by kimberly
Zoya’s dad. “You know I do.”
“He was seen speaking to Anesia yesterday after the race. Right before Zoya was injured. Then he disappeared. And not ten minutes ago, we followed him to the Naltsiine property.”
“And?”
“We think he’s the link.”
“To what?”
“The arms ring.”
“So what does that have to do with Anesia?”
“We think she’s helping him.”
His temper couldn’t be contained any longer. “What?”
“And hiding the program on her property. The payment she’d get would fund her kennel for a long time.”
“You can’t be serious. Anesia has worked her tail off—”
“Exactly the motivation she’d need to go along with the plan.” The agent’s voice was clipped. He’d already bought into the lie.
“There’s no way Anesia is involved in this.”
“Believe what you want, Maddox, but you need to be prepared for the possibility.”
Cole hung up the phone. No, he didn’t. Because Anesia was innocent.
And he would put everything on the line to prove it.
* * *
ANESIA
Naltsiine Kennels
4:17 a.m.
She could do this. Maybe the weight that had been sitting on her chest all these years would lift. She might even be able to acknowledge to Sean the fact that he had captured her attention. And maybe, just maybe her heart. “I had dreams of marriage a long time ago.”
One of Sean’s eyebrows shot up.
“His name was Dan. Zoya’s father. We were so in love, and we knew full well that God wanted us to wait until marriage, but . . .”
“You were young.”
She nodded. “Too young. I got pregnant with Zoya.” Suck it up. Spit it out. “The wedding was planned for after the birth of our baby. Everyone knew, and even though we messed up in the order of things, we wanted to do things right. So we went to premarital counseling, made a promise to be abstinent until our wedding night, and anticipated the arrival of our little bundle of joy.
“Dan loved racing as much as I did. We had the plans for this kennel and purchased the property, saving each and every penny we could—” The last words choked her.
“I’m sorry. You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s okay. I need to talk about it.” Another deep breath. “Anyway, Dan was killed a few months before Zoya was born. It’s one of my deepest regrets, that she never knew him. And there are certain people who won’t let her—or me—forget that her dad and I weren’t married.”
“What happened? To Dan, I mean.”
His eyes were so kind, so concerned. “A training accident. He fell through the ice.”
“I’m sorry.”
“The grief almost won, but Jenna was there for me.” She allowed a small smile as the memories came back for the second time that night. “Talk about a mother hen. She protected me and challenged me to break through. But I still allowed the guilt to hover.
“Zoya was born, and then Jenna and Marc had Andie a couple months later. By this time, I was so smitten with my daughter that I decided then and there that I would prove to everyone what a blessing she was. Beauty from ashes, you know? So I put on my little armor of independence and determined to never allow another man close.”
It felt good to let it all spill out, but Sean was so quiet. What was he thinking? Was he disappointed in her? Did he think she was—
“Anesia, I had no idea of the journey you’ve faced. It gives me a better perspective on your drive and tenacity.”
Well. Wasn’t that nice and . . . formal. “Thanks. I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. As you can tell, we’ve done very well by ourselves.” She hated the edge that tinged her voice. Where did this anger come from? It didn’t roll in like a tsunami but erupted in an instant. Did she want to prove to him and everyone else that they’d done just fine, in fact, incredibly fine all on her own? That she and Zoya didn’t need anyone? That she didn’t need a man?
He leaned forward and placed a gentle hand on her knee. The heat radiated up to her shoulders and helped her relax. If one touch could do that, how could she guard her heart from this man?
“I don’t feel sorry for you at all. In fact, to be quite honest, you amaze me. And scare me. All at the same time.” He removed his hand.
She wanted it back. “I scare you?”
His smile broke through the dimness of the room. “Not in the way you’re thinking.”
“Well, by all means, please explain.” There went her anger again.
“I don’t think you really want to know that.”
Like a volcano. “And just how are you supposed to know what I want, Mr. Connolly?”
He chuckled.
How dare he laugh at her?
His hands shot up, signaling surrender, as though he could read her mind. “I’m just saying that it is intimidating for a man to be attracted to a beautiful woman, for that same woman to be his boss, and again for that same woman to be so strong and independent and in no need of anyone to come alongside her on the journey of life.”
Oh.
Her heart raced.
He sat. Waiting for a response.
But she couldn’t make her brain or her mouth work.
The silence stretched.
“I’m sorry. I went too far. Forgive me, please.” He hopped to his feet. “It’s the middle of the night. I think I’ll head back to bed. Let me know if you need anything.”
He was attracted to her? A door clicked, shaking her from her thoughts. Wait!
But he was already gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
SEAN
January 30
Naltsiine Kennels
9:12 a.m.
The cold penetrated his bones this morning. Unlike all the other days when the excitement and love for the job, for this place, for its people, warmed him from the inside out. How could he have been so stupid?
Anesia didn’t speak to him—didn’t even look him in the eye—when she awoke and disabled the alarm. She headed to her bedroom and waved at him when he said he’d water the dogs. Not a word. Not a glance. Just a complete dismissal.
