Finding Hope by Brenda Coulter

friend. May I say goodbye to him?”
    â€œDr. Hartman?” echoed one of the women. “He’s been asking for you. We couldn’t think who he meant.”
    Charles approached the bed and slumped into the chair beside it. When he put his hand on John’s, the old man’s eyes opened.
    â€œCan I do anything for you, Gramps?” Charles had surprised himself by using Hope’s name for the man, but it had been exactly the right thing to do. The dull blue eyes opened wider and a weak smile of recognition lit the haggard face.
    â€œHope sends her love,” Charles said, low enough so that only Gramps could hear.
    â€œAnd mine to her,” the old man replied in a feeble whisper. “Take care of her, Charles.”
    Charles looked at him in bewilderment. Who was he to be charged with such a responsibility? What could he possibly do for Hope? All he had to give her was money, but she wouldn’t take that, however much she might need it.
    â€œWe’ll just step outside for a minute,” one of the women said to Charles. He half turned, but didn’t look at her as he nodded.
    The old man was whispering again, so Charles bent closer. “She’s for you.” Gramps sighed.
    Charles panicked. “No, you don’t understand. It’s not like that with Hope and me.”
    â€œI understand…everything now” was the man’s answer. “She’s…for you, Charles.” The weary eyes closed again and a few minutes later John Seltzer’s last breath went out in a fluttery sigh. Charles was still holding his hand.
    Was it just an old man’s fond wish? How could anyone who cared for Hope wish Charles Hartman on her? The dying man couldn’t possibly have known what he was saying.
    I understand…everything now.
    No. It simply wasn’t true. Hope wasn’t for him. She was far too young. Too sweet. And too good for him, in every way.
    Charles had made it clear that he had nothing to give a woman, but Hope wasn’t looking for romance. He knew very well what she saw in him: he was a friend who needed saving. Hope’s compassion knew no bounds and she was going after Charles like a lifeguard after a drowning man.
    What she stubbornly failed to accept was that he couldn’t be saved. And he wasn’t worth saving, anyway.
    He had pretty much come to terms with their odd relationship. From the beginning he’d been helplessly drawn to her. She was an amazing kid, someone interesting to talk to. A breath of fresh air in his stale life. Her faith and her personality appeared to be fully integrated somehow, and that intrigued him.
    He gave her everything he could, though that wasn’t much. She could command him to do anything, and she knew that, but he was perfectly safe with her. And she was safe with him, just as long as he continued to think of her as a kid. If he ever began to look on her as a woman, it would be all too easy to hurt her.
    Charles looked at the fragile hand he still held in his own. With everything in him he wished Gramps couldhear and understand. And forgive him for not being the kind of man Hope needed.
    When a nurse entered the room, Charles sighed and got to his feet. “Just now,” he said quietly, answering her unspoken question. He left without another word.
    Hope looked up as he entered the lounge. She read his face in an instant. “He’s gone home?” she asked in a surprisingly steady voice.
    Nodding miserably, Charles took the chair beside her. He watched her face, bracing himself for a torrent of tears, but her eyes were calm and, incredibly, the corners of her mouth were slightly turned up. Her peaceful expression intensified the confusion he felt. “Hope?” he ventured. “Can it really be wonderful?”
    Her smile widened and her bright blue eyes sparkled like clear mountain lakes under the summer sun. That was all the answer she gave him.
    â€œBut it hurts,