I tried to help a friend. I made a poor decision on how to do it. And because of that I was there to witness two brutal crimes, including the murder of my best friend. Two cold-blooded executions committed by the defendant. Who then tried to kill me, too.
That was the bottom line, and no matter how the opposition tried, it never changed. She couldn’t help the emotions that showed through, and Diego had told her that was a good thing. But she did not break down as she’d feared. She took everything she’d learned—not just from Jack and Diego and Lisa Blaine, but from True, and she stood her ground.
Even the story of how—and especially why—she had run played to her credit, with her grandparents sitting there in the courtroom, doing their best to look fragile and helpless when in fact they were anything but. They were surrounded by the rest of the entourage, and Hope knew Lisa Blaine had been exactly right; this case had become so high-profile because of Deck and Jamie that the police agreed what was left of the gang would never dare to strike at her or her family.
When the guilty verdict came back, she felt the last of a dark cloud lifting, and a lightness that fairly made her giddy. The night vanished into a swirl of celebration and laughter, and she was practically bubbling over with love for all these people who had banded together like a small army to help her through this.
Because of True. The one she loved most of all, in a way she’d never thought possible, never thought she would ever experience. She tried to show it to him that night, using words and hands and mouth and body until he lay, exhausted, but smiling.
“Darlin’ if you’re trying to kill me, you sure picked the way I’d want to go,” he drawled into the darkness just before dawn.
“I’m trying to say I love you.”
“Believe me, I got that a while back.” He reached for her, pulled her close. “You know I love you, don’t you?”
She couldn’t stop her grin. “Believe me, I got that a while back.”
She felt his laugh, that wonderful laugh, rumbling up from his chest before she heard it. She settled against him, listening to the strong, steady beat of that heart that she knew was as constant as his name.
Later, after they’d slept for a while and the room was beginning to lighten, she sighed. “I can’t believe I wasted all that time running when I didn’t really have to.”
True went very still beside her. “I’m glad you did. If you hadn’t, we’d have never met.”
She hadn’t thought of that. But then that’s what True did, made her think of things differently. She lifted up on one elbow to look at him.
“You’re right.”
“I’d say you ran just far enough.”
She sighed again, but it was a happy one this time. And she put her head back on his chest. “And I can’t wait to get back.”
It was a moment before True said, “You mean that?”
She gave him a puzzled look. “Of course.”
“I just. . .we haven’t really talked about what happens now. What you want to do.”
“Go home,” she said simply.
He let out a long breath that sounded relieved. “I’m glad it’s home to you.”
She raised up once more, glad that it was light enough now that he could not mistake her expression. “Home to me,” she said seriously, “is wherever you are.”
He grabbed her then, held her so tight she could barely breathe, but she didn’t care. Then words tumbled out of him so rapidly she knew he’d been carrying them for a while.
“Marry me, Hope. Not right now, if you don’t want, I know this isn’t the best time, you need to settle after all this, and get caught up with your grandparents, and get used to not being afraid anymore, but later—”
She cut off the flow with a finger to his lips. “You said you would help me take my life back. You have. So it’s mine again. And now. . .I give it to you.”
Epilogue
True was not sorry to leave the circus behind. It had died down after the trial had ended, although it had taken a couple of days, but it seemed everyone wanted Hope’s story. True understood why, it was an emotional, dramatic tale, and the addition of Jamie and Deck made it irresistible. But he’d been relieved when she’d said she wanted to get away from it.
They’d spent a couple of days at her grandparents’ tidy suburban home, because he’d wanted to see where she’d grown up. And, he’d told her, talk to her grandfather. When she’d realized what he’d meant, she’d smiled broadly.
“Oh, he’ll love that. He’s kind of old school.”
“I got that idea, when it comes to you. So I’ll ask his permission.”
“It’s beyond corny, but so sweet I can hardly stand it,” she’d said.
“Not,” he said pointedly, “that I’m going to take no for an answer.”
“He won’t say no,” Hope said with a smile bordering on smug. “Gran won’t let him. She thinks you’re too hot to pass up.”
He grinned. She sighed happily. She’d been doing a lot of that lately, and every time it made him feel good inside in a way he couldn’t put words to.
Gramps hadn’t said no, had only smiled widely and said, “Well, son, that’s the smallest surprise I’ve ever heard. But thanks for humoring an old man.”
He’d glanced at Hope, then said impulsively, “Come back with us now. You should see where she’ll be.”
“Do come,” Hope chimed in, “I want you to see why.” She grinned before adding, “Besides, when will you get a chance to fly on a private jet again?”
And so, after a few days where Hope went off on various errands, sometimes with Zee, sometimes with Kelsey and Lisa, sometimes the four of them together, and one semi-mysterious one alone, reclaiming her life, here they were, finally headed home. And after showing her slightly nervous grandparents around the jet, she settled in beside him for the flight.
He watched the older couple, smiling as they looked excitedly out the window of the jet as they took off. He reached for Hope’s hand, noticed again the edge of the bandage on her wrist. The mysterious errand she hadn’t been able to keep secret because of the care it would take afterward; she had, she’d said, done something about the tattoo. He wouldn’t have minded if she’d kept it, in a way it reminded him of what she’d gone through to protect this loving couple. But it was her wrist, not his, and her decision.
“I think it’s great, how Deck and Jamie hit it off,” she said.
Since Kelsey and Deck had decided to stay with her mom a bit longer and Jamie was based here, the two men had been spending a lot of time together to escape the copious wedding shopping.
“I’m not sure if being seen hanging out together will destroy Deck’s reputation or improve Jamie’s,” True said dryly.
