“I need to warn you, I’m in love with you, Lara Werth.”
“And I’m gladly, happily in love with you.”
He lowered his lips to hers. Heart singing, Lara rose up on her tiptoes to meet his kiss. That old saying about fireworks exploding had nothing on this moment. It was true. There was no room for fear where love had come to stay.
EPILOGUE
Six Months Later
Newly elected Teton County sheriff Ethan Ridgeway signed off on the last report from his deputies and put the sheet in the outbox on the corner of his desk. Smiling, he sat back and gazed around his office. The room wasn’t big or fancy, but it was up-to-date, efficiently organized and came with its own coffee machine—huge perk, no pun intended.
Late in the summer, when the former sheriff had announced he would be retiring at the end of his term, Ethan had thrown his hat in the ring. It had been a risky move for both his career with the US Marshals Service and for his relationship with Lara. He’d known if he won, he’d be changing career paths. He was fine with that, provided Lara said yes when he asked her to marry him later today. If she said no, it would be awkward with him as sheriff in the same town.
Yet, the joy in her eyes when he’d told her he was thinking about moving to Jackson and running for the office had made the decision for him. At that point, they’d been dating for only a couple of months, and popping the question had seemed premature. Thankfully, a former deputy US marshal had proved to be an attractive candidate for the citizens of Teton County. Now, four months later, here he was, sworn in as sheriff, and he wasn’t waiting any longer for the moment of truth between him and Lara.
He opened his desk drawer, pulled out a square jeweler’s box and tapped the top with a firm finger. “Don’t say no.”
Then he rose to head home and change for his date with Lara tonight. Funny how nervous he was. Their feelings for each other had done nothing but grow steadily over time, but he was under no illusions how difficult it had been for Lara to conquer deep-seated relationship fears. Those kinds of inner wounds took time and effort to heal thoroughly, and they persisted in little ways, cropping up out of the blue, despite people’s best intentions. He understood that. Lately, her signs of caution had grown few and far between, but he still couldn’t be sure he wasn’t rushing things, at least in her mind. He’d even settle for a long engagement if she’d just wear his ring.
An hour later, his breath puffing out steam in the cold January air, Ethan rang Lara’s doorbell. The door sprang open almost immediately, and a beaming Lara stood on the other side.
“You’ll never guess what’s happened,” she cried.
“What is it?” Ethan’s heart did a little jump.
She grabbed his hand and pulled him over the threshold. He shrugged out of his winter jacket and hung it on the coat tree in the foyer. Then she threw her arms around him, and he gladly returned the hug.
“It’s absolutely wonderful.” She gazed up at him with a brilliant smile.
“What is?”
Laughing, she released her hold around his waist and performed a little twirling dance into the living room area. The full skirt of the knee-length dress she was wearing swished around her.
She stopped and lifted her hands in the air. “Isabelle has had enough of Chicago with all its bad memories. She grew fond of Jackson when she stayed here, so she and Maisy are moving.”
“To Jackson?”
“Yes! That’s what I said.”
“That’s what you implied.” Ethan grinned. “Just making sure I have my facts straight.”
Lara stepped up to him and placed her palms against his chest. “Ever the lawman.”
Taking advantage of the moment, Ethan pulled her close. “So we’ll have the pleasure of the amazing Maisy’s company indefinitely.”
“Awesome, isn’t it?”
“Better than awesome. But I have some news of my own.”
“What news?” Her expression sobered.
“Well—” his gaze fell away from hers “—it’s more like a question I need to ask you.” Why did that box in his pocket suddenly weigh a ton?
“You know you can ask me anything.”
He couldn’t get a better invitation than that. Releasing her, he stepped back. He felt like a gangly, awkward teenager, but he managed to kneel in front of her anyway.
Her jaw dropped and both hands flew up to cover her open mouth. Was that a sheen of tears suddenly washing over her eyes? Should he take that as a good sign?
Ethan finally muscled the box out of his pocket. He mentally kicked himself. Should have taken it out before he knelt. But at last, he extended the box up toward her and popped open the lid.
“Lara Werth, will you marry me?”
A sob left Lara’s lips.
“Don’t worry. I’m not pressuring you to set a date,” Ethan babbled on. “However long you want the engagement to be, I’m fine with that. I only hope you can—”
Her forefinger across his lips effectively stopped more words as she dropped to her knees next to him. “You wonderful man, of course I’ll marry you. The sooner the better. And I don’t want a big wedding. Just get my mom out here...and Isabelle and Maisy. And Jake too, since he helped us so much.”
“And Terry,” Ethan put in, grinning fit to burst. “And Rogan and his wife, Trina. Rogan would shoot me if I left him out of my wedding when I was best man for his.”
“Invite anyone you want but do it fast. I can hardly wait to start our life together.”
He took the ring out of the box and slid the circlet onto her finger. It fit perfectly. Lara gazed down at the symbol of their fresh commitment, her eyes sparkling like the diamond he’d given her.
