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Love Inspired Suspense July 2015 #2

Page 37

by Terri Reed


  Johnny reached out and ran a long strand of her auburn hair through his fingers. “You’re not exactly ancient.”

  “No, I suppose not, but I’ve taken my share of knocks.”

  “And come through it remarkably well.”

  “Thanks to my faith.”

  “Thanks to you, I’ve come to realize how important faith is, too. I’ve come to peace with a lot of things in my past. And with my mother. What did I once hear you say, ‘You have to let go and let God’?”

  Ellie smiled. “One of my favorites.”

  “How’s Ashley?”

  “Fine, we’re still friendly but I don’t see her as often as I used to. We’re no longer in business together. I drew up a business plan and was able to secure a bank loan. Can you believe it?”

  “Of course I believe it.” The confidence in his statement filled her with pride. He really did believe in her.

  A long silence stretched between them before Johnny finally said, “I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve stopped by.”

  “I told you I needed my independence.” An emotion she couldn’t quite name made her voice shaky. “You respected that.”

  “I did.” His voice softened. “But it wasn’t easy.”

  Ellie tugged on the collar of her shirt at a loss for words.

  A coy smile split his face. “Is it okay that I’ve stopped by tonight?”

  She nodded. She had proved to herself that she could create a successful business. She smiled politely, trying to act nonchalant. “So, what brings you to Williamstown?”

  Johnny opened his mouth to speak when the bells on the front door jangled.

  Kaylee and one of her friends bustled through the door and came up short when they noticed Johnny and Ellie engaged in a serious discussion.

  “Are we early?” Kaylee asked, her cheeks flushed pink from the January cold. She was holding a box from the bakery next door.

  “No, no…you’re not early. And you didn’t need to bring food.” The smell of freshly baked cupcakes reached her nose and her stomach growled. “But we’ll definitely enjoy those.” Ellie smiled. “We’ll start when everyone gets here.”

  The two girls giggled as they moved toward the refreshment table.

  “Mr. Vino’s still able to run the bakery?”

  “Yes. I’ve helped him coordinate with the church to employ young people. It’s hard to find a job in a small town and if the youth are busy working at the bakery, they might stay out of trouble.” She smiled at how far she and Mr. Vino had come since their stormy introduction. “One of the kids is great at computers. The bakery even has online ordering and shipping. Business has really picked up, or so he tells me.”

  “Nice. Maybe the business will still be around when Tony gets out of prison in a few years. Maybe he’ll have a second chance to continue his family’s business.”

  “Maybe. But for now, the teenagers Mr. Vino employs really seem to enjoy working there. I’ve decided I can’t worry about much more than today.”

  “Sounds like a good life motto.” Johnny smiled, then gently took Ellie’s elbow and moved her all the way toward the front of the store. His tone grew serious. “I’ve missed you.”

  Ellie tugged on the collar of her turtleneck again, thinking it couldn’t possibly get any hotter in her small store.

  A playful twinkle danced in his eyes when her response was slow in coming. “This is where you’re supposed to say something like ‘I’ve missed you, too.’”

  Ellie coughed and covered her mouth. “Of course. Yes. I have. I’ve missed you.”

  “This wasn’t the reception I imagined.” He laughed.

  She shook her head, confused. “I just thought with me committed to Williamstown and you in Buffalo and traveling for your job…”

  “I’ve been permanently assigned to Buffalo. I won’t be traveling as much.”

  “Oh.”

  “And since it’s not that far, I figured maybe…”

  The girls giggling by the back table caught her attention, but when Ellie looked at them, they were staring at their phones, apparently engrossed with something on the screen.

  “I’d love to take you on a date, Ellie. I mean, if you have time with your new business and school.”

  Biting her lip, she looked up, meeting his warm gaze. Wasn’t it time she made time? Trusted a man?

  “I’d love to go out on a date, Agent Rock.”

