Buried Memories

by Carol J. Post

  Well, not without a fight.

  She dropped the spade and stalked toward him, then stopped with her back against his closed driver’s side door. She crossed her arms and glared up at him.

  He raised his brows. “What are you doing?”

  “When are you going to stop running?”

  His jaw tightened. “What, have you been talking to my brother?”

  “I haven’t needed to. Do you think I don’t know what you’re doing? Just when you get settled in somewhere and start getting close to the people around you, you take off again. You’re so afraid someone’s going to see past that tough exterior of yours. Well, too late. I already have.”

  He matched her stance, arms crossed, legs shoulder-width apart. “I’d planned to stay only until the work on the inn was finished. You knew that from the start. Nothing’s changed.”

  No, nothing had changed, yet everything had. They’d spent almost every spare moment together since he arrived. They’d shared their fears and fought for their lives. Now she was in love with him.

  But she wasn’t going to beg him to stay. She uncrossed her arms and let them fall to her sides. “All right, then. Go.” She stepped away from the truck and opened the door. “Keep on running. What you’re hiding from is always going to find you.”

  He made no move to get into truck, just stood there watching her. Indecision flashed in his eyes, and a muscle twitched in the side of his jaw.

  “Well?” she prodded him.

  “You’re asking me to stay.”

  “I want to be there for you, Tyler, as a friend and more, if you’ll let me.”

  He closed his eyes and clenched his fists. His jaw was still tight, further evidence of the struggle going on inside him.

  He sighed and once again met her gaze. “I have nightmares.”

  “So do I.”

  “Mine are dangerous. You’ve experienced that firsthand.”

  “I think I can handle it.”

  “You’ve been through so much—your mother’s murder, foster care, the death of your adoptive parents. Your sister, then Louie.” He shook his head. “You need someone stable.”

  Her heart fell. “So I’m good enough for friendship, but not anything more.”

  “That’s not what I mean.” He slipped his keys into his jeans pocket, then took both of her hands. “I care for you too much to saddle you with my issues.”

  His touch was reassuring, his hands calloused, strong but gentle. Like the man. “Sometimes the best way to take your mind off your own problems is to help someone else with theirs.”

  Without releasing her hands, he stepped closer, until she had to tilt her head backward to look at him. His face was inches from hers.

  “Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?” His voice was the softest whisper, his breath warm against her lips.

  “I think I have a pretty good idea.” Her tone matched his, low and smooth, belying the turmoil inside her. If they hadn’t passed the point of no return before, they were getting ready to now.

  He leaned closer, and her eyes drifted closed. His lips met hers, gentle at first, tentative, testing. She didn’t pull away. He deepened the kiss, and she still didn’t pull away.

  All her fears and past mistakes faded into the background, and a whole world of new possibilities opened before her. There was no cause for concern, no reason to hold back.

  Because this was Tyler. Her best friend. The one who was there through those troubled early teenage years and would be there for whatever lay ahead.

  The one who knew her better than anyone in the world.

  And he loved her anyway.

  EPILOGUE

  Nicki walked along the raised dirt trail, Tyler’s hand in hers. A gentle breeze rustled the trees around them, but otherwise, the late August morning was silent.

  She drew in a clean breath. The air was hot and humid. Maybe it would help warm some of the chill that had settled inside her the moment she stepped out of Tyler’s truck.

  Though she loved the old Railroad Trestle Nature Trail, she hadn’t walked it since that day with Jenny. She’d tried. Several times she’d parked her truck at the trailhead, then turned around and gone home without even stepping out. Once she’d gotten as far as the large sign at the entrance. She’d stood there and read every word. She’d learned the history of the Cedar Key Railroad but hadn’t been able to bring herself to step through the open gate.

  Today she was going to walk it. The whole thing. She couldn’t preach to Tyler the importance of facing his fears if she wasn’t willing to do it herself. But she didn’t have to do it alone.

  She smiled up at Tyler. Behind the mangroves to her right, sunlight glistened on the surface of the water. On her other side, marsh grasses filled a small clearing. Callie and Sasha trotted ahead of them.

  Almost three weeks had passed since Louie had pursued them through the woods. She was still living with Joan and Andy, but the work on her house was progressing nicely.

  And the inn was completed, furnished and scheduled to open next weekend. They were going to open with a bang—every room was booked. Of course, it was Labor Day weekend. But according to Andy, the coming weeks didn’t look too shabby, either.

  Tyler smiled down at her. “I’m enjoying my last weekend off for a while.”

  “Me, too.” Saturdays together were going to come to a screeching halt.

