“Yes, that’s true,” she admitted.

“Good friends. Weren’t we?”

A faint smile touched her lips. “Good enough to sleep together, anyway.”

He felt himself flush. “That’s not what I’m talking about! It’s not just the sleeping together. It’s-” He gazed at her with painful honesty. “It’s knowing there’s a possibility for us. A possibility that I’ll be seeing you every morning when I wake up. I can wait, Claire. I can live with the uncertainty.

It’s not easy, but I can stand it, as long as there’s a chance we’ll be together. That’s all I’m really asking for.”

Something sparkled in her eyes. Tears of forgiveness? he wondered. She reached out and stroked his face. It was the gentle caress of a lover. Even better than that, it was the touch of a friend.

“Anything’s possible, Lincoln,” she said softly. And she smiled.

He was actually whistling when he walked out of the hospital. And why shouldn’t he? The sky was blue, the sun was shining, and the ice- encrusted branches of willow trees clacked and glittered like hanging crystals. In two weeks would come the longest night of the year. Then the days would open up again, the earth cycling back toward light and warmth. Toward hope.

Anything’s possible.

Lincoln Kelly was a patient man, and he could wait.