Of his words. Of him.
Sean went from dog to dog. Maybe the work would help him forget his stupidity.
“Hi.” Zoya’s small, bundled-up form stood at the gate.
“Hi, yourself.” He forced a smile. “How does your head feel?”
“I’ve got a headache, but it’s not so bad.” She walked around petting dogs.
“That’s good. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“Yeah. Mom says we’ll go to the late service at church and if I’m up to it, we’ll eat at the Café for lunch.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Will you come with us?”
“I’ll be at church.”
“That’s not what I asked.” She stood beside him now.
“I know.” God, now would be a good time to intervene.
“I heard you and Mom talking last night.”
He looked up to the sky. That wasn’t quite the intervention I was hoping for, Lord.
“I’m sorry I eavesdropped, but it wasn’t like you guys didn’t know I was in the room.”
“But we thought you were asleep.” It wasn’t his place to scold her.
“I know. And I’m sorry.”
“Zoya, you’re forgiven. I should be apologizing to you. It was completely inappropriate of me to talk to your mother that way.” Heat climbed up his neck. When did he become a bumbling fool?
“She likes you.”
“I embarrassed her.”
“You need to talk to her.”
“She won’t even look me in the eye.”
Zoya sighed. One of the teenage are-you-really-that-stupid kind of sighs. “Will you come with us, please?”
He turned to face her. Studied her features. The
kid was hurting. “All right.”
“Yes—”
“On one condition.”
“What?”
“You sit down right now and talk to me about what’s really bugging you. I won’t tell your mom and I won’t betray your confidence. But you need to talk, don’t you?”
“How did you know that?”
“That doesn’t matter. Do we have a deal?” He stuck out his hand.
She chewed on her lip. Then squinted. Then stuck out her own hand and they shook on it. “Deal.”
He couldn’t stop the smile. “Good. Now let’s get into the barn where it’s warmer.”
“Good idea.”
They walked the distance to the barn in silence. Boots crunched the snow beneath them. Tree branches swayed in the wind. Dogs yapped. Wood smoke drifted to his nose from fireplaces. Their breath turned to ice crystals in the air, tinkling like microscopic bells. Sean would never tire of this unique land.
As they entered the barn, he dove in. “Okay, Sunshine. Let’s hear it.”
She plopped down on a bale of hay, lowered her scarf, and shoved her gloved hands into her pockets. “I’m mad at God.”
“Okay.”
“What? You’re not upset with me?”
“No. Go on.”
“Well, I thought you’d get onto me and lecture me and all that.”
“Then I wouldn’t be a very good listener or friend, now would I?”
She considered that, then nodded. “Oh. Right. Well, I’m upset because of all the things He’s allowed to happen. And I keep praying, and it’s like He’s not listening.”
The inner prodding was clear. Listen. Keep her talking.
“I’m so . . . angry. My whole world is messed up. And I’m just a kid. I don’t control anything. And I don’t want anything to happen to my mom.”
What wasn’t she saying?
“Anyway, that’s it. My brain’s a jumbled mix. Trying to figure out what to do.”
His instinct told him the story didn’t end there. God, I could use some guidance.
Listen.
“Sean, I love my mom. She’s amazing. I want her to be happy.”
“She loves you too.”
The first hint of a smile. “I know. She’s always been there for me. Even more than Andie.” She whispered behind her hand. “But don’t tell Andie I said that.”
“My lips are sealed.”
She hugged herself, and words came pouring out. “Why do people do bad things? And why does God allow the bad junk to happen? Why did my dad have to die? Why does Andie get two dads, and I’ve got no one but my mom. I don’t understand why God let that murder happen. He could have stopped it. Why didn’t He? And did I have to see it?” She stood up and paced. “And I don’t understand why He’d let me be so mad at Him, ya know? I don’t want to be mad at God. I know better than that. I know He loves me. But it hurts. And I’m wondering if He’s even real any more. There’s too many voices in my head. Angry voices. The only voice that isn’t there is His. Why isn’t He talking to me? Why don’t I feel Him any more?” Tears coursing down her face, she ran over to him, burying her face in his stomach.
He hugged her back. God, help. I have no idea what to say. He patted her back and waited. The words would come when God wanted him to speak.
“Are you mad at me?” She sniffed and wiped her nose with her hand. At that moment she sounded more like a small child than the blossoming teen she was.
“Not at all.”
“Good. ’Cause I don’t think I could handle you being mad at me.”
He patted her back again.
Several seconds passed then she pulled back. His coat bore the evidence of her rampaging tears. “Thanks for listening, Sean.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’m angry and I’m scared. And I don’t know what to do.” She swiped at her face and headed toward the door. “I need to go. But thanks for not giving me any advice. Or trying to fix me.”
Thank heaven he kept his mouth shut.
“I’m glad you’re here. And I’m really glad you like my mom.” And with that, she ventured out the door.