  Although the renovation work was done, Paradise Inn was going to be a true family venture. Andy was the owner and manager, Joan would handle housekeeping, and Tyler would be in charge of maintenance and whatever else needed to be done to keep things running smoothly.

  Up ahead, the branches of a red cedar arched over the trail. Nicki recognized the spot immediately. Strength drained from her limbs, leaving behind a watery weakness. Tyler, always sensitive to her moods, squeezed her hand.

  “Right there under that tree is where Jenny attacked me.”

  She shuddered, and Tyler released her hand to wrap his arm around her. Her life had almost ended that day. As she’d lain bleeding on the sandy trail, her knife-wielding sister on top of her, she’d been sure she was going to die the same way her mother had.

  “I’m ready to go home now.” She’d revisited this place too often in her dreams over the past few weeks. Why go there now, when she was fully awake and had a choice? “Callie, come.” The dog walked toward her, enthusiasm dampened.

  Tyler turned her to face him, resting both hands on her shoulders. “You love this place. Are you going to let Jenny take that away from you?”

  She drew in a shaky breath. Tyler was right. Several times she had walked the trail with her sketch pad and a fold-up camp chair, then sat at its end, overlooking the water and mangroves. There was no reason to not go back to those peaceful outings. Jenny was in jail, where she’d maybe get the help she needed. And Louie was dead.

  “All right.” She put her hand in his. She could do this with Tyler next to her.

  He flashed her an encouraging smile. “That’s my girl.” He began walking, leading her down the trail. “You’re a fighter. Always have been.”

  As they passed under the cedar, she scanned the ground. There was no sign of what had happened there four weeks earlier. Not that she’d expected there to be. Any scuff marks in the dirt would have long since been washed away by the summertime rains. So would any bloodstains.

  When they reached the end of the trail, the breeze that had rustled the trees around them blew wisps of hair into her face. She tucked them behind her ear and looked out over the water to the mangrove-lined shore beyond. Sasha and Callie occupied themselves with sniffing their surroundings, and Tyler stepped up beside her. There wasn’t another soul in any direction. A blanket of tranquility lay over the landscape, wrapping her in a soothing embrace.
r />   She smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For making me come out here. Sometimes the best way to banish bad memories is to make new ones. Happy ones.”

  He took both of her hands in his. “I’m planning to make lots of happy memories with you.”

  She cocked a brow at him. “That sounds kind of permanent.” Though he hadn’t talked of leaving since that day in Andy’s driveway, he hadn’t talked long-term, either. They’d spent every spare moment together. He’d gone to church with her, listened to her stories and shared his own. But she still sensed he was taking life one day at a time.

  “It does sound permanent. But that’s my intention.” He drew her into his arms. “When I was a scrawny fifteen-year-old, angry at the world, you reached out to me. You listened to all my ranting and were always there for me. I loved you back then, and I love you now more than ever.”

  Nicki swallowed hard. This wasn’t the first time he’d said he loved her. Over the past two weeks, he’d told her several times. And she’d told him. But something was different this time. There was a solemnness in his gaze as if he was preparing for an important announcement.

  Her stomach turned several flips, and her heart started to pound. She waited for him to continue.

  “A life with me won’t be easy, but I’m pretty sure you know what you’re in for. Do you think you can put up with me?” He gave her a crooked smile.

  Her heart pounded harder. “If you can put up with me.”

  “I don’t think that will be a problem.” He squeezed her hands. “I know you’ve had a lot of bad experiences with men, and they’ve made you apprehensive. I’m not perfect. I’ve got a lot of faults. But I love you with all my heart, and I’d never intentionally do anything to hurt you.” He squeezed her hands. “Nicki, will you marry me?”

  Her mouth went dry and her heart skipped a beat. It was her second marriage proposal in a year. She’d accepted the first one, and look where it had gotten her.

  When Tyler showed up, she hadn’t been looking for a relationship. In fact, she’d sworn off men unless God plopped one in her lap.

  Tyler didn’t exactly land in her lap, but his appearance was just as sudden and unexpected.

  “Nicki?”

  Concern had crept into his eyes. She’d waited too long.

  She pulled her hands from his grasp to wrap her arms around his neck. Committing to marrying Tyler wouldn’t be repeating past mistakes. There were no secrets between them. And there would be no surprises.

  “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

  Relief flooded his face, then pure joy. His arms went around her waist, and he pulled her to him. Then he kissed her long and deep, proving anew his love and devotion.

  And all her hesitation, each concern, every doubt floated away on the salt-scented breeze.