  He cupped her cheek and laced his fingers through her hair. The bells on the door clacked again. She started to turn toward them when Johnny smiled. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. He bent and brushed a soft kiss across her lips. He pulled back and asked, “What time are you done tonight?”

  “Seven.”

  “I’ll be back at seven, then.”

  “Okay.” Warmth coiled around her heart.

  Johnny stopped with his hand on the door. He jerked his chin toward the bright orange wall at the back of the store. The day she had painted it Citrus Blast seemed a lifetime ago. She couldn’t help but think of Collin and Kerry who were currently in a youth program to get them on the right track.

  “Ellie?”

  The concern in his voice shook her out of her reverie.

  “Have you done any painting lately?”

  “You mean walls?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Not since I set up the shop.”

  Johnny gave her a quick nod. “Well, I might need some help.”

  Ellie stared at him, angling her head in confusion.

  “I’m thinking the commute from Williamstown to Buffalo isn’t too far.”

  Her heart thumped against her ribs.

  “And my grandfather wouldn’t mind the company.”

  “You’re moving into the old Victorian on Treehaven Road?”

  A slow smile crept across his handsome features.

  “And I was thinking maybe you’d like to help me pick out the colors when I paint. Update the place a little.”

  Ellie felt light-headed. “Why?” whispered out.

  Johnny pressed a kiss to her lips. “I’m hoping maybe someday down the road you’ll be living there, too.” His lips moved against hers as he spoke.

  She pulled her head back, breaking the kiss. “Is this a proposal?” Her forehead crinkled, but she couldn’t help but smile.

  Johnny cupped her chin and did that thing with his thumb on her cheek again. “Not yet, Miss Ellie. Not yet.”

  She felt her face flare hot. “I didn’t m-mean…” She found herself stammering.

  “But one day soon…one day soon.”

  Johnny winked and pulled open the door. The bells jangled. A rush of air entered the space, cooling her fiery cheeks.

  Ellie turned and found Kaylee and her friends beaming at her in a way only teenager girls could. The rest of the girls must have slipped in while she was distracted.

  Excitement bubbled up inside Ellie and she strode toward the easels set up in the back of the shop. She handed each girl a brush and some paints. “Let’s get started. Who’s ready to paint?”

  Kaylee giggled and straightened her shoulders. “You are so lucky, Miss Ellie.”

  Ellie smiled. “I like to think I worked hard to get to where I am today.” She touched the young girl’s hand. “Remember that. Work hard and be patient.” Ellie ran her hand across the edge of the blank canvas. A blank slate. The future was hers to create.

  Kaylee was too polite to roll her eyes, but Ellie sensed that’s what the young girl wanted to do.

  Ellie laughed. “If you remember nothing else…” She searched the young girl’s eyes. “Have faith. Trust in God that things will work out.”

  Ellie glanced at the front door. Johnny had just made a promise of a future together. Butterflies flitted in her stomach. Her gaze drifted to the clock on the wall.

  Seven o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.

  *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from HIDDEN IDENTITY by Carol J. Post

  De
ar Reader,

  I hope you enjoyed High-Risk Homecoming. This is my fifth release from Harlequin Love Inspired Suspense and if you’ve had a chance to read my other books, you may have noticed I’ve set all of them in fictional small towns near Buffalo, New York.

  I am proud to have been born and raised in Buffalo, the home of chicken wings, the Buffalo Bills and the friendliest people. Even after going a thousand miles south for college, I found my way back, albeit to a suburb of my hometown. Even my brother, who spent twenty-plus years in New York City after graduating from NYU, has made his way back “home” recently to raise his young family.

  It is this sense of home and belonging that draws me to write about Western New York. High-Risk Homecoming is set in Williamstown, my fictional version of the Village of Williamsville, one of my favorite places just outside Buffalo. Williamsville has unique shops and coffee houses lining its Main Street. It is on my version of Main Street that I gave my heroine a gift shop. Here, she finds herself the target of a ruthless villain and, thankfully, under the protection of a handsome FBI agent. Not a bad tradeoff!

