“Kacey?”
Her name. She opened her eyes, listened.
“Kacey, can you hear me?”
That voice . . . And then, with a jolt, it all rushed back. Ben.
She was home. And the last thing she remembered was sliding through Sierra’s house as it imploded on her.
Oh no—Audrey.
She opened her mouth, but her voice barely emerged a whisper. “Here. I’m here.”
“Kacey, if you can hear me, make a noise, anything.” Again, Ben’s voice. What was he doing here? And he sounded so desperate it made her ache.
Her arm stretched out on the floor in front of her—she couldn’t move it, her legs too—and it stung her that maybe she didn’t feel anything because . . . oh no, she couldn’t be.
How badly was she hurt? Please, she couldn’t be paralyzed.
Her breaths came in fast, hurdling over her. “I’m—here.” Her voice barely dented the pitch, fell back to her without breaching the walls around her. She closed her eyes.
Don’t panic.
Oh, she was way past panicking. She heard it in her breaths, the rush of her pulse, her thundering heart.
It wasn’t fair. Yes, she’d made a few mistakes, but she’d been trying to fix those. To make up for them, to yes, deserve something good, like Audrey said.
Clearly, God disagreed.
“But what if God brought you back here to save you.”
Sierra’s voice, in her head, and she wanted to laugh, but the irony just burned.
What if God brought her back to remind her that she could never have the life she longed for?
That sounded about right. And really, that’s what she deserved, for keeping Ben from his daughter, abandoning that daughter, even letting the world think she was some kind of hero, when really, she was a coward who’d simply let fear take over.
“Mom? Are you there?”
She nodded, tears dripping off her chin.
Above them, she heard more voices, but they were muffled and she felt herself start to shake.
Then, softly, she heard a voice. Not Ben’s deep rumble, but something sweet and soft, familiar.
Beautiful.
Singing.
When you need a friend
A shoulder you can cry on
Someone who understands what you’re going through
Just look over here, see me standing closer
Audrey? Except it didn’t sound like her daughter’s voice. It came from inside, a heartbeat.
The song she’d sung in Afghanistan. It had come to her in the middle of the night from the hidden places of her heart, with Duffy moaning six feet from her, O’Reilly on the other side, shivering, swearing.
Perhaps God hadn’t left her in the dark then. Or now. More, he’d redeemed the past, used it to carry her through the darkness.
“He is the object of your searching.”
She heard Sierra’s voice as clearly as if she’d spoken to her through the darkness.
“Don’t be afraid of letting go and walking into all God has for you.”
Kacey closed her eyes, feeling the sob rise inside.
Words floated to the top, and she latched onto them.
Please, God, I need you,
I need you, I need you . . .
And that’s when she felt it. A warmth passing through her, sinking into her, settling her heartbeat.
A presence. A voice.
“Nobody will love you the way I do.”
And just like that, the fear whooshed out of her.
“Kacey!”
Her eyes jerked open, and fractured light broke through. A hand grabbed hers.
She blinked as the light revealed the man peering at her through the boards.
“Wow, you’re beautiful,” Ben said. His face was nearly black with grime, and his blue eyes glowed, so much relief in them that they started to glaze over.
“What happened? Where’s Audrey?”
“I already found her. She’s okay. We didn’t know where you were, but then the fridge came down. And when it did, it broke open this wall.” His voice shook, just a little. “Listen, I’m going to get you out of here.”
He turned as if to go, but she gripped his hand. Pain sliced through her, and she cried out.
Clearly not paralyzed. She wanted to weep with relief.
He turned back to her. “It’s fine. The fridge landed vertically. It’s actually holding the floor up.” He let out something of a sound of disbelief. “We’re going to be okay.”
“Yeah, we are—but only if you don’t leave me.” She realized how awful, how pitiful that sounded, but she didn’t care. “Please, Ben, don’t leave me.”
