Everyday Blessings by Jillian Hart Page B

squeezed his eyes shut, but the image of the black storm clouds closing over the sunset’s crimson glow remained, along with the desire to capture it on film. A desire he’d thought long gone.
    He knew why. Aubrey. For some reason, seeing her had started this. She’d thawed a frozen part of him just enough to feel. Or maybe he’d simply been ready. It had been over four years. They say time heals all things, even, he supposed, a loss so deep.
    The phone’s insistent ring continued. He checked the caller ID; it was her. His heart skipped from fear that she was calling with bad news—also an unease that she was calling at all. He’d saidtoo much to her. He’d let the vulnerable truth spill out as if it was nothing, nothing at all. He’d opened himself up too much, and now there was no way to pull back his words. No way to hit Delete, rewind and try playing it differently. He would, if he could. So, why did his hand shoot out and grab the cordless handset?
    Because he couldn’t stand to sit in the growing darkness any longer. “Hello?”
    â€œWilliam? I’m glad I caught you. This is Aubrey McKaslin.”
    Yeah, he knew. There was the image of her, graced by the light in the chapel, all purity and sweetness. He’d learned long ago that looks were deceiving, or at least that’s what he reminded himself of, so he wouldn’t start believing in anyone again. “Hi, Aubrey. How’s Jonas doing?”
    â€œHe’s still in a coma and unresponsive. We’re not sure what’s going to happen next, though. We’re just trying to take it one step at a time.”
    â€œThat’s a nice way of saying they don’t expect him to come out of the coma, right?”
    â€œNo one wants to actually say that, but, yeah. The chances aren’t good.”
    He squeezed his eyes shut again. He knew what it was like to wait and wonder and pray against all odds.
    â€œWilliam, I have to let you know. Danielle found the photograph you brought over the othernight. It made a real difference for her. She said it gave her hope. We have you to thank for that.”
    â€œNot me.” No one seemed to understand that.
    â€œIt was a good thing you did for Jonas. You have no idea what a difference you made.”
    â€œIt was sitting in a closet, gathering dust.”
    The warmth in Aubrey’s voice told him she wouldn’t be fooled. “You did a lot of good for Danielle, and that’s making a lot of difference to my family, William. You did that, and I’m so grateful. I wanted you to know.”
    William watched the black turmoil of the storm clouds crush out the last spears of dying sunlight. He tried to do the same to Aubrey’s words. On one level, he’d had a lot of this over the years since he’d been a widower. Whether women meant well or not, too many of them had not been sincere. They’d thought he would be a financially advantageous man to marry.
    He knew in his gut that Aubrey meant what she said. Her family mattered to her, the way his once had to him. Maybe that’s why she’d seemed to inspire that innate, soul-deep need to pick up a camera again. He was able to see her heart, and it was not so different from his own.
    As for the work, what she didn’t know was what no one understood. The beauty he found with a lens didn’t come from him, but through him. All things good came from God. But itwasn’t a discussion he felt up for. He said what was easier.
    â€œIf it helped her, I’m glad. How about you? Are you still taking care of your sister’s kids?”
    â€œNot as much, now that my dad and stepmom are up from Arizona to help out.”
    â€œIt must have put a dent in your social life.”
    Aubrey rolled her eyes. Had she heard him right? “That is my social life. I pretty much babysit for Danielle most Friday nights anyway, and my big plans for Saturday night are usually with at