by Tanya Hanson
“Because there’s more.”
More? Heston’s heart stilled.
She nodded, eyes bright with tears. “Heston, I did make great progress. I found a support group, got checked out by a doctor. No baby. No diseases. Met Cate. We started writing. It’s very cathartic, by the way. I got better. Then...” Her lids slowly closed as if holding off the nightmare’s surge. “Kyle started friend-requests on social media. And all my professional groups. I...was working at a PR firm in Dallas by then.”
“What? When?” Horror danced down Heston’s back.
“Three years ago. Just out of the blue. After two years, and just as Cate and I sold our first book. That’s when I left PR and got my anonymous job. So he couldn’t find me. Kyle found ways to countermand any and all of my privacy settings, everywhere. I was so scared.” Her shoulders shook beneath his embrace. “But we had a book coming out, for heaven’s sake. Promotions to do, book signings. So Cate and I decided she’d be the face of Cady Lomax.” Lori looked away. “She’s a survivor too. But he’s in prison.”
“Did Kyle threaten you?” Heston’s skin crawled.
“Nope. Just private messages that he’d been thinking about me. That he’d like us long-lost friends to reconnect. Friends?” She spat. “Reconnect?”
Her agony clung to the last word.
Heston drew her close. “That’s a start at identifying him.”
“You’d think, but he’s smart about manipulating IP addresses. He keeps his locations hidden. Uses proxies, public Wi-Fi’s. Anonymous usernames. Dummy accounts.” Her dead tone sounded like a grocery list. “I’ve got geek friends who never found any traceable digital footprints. Kyle uses some kind of self-destruct functionality that obliterates his messages and pictures.”
“But the police...”
“I never reported the assault. So there’s no sense now. All Kyle’s doing is friend-requests. Not exactly a crime.” Lori traced the labyrinth in the air with her finger. “My phone’s long gone, if he left a fingerprint behind. I have no physical evidence. There is no statute of limitations if I had anything with his DNA on it, but my grandmother washed all my clothes. Scrubbed me senseless herself.” Then her gaze met his full on. “Heston, there’s no legal justice I could get. And he never threatened me in the messages. There’s no—compromising photographs, thank God. He just pops in from time to time. It’s up to me now. I just want peace of mind.”
“So that’s why you hide. So he can’t see you.”
She scowled. “I call it privacy, but yes. I blocked his attempts, took down my social accounts. So far, lately, so good.”
Unease iced Heston’s spine. “Do you fear he stalks you? I mean, in the real not cyber world?”
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “I don’t get out much, but I admit I’ve felt eyes on me a few times. The airport. Shopping for my bridesmaid dress for Cate’s wedding. Things I have to do in person. And it might just be paranoia. He’s never there when I look twice.” Lori’s breathing quickened, her body tensed. “The PR firm’s address was on the professional site he hacked. I’m not there in Dallas anymore, but still. He’s smart. But at first, I didn’t worry much. Even if he saw my address on my driver’s license that night, I’d already moved out of my apartment at UTEP.” Her restless hands grabbed his again.
“And right away, I took every ‘stolen identity’ precaution I could think of, when I could think straight again. Job, employer, credit card. Anything like that. But yeah. It crosses my mind. That’s why I help only behind the scenes at my parents’ ranch. There’s so many people passing through.” She swallowed so hard he heard. “And in reality, it is just he said/she said. I don’t even know his last name. Or if Kyle is his real name.”
“The friending contact...”
“Kyle Smith. And yeah, I looked him up. A million Internet images and none of them him. So you get it now, right? Why I keep my life in the shadows, off the grid.” She blinked fast as if chasing away more tears. “I can live with that.”
“Even if it means”—he spoke slowly, deliberately—“you can’t live a life with me in it?”
Silence hung between them louder than the bells pealing in the steeple.
“What do you mean?”
“We’ve got something special brewing, Lori. You feel it, too, don’t you?”
She blushed, looked away. Her hair drifted in the wind, and he brushed it from her cheek.
“Yeah, I can’t deny it,” she said finally. “But you live with cameras humming around you. Cate ran a search on you last night. Of course I told her about you.”
Just Lori’s simple grin heated Heston’s blood.
“Try as you might not, you’re all over the Internet. The hot cowboy and last single Calhoun. How could it be otherwise, with your family’s ‘occupation’?”