She should have said it thirteen years ago instead of listening to her hurt, the lies that told her she didn’t deserve the happy ending.
She was not her mother.
“Don’t leave me, Ben. And not here, I mean. Don’t. Leave. Me. We need you—Audrey and I. And if that means we have to follow you around the country, then—”
“Shh.” He reached his other hand through the grid of boards, touched her arm. “I’m not going anywhere. You and Audrey are my life—and we’ll figure it out. I promise. But let’s do it after we get you out from under this house, okay?”
She gave a feeble, pitiful laugh, and he smiled, white teeth against the grime. Except—
“Audrey—”
“Is fine, really.”
“Is she . . . was she singing?”
Ben shook his head. Glanced back. “I think she might be praying, though.”
Kacey gave another laugh. It ended in a groan. “I guess we did something right.”
“That we did, baby.”
What if it were Sierra the rescuers were fighting to extract from the rubble of her house? That thought kept shuddering through Ian as he watched the Whitefish then the Mercy Falls FD work with the team to extricate Audrey and Kacey from the tangle of wood, plaster, appliances, fixtures, and furniture.
Spotlights turned the now-rutted front yard to midday, and with all hands on deck, he’d donned a rescue jacket and helped with the assembly line that tore apart the house, creating a hole big enough for Jess and Pete to climb in and help Ben move Audrey to a stretcher, despite her assurance she felt fine.
She looked like a Chilean miner, her body covered in grime. But she possessed her mother’s fighting spirit because she refused to leave the site until her mother emerged.
Sierra, too, had joined in the efforts, despite a heated argument with Sam, one Ian recognized as all too familiar.
No one got between Sierra and her desire to help.
Which, really, made them too much alike, probably. Because he recognized his own frustration in her tone, the same frustration he’d leveled at her.
“We’re ready to move her!” Jess’s voice came through the walkie-talkie in Miles’s hand, and he nodded to the team to move into place. They positioned themselves strategically along the recovery path to move her stretcher hand-by-hand instead of trying to climb out with it in tow. Safer for everyone. Ian lined up across from Gage, next to Ty, who positioned himself nearer the hole to grab Kacey’s litter, across from Ben.
Ian felt for the guy, understood his grim, almost desperate expression as he resigned Kacey’s care to Jess and Pete.
The team had affixed ropes and a pulley system to stabilize the litters as they came out. Miles and one of the firefighters from Mercy Falls worked the system as Pete and Jess wrestled Kacey up to the rescuers. They’d stabilized her with a collar, secured her tight into the litter, cocooned in a blanket, her shoulder, which they thought she’d broken, secured to her body.
“I got you, Kace,” Ben said as he put a hand on the portable stretcher. Ty took the other side, and Ian moved in to assist.
Kacey managed a smile at Ben as they passed her along, out of danger.
Ian and Gage carried her out to the ambulance, Ben scrambling out of the rubble after them.
Audrey came up to
her, a blanket around her shoulders. “Mom!”
“I’m okay, honey,” Kacey managed, and then Ian handed her off to the waiting stretcher and the EMTs from Kalispell.
He stood there watching as they packed her up, as Ben demanded a ride, finally conceding to ride in the other rig, with Audrey.
What if it had been Sierra?
Ian blew out a long, tired breath. Turned and spied Sierra now staring at her house.
She needed a home. A friend. Help.
He came up next to her, not sure how to offer anything off that list. “I’m sorry about your house.”
She glanced up at him, her face dirty, her eyes reddened. He barely stifled the urge to reach out, pull her into his embrace.
“It’s just a house.”
“You worked on that house for five years. It’s not just a house.”
“It was old, and the foundation was crumbling, and I should have had it inspected after the flood.” She rubbed her hands on her arms. “I’m so grateful that Kacey and Audrey are okay.”
“Me too,” he said. “But where are you going to sleep tonight?”
She gave him a smile. “Jess offered her place.”
