“Okay.” Hannah stood and headed for the door. “I’ll just get another one.”
“Why are you doing this?”
Hannah stopped, midstride, at Liz’s shout and turned around.
Heavy sobs racked Liz’s chest and shoulders. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
Hannah swallowed hard. “Because you’re my best friend, and I love you. And because there’s a little boy outside who loves you more than anyone in the world, and he’s hurting and desperate for his mama to get out of bed.”
Liz fought to catch her breath, her attention moving to the open door, where Zeke’s voice as he called Blondie drifted in. “I . . . I can’t.” She pressed a fist to her chest and looked at Hannah. “I don’t know how to go on without Ben.”
Shoulders slumping, Hannah returned to the bed and sat beside her. “I know,” she said softly.
Liz shook her head. “So what do I do?”
“You keep breathing and moving. You just keep going until it doesn’t hurt as much.”
Liz closed her eyes, a stoic expression crossing her face. “You were right. There are no happy-ever-afters.”
Hannah scoffed and dragged a hand over her face. “I should never have said that.” She sighed. “I’ve been wrong about so many things. You may not have Ben anymore, but you have Zeke. And he needs you.”
A fresh stream of tears coursed down Liz’s cheeks.
Hannah scooted closer. “I have no idea how hard this will be for you, but I promise you, you’re not alone. You’ve got to get up—for Zeke’s sake, and your own.”
Liz opened her eyes, fear and pain mingling in their dark depths. “I don’t know if I have it in me,” she whispered.
Hannah flinched, recalling the day she’d left Bryan and returned to Paradise Peak. She’d cried in Red’s arms and said the same thing, feeling empty and devoid of life. But now, she wanted to start over again. With Travis . . .
She squared her shoulders. “You do. And so do I. After I left Bryan, you and Ben wouldn’t let me give up, and I won’t let you give up now. So we’re both going to start over. Right now. And I swear I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
Liz sat quietly for a few minutes, listening to Zeke’s faint chatter and sporadic laughter. Then, the tears dry on her cheeks, she sat up, shoved her long hair behind her shoulders, and shot a hard look at Hannah. “So what exactly do you want me to do?”
Hannah sagged with relief. Anger, at least, was better than apathy.
“In a few minutes, I want you to get up and take a shower, then help me unpack Zeke’s things. But for now . . .” She reached over to the nightstand, picked up the plate of pie, and forked up a big bite. “Please just help me eat this damn peanut butter pie Margaret made for you.”
Liz glared at her for a few moments more, then took the fork and put the chunk of pie in her mouth. She chewed slowly, staring at Hannah’s face all the while; then her throat moved on a hard swallow and she licked her parched lips.
“Well,” Liz whispered, “at least the damn pie is good.” The corners of her lips curved up—just a bit.
Hannah laughed, picked up the plate and the second fork, then settled beside her. “The company will be even better.”
* * *
Travis threw a stick and smiled. “Get it, girl.”
Blondie, sitting on his boots, jumped up and shot across the lawn in front of Liz’s cabin.
Zeke bounced in place and laughed. “Get it, get it, get it!”
Blondie, the stick clamped between her teeth, trotted back and plopped onto Travis’s boots again, her tail wagging.
Travis patted her head. “Good job, Blondie.”
“Again, Giant,” Zeke squealed. “Again.”
“As much as you want, buddy.” Travis wrestled the stick away from Blondie, who growled playfully, then threw it across the lawn again.