Ethan lifted her chin and lowered his head. Their first kiss as an engaged couple. A pledge of many more to come.
* * *
If you enjoyed this book, look for these other stories by Jill Elizabeth Nelson:
Lone Survivor
The Baby’s Defender
Keep reading for an excerpt from Under Surveillance by Jodie Bailey.
Dear Reader,
What a high-speed romance for Lara and Ethan as they raced through a harrowing situation. I’m so glad you came along for the ride. I hope you enjoyed getting to know them as they worked through their past traumas even as they experienced new dangers and challenges.
As with all my books, it is my prayer that this story strengthens people’s faith and blesses their hearts, even as it entertains them. In this adventure, I hope you discovered—or rediscovered, as the case may be—the power of love to overcome fear. Like Lara muses toward the end of the story, 1 John 4:18 says, “There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear.”
Again, thank you for joining Lara and Ethan on their hair-raising, but faith-developing and romantic, journey. I hope you will decide to accompany my other characters on their journeys in my past or future novels. Information about those can be found on my website: www.jillelizabethnelson.com. Also, I invite you to connect with me on my Facebook page: www.Facebook.com/jillelizabethnelson.author. God’s amazing blessings be with you, dear readers.
Until next time...
Jill
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Under Surveillance
by Jodie Bailey
ONE
Macey Price muttered under her breath and stomped through damp leaves in the small wooded area behind her house. She brushed twigs out of her face in the rapidly deepening twilight. “Wait until I find that mutt.” How in the world had he slipped out? He’d been in the house when she’d left for her run, hadn’t he?
It didn’t really matter
. One street away from home, as Macey walked to cool down, Kito had come streaking past, galloping down a firebreak and alongside the edge of the woods. She’d tracked him along the wood line back toward the house. Should have stayed on the road. It would have been easier.
“One more time. One more Houdini escape and it’s back to the rescue you came from.” Okay, so she didn’t really mean it. She’d sooner spend all of her evenings traipsing through the undergrowth calling Kito’s name than give him up. The way that husky took off at the least squirrel or shadow was a small price to pay for his tail-wagging furry affection when he came home again an hour or so later.
An hour or so later, Macey stopped walking, ankle-deep in wet leaves and mud. When Kito decided to run, he always came back and either pawed at the front door or jumped the fence into Trey Burns’s yard next door. This woods walk was pointless. She angled up the slight hill to dry ground and followed privacy fences along the back of the houses on her street. She’d take the shower she desperately needed after her planned post-work jog and her unplanned tromp through the swampy woods, then eat dinner on the deck so she could keep an eye on Trey’s yard.
When her roommate had brought the dog home two years ago, training the willful pup had been a beast. Olivia’s frequent work trips had made Kito feel more like Macey’s dog anyway. She’d actually inherited Kito when Olivia died in a car accident in Italy two months ago.
No, she really wouldn’t trade him.
As she rounded the Jacksons’ privacy fence, her brick ranch came into view. Macey opened her mouth to call one more time, just in case Kito had doubled back, but something stilled her feet and her words.
A beam of light moved across the glass door that led from the elevated deck into her dining room.
Someone was in her house.
Instinctively, Macey dropped to one knee, seeking feeble cover behind her split-rail-and-chicken-wire fence. She dared not move, dared not breathe as her heart picked up past double time. Her teeth clamped into her lower lip so tightly she should have tasted blood. Soggy leaves soaked damply through the knee of her leggings. She needed her phone. Maybe even a really big stick. Something.
Another beam passed across the windows in Olivia’s bedroom. She swallowed hard against a rising tide of bile. No one had been in that room since the call that Olivia had died. Now at least two intruders were walking through Macey’s home and likely digging through her things, searching...taking.
Far from scared, she was angry. Violated. Determined. There had to be something she could do to stop this.
Macey glanced around in the rapidly darkening twilight, searching for a way to fight back. She hadn’t taught self-defense in college for nothing.
The back of her property sat on high ground, dropping off quickly at the back. The house to her left was empty since the Jacksons were on an early fall trip to Disney World. Trey Burns lived on the other side, but his house had been dark since he’d gone on a field exercise with his unit two days earlier. The reason she was keeping an eye on his place. And the reason she was on her own.
The smart thing would be to slip back the way she’d come. It would be easy to edge back through the trees to the neighbor who shared her back woods and call 9-1-1 from there.
But by the time the police arrived, everything she owned could be gone. Shucking off the reflective jacket she wore when she ran, Macey tossed it aside and prepared to slip closer to the house. Maybe her appearance would scare them off.
But the back door to the deck flew open and a man stepped outside. A bulky silhouette in the near darkness, he swung the beam of a high-powered flashlight across the backyard, concentrating close to the house at first, then sweeping in ever-widening arcs toward the fence. Macey hunkered lower. Suddenly, facing huge men by herself didn’t seem like such a good idea. God, don’t let him spot me. Prayer wasn’t her usual go-to, but now seemed like a good time to start.