His spirit soared. After all, she’d just called him a hot cowboy. “Don’t you think we deserve a chance to find out what it could all mean?” he asked.
The tips of her boots toe-danced on the bricks. Then she stared at her feet. “Heston, I want to, but I’m scared. I have a lot of baggage. I doubt you want to haul it around.”
“Let me be the judge of that. Don’t you think God led us here, now, for a reason?”
With a sniff, she gazed up at him. “The God leading me part…I’ve been places where I don’t think He’d want to be seen with me.”
“He wants you no matter where you’ve been, or who you think you are. He’s always our loving Father.” Father, let me somehow ease her pain, clear her doubt. “I’m sure of Him. Think about it. You said you’ve never come to Colorado for Christmas before. And I’m only here for Christmas every other year. If you’d decided to come last year, or next, we’d have missed our opportunity.”
Her fingers tightened. “I know. I do understand when you say stuff like that. You’re pretty irresistible. Maybe we deserve to figure it all out. If I could get over your very public persona. I’d have to look over my shoulder every minute.”
Heston ran out of air to breath. “What do you mean?” His voice made no sound at all.
“My granddad has asked me to stick around to help with his business. Like I did those summers ago. Get him ready for retirement sometime next year.”
Joy exploded over Heston like fireworks turning to snowflakes. She was going to try. And she…might stay. He held whatever breath he had and took the plunge. “After that, well, I know for a fact we’ll have a PR opening for the wind farm. And for everything else, your writing, you won’t need to hide your light any more, Lori. Or your face. I’ll be here.”
She tensed again. “Heston, I don’t need somebody to protect me.”
“I know that. I meant...I meant, I’ll be around as a friend. Or more than that. If you want. If you let me.” He skipped a gentle finger across her mouth.
“Oh, I do think I do. Want that. I do.” She gave a little nervous laugh. “Too many do’s?”
Heston grinned back. “Just the right amount. You’re the wordsmith, after all. Lori...” He took her hand and tenderly rubbed his palm across hers. “Dad has many connections through the show. It could be possible to find Kyle and end this.”
“End this? How? Why?” Her words rustled, and he reckoned her skin did, too.
“Forgive Kyle.” He kept on, despite her wide eyes. “Don’t let him live inside your head anymore. Forgive your grandparents. But most of all, forgive yourself.”
Her beautiful face reddened, and not with cold. With anger with insult.
“Forgive him? Kyle?” She glared. “How can I forget?”
“I didn’t say forget. But forgiveness is the Lord’s command. Not mine.”
“Well, you said your—experience, you relive it.” Her eyes softened a little.
“Yep, I said that. And I guess I do. But I have learned, trusted, so it doesn’t overwhelm me as much.”
She half smiled. “Well, I get that. But you’ve had more time, maybe. I’m still a work in progress.” She squeezed his
hand. “Forgiveness is a tough deal, Heston.”
It would be so easy to look away now, at the busy kids running through the courtyard to Sunday school. Miriam. But he looked directly into Lori’s midnight eyes. “The Lord...”
Long brown waves danced down her back as she shook her head. “But forgive my grandparents? What’s with that? We get along fine.”
“But that’s part of what you carry around. Forgive them. For not following the proper procedures. For not protecting you the way they should have—even after-the-fact.”
She settled against the garden bench. “Hmmmm. I guess you’re right. What if they had done the right things to find Kyle? Before he nested inside my head? So I get your point. But not about forgiving myself.”
“Lori, not because you did anything wrong, then. Because you didn’t trust enough. After.”
Winter sun warmed him through, just at the expression on her face.
“You’re right. Oh, I have struggled with faith and trust.” She chewed her mittened thumb. “I might always, you know.”
“I do know. Happens to everybody. Until we’re made perfect in Heaven.”
Her smile lit up his world. “Well, Mr. Heston Calhoun, I think you missed your calling. As a counselor or minister.”
“Nope. Not me. I’m a cowboy. Through and through. Just passing on what I’ve learned.” He laced a cowboy drawl with earnestness.
She nodded, held tighter to his hand. “You know, you’re making sense. About everything. And well, it wouldn’t be killer expensive for me to get back to San Antonio from time to time.”
Did that mean she was caving, about staying? He held his breath.
“Maybe the Lord does want us to have a chance,” she whispered.
