Chapter Eighteen
Casey already knew what it was like to hope that Ben’s absence was just a dream. The second time, she had to accept that it was real. All she could do was push through each day until its end, hoping for a time when all the pain would be nothing but memory, distant and numb. She hardly noticed the last groups of campers who passed through the grounds, preferring to keep to herself and avoid meeting anyone new.
Until the art dealer came.
September had been the final push of the busy season at the campground. Although the temperature dropped so low at night that her morning swims left her skin red, the afternoon sun lit up the trees, leaves exploding into color so that the whole range looked like fire dancing in the breeze. Most of the summer tourists had been driven away,
