Hidden Falls

Quinn
– 55, long-time resident, teacher, and beloved citizen of Hidden Falls.

Sylvia Alexander
– 52, Quinn’s oldest and dearest friend, mayor of Hidden Falls, daughter of Emma.

Lauren Nock
– 28, family ministry director at Our Savior Community Church. Niece of Sylvia Alexander.

Liam Elliott
– 38, investment consultant, fiancé to Jessica McCarthy, brother to Cooper, cousin to Dani Roose.

Cooper Elliott
– 34, works in law enforcement as a sheriff’s deputy. Brother to Liam, cousin to Dani Roose.

Dani Roose
– 32, cousin to Liam and Cooper Elliot, makes her living doing odd jobs, handy person, computer nerd. Loves the lake, fishing, solitude.

Nicole Sandquist
– 30, investigative reporter in St. Louis, Missouri, who grew up with and dated Ethan Jordan.

Ethan Jordan, MD
– 30, neurosurgeon in Columbus, Ohio, who grew up with and dated Nicole Sandquist.

Jack Parker
– 40, lawyer, recently moved his family to Hidden Falls. Wife, Gianna; son, Colin; daughters, Eva and Brooke.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Thirty-one years ago

U
ndeterred by the persistent mist that Hidden Falls cast off, she paced a few feet ahead of him. Reluctantly, he’d released her hand when the path narrowed and they could no longer walk side by side. She paused now, and Quinn knew she was taking care with the abrupt nineteen-inch drop that briefly steepened the stony descent to their destination in another twenty yards.

Sylvia’s head turned and she caught Quinn’s eye. The core of him went soft at the sight. That smile. The flush of pleasure in this day. The way she embraced the beauty of life, whatever it brought. When he touched her, he sometimes thought his knees were jelly.

He took the deep step off the ledge behind her, and they were side by side again. She reached for his hand, and he gave it. With the other, Quinn patted his jacket pocket, reassuring himself that the small lump he had zipped in was still there. He’d been carrying it around for days, transferring it from one pocket to another. If he was going to remove it, this would be the moment. Neither of them would forget this sunny spring day behind Hidden Falls with full hearts of gratitude for each other.

Quinn dropped Sylvia’s hand and put an arm across the back of her shoulders to pull her against him, hip to hip, and walk in step these last few yards. Leaning into his shoulder, Sylvia raised her mouth for a kiss and Quinn obliged.

The spring wind gusted, and the mist felt more like rain as they moved into the hollow of rock behind the tumbling falls. Hidden Falls were not impressively high, but water plunging out Whisper Lake cascaded past this space in a liquid wall before crashing into a bed of rocks below. The winding hike down to the hollow was not one many people bothered with. Tourists were content to hike along the edge of the lake at the top of the falls, and many residents of the town of Hidden Falls were so used to the sight that they barely saw it anymore. With their arms around each other, Quinn and Sylvia tilted their single gaze upward and blinked against the spray that struck their faces from random angles. Sunlight streaming through rushing water danced rainbows around them. Greenery budded with fragrance and promise. Water surged endlessly past them in a vertical river. Though Quinn was only in his second year in the town, he could not imagine tiring of this scene no matter if he lived in Hidden Falls for thirty years. This place had given him a new beginning.

Quinn nudged Sylvia back a few steps, deeper into the hollow, where they could watch the water and remain dry at the same time. They would hear each other better without competing against the collision of moving water and immovable rock. If the words stumbling around his heart passed through his lips, he wanted her to hear them clearly.

At the moment, though, Quinn wanted only to kiss Sylvia. Uninterrupted. Ravenously. Repeatedly. Her form molded against his, as hungry for him as he was for her. If ever he was going to share his life with a woman, Sylvia was that woman. If ever he was going to propose, this was the moment.

“Mmm.” Sylvia broke the kiss, trailing hot breath across his face. “This is a perfect day. You … here …”

The slits of her eyes widened, questioning. This was what Sylvia’s face looked like when hope hung before her, present yet intangible, dangling yet beyond her grasp.