Sean sat back down on a bale of hay, exhausted—and haunted by one question:
Did he do the right thing?
* * *
ANDIE
January 30
235 North Santa Claus Lane, North Pole
2:47 p.m.
As we walked into the Country Café, the wonderful aroma of croissant French toast drifted over to me.
Yum.
“Where do you guys want to sit?” Cole looked around the crowded area and frowned.
I glanced around. There weren’t many large tables available. Zoya stood beside me, fiddling with her gloves.
“How ’bout there?” I pointed off to a dirty table in the corner. “We could get someone to clean it off.”
Cole nodded. “Looks like someone already is.”
A tall lady came and carried away a large stack of dishes, then disappeared into the kitchen.
Auntie Anesia, Sean, Zoya, Cole, Mom and I walked over to the round table.
My nice clothes began to bug me. Why didn’t I bring a change of clothing?
“How did you like the sermon, Sean?” Mom sat down and smiled.
“It was very pleasurable, to say the least.” He smiled in return.
Cole sat down between me and Mom. “Who wants to pray?”
“Cole, we haven’t even ordered yet.” Mom poked his arm.
“Well!” He crossed his arms. “Aren’t we the slow group. Let’s order so I can eat!”
All morning he had been complaining that he was hungry. What a man. No patience whatsoever.
Everyone laughed. Except Zoya. She sat still beside me and fiddled with her gloves again.
“Oh, what a surprise to see you all here!” I looked up to find Mrs. Howe from church standing there, her little boy, Jonny, at her side.
“Hello, Laura.” Mom stood and hugged her.
She smiled. “I saw you at the service this morning but didn’t get a chance to say hi. I found something that I think belongs to you. Jonny picked it up in the church parking lot last week—”
“It shiny,” the three-year-old piped up.
“At first I couldn’t tell who it belonged to, but it has what I think are Marc’s initials on it.”
I turned in my seat as she pulled the little black box out of her pocket. “Mom!” I jumped up and started doing the happy dance. How on earth had Jonny found it?
“Thank you, we’ve been looking for it.” Mom smiled and handed it to me.
“Cole, see?” I almost threw it into his hands as Jonny and Mrs. Howe said good-bye and left.
“I see. But what about it?”
“Look at it!” I bounced up and down on my toes. He was such a man! Didn’t notice anything!
Zoya just stared at the box. Not saying a word. How was she not as excited as I was? What was wrong with her? I stopped bouncing. God?
Cole leaned over the table and placed the box on its surface. His brow scrunched. “Andie, why do you think this could be a clue?”
My heart pounded. Was he that unobservant?
“Look,” I pointed, wanting to hit him on top of the head. And hit him hard. You know, Jesus said many, many times, “he who has ears to hear, let him hear.” I think that goes for eyes as well . . .
“It seems a little duller under the inscription like something was erased, or like sandpapered over, and Dad’s initials were etched over it.”
He flipped the box to the side the initials were on.
“I’m not sure.” He tampered with the lid, then sighed. “I’ll have to break it open. Is that okay?” He turned to me.
I didn’t want to ruin it. Not since it was Dad’s. But it was for the good of our country. I nodded. Then sat back down as Cole got out his nifty tool thing-a-majigger and started working on it. Sean leaned in close from the other side of the table and helped hold it still.
If I tell you something, you have to promise you won’t tell a single soul.
I looked into her eyes. There has been something wrong, it wasn’t just me! “I promise,” I whispered.
She slipped a folded-up letter into my hand. Again I looked into her eyes. She looked . . . sad. And angry.
I stood up. Best to read it in private. “Mom, can I go to the restroom?”
Without even looking at me she nodded. Everyone’s attention seemed to be on the little black box. I could feel the tension in the room thicken as Cole worked on it. No one noticed that something was wrong with my friend.
I walked to the bathroom, slipped into a stall, and opened the note:
Andie,
I know you want to be there for me, you always have. But you can’t help me with this. Please don’t get mad at me, I love you very much. But God and I aren’t seeing eye to eye. And I know that your words couldn’t help. You’ve been a great friend and I love you. Thanks for sticking with me, but I need to go on alone.
Love, Zoya
What was she saying? Go on alone? Go where? She was still mad at God . . . why? I thought she was over that. I had promised, but we had to talk. And I needed Mom’s help.
I rushed out the door, slamming it into the wall, and over to the table. Zoya didn’t look me in the eye.
Everyone else stared at the box. Mom’s hand covered her mouth.
Cole looked up to me and stood. “Andie, this box isn’t Marc’s.”
I blinked. What?
Zoya needed me. Why was he—
Cole stood.
Something was wrong.
He leaned in close, hand clasping my elbow in a tight squeeze. “This box belonged to Viper.”
* * *
SEAN
3:45 p.m.
Cole’s grip on his shoulder intensified. The tension and urgency flowed through his heavy jacket. Whoever this Viper fellow was, Sean knew the stakes had just been raised.
“Anesia, can you spare Sean for a little bit?”