“What? I’ve seen that place. She’s sleeping in her living room. It’s barely habitable.”
Sierra held up her hand. “It’s fine. It’s a roof over our heads.”
“Stay with me, Sierra. I have lots of rooms—”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ian.” Her smile was tight. “But thanks.”
“If you’re worried about . . .” He swallowed. “What happened, it won’t . . .” Shoot. “It won’t happen again.”
But the sense of her in his arms, those lips kissing him . . . He had to blow out a breath, add a smile. “Really.”
She considered him a long moment. Then, finally, “Thank you for your offer, Ian, but I don’t want your help.”
She, too, manufactured a smile. “I need to move on, stop thinking you need me. You don’t, and I know that now. But if I stay with you—and believe me, I appreciate the offer—I’ll just jump back into your world. I can’t help it, really. So I need to say good-bye and let you do what you need to do.”
He stared at her and couldn’t flush the frustration from his voice. “Why are you so stubborn?”
She recoiled, stepped back. “I’m not stubborn. But you can’t be my entire world anymore, Ian. I should have seen that earlier, but believe me, I’m seeing clearly now. And the one thing my mother taught me is how to say good-bye, to walk away and stand on my own. So I’m not being stubborn. I’m moving on. And so should you.”
But he didn’t want her to move on. She was his entire world too.
“I’m not ready to say good-bye,” he said quietly.
“I know.” She touched his arm, squeezed, compassion in her eyes.
No, she didn’t. “Sierra—”
“No, Ian. I wish you the best on your search. I really hope you find out what happened to Esme. But I can’t be a part of it anymore.” She gave him a sad smile. Then she walked away toward Jess, who had just climbed out of the house debris and was debriefing Miles.
Leaving him there with her words. Move on.
But how exactly could he? Not without her. But maybe she was right—not until he was able to say good-bye to Esme.
Behind him, he heard the ambulances pull away.
“I’m glad I caught you, Ian.” Sheriff Blackburn stepped up beside him. “I wanted to give you an update on that body we found. The coroner is still searching for a positive ID. She suggested that she could compare DNA to Esme’s if you still had a sample.”
“I’ll find something.”
“Good. Because she found something on the body we wanted you to take a look at.” He pulled out his cell phone, scrolled to a picture. Handed it to Ian.
Ian stared at it. The sight of the necklace on a tray hollowed him out. A diamond pendant inside a heart hung on a tangled tarnished silver chain.
“I gave Esme that necklace on her eighteenth birthday,” he said quietly.
Blackburn took the phone back. “I’m so sorry, Ian.”
“Then who was the girl that Lulu gave a ride to Saint Mary?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Clearly, Sam hadn’t updated the sheriff on the search. Ian filled him in. “We even talked to someone who picked her up in East Glacier—it sounded just like Esme.”
“I’m sorry, Ian. I don’t know what to tell you. The necklace isn’t a positive ID, of course, but I think you should prepare yourself for the likelihood this is your niece. I’m so sorry.”
He pocketed his phone, walked away.
Ian looked back at Sierra.
Of course, his first urge was to update her, to tell her that . . . Well, maybe it was over.
He didn’t know how he felt. A jolt, yes, the sense of grief for his revived hope.
But for some reason he also felt as if a grip had loosened around his chest.
This could be over. All of it—and then he could let go.
Figure out how to move on.
He started toward Sierra, a crazy, wild stirring inside him.
Sam joined their group, sidling up to Sierra.
He put his arm around her shoulder, something loose, like a friend would, and that wouldn’t have stopped Ian except for the way she looked up at Sam.
She laughed, something sweet that lit up her entire face. Then she gave Sam a funny punch, and he, too, laughed.
The shine in her eyes made Ian stop.
Move on.
He turned, shoved his hands in his pockets, and headed for his truck.
Apparently, she already had.
16
Daddy.
Audrey had called him that twice in the last hour.