Quinn could fulfill that hope. He could give it shape and light. He was certain of the ring in his pocket—they had strolled the shops of downtown Birch Bend together and considered dozens of possibilities. This was the one Sylvia wanted to wear for the rest of her life, eventually with the silver band that would match one on his hand. Had she felt the lump in his jacket during their embrace? Had it stirred her hope of a perfect day? Perhaps it was unkind of him to carry around the velvet box, making her wonder when the moment would rise from ordinariness and lay out her future before her.

It was the nightmares that held him back.
Nightmares
was the wrong word, though. While he did wake in the night, sweating and gasping and scrambling to turn on every light in the room, the days also brimmed with grief and violent distraction.

It still felt fresh and frightening, and Quinn wasn’t sure it would ever change. The holes inside him might be bottomless.

One moment could change everything.

Could this exquisite moment on this perfect day, in the safe hollow of Hidden Falls, heal the fracture that ran through him?

Quinn put a hand in his jacket pocket and wrapped his fingers around the box. Then starting with his thumb and uncurling one finger at a time, he forced himself to open his hand and leave the box where it lay.

Sylvia knew Quinn more deeply than anyone else he had ever known. But she didn’t know everything. And it wasn’t fair to ask her to share a life of shadows.

He stroked her cheek and looked into those stunning, deep eyes before kissing her one last time.

Present Day
Saturday
9:27 a.m.

I
t’s Saturday morning. Get in the car.” Sylvia Alexander gripped the hedge clippers and prepared to forcibly remove them from Ted Quinn’s hands.

“And what if I don’t want to go?” Quinn eyed Sylvia but released the clippers.

“You said you wanted a normal day. On a normal Saturday, you and I have breakfast on Main Street before I check on the shop.”

Quinn tilted his head toward the garage. “You know where those go. Give me a minute to change my ratty sweater.” He clomped up the porch steps and into the house.

Sylvia examined the progress Quinn had made since yesterday on trimming overgrown bushes across the front of the house. He must have been working at least two hours already. She crossed to the open detached garage, savoring the crunch of tumbled maple leaves under her feet, and hung the clippers on their hook between the old-as-the-hills hacksaw and the hammer with the longest handle and widest claw.

When Sylvia met Quinn, he hardly knew how to grip a hammer properly. Now he owned the most varied tool collection in Hidden Falls. He bought the old house almost thirty years ago and took odd delight in the discovery that one wall of the garage was pegboard. As Quinn remodeled, one room at a time, he added a hook to the pegboard for each new tool.

Sylvia watched each room take shape, unsure how to interpret Quinn’s invitations for her opinions of his taste before he was too far in to turn back from his plan. Gradually she accepted that her opinions were all he wanted. She would never share his home.

Then came the preoccupation with landscaping and another class of tools. Even Dani Roose, who did odd jobs around town, knew Quinn owned any tool she needed.

Sylvia pulled the garage door down, wondering when Quinn was going to give in and install a garage door opener.

By the time Quinn emerged from the house, Sylvia had her engine idling and her hand on the gearshift. He opened the passenger door and slid into the seat. When had his hair receded another half inch toward the back of his skull? And gone another shade whiter?

Sylvia put the ten-year-old red Ford Taurus in gear. “It won’t be so bad, you know.”

“Of course not. Breakfast is my favorite meal.” Quinn turned his head and met her gaze with a smile. “Especially with my oldest and dearest friend.”

Wistfulness floated through his expression as it so often did. Even after all these years, some days she couldn’t bear what she saw there. Sylvia had stopped asking questions years ago.

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it,” Sylvia said. “Don’t change the subject.”

As mayor of Hidden Falls, Illinois, Sylvia felt obliged to set an example, so she observed the residential speed limit on the two-mile stretch of road that angled from Quinn’s neighborhood of old houses into what everyone called “downtown”—a few square blocks of shops, restaurants, professional businesses, and churches. She eased the car into a parking spot at a right angle to the entrance of the Fall Shadows Café.

Inside, Gavin Owens gave them a wave from behind the counter. “You’re late.”

“That’s my fault,” Quinn mumbled.

“I hope your big day isn’t getting off to a rough start.” Gavin raised a bushy eyebrow.