Nate cursed savagely under his breath. His bleeding finger was covered in filth and it stung. He sat back and examined his work. The bright yellow daisies framed Adele Tennison's gravestone beautifully. Nate gave the dirt around the roots a few more good pats before standing up. He stared down at his mother's grave, and then looked to his left, to his fathers'. Being able to bury his parents next to one another was one of the only minuscule consolations Nate had. Six months had only slightly dulled the ache he had in his chest. But he didn't want the ache to go. It was a deep reminder of the ones he loved and lost. He didn't want to forget them. He bent down and gathered the gardening tools into a bag. He stared down at his bleeding finger as he walked towards his car. He opened it and chucked the bag into the passenger seat before closing the door. He then turned and walked back to St. Michael's.
It had taken months to rebuild after the fire. The police confirmed it was arson, but the investigation had no leads or witnesses. Nate knew they'd set it on the back burner. With no other positive outlet for his grief, Nate had thrown himself into work and rebuilding the church. He'd covered most of the costs and had personally taken charge in overseeing its reconstruction. Right after work he would head straight for St. Michael's and monitor the progress. His days off from his company were spent at St. Michael's, alongside Pastor Donovan, who suggested improvements that were to be made. Nate spent all his money on the project, gladly. He'd grown even closer with Pastor Donovan and Jane, who just loved having all the big strong men around. She'd blush haughtily at Nate's open flirtations and always rewarded the worker with homemade treats. Nate was glad to see her like this. The first couple of months had been particularly hard for Jane, with Peyton being gone.
Peyton.
Nate hadn't seen her since the night his mother had died. He hadn't gotten a single word from her. Pastor Donovan had related the events of that night at the church to him and had insisted that Nate go find her.
"No." Nate had said. "I was awful to her. She needs her space. She'll come back soon and we'll all talk this out."
But she didn't come back. Month after month had gone by and no one, not Nate, not Pastor Donovan, not even Jane had gotten any word from Peyton. And because of this, Nate had grieved virtually alone. Addison did make feeble attempts to contact him, but Nate was adamant about shutting her out; about shutting everyone out. His nights were spent alone and in the dark. It was a routine for him now and he accepted it. He accepted the nightmares about his mother and father. He accepted the loneliness that crept up on him and stayed for long periods of time. He accepted his own unhappiness and resided in the fact that he may never be happy again. Everything was cold. It was a constant chill in his body, in his mind, in his heart. It started deep in his gut about three months after his mother died and he'd decided that Peyton wasn't coming back. It filled his core and was apparent in his eyes and voice. A strong frost had settled around Nate's heart, and there it remained, numbing him.
Even the sting Nate felt in his finger now as he entered St. Michael's seemed to be coming from far away. He entered through the back door and into the kitchen. Jane was in there, as usual, and smiled at him. Her smiled faulted as she looked at him. Nate was a very attractive man, but his hollow face was unsettling. He'd grown a beard in the last few weeks and a thick scruff that would have normally made him more dashing just added to his shambled, uncaring appearance. He was constantly pale now. Nate had retained a glowing tan during the summer through St. Michael's rebuilding that didn't fit his cold eyes. But now, as the fall started to roll in, Nate avoided the sun and it showed. His hair was still relatively short, but very thick and very dark. But there was dullness to it now. However, Nate had been able to keep his body in shape with the hard labor of putting the church back together.
Jane's eyes scanned him and she noticed how his muscles were defined beneath his dark plaid shirt. Yes, Nate was an attractive man; but his eyes, those unsettling eyes. And the constant frown he kept on his face made him hard to even try and connect to; but she tried anyway.
"Hello, sweetheart!" Jane perked up in forced enthusiasm. "Done already?"
"Yeah," Nate grunted. He walked over to the sink without really looking at Jane. He turned on the tap and began washing the soil from his hand. Jane saw crimson droplets mixed in with the dirt.
"Oh, honey, you're hurt!" Jane observed.
"Just a cut," Nate said without lifting his head. "Don't worry about it."
His hands were almost clean.
"Well, you should let me clean it up anyway," Jane shut off the water and ushered Nate into a stool. "You never know. C'mon, hun." He followed, none too complacently. He sat on a stool by the kitchen island while Jane got the first aid kit. She came and sat in front of him and grabbed his hand. Nate stared off into space like she wasn't even there.
"The daisies still fairing ok?" she asked as she cleaned the cut.
Nate just nodded. "Good. I'm glad." An awkward silence fell upon the two, so Jane kept talking.
"The shelter is sure to be busy soon. With the cold settling in, we'll probably have a lot of runaways to deal with. But I'm excited. I can't thank you enough for helping us build it. It's such a contribution to the community."
"It was your idea Jane. And you're the one running the place. I just throw cash at you when you need it."
Jane shook her head. "No, Nate, you've done so much more. Building a runaway shelter in extension to the church was your doing. Though, I must say, I loved that you named it 'Jane's Place'."
"I'm not entirely sure what came over me," Nate just sighed. "I guess after everything with..." Nate trailed off.
"Peyton," Jane added softly.
"Yeah. Her. After everything with her, it kind of fit, ya know? And the people in this neighborhood liked the idea, so why not right? You're doing a great job as head honcho. You work well with the runaways and you're always good about finding them new homes."
Jane blushed. "Aw thank you honey. I love the job. It's giving me a new lease on life. I'm always busy now, between coming here and to Jane's Place. And Matt is always around to help too."
Jane had met Matthew Warden a few weeks into the building of Jane's Place and the two had hit it off right away. He was the supervisor during the construction and had worked closely with Jane. He was older and kind of a burly fellow, but he seemed to be perfect for Jane. He was tall and husky and smiled just as often as Jane did. Nate may not show it outwardly, but he liked that Jane had a man with her, to remind her how wonderful she was.
It was then that he looked at her and felt a tinge of guilt at the icy wall he had built between them. Jane had acted as surrogate mother to Nate, as she did with everyone, and he didn't even remember saying thank you. He placed his hand over hers and looked into her eyes. Jane was almost startled by the flicker of warmth she saw behind them.
"I mean it, Jane. Thank you. For everything."
She smiled wide and leaned over to hug Nate. He hugged her back, kind of awkwardly, but genuine.