Perris took two long strides to halt Beau’s progress. “Go back to the station and wait. I’ll let you know—”
He was sick of hearing that people would “let him know.” Beau shouldered past Perris—heard the chief bark, “Troutman, get a leash on your friend!” But nothing could keep him from the face he’d seen on his computer screen. The slightly modified face stared back. Despite his injuries, the powerbroker with the ice-blue eyes managed a slow, smug smile that amplified Beau’s anger and made him consider things he’d never done before.
Dane spoke smoothly over the ambulance’s screaming arrival, ridicule in his voice. “Hello, Carpenter.”
“Where is she?” Beau demanded.
Lowering the bloody cloth, he said cordially, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Fish took his arm. “Come on, Beau. You need to step back.”
“And you need to make this idiot talk!”
“Troutman, get him out of there!” Perris yelled as he went to meet the paramedics.
“Come on, Beau!”
Dane repeated Beau’s question. “Where is she? If I had anything to do with her disappearance, which I did not, I’d guess that she’s—” he smiled “—hidden away somewhere. Though I doubt you’ll find her in time.” His tone cooled. “Just know that your little harlot got what she deserved.”
Beau lunged for him, caught the lapels of Dane’s topcoat before he dragged him back. But in those few seconds before he wrestled him away, Beau saw something that gave him hope. There was a handheld GPS on the Chrysler’s console—and the car was already equipped with one!
Thoughts racing, he stared from several yards away at Dane’s light gray dress pants. They were wet up to his calves, which implied that he’d either been walking where the snow was deeper—or where snow-covered brush could leave it’s mark.
Fish was still beside him, repeatedly assuring him that they’d find Jenna. But Beau was only half listening. He had to think.
It was agony to wait until the paramedics fitted Dane with a collar and transferred him to a gurney, but the instant he was in the ambulance, Beau turned to Fish. “I need a favor.”
Fish glanced back at Perris who was talking to Drago now. “No.”
“Listen,” he said earnestly. “There’s a GPS lying on the Chrysler’s console. I need to see it.”
Fish shook his head. “Perris’ll skin me.”
The reprisal would probably be a lot worse than that, but— “Please. Just get it and check the coordinates listed. The car has a factory-installed navigation system. There’s no need for Dane to have a spare GPS unless he planned to head for another destination on foot.” He lowered his voice when Perris sent them a suspicious glance. “Please. It’ll be dark soon, and the temperature’s dropping. Jenna could be at one of those coordinates.”
The air in front of Fish steamed when he sighed. “Okay. This is Perris’s collar, so he’ll be following the ambulance to the ER, and leaving Drago and me to clean up here and wait for the wrecker. But you’re gonna owe me big-time.”
“Whatever you want is yours.”
“Yeah, right. Just put on your gloves, and don’t screw up our perp’s fingerprints.”
Two minutes later Beau was staring at the GPS’s lighted display, his nerve endings on fire. There was only one latitude and longitude listed—only one waypoint. He headed for his truck. “Fish, I need to borrow this for a while.”
Fish rushed after him. “No! You can’t have that!”
Knowing Fish couldn’t stop him without getting himself in hot water, Beau climbed inside, slammed the door and started the engine. It was unfair, but it wasn’t life-or-death. Jenna’s circumstances were. “I’ll bring it back!” he shouted through his closed side window.
“Beau!”
Hitting the gas, he fishtailed around the police cruiser in front of him, then headed south toward Payton’s Rocks, the direction from which Dane had come. Beau kept one eye on the road and the other on the GPS’s lighted display. The arrow directed him to take a left turn onto an old state route. And suddenly, Beau knew—hoped and prayed that he knew—where Dane had left her. He’d said Jenna was probably “hidden away” somewhere. Was that a sly little clue from a not-so-clever egomaniac? Dane had had the Blackberry bugged. He had to have heard Beau telling Jenna about The Hideaway.
It was misery driving only fast enough for conditions. But the salt trucks had been out, and here and there the salt was doing its job. Signs of residential life disappeared as he climbed higher into the Alleghenies, passing hunting camps, his heart beating faster with every mile.
He glanced at the GPS to be sure, but he already knew his destination was just over the next rise. “Thank you, God,” he whispered. “Please, don’t let me be too late.”
He spotted a snowmobile in the twilight, sitting at the head end of the old railroad grade. Beau yanked his cell phone from his belt.
Sarah French answered his 911 call. “Sarah, it’s Beau. I need an ambulance. I’m six miles from town on State Route 549, about a mile past the road leading to Payton’s Rocks. My truck will be there.”
“Did you find her?”
If he was wrong, he’d worry about it later. “Yes. Hurry!”
Grabbing the old blanket and flashlight he kept for emergencies from his backseat, he ran for the snowmobile, half skidding, half falling in the snow. “Please, please,” he whispered. He hopped on the sled—thanked God that the key was still in the ignition. Seconds later, he was roaring through the blowing snow toward the old depot. Two jarring, interminably long minutes later, the ruins were below him. Beau parked the sled, grabbed the flashlight and blanket, and crashed down through the uneven terrain and brush toward those decaying walls.
“Jenna!”
No answer. He called her name again. Still nothing.
Fear of what he’d find took his breath as those stone walls came closer. He was only twenty yards away now…ten yards…five. He rushed inside. Blood thudded in his temples as he glanced around. Then with a muffled cry, he spotted her, nearly snow-covered in the high corner. He was beside her in a moment, brushing snow from her cold face and hair and releasing her bonds. He wrapped her in the blanket from her head to her feet—pulled her onto his lap and slid his warm gloves over her frozen hands. “Jenna! Jenna, wake up!”
Unzipping his jacket, he pulled her against his warm chest, rubbed her blanket-covered back and limbs. Tears stung his eyes. “Jenna, please wake up. Stay with me. Because I don’t know what I’ll do if you leave.” He kissed her cheeks, brushed wet hair from her face, kissed her lips.
Then a sigh broke between them, and every terrified muscle Beau owned sagged in relief.
A hint of a smile touched her lips as her eyes finally opened. “Relax,” she whispered. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”
* * *
That wasn’t entirely true.
After he’d carried her to the snowmobile, then to his heated truck, Fish, Perris and the ambulance arrived, and the paramedics took her away. Beau had followed in his truck, praying constantly that Dane and the elements hadn’t done irreversible damage. He knew about hypothermia. It could cost limbs, heart problems, even death.
He was pacing outside the emergency room when he heard Jenna raise her voice and refuse to give Perris a statement until Beau was in the room. Red-faced again, the chief opened the door and beckoned him inside.
She was fully alert when he eased inside the privacy curtain. It killed him to see her scrapes and bruises and the IV line in her left hand. But she was alive. Jenna slid her right hand out from her warming blankets to take his.
“You look better,” he said, smiling.
“Warmer and drier, anyway. Thanks to you.”
He shook his head and pointed skyward.
“I know,” she said quietly. “Him, too.” Then Beau listened while she gave Perris the statement he wanted.
When Perris and Fish were gone, Beau took a seat at the side of
her narrow bed. They’d started something wonderful in the ruins. Now he wanted to make that permanent. Nearly losing her had hammered home the point