published.

Harper walked them to the door, her heart a little lighter as they exchanged hugs and goodbyes.

As she watched them leave, she felt a chapter of her life coming to a gentle close. The trauma and pain of the pandemic was giving way to new beginnings and new dreams.

She turned back into the café, thinking about the community that had given her so much, about Owen and his upcoming exhibition, and about her future that was slowly taking shape in Sapphire Bay.

As the eveningsettled over Sapphire Bay, Owen focused on the bowl he was creating in his studio. The rhythmic hum of the furnace and the swoosh of the air gun merged with the music playing in the background.

It was the quiet moments like this that he enjoyed the most. He could forget about the outside world and make pieces of art that came straight from his heart.

Someone knocked on the front door and he looked up to see Harper standing outside. He couldn't stop what he was doing, so he lifted his hand to wave her into the studio. As soon as she opened the door, he smiled. There was something about her that made him happy, especially when he saw what she was holding.

"Hi, Harper," Owen said as he rolled the molten glass on the steel table. "I didn't expect to see you tonight."

"One of Granddad's friends came to see him, so I left them alone for a few minutes. I wanted to thank you for buying the pecan pies for us." She took off her bicycle helmet and placed a paper bag on his workbench. "Brooke made a fresh batch of fudge this afternoon. I thought you might enjoy some."

"You didn't have to do that, but thanks. How was the meeting with the man from the hospital?"

"It was better than I thought. Henry's changed so much I didn't recognize him." Harper followed his actions as he continued to shape the molten glass. "It was nice to hear about his recovery and what he's been doing."

After Harper told him about the challenges Henry and his wife had faced after he'd left the hospital, he paused his work for a moment to look at her. "The care you gave Henry must've made a big difference in his recovery."

Harper's blue eyes were filled with so many conflicting emotions that Owen didn't know how she was feeling.

"I hope so," she said quietly. "Nursing was different during the pandemic. I tried my best to support my patients, but I always felt as though I wasn't doing enough. Especially when families couldn't be together."

"It sounds as though Henry and his wife appreciate everything you did for them."

Harper nodded as she watched him roll the hot glass in small chips of red and blue glass. "They made me realize how much of a difference we made."

Owen smiled and sat at his workbench. "It was worthwhile meeting them, then. Do you want to blow into the pipe to create a bowl?"

Harper laughed and shook her head. "I'll leave this one to you."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. After my last attempt, I've realized I don't have enough patience to do glassblowing. I'll learn a lot more from watching you."

Owen re-heated the glass and then retuned to the workbench. "The patience comes when you see the piece you're making take shape. If you change your mind, let me know." Spinning the blowpipe with one hand, he used the other to shape the glass with his tools. Harper leaned against the bench, silently watching him as he blew into the pipe, creating an air bubble within the molten glass. The bubble expanded, forming the interior cavity of the multi-colored bowl.

Harper sighed. "I'll never get tired of seeing you do that. It's like magic."

A warmth filled Owen's chest. When Harper watched him work, it made him proud of how far he'd come. Proud of the new life he'd created in the small town he called home.

After he was happy with the shape of the bowl, he turned to Harper. "What do you think?"

She tilted her head to the side. "Another gorgeous addition to your collection."

With that recommendation ringing in his ears, he carefully finished the bowl and placed it in the annealing oven to cool down.

"Would you like a piece of fudge before you start the next bowl?" Harper asked.

He wiped his hands on a cloth before opening the bag she'd brought. "It smells delicious. I don't know how Brooke does it, but she's really good at making fudge."

"She's almost as good as you are with glass," Harper joked, her gaze catching on a shelf of colorful paperweights. "You've been busy."

"They're for the exhibition," Owen admitted. "The paperweights I made for the festival were so popular that I decided to try some different designs."

Harper held one of them in her hand. "This is stunning. The silver frit catches the light and sparkles like sunshine."

Owen watched Harper as she carefully placed the paperweight back on the shelf. "I haven't named the collection yet. What do you think I should call it?"

Harper studied the paperweights. "They're all amazing." She picked up another one and held it up to the light. "Because the sparkles remind me of sunshine, what about The Magic of Sunshine?"

He thought about the name, the way he wanted his customers to feel when they saw the small glass orbs. "I like it. I'll have to come to you for inspiration next time I create a new collection." Taking a piece of fudge out of the bag, he broke it in half and gave one of the pieces to Harper. "Thanks for this, too."

"You're welcome. How are you feeling about the exhibition?"

"I'm a little nervous," he admitted. "Mom and Dad said they'd help. Daniella's put flyers up in The Fairy Forest and at Pastor John's church to let everyone know it's happening."

"Have you let Mabel know?" Harper asked. "She'll make sure it's advertised on the community Facebook page."

