Scott and Caitlin stood on the Double C property where the new house stood. A knot formed in her stomach as she remembered the old place. Would the images of the flames devouring it be forever ingrained in her mind? An arm went around her shoulders and gently squeezed. She glanced at Scott and gave him a wistful smile.

"Looks good. Lots of room," he said. Then he paused a moment and moved his arm from around her. "I actually miss the old place," he said, his voice soft and full of sadness. "That porch step was quite comfortable."

Caitlin gulped and waited a minute before speaking. This was more difficult than she had imagined. While she loved the new vision for Double C, she too missed the house she had called home for thirty years. "You looked like you were at home when you sat on that porch," she said.

He blushed for the first time since she had met him. "This place felt like a home should feel, or at least how I think home should feel. We had money and things, but we never did anything together. I hated it and him, still do, especially now." He slapped his leg.

Caitlin gently took his arm. "It's okay."

"Hell it is. He took away your house and your sense of security."

"You're partially right. I have my memories in here," and she pointed to her heart. "That house was the only house I know, but now I am moving forward in a positive manner. As for a sense of security-some days I don't know who or what to trust, but I have Garrett and Mrs. C and they'll help me get through this." She took his hand and said, "I have you too. Thank you for finally telling me the truth."

"You are an amazing woman. There's no other woman out there that I know who would be standing here talking to me after all I had done. I hope Garrett sees how special you are."

"He's starting to. I think this situation helped him put life in perspective." He moved away from her and she cringed. Talking with Scott about Garrett was like talking to your old best friend about your new best friend. It caused awkward moments all around.

They went inside to see some of the inside work that was finished. He ran his hand over the solid woodwork, surveying each board and each placement of nails, as if he had done the handiwork himself. She knew how bad he wanted to be the one building this place. "I'd love to ask for a job, but this town doesn't want me around," he said, sadness filling his words.

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