Page 28 of Finding Home

“My grandfather shaped most of it.” Cole picked up his fork, then set it back down. “His name was Earl Morrison. He had a cabin near Finley Point, not far from the resort site. He was the first person who ever told me I could build something worth keeping. Not just in the construction sense. He meant it more broadly than that.”

“He sounds like someone special.”

“He was.” Cole looked toward the window. Outside, the lake was dark and still. “He died when I was eleven. We were at the cabin together, just the two of us. James had stayed home with a cold, and my parents weren’t worried. As far as anyone knew, my grandfather was fit and healthy.”

Cole paused for long enough that Julie knew what he said next was important.

“Granddad sat on the porch steps late one afternoon and said he felt tired. I went fishing. By the time I got back, he looked terrible. I ran to get help, but the nearest phone was over a mile away through the trees.”

Julie waited.

Cole looked down at his hands. “I felt guilty for leaving him at the cabin, for going fishing when I should have gone for help. The guilt has stayed with me and colored everything I’ve done.”

“Have you told anyone how you feel?” Julie asked.

Cole shook his head. “Not really. At the time, Mom and Dad were dealing with their own grief. Afterward, it seemed pointless. James has tried to get me to open up about what happened, but it’s easier to change the subject.”

Julie didn’t say anything. Telling Cole his parents and brother would have understood seemed too flippant. She didn’t know his family or how they would have reacted.

“I went back to the cabin recently,” Cole said. “For the first time in years. I found Granddad’s favorite photo of us, and the front door key was still where we used to leave it.” He almost smiled. “I’m not entirely sure why I went.”

“I think you do know why,” Julie said.

He looked at her and sighed. “Maybe.”

“Your granddad believed in you before you’d done anything to earn it,” she said. “That doesn’t go away.”

Cole held her gaze. He told her about his father’s habit of sketching floor plans on paper napkins at the kitchen table, and how he’d started copying him when he was a young boy.

She told him about the first article she’d written for her high school newsletter. It was a piece about a teacher who had been buying classroom supplies out of her own pocket for years. The response from the community had been enough to change how the school allocated its budget.

It was easy, looking back, to see how each of those early things had pointed them toward the lives they’d ended up living.

From across the room, someone tapped on a glass and the crowd quieted for a toast. Everyone turned toward the couple. Their faces were filled with warmth and genuine delight.

“A friend called yesterday,” she said, after the speeches were finished. “We worked together at The Tribune for about eight years. Daphne heard I’d been applying for jobs and wanted to help.”

Cole set down his fork. “And?”

“She gave me a name. A man called Griffin manages an award-winning newspaper in Kalispell. He’s been looking for someone with more experience than his current team has. It wouldn’t be the same as The Tribune, and it probably pays a lot less than I’m used to.”

“But?”

She exhaled. “But Daphne said Griffin’s building the paper into something I should be part of. He’s expanding its scope even more, and trying to cover the kinds of stories the bigger outlets ignore.”

“Will you reach out to him?”

Julie nodded. “I wrote down his number, but I haven’t called him yet.”

Cole said nothing, but his expression told her he understood the weight of a decision you weren’t quite ready to make.

At some point, Julie stopped keeping track of the time and simply enjoyed Cole’s company. He had a great sense of humor and enjoyed doing the same things she did.

When they finally stepped out onto the street, the temperature had dropped several degrees. The sidewalks were quiet, lit amber under old-fashioned lamp posts that lined the main road. Cole fell into step beside her as they walked toward his truck.

Julie pulled her fluffy red hat out of her jacket pocket. “Can I ask you something, Cole?”

“Of course.”