Ben’s heart still rushed to the name, something sweet and bright inside him. And it only grew as she cuddled up on the hospital sofa next to him, settling her head on his shoulder as she fell asleep.
He could hardly believe she’d escaped with only a few bruises. Or that Kacey had only suffered a broken collarbone, a dislocated shoulder, and a few broken ribs.
He glanced at the clock. Nearly an hour she’d been in surgery as the orthopedic surgeon reset the bone in place and attached a plate.
He closed his eyes, which were still burning from the dust of the house. He longed for a shower but had no intention of moving from Kacey’s or Audrey’s sides. Ever.
Audrey shifted beside him, sighing.
He pressed a kiss to her hair, still feeling her hand clutch his as they’d ridden together in the ambulance. “I knew you’d come for me, Daddy.”
He ran a finger under his eye.
“Is she out of surgery yet?”
The voice alerted him, and he steeled himself as he spotted Judge Fairing at the nurse’s desk in the hall.
Thankfully, he hadn’t had to make the call—he’d left that to Sierra, who had clearly taken her time.
Maybe knowing the inevitable collision of wills.
Well, he hadn’t just found them only to lose them again. Ben eased Audrey down onto the sofa and got up, then walked across the room, into the hallway, stretching his neck, his aching back.
Laura stood nearby, listening as the Judge interrogated the staff.
“She’s probably in recovery by now,” Ben said to him.
Robert Fairing turned to him. Unshaven, wearing a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, he’d never looked so ruffled. But it only took him a second to regroup. “What are you doing here? I thought you would have left with your band.”
“Not my band. Hollie’s band. And good try, but I’m not leaving.”
The Judge’s mouth tightened around the edges. He turned to the nurse on duty. “I’ll be in the waiting room. Let me know when she’s out.”
He glanced at his wife, who followed her husband into the room. Audrey was awake, sitting on the sofa, her knees drawn up. She sprang up when she saw them, went to the Judge
, and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Oh, Grandpa, it was just terrible.”
Ben watched as Robert pressed a kiss to the top of her head, a softness on his face that belied his tone in the hallway.
Laura, too, gave her a hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
However they felt about Ben, they clearly loved their granddaughter.
Laura looked over at Ben, then back to Audrey. “Do you need something to eat? There’s a vending machine down the hallway.”
“Really?”
“Just this once.” Laura winked, and Audrey left the room with her.
Judge Fairing turned to Ben. “You know that technically you’re not family. We can forbid you from seeing her.”
Just try it. But Ben managed a tight smile. “I know. For now. But you won’t, because you know that Audrey wouldn’t allow it. Or Kacey.”
“Just because you’ve stuck around to save them doesn’t mean that you’re here for the hard stuff—”
Ben held up his hand. “We’re not doing this again. You cost me thirteen years—”
“I saved you both. Gave you a chance to grow up, find your way. Look at you—you’re a big star. You should be thanking me.”
Funny, he actually sounded serious.
Except . . . Ben blew out a hot breath, schooled his voice. “I will thank you. For taking care of Audrey. For loving her and giving her a good home. And I admit I was an idealistic kid back then, scared, and yeah, I did believe that maybe Kacey was better off without me. Not anymore.”
The Judge shook his head. “You think you know what’s best for her, but—”
“No, I don’t know what’s best for her. And probably Kacey doesn’t either—so we’re going to trust God to figure it out. To put our lives back together. One day at a time. I don’t know what that looks like, but I do know that I’m not going to let my fears—and my mistakes—keep me from being the dad I want to be. The husband I want to be.”
Judge Fairing looked away, walked over to the picture window, where a light shone down over the parking lot.
Ben knew the view—he’d stared at it for a long time after their arrival, praying.
A lot of praying.
God, protect my heart, because I’m giving it to you.
“You can’t blame me for wanting the best for her,” Robert said quietly. “I was just trying to protect her.”
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