Page 47 of One Merciful Moment

The garden was alive. The town was alive. The men were alive in a way Boone hadn't seen before. Their spirits were high. Everstill was breathing again.

He turned to Ashley. "You did this for them."

"No." She shook her head. "We did."

He leaned down and pressed a slow kiss to her lips. She closed her eyes, letting the warmth of his mouth settle deep inside her. He couldn't take his gaze off her.

She was beautiful.

Chapter 28

Ashley

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The men stayed in the garden long after their discovery. Ashley couldn't stop smiling. Their excitement was contagious. But Boone had sobered.

It wasn't like the other times when he withdrew. He wasn't scared. Just quiet. The kind of quiet that made Ashley want to stay close.

She brushed his arm. "Hey, let's give them space."

Boone nodded, and they walked a short distance away, stopping near the old courthouse steps. The men were still visible. Ashley watched them for a moment. Copper stood with Mace, both gesturing animatedly. Someone laughed. It was an honest, relieved sound Ashley hadn't heard since arriving in Everstill.

She inhaled deeply, feeling the same relief, and looked at Boone. His expression relaxed.

"Copper was right." She leaned against his side. "Everstill is reacting to you."

Boone's gaze flickered back to the men. "But they're reacting to the garden. To what you've done."

"No." She looked out at the garden. "They're happy about their food supply continuing, but they know it's because you're learning more about yourself, and how strong you are."

This was Boone's world. His responsibility. His burden. His heart.

He was safe in Everstill. This wasn't her world.

As she learned more about his life, she couldn't ask him to leave the security of his home. Boone had clawed his way out of a world that wanted to swallow him whole, and Everstill was the first place that had ever held him gently. She didn't pretend to understand the mechanics of addiction or the way old cravings could stalk a person years after the danger had passed.

But she understood plants. She understood how roots behaved.

Some plants could be moved anywhere and thrive without complaint. Others withered the moment they were pulled from the soil that shaped them.

Boone wasn't a plant she could transplant. He needed the right ground beneath him. The right quiet. The right safety. The right steadiness.

Everstill gave him all of that. It was the only place he'd ever grown without being choked out.

And now she'd seen the garden respond to him, healing in ways that defied logic. Boone belonged here. His sobriety belonged here. His peace belonged here. If the veil ever opened, Boone needed to stay rooted in the place that kept him alive.

She couldn't ask him to risk that.

Everstill was his soil. And she was beginning to realize she might be part of it too, but she had a home her grandmother left her. Customers who relied on her herbs and medicines. Neighbors who had become friends when she tried to support herself with no education beyond what her grandmother taught her.

She was proud of what she'd built.

She touched his hand lightly. "You belong here."

Boone frowned, but she caught the sharp inhale. She'd hit something tender inside him.

He tugged her closer and put her in front of him, her back against his stomach. Cocooned in his arms, she let her head fall back on his chest.