Owen nodded. "I talked to her yesterday and she's happy to advertise it. While I was there, she called Theo. He's interviewing me for the radio station."

"Before you know it, you'll be world famous."

The idea of fame was so distant from Owen's reality that he chuckled. "World-famous in Sapphire Bay, maybe." He looked at Harper, taking in her easy smile and the way she fit so naturally into his studio. It was as though she'd always been an important part of the fabric of his life here.

Her gaze met his and a spark of chemistry flickered between them.

He wanted to be more than Harper's friend. He'd seen things most people never witnessed in their lifetime. His career in the police force had changed him forever. But, when he was with Harper, he felt as though none of that mattered.

What he didn't know was how she felt about him. And he'd never know unless he asked her. Placing the bag of fudge on the bench, he cleared his throat. "There's something I've been wanting to ask you, Harper." He paused as he tried to find the right words. "We've spent a lot of time together over the last few weeks, and I think we get along really well. Sharing parts of our lives with each other has meant a lot to me."

Harper frowned. Was that a good sign?

"We're both finding our way through a lot of changes," he said as his heart pounded against his chest. "And we're not sure what's ahead. But what I am sure about is how I feel when I'm around you. You make everything brighter."

Harper looked at him with a mixture of surprise and something else—something hopeful. It was enough to make him think she might like him, too.

"I guess what I'm trying to say, is I'd like it if we could explore what's between us. I don't know what the future holds, but I'd like to find out with you. Would you... would you consider being my girlfriend?"

The question hung in the air. Harper's frown deepened. He waited, sure he'd just ruined a great friendship by wanting too much from her.

"I'm not sure what to say," Harper said quietly.

Owen's heart sank, but he tried to keep his expression open, encouraging her to be honest. "You can say ‘no.' It won't change our friendship," he assured her.

She seemed to be considering his words carefully, and when she spoke again, her voice was barely above a whisper. "You're an amazing person, Owen. I enjoy spending time with you, but I'm not sure I'm ready to be your girlfriend."

He nodded, trying to mask the disappointment that he felt. "That's okay. I don't want to pressure you into anything. But if it makes it any easier, we could take things slowly."

Instead of looking relieved, Harper seemed even more worried. "I haven't dated anyone in years. Being close to anyone terrifies me."

Owen reached out, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. "There's nothing to be scared about. Regardless of whether you're my girlfriend, we'll always be friends. That won't change."

Harper looked up at him, her blue eyes shining. "When I was twelve, I had a crush on you."

Owen laughed at the smile breaking across her face. "That's good to know."

She stepped closer, placing her hands on his waist. "You were sixteen and Daniella told me you were too old for me."

His eyebrows rose. "Did she tell you anything else?"

"She said you liked someone else, so we'd be doomed from the start."

Owen looked into Harper's eyes. He hoped like crazy she wasn't listening to his sister's words of wisdom now. "I don't feel that way about anyone but you, and I haven't dated anyone in years, either. Does that help you decide whether you want to be my girlfriend?"

She bit her bottom lip as she thought about what he'd said. "For most of my life you've been Daniella's older brother. It'll be different being your girlfriend."

Relief and happiness washed over Owen. He hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath while he waited for her decision. "Does that mean you want to give it a try?"

Harper nodded. "It does."

"That's... that's great," he stammered. His hands cupped her jaw, holding her close. "We'll take everything one step at a time. There's no rush."

Her smile grew more confident. "One step at a time sounds perfect," she agreed before gently kissing him.

Owen's heart raced at the softness of her lips against his. A kiss that was the beginning of a new relationship. He felt the honesty and care behind it, a promise of things to come.

When they parted, there was a light in Harper's eyes that matched the hope in his heart. He stood there for a moment longer, letting the significance of the kiss and their decision to be together settle around him.

Eventually, Harper stepped back, her hands lingering on his for a second longer before letting go. "I should let you get back to work. Granddad will need me soon."

Owen glanced at his workbench and then at Harper. The molten glass, once the sole focus of his attention, now seemed to pale compared to the woman in front of him. "I'm nearly ready to leave," he decided with a smile. "I'll walk you to your bicycle before I go home."

As they made their way to the studio door, a comfortable warmth filled the silence between them. Instead of being worried about what the future might hold, Owen felt a deep sense of rightness about everything that had just happened.

"Thanks, Harper," he said as they reached her bicycle, a gentle seriousness in his voice.

"What for?" she asked.

"For trusting me."

"It isn't difficult. I've trusted you my entire life." And with a smile, she sat on her bicycle and pedaled away.

Owen watched her until she turned onto Main Street. Tonight had been about something more precious than anything he could shape with his hands. Tonight was about the beginning of ‘us'. The beginning of something that could change their lives forever.