She stood beside his enormous oak chair.
Then placed both hands against his face.
The storm thundered outside.
The firelight moved across his scar.
And she whispered the five words that finally broke through ten years of guilt.
“You are worthy of love.”
Gideon looked into her eyes.
For the first time in a decade, he almost believed her.
Then she gave him Matthew's silver watch.
And the past he thought was buried beneath the north pass returned to Cedar Hollow.
For nearly an hour after Elena placed the watch in his hands, Gideon barely spoke.
He sat beside the fireplace, opening and closing the silver case as though the movement might somehow prove that the impossible had become real.
The little mechanism still worked.
Its hands were moving.
The glass was scratched, the hinge had been repaired clumsily, and a tiny mark near the clasp showed where Matthew had once tried to pry the case open with a pocketknife.
Gideon remembered that afternoon.
Matthew had been trying to remove a piece of dust trapped beneath the glass.
He'd nearly broken the watch.
Gideon had scolded him.
Matthew had laughed.
Then promised he would never touch the inside again.
The memory struck Gideon with such force that he pressed the watch against his forehead.
Elena sat quietly on the broad reinforced bench beside his chair.
She wanted to ask questions.
Wanted to comfort him.
But she understood that grief could become even more painful when hope unexpectedly returned.
Finally, Gideon lowered the watch.
“Tell me everything the stranger said.”
Elena nodded.
“He came just before closing. I remember because I'd already covered the bread for the evening.”
“What did he look like?”
“About thirty. Thin, with dark hair that had been cut unevenly. He walked with a limp.”
Gideon's expression changed.
“A limp?”
“Yes. His left leg, I think.”
He looked down.
Matthew hadn't limped when he disappeared.
Elena continued.
“He had a scar near his chin. And his eyes…”
She hesitated.
Gideon looked up.
“What about them?”
“They reminded me of yours.”
For several seconds, he stared toward the fire.
Then whispered, “He had our mother's eyes.”
Elena nodded.
“I remember thinking there was something familiar about him. But I didn't understand why.”
She explained that the man had entered during a quiet period, asked for tea, and sat near the back of the bakery.
He kept watching the street.