A second man joined him on the deck, invisible behind the light he swung in a crisscross over the first man’s. “Can’t find anything inside.” The voice was low but it hung heavy in the damp evening air, his Deep South accent drawling the words thick and slow. The words sent a chill along Macey’s arms, turning post-run sweat into cold, clammy fear.
“Want to take the girl if she comes back? Wasn’t the plan but might as well bring them something instead of nothing.”
These men were looking for quick cash by any means necessary, even if it meant—Macey clamped her hand over her mouth. She couldn’t get sick. She wouldn’t.
“Sure. You wait in the house. I’ll cover outside.” One light vanished as the door closed, while the second man lumbered down the deck stairs, flashlight searching as he moved.
Her breath caught in her throat, nearly strangling her. Split rails and chicken wire gave her no cover. If he came this way and scanned the woods...
A crash in the dry leaves drew a gasp from Macey and a cry from the man hunting her. She pressed her full body into the damp ground, hoping Kito wouldn’t give away her position. Hoping the man wouldn’t see her. Hoping for somebody, somewhere, to rescue her from a situation she’d never imagined in her worst nightmares.
Kito streaked from the dark woods behind the Jacksons’ house, then veered to the right toward the creek, probably on the trail of an unsuspecting cat. Macey had always been fond of stray cats, but never so much as in that moment, when one lured her dog from danger.
The husky might be safe, but when Macey lifted her head from the damp leaves, the beam of light bounced across the ground in front of her and reflected off her jacket only a few feet away. Why hadn’t she thrown it farther?
The light swung back, footsteps pounded and a shout followed. Heart hammering in every pore of her body, Macey abandoned all pretense of hiding, scrambled to her feet and ran into the woods.
If she could only scream for help, but no words would come out of her dry mouth. There wasn’t enough oxygen to power her body and release a cry.
She heard a thud. Her pursuer must have jumped the fence to tear after her through the underbrush. He might be faster, but thanks to Kito’s frequent wandering, she knew these woods. If she could keep this pace for the half mile through the swamp to the main road, she’d be safe. Surely no one would hurt her in front of witnesses.
The man behind her crashed closer until she could hear his hard breathing and his fingertips brushed the back of her shirt. More. She needed more.
His fingers grasped her shirt and he jerked her to a halt.
Her head whipped back and hit her attacker’s cheek, shooting painful stars across her vision as he yanked her off her feet.
With a violent yank, he twisted and threw her facedown to the ground, pinning her with a knee between her shoulder blades.
Macey struggled, dead leaves and mud sliding against her cheek and forcing their way into her mouth. She gagged.
The man dug his knee in harder, grinding her spine until she whimpered and went limp, the pain too blinding to fight.
After pulling her arms behind her back, he hefted himself up, then yanked her to her feet. The motion nearly ripped her shoulders from their sockets, bringing instant numbness into her fingers. He leaned closer, his breath hot on her cheek. “You shouldn’t have run.” He twisted her arm tighter against her back. “Would have been easier if you hadn’t run.” The hard press of steel dug into her spine. “I wouldn’t suggest doing it again.”
Macey didn’t let her shoulders fall, not even with a gun to her back. No matter that her insides quivered and quaked, she couldn’t show fear. She had to stay strong, to look for an opportunity. She had years of self-defense training behind her, and though she might be rusty, she sure wasn’t weak.
The hard part would be waiting for the right moment when all she wanted was to fight now, harder than she ever had before. She had to trust her training.
Her feet stumbled as her cap
tor shoved her toward the house, but she righted herself and kept going, refusing to speak. As long as she was silent, her voice wouldn’t tremble and give away the fear that coursed through her. She had to appear stoic; any sign of weakness would give this guy and his partner the upper hand.
The man practically hauled her over the fence, then half dragged her across the yard. By the front fence at the corner of the house, he shoved her against the brick wall, pinning her there with the back of her neck. He peeked around the corner to survey the area.
Her assailant turned to her, his ice-blue eyes too close. He scanned her face and seemed to search for something in her expression. His focus was cold and menacing. “You’re too quiet. Makes me wonder what’s going on in that head of yours.” He jabbed the gun into her ribs, and she fought a gasp. “Just don’t get to thinking that smart can outrun a bullet.” His baritone voice scraped against her ear. It held the frightening darkness of deep woods, violent sports and too much whiskey. Like her father before he’d left.
As he leaned around the corner again, the pressure on her neck eased. The gun slipped to the right.
Now.
Macey threw her free hand up and caught the man’s wrist. The gun clattered against the house.
As he turned toward her, she thrust out her palm and caught him square in the nose. A horrific crunch followed the blow as blood streamed down his face.
The man roared and grabbed his face.
Macey shoved him backward to the ground and scrambled over the fence, heading for the street. Someone had to be home on her cul-de-sac. Someone had to help her.
She rounded the corner of the house and collided with another man. He pressed his hand against her mouth, wrapped his arm around her waist and then dragged her toward a van idling in her drive.
* * *
Get Macey Price. Now.
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