Mr. Wrong by Taryn A. Taylor Page A

had to move forward. “My dad would want me to finish the semester and do well.” One stray tear came down her face. “When you just think there can’t be any water left in your whole body . . .”
    Beau gently rubbed the tear with his thumb. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Sara.” He put his hand on top of hers on the seat.
    Sara saw the compassion in his eyes and felt confused. “Who did you lose, Beau?”
    He looked down then back to her. “My dad. My wife.” His eyes were steady.
    Sara rocked back. “What?”
    “On my mission, my dad had a heart attack.” Beau waved his hand in the air. “I have always wished I’d talked to him when he’d tried to call the day before I left. It’s been a huge regret for me.” He took a deep breath. “And it’s been almost three years since my wife passed away. We were only married for nine months. The cancer was too advanced when we found out.”
    Sara noticed he was blinking rapidly. She grabbed onto his hand fully and squeezed it. “I’m sorry, Beau.”
    He tried to laugh. “See, I know all about crappy things happening.” He squeezed her hand back gently and rubbed his eyes with the back of his other hand. “I couldn’t stand for you to face it all alone, Sara.”
    Sara looked at Beau’s face and wondered why everything between them seemed to change in an instant. It was like she was finally seeing who he really was.
    “Do you want to walk with me to Dad’s favorite spot?”
    Sucking in a breath he nodded. “Sure.”
    They got out o f the car, and Sara peered through the large front windows into the house. People from the ward were inside, balancing plates of food on their laps. She didn’t think she could stand to shake another hand at the moment. “This way.”
    Beau picked up her hand , and they walked in companionable silence watching the orange sky glowing behind the mountains.
    “What was she like?” Sara thought of Beau’s grief at losing his wife.
    “She was too good for this world.” He kicked a small rock on the road.
    Sara pulled him a little ways off of the path and then quickly kicked her leg over the wooden fence. “I know it’s not lady like to climb a fence in a dress.”
    Beau hiked over it and laughed. “I think we’re past that. Plus, I’d rather have you climb than carry you.” He smiled mischievously.
    She smacked him in th e arm, and he laughed, feeling her mood lighten just being with him. “So this is it. He said it reminded him of the sacred grove.” She sat on a stone bench. “He put this here.” She patted the side of the bench. The huge trees towered over them, leaving a hole in the center. A bright shadow filled it with light.
    Beau sat down and turned to her. “It’s beautiful.”
    Sara turned to him and saw the way he was looking at her.
    He cleared his throat, again, and looked away. “Would you come here often?”
    Sara thought of her dad’s face and felt a deep peace come over her. “Yes. He would sit here with all of us at different times and really talk . That’s what he would say. ‘Let’s go really talk in the grove.’” She smiled at Beau.
    He put his arm gently around her shoulders and pulled her into him. “He gave you all such a gift. He was a good man that loved you.”
    She nodded, feeling drained. “I should probably get back to the house. My brothers will wonder where I am.” She stood and Beau stood too. They both stared into each other’s eyes. Sara felt like she finally understood Beau a little bit. All the callousness and sarcasm was there to protect him. But he was really a good person.
    “Are you doing okay?”
    Sara thought of the quasi-breakdown she’d had two days ago in the barn and a calmness filled her heart. “It’s strange—ya know. I was so mad that day. And, it’s just been a rough couple of years seeing him get sicker and sicker. But when we surrounded him before he passed—I just . . .” Another tear broke free and her voice broke. “The Spirit was so