  If you ever have a chance to visit Western New York, be sure to check out our unique architecture, including Frank Lloyd Wright’s Martin House, our beautiful waterfront and the perennial favorite, Niagara Falls.

  Thank you for taking the time to read my book. I truly appreciate it. I hope you’ll look for more of my titles. I love hearing from my readers. I can be reached at Alison@AlisonStone.com.

  Live, Love, Laugh,

  http://www.harlequin.com/harlequinexperience

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired Suspense story.

  You enjoy a dash of danger. Love Inspired Suspense stories feature strong heroes and heroines whose faith is central in solving mysteries and saving lives.

  Enjoy six new stories from Love Inspired Suspense every month!

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  Hidden Identity

  by Carol J. Post

  ONE

  The building roar of a plane engine overwhelmed the gentler sounds of the seaside, invading the tranquility of Seahorse Key. Meagan Berry looked up from the canvas in her lap. Tension spiked through her. It wasn’t just the volume. Something was wrong. As she listened, the pitch dropped, and a series of sputters interrupted the flow of sound. She laid aside the canvas and pencil to hurry down the path leading to the beach. A small plane flew several yards above the water, too low to be on course for the Cedar Key Airport.

  The roar became a whine, and the nose dipped. Her pulse quickened and she froze, holding her breath. The pilot leveled it out, but a second later the plane slammed against the water, sending spray shooting twenty feet into the air.

  Meagan let out a startled scream and sprinted back to snatch her phone from her camera bag. She dialed 911 while running to her boat, then made her way over the waves with her four-horse motor wide open. The plane appeared to be sitting lower in the water than when it had first crashed. It was sinking.

  Panic spiraled through her, sucking the air from her lungs. Help would never arrive in time. There was no good way to die, but gasping for air as water filled the lungs had to be one of the worst.

  She coasted to a stop in front of the plane and peered through the windshield, relaying what she saw to the dispatcher. There were two occupants, the pilot and a passenger. The pilot’s head was cocked at an unnatural angle, his neck apparently broken. She grimaced, but forced herself to study him. If he was breathing, it was too shallow to be obvious.

  The passenger was unconscious, but his chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm. She steered the boat around to look through the side window. Water seemed to be rushing in from below. It swirled around the men’s legs, already halfway covering their thighs. The Cedar Key Fire rescue boat would be on its way. But the plane was sinking fast. She had to do something.

  She disconnected the call with the emergency operator and donned her life vest. As she prepared to leave the safety of the boat, her chest tightened, the lingering remnant of a lifelong fear of water. She brushed it aside. The man’s life depended on her keeping a clear mind and acting quickly.

  She threw herself over the side of the boat and into the warm Gulf water. When she reached the plane, she braced both feet against its side, gripped the door handle and pulled. Twice. It didn’t budge.

  When she attempted it a third time, desperation added to her efforts. She yanked with all her might, summoning a strength she didn’t know she had. The door opened a crack, creaking in protest. Renewed energy spiked through her.

  After several more tugs, she had the door open far enough for her to slip through. She reached for the seat belt, but the latch was jammed.

  “Come on.” She pressed and pulled and yanked, but the belt refused to release its prisoner.

  Her heart stuttered. Time was running out. The water was already past his waist. She had to free him. She scanned the cockpit, but didn’t see anything useful.

  Maybe she had something. She mentally ticked through the items in her tackle box—sunscreen, rope, a waterproof flashlight and…a multi-tool. Hope surged through her. She could use the knife to cut the belt.

  Moments later, she set to work, sawing until she had sliced halfway through the thick nylon. The water had risen to the man’s chest. His head rolled to the side, and a groan made its way up his throat.

  “Hang loose. I’m getting you out of here.”

  Meagan resumed sawing, her motions more frantic with every passing second. When the last thread finally let go, breath that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding spilled out in a relieved sigh.