“I’m willing to take that chance,” he said when he found air again. “And for that matter, your parents might get here more often, too. And another thought doesn’t escape me.”
“What thought? My brain’s swimming with possibilities as it is.”
“How you might be a support leader. A spokeswoman. For other survivors of this awful crime.” He chose his words with care, for he meant every single one. “Put yourself out there. Raise even more awareness about date-rape, predator rape.”
“Heston, you cannot mean...” Tension clouded her eyes, and he hated putting worry back there, but...
“I do mean. Lori, you’d have the mouthpiece of Dad’s show to start from. I know he’d be on board.
She sat up straight, away from him on the hard little garden bench, and he felt her loss like a gut punch.
“That’s too much, Heston. I don’t know if I’ve got the courage for that. Every day waking up, knowing Kyle could find me.”
“You’re stronger than you think. You’d have a great support system behind you. Me, for one. I think you could be a great help to other women. Both support after-the-fact, and raising awareness.” Heston touched the tip of her nose. “And my dad. I know you had computer friends trying to find Kyle, but...” He slowed.
“My geek friends are apt,” she threw in, defensive, but she moved a little closer. “I know they do everything possible.”
“But Bloodstone could do more. They’ve got technology you and I can’t even imagine.”
“Bloodstone? I don’t understand.” Her eyes widened wide as the sky at mention of the world’s foremost tech conglomerate of digital communication and entertainment.
Heston rolled his eyes. “They’re making an interactive video game based on Dad’s show. A build-and-run-your-own-ranch concept. So, Bloodstone’s got cyber-magicians. Maybe they can lift a photo of Kevin Smith from your defunct social files or email caches. Or servers from the professional online organizations.”
“I can’t see how. We tried. Or why.” Her eyes grew bigger yet.
“Here’s why.” Heston took her hand. “If we can somehow find his face, we could get it out there. You’re probably not his first or only. He’s a criminal, Lori.”
Her face relaxed, took on a glow that had nothing to do with the sunlight. “I keep remembering the self-destruct thing, but I do know a great artist. I bet Scottie can do a pretty awesome sketch for me.” She rubbed her eyes. “Kyle’s lived inside my head for long time. Sometimes he’s a blur, and I can hardly remember. Other times, he comes crashing back so real I could slap his face.” She shook off a shudder and smiled again. “You know, Heston, I think I’m on board, too. Not to sound helpless, but if you help.”
Hadn’t God Himself said something about a man’s helpmeet? His breath caught again. “I’ll be right by your side. Every step of the way. And by the way...”
Whether this was the time or place, whether it was even a plan Heston could make work, he had to let it all out. “And if you can believe it, I hit the Internet myself last night. The Hill River Ranch is up for sale.”
Her lovely face crumpled with confusion. “What? Where’s that?”
“Once upon a time, the spread was called Rio Colina. That’s Hill River in Spanish.”
“Oh. Wow.” Her mouth made a pretty pink O.
On cue, he rose from the bench and gently pulled her up beside him. Shaking off his jacket, he slid into it, realized her body so close to him had held off any morning chill. Around them, churchgoers herded to the Fireside Room for coffee hour. Once in a while, someone waved. “Let’s take a walk.”
“I’d like that. Coffee? Brunch?”
“Later. There’s something I need more than food at this moment.”
“What could that possibly be?” she asked. From the glint gentling in her blue eyes, he read her invitation. Hand in hand, they left the churchyard.
Surefooted on the icy sidewalk, he drew her into the shelter of a trolley stop on Main Street, away, alone. Together. “This.”
Like he’d never let her go, he held her tight against his chest and posed her mouth to his.
Their first kiss tasted of warmth and Christmas, of now, and all the years to come.
She breathed into his lips. “Today on the sleigh ride, can we go back to that aspen grove, and do this again?”
“Yep. But no need to wait that long.”
And they kissed again.
Epilogue
One Year Later
Emmett and Loleta Lazaro
request the pleasure of your company
and your prayers for God’s blessings
upon the marriage of their daughter
LORINDA MAXINE
to
HESTON JASPER CALHOUN
New Year’s Eve Vespers
6:00 p.m.
Mountainview Community Church
Mountain Cove, Colorado
Reception to follow
Hill River Ranch
123 Paiute Highway at Crossroad 49
The End...or actually,
The Beginning.
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