Focusing on everything and nothing, Mariano strained to instill the moment perfectly within his mind.

The sun was glinting just so through the aspens on the eastern edge of the yard. An intermittent breeze bounced along the dew, carrying moisture everywhere. Led by the hand, Sariah was returning to the safety of her home. The maid, whom he had always found quite lovely, and the cook were both patting him on the back, saying kind words. The quirky, dark-skinned gardener was kneeling on the other side of a flower bed, lost in prayer.

And Mrs. Montefort had smiled at him, a weary yet grateful smile. Her life had been turned chaotic, and he had made it right.

A problem. A solution.

A crisis. Well directed action.

More than the scene, Mariano wanted to remember the feeling, this awe inspiring feeling. There was power. There was effectiveness. There was righteousness, of a sort.

Though he wouldn’t have called it such at the time, there something more. There was a calling to heed, a path to follow.