She laughed. Genuine, carefree. He couldn’t think of anything to say, his heart was suddenly too full of the love he felt for this woman. And then Jack saved him, getting up now that they’d leveled off and coming to sit opposite them.
“They’re good people,” he said, nodding toward her grandparents.
“The best,” Hope said.
“They did right by you,” he said.
“I would have been totally lost without them. I made my mistakes—” she paused and glanced at True “—I know, I’m putting it behind me, but it still matters that none of it was their fault.”
“In a way it was,” True said. Hope drew back, startled. He squeezed her hand as he went on. “They’re the ones who taught you how to care enough about a friend to even try to help.”
She smiled, closed her eyes for a moment, as if in memory. “Yes,” she said softly. “Yes, they did.” Her gaze shifted to the couple at the jet’s window. “I have the best parents and grandparents in the world.”
“Yes,” True said, then gave her a wink. “I hope you’ll share, though.”
“With you? Anything. Everything.”
“And I,” Jack said with an exaggerated cough next to them, “will go back to my magazine and pretend I can’t see yo
u two making out. Again.”
True would have laughed, but he was too busy doing exactly that.
*
At last they were home. Zee had announced that breakfast was at her place in the morning, before heading through the connecting door. Her grandparents were settled in the guest room that had once been hers, admittedly weary after not just the trip and the welcome but the trial, ready to rest before venturing out to see the town that had accepted Hope so warmly.
In the quiet aftermath, Hope paused before the photograph of Amanda Mahan. And instead of feeling wistful, she smiled at the image. “I understand now, how you felt. I will be good to him, I promise.”
And then Hope found herself standing in True’s bedroom—their bedroom now—a little at a loss. He came up behind her and slipped his arms around her.
“It’s all right,” he said. “The next few days you’ll be busy, catching up with them, showing them around. It’s after that the crash will come, when you finally realize it’s really all over.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
She sighed, leaned into him. Her wrist, still slightly tender, signaled that fact as the cuff of her shirt rubbed over it. And she realized there was one last thing to do before it was really ended.
She stepped away from him, turned to face him. He gave her a puzzled look. She shoved her sleeve up, and peeled at the protective cover around her wrist. It came away easily enough; she’d given it enough time. The skin was still slightly reddened, but that would fade.
“I love you, True Mahan,” she said solemnly, and held her wrist out for him to see.
His brow furrowed as he looked down. He stared for a moment, and she saw the moment when he realized what she’d done. His gaze shot back to her face.
“Hope. . .”
“I thought of getting rid of it, but this seemed. . .better. I don’t ever want to forget how close I came to losing everything. And who gave it all back to me.”
“I gave you nothing. You fought for it, and you won.”
“I never would have, if not for you.”
He looked about to speak, then stopped. Instead he slowly lifted her hand, then bent to press his lips to her wrist where the once rather harsh black lines had been softened by a string of blue and green that were easily discernable as the initials T and H entwined.
When he lifted his head, those blue eyes looked into hers and he said softly, “Welcome home.”
She smiled, and repeated what she’d told him before, and meant now more than ever. “My home is wherever you are. But Whiskey River will do nicely.”
“I love you, Hope.”
“And that,” she said, “makes me the luckiest girl in the world.”
She spent the rest of the night showing him she meant it. And in the morning, her new, golden life began.
The End
The Whiskey River Series
Book 1: Whiskey River Rescue
Buy now!
Book 2: Whiskey River Runaway
View the entire series here!
Book 3: Coming soon
Love the town of Whiskey River, Texas? Stay awhile. Where the women are feisty, the men are sexy and the romance is hotter than ever.
The Brothers of Whiskey River Series
If you enjoyed Whiskey River Runaway, you’ll love the other Whiskey River stories!
Book 1: Texas Heirs by Eve Gaddy and Katherine Garbera
Buy now!
Book 2: Texas Cowboy by Eve Gaddy
Buy now!
Book 3: Texas Tycoon by Katherine Garbera
Buy now!
Book 4: Texas Rebel by Eve Gaddy
Buy now!
Book 5: Texas Lover by Katherine Garbera
Buy now!
Book 6: Texas Bachelor by Eve Gaddy and Katherine Garbera
Buy now!
Keep Up with your Favorite Authors and their New Releases
For the latest news from Tule Publishing authors, sign up for our newsletter here or check out our website at TulePublishing.com
Stay social! For new release updates, behind-the-scenes sneak peeks, and reader giveaways:
Like us on
Follow us on
Follow us on
See you online!
About the Author
Author of more than 70 books, (she sold her first ten in less than two years) Justine Davis is a five time winner of the coveted RWA RITA Award, including for being inducted into the RWA Hall of Fame. A fifteen time nominee for RT Book Review awards, she has won four times, received three of their lifetime achievement awards, and had four titles on the magazine’s 200 Best of all Time list. Her books have appeared on national best seller lists, including USA Today. She has been featured on CNN, taught at several national and international conferences, and at the UCLA writer’s program.
After years of working in law enforcement, and more years doing both, Justine now writes full time. She lives near beautiful Puget Sound in Washington State, peacefully coexisting with deer, bears, a pair of bald eagles, a tailless raccoon, and her beloved ’67 Corvette roadster. When she’s not writing, taking photographs, or driving said roadster (and yes, it goes very fast) she tends to her knitting. Literally.
Visit Justine at her website at JustineDavis.com
*
For all the latest news from Tule Publishing, visit our website at TulePublishing.com and sign up for our newsletter here!
Whiskey River Runaway (Whiskey River Series Book 2) Page 23