  * * * * *

  If you enjoyed this exciting story of

  suspense and intrigue, pick up

  these other stories from Carol J. Post:

  MIDNIGHT SHADOWS

  MOTIVE FOR MURDER

  OUT FOR JUSTICE

  SHATTERED HAVEN

  HIDDEN IDENTITY

  MISTLETOE JUSTICE

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  Keep reading for an excerpt from DEAD RUN by Jodie Bailey

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  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for joining me for another trip back to Cedar Key. It’s one of our favorite vacation spots, with its quaint, artsy atmosphere and friendly people. Doing research on this series has been a pleasure.

  Nicki and Tyler were fun characters for me to write. After a traumatic early childhood and two years in foster care, Nicki had developed a toughness that often kept her from connecting with others. And Tyler had his own issues to overcome. Like so many of our servicemen who see combat, he brought many of the traumas of war home with him, both physically and emotionally. Neither Tyler nor Nicki was able to begin the path of healing until they decided to open their hearts to love—each other’s and God’s.

  I hope you’ll drop me a line. I love to connect with my readers. You can find me on Facebook (facebook.com/caroljpost.author), Twitter (@caroljpost), my website (caroljpost.com) and email (caroljpost@gmail.com). For news and fun contests, join my newsletter mailing list. The link is on my website. I promise I won’t sell your info or spam you!

  God bless you!

  Carol

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  Dead Run

  by Jodie Bailey

  ONE

  Kristin James jumped sideways, one foot sliding on the gray dirt as she tried to catch her footing on the rough running trail around Smith Lake on the outskirts of Fort Bragg. “For real?” She threw up her hands, but the mountain biker blasted past, nearly driving her into the woods.

  The rider didn’t acknowledge her as he rounded the bend ahead and kept going, the whir of his tires fading among the pine trees.

  “Share the road!” She yelled one more angry rebuke for good measure. Seriously.

  Rotating her foot to make sure her ankle wasn’t twisted, she stepped onto the trail and picked up speed again, the adrenaline from her near miss amping her heart rate better than the first mile of her run already had.

  The All-American Marathon was the next month, and if she was going to maintain her time, she’d better push her training until the runners hit the start line in downtown Fayetteville.

  And hope nobody else burst out of the thick pine trees to run her over.

  The early-morning Carolina breeze whispered in the pines, mild for March but more bearable than the summer. Other than her “friend” on the mountain bike, she hadn’t seen another soul on the trail. Exactly how she liked it.

  A cracking noise around a curve ahead slowed her pace, and she wrinkled her forehead, her steps slowing.

  The mountain biker roared around the curve, heading directly toward her.

  What was he thinking?

  The rider, his face covered by a gray ski mask, ground into the brakes as he neared, the rear end of the bike skidding sideways. The motion threw dirt and gravel on Kristin as she stumbled backward. Taking advantage of her unsteadiness, the rider reached out and shoved her out of the way.

  Kristin fought to recover but fell hard to one knee, sticks and pine straw shredding into her skin. She scramble
d to her feet and stalked toward the daredevil, who’d dropped the bike in the middle of the trail and stood eyeing her like he was ready for whatever challenge she threw at him.

  Well, he’d gotten a bigger challenge than he’d anticipated. Kristin skirted the discarded bike and stopped arm’s length away, sizing up her adversary. He wasn’t much taller than she was, likely a gym rat, the kind of guy who wanted everybody to know his workout routine and to marvel at how he’d built a body by weight machine. He probably skipped leg day, too.

  He wore gray cargo shorts, an odd choice for a mountain biker. A tattooed snake wound around his leg from ankle to knee, fangs bared and dripping vivid red blood. Yeah, leg day wasn’t this guy’s favorite, and he tried to cover it with the scary tat. Nice.

  If she’d had a card with her, she’d have flicked it in his face and told him what a good personal trainer could do for him. On second thought, she’d never liked his type as a client. Especially not since he was cocky enough to think running a woman off the trail was a viable way to get her attention. “What is your problem?”

  A slow grin tipped the corner of his mouth, but it wasn’t amusement flickering in his eyes. It was more like...determination. “No problem. Least not for me.”

  The way he said the words jangled memories in a pulse straight to her feet, driving her backward.

  No. Kristin retreated from no man. Instead, she squared her shoulders, taking the offensive. “Watch where you’re going. And don’t come near me again.”

  She stepped over the rear tire of his bike and moved to start running again.

  A heavy arm hooked around her waist and jerked her backward against a chest as hard as steel, lifting her off the ground. A beefy hand clamped over her mouth, twisting her head painfully to the side.

  Kristin fought a rising panic. No one had laid a hand on her in years, but the memory bit, drawing long-buried fear with it.

  He’s not my father.

  But he likely had more nefarious intentions than knocking any supposed disrespect out of her.