Trusting His Promise (Love on Sanctuary Shores #5)

Chapter 3

“I take it things didn’t go well with the boat lady?” Maggie asked quietly from the passenger seat of the van as Beckett steered out of the town’s parking lot and onto Harbor Way, which ran around the island’s shoreline and would take them to Dad’s— his —house.

“What makes you say that?” Beckett thought he’d done a good enough job of covering up his frustration about Jo as he’d given the others the walking tour of the town. He was an actor, after all.

Maggie tapped her lip. “You forget that I know you pretty well. That whole extra-cheerful, this-is-the-best-day-ever vibe you’ve got going might have fooled the others, but not me.”

“We didn’t really get a chance to talk,” Beckett said honestly. “That’s all.”

Mostly because she hadn’t wanted them to have a chance to talk. That much was clear.

Was it true, what her dad had said? He was the only boy who had ever made her cry?

He hated the thought. And he hated the fact that younger him would have relished it. He had wanted to hurt her back then, wanted to make her stop acting as if everything was great and God was good and if only he just believed his life would be as perfect as hers was.

No wonder she didn’t want to talk to him. He had been awful.

But if she didn’t let him talk to her, then he couldn’t apologize.

And if he couldn’t apologize, then he would have to keep carrying around this burden. He knew Jesus forgave him. But he would feel a whole lot better—a whole lot less like an imposter at this whole Christianity thing—if she did too.

“Well, there will be plenty more chances to talk,” Maggie said cheerfully. “We’re here for at least two months. I’d say that’s plenty of time for a love story, especially since you already know each other.”

Beckett snorted. “You really do think the world is like a movie, don’t you?”

“Don’t you?” Maggie turned the question around on him.

“Absolutely not.”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “Spoken like a true romance movie star.”

Beckett shook his head. “Come on, Maggie. Even you can’t really believe that the kinds of movies we make actually happen in real life. I mean, the God part, yes. But the love parts . . .”

Maggie laughed lightly. “If I remember correctly, it wasn’t so long ago that you didn’t believe in the God parts either. And now look at you.”

“Not the same thing.” It was true that God had brought him to faith in Jesus. But Beckett doubted very much that anything could ever make him believe that the kinds of happy families they portrayed in their movies actually existed in real life.

Maggie nodded. “True. But I wouldn’t rule out God’s ability to coax your heart about this too. Anyway, my romance is going to be a later-in-life romance, just you wait and see. Maybe I’ll take up golfing and meet someone on the course here.” Maggie gestured out Beckett’s window to the rolling greens of the island’s golf course.

“You do that,” Beckett encouraged, grateful to move the conversation away from himself.

“Oh, plus then I could drive a golf cart around. That always looks so fun.”

“True,” Beckett murmured, but his thoughts wandered back to Jo. Apparently she was working with her dad at his fishing charter business. Had that been her choice, or had her father pressured her into it, the way his father had tried to pressure Beckett to follow him into software development? Had she ever gotten married? He hadn’t thought to look for a ring—though the way that guy on the pier had joked with her, he tended to think not.

Not that it mattered. It wasn’t like he was here to date the woman—only to apologize to her so he could put his guilt behind him and move on.

“Whoa, Beckett, tell me that’s not your house.” Sadie’s face poked into the space between his seat and Maggie’s as Beckett slowed to pull into a long driveway that led up a bluff overlooking the lake. A huge log-cabin-style house loomed at the top of the hill.

“I’m afraid it is,” Beckett said grimly, a wrecking ball slamming into his gut at the thought of stepping through the doors for the first time in over a decade. This house held both his best and his worst memories—the worst far outweighing the best. He forced himself to keep breathing, keep his foot lightly on the gas, keep acting as if everything was fine, even as the memories pressed close enough to suffocate him.

They’d moved here when he was ten. Mom had always wanted to open a bed-and-breakfast on the island where she and Dad had honeymooned, and when Dad had surprised her with this place, she had been so happy that Beckett had been sure nothing could ever hurt their family.

It stunned him even now, how wrong he had been.