  But it wasn’t over yet. She still had to pull him from the plane. Then if she could get her spare life jacket on him, maybe she could free the pilot. She gently lifted the shoulder harness over the man’s head, then grasped his arms and pulled. The left one came forward. A gold wedding band glistened in the sunlight. He was married, maybe even still had kids at home. People who needed him.

  It took several more tugs to wrestle him through the opening. When she glanced back inside, the plane was almost full of water. Her chest clenched. She was out of time.

  During the next minute, she kept the passenger afloat and watched the water rise over the pilot’s face, covering his mouth, his nose and finally his eyes. She drew in several sharp, jagged gasps. The worst way to die…

  No, he wasn’t suffering. There was no struggle, no response at all. He was likely already dead, killed on impact, neck broken. He wasn’t drowning.

  She closed her eyes against a sudden wave of nausea. Weakness washed through her, and a ringing sounded in her ears, slowly building to a roar. She opened her eyes and turned. A boat was speeding toward her, nose in the air. Some distance behind was a second, quickly closing the gap.

  The lead boat reached her first, carrying Cedar Key police officer Hunter Kingston. Dressed in a white T-shirt with a picture of a fish spanning his chest, he apparently wasn’t on duty. But as he drew up next to her, she had to admit he looked as good out of uniform as in.

  “I was fishing over on the other side of Atsena Otie Key when I heard the plane.” He threw the motor into idle and dropped the anchor. “Was anyone else inside?”

  “Yeah, the pilot. I’m pretty sure the impact killed him, broke his neck.” At least that was what she would keep telling herself. “I didn’t have time to feel for a pulse or anything.”

  The Cedar Key Fire rescue boat approached, its engines drowning out Hunter’s next words. Wade Tanner stood at the helm, Joe Stearn next to him. After taking a few seconds to get details from her, they went to work. Joe got into the water with a plastic backboard while Wade circled around to the other side of the plane. Its wings floated on the sur
face of the waves, the body submerged. Wade would work to free the pilot, but it would be too late. Probably six or seven minutes had passed since he’d sunk beneath the water.

  A lump formed in her throat, and she once again reined in her thoughts. She would keep focusing on the man she was able to save instead of the one she’d lost. Within minutes, Wade and Joe would be speeding toward the marina, where an ambulance would be waiting, or possibly a helicopter. The man still might not survive, but she had done all she could. The rest was up to fate.

  Before returning to her boat, she glanced back down at the plane’s passenger. Joe had worked the backboard under him. His eyes were closed, but he was still breathing. And there wasn’t any blood. Of course, there could be internal injuries. And broken bones. And likely a head injury, since he still hadn’t regained consciousness.

  Hunter followed her gaze. “You know who that is, don’t you?”

  Dread slid down her throat. Please, not somebody famous.

  Hunter continued before she could answer. “Richard Daniels. He’s one of our US senators.”

  The dread morphed to full-blown anxiety. Reporters. News cameras. She had to get out of there before they arrived. She began to swim toward her boat. It had drifted about thirty feet from where she had left it.

  Hunter’s voice stopped her. “Need some help?”

  “I could use it.” Hers was a small johnboat, and she wasn’t sure she could get in without capsizing it.

  Hunter helped her onto his boat, then pulled up beside hers and held it steady while she stepped in. Once she had settled onto the seat, she looked back at him, ready to offer her thanks. But her words caught in her throat. He was smiling over at her, a warmth in his gaze that she’d never seen before.

  “You saved Daniels’s life. You kept your head and acted fast. You should be proud.”

  Proud? She hadn’t thought about it. But Hunter was proud of her. She could tell. And it created an odd flutter in her stomach. With that soft, sandy blond hair, those gorgeous blue eyes and the fact that he was just an all-around nice guy, she was surprised he was still single. But from what she’d heard, he was too busy to devote time to romance. Besides his full-time job with Cedar Key Police Department, he taught a middle school boys Sunday school class and had his hand in almost every volunteer activity on Cedar Key.

 

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