He pulled up in front of the garage door and turned the van off, then jumped out of the vehicle to suck in a few breaths of air.

It was going to be fine. He could handle being here. The past was in the past, and it was going to stay there.

The other van pulled up next to him, and people started to pour out of both vehicles. Beckett moved to the back to start unloading the luggage and equipment. It took several trips to get everything inside, and Beckett was grateful that all the hauling kept him from really taking in his surroundings.

But when they were done, the others all went off to explore the rambling house or to their own rooms to unpack, and Beckett was left to himself. He’d given the master bedroom to Stella, the assistant director, and her husband Ed, the production sound mixer. He would stay in his old room.

But he was too restless to unpack. Instead, he wandered the house—its spaces familiar and yet eerily different. Everything had been completely redecorated by the company that managed the rental property for him. It was cozy enough—and they had even turned the rec room in the basement into a theater room Beckett would have coveted as a kid—but it didn’t feel like home anymore.

Probably because it hadn’t been home in more than a decade. Or, if he was being honest, it hadn’t felt like home since Mom died.

He walked past the room that had been Dad’s office—now transformed into yet another bedroom—stopping a moment to stare at the closed door. That , at least, was familiar. Dad had spent most of his days—when he wasn’t traveling—shut up behind that door, barely seeming to be aware that he had a son.

But Dad would never sit behind that door again. Beckett let out a ragged breath. Why didn’t you make me listen sooner? his heart cried out to the Lord. So I could have told him. So he could have believed too.

The door opened, and Melissa, who would play his sister in the movie, stepped out. “Oh, Beckett, you scared me.”

“Sorry. I was just— Everything good with the room? Do you guys need anything?”

“It’s perfect. Right down to the chocolates on the pillows.” She held one up, unwrapped it, and popped it into her mouth. “I can’t believe you grew up here. You’re so fortunate.”

Beckett forced himself to nod.

Melissa slipped past him to the stairway in the middle of the hall. Beckett followed, mostly because he didn’t know what else to do.

But that path took him right through the great room, which he’d been working hard to avoid. He kept his head down, refusing to look at the spot where—

“Beckett, this place is amazing,” Sadie called from the wall of windows that looked out over the lake. “Look at that water—”

Beckett detoured toward her and gazed out over the lake. The waves had grown, the churning of their white caps matching the churning in Beckett’s soul.

“I mean, seriously, why did you ever leave this place?”

He shrugged. He didn’t really want to talk about it—not when being here made everything feel so much closer to the surface. “Lots of reasons.”

Sadie stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “If you say so. Will we see the sunset over the lake from here?”

“No. We’re on the east side of the island.”

“Oh perfect.” Sadie smiled warmly. “I’m going to do my morning devotion right here in front of the window and watch the sunrise. That sounds like a glorious way to start the day.”

“Mmm.” Beckett could probably count on one hand the number of times he’d watched the sunrise over the lake. He was most definitely not a morning person.

“Hey.” Maggie bustled into the room. “I thought we would do our cast Bible study before dinner, if you don’t mind. I’m so beat, I’m afraid I’ll end up falling asleep before we get to it otherwise.”

“Good idea,” Sadie agreed. “It’s like this room was almost made for it, with all the comfy seating and this incredible fireplace and—”

“You guys go ahead with Bible study,” Beckett blurted. The thought of sitting around and talking about God, in this room, where his life had fallen apart, was suddenly too much. “I’m going to run to the market to get some necessities.”

Maggie raised an eyebrow. “We brought food.”

“Yeah, but not milk and stuff. It won’t take me long. I’ll be back by the time you guys are done, and I’ll even make dinner.” He rushed out of the room before she could offer any further protests.

Outside, he heaved in a choked breath.

He should stay for Bible study. But it wasn’t mandatory—in fact, until a year and a half ago, he hadn’t gone to a single one. But now they were one of his favorite parts of filming.

Usually.

He shook his head and jumped into the van. As he sped toward town, he tried not to ask himself what kind of Christian he must be to run away from a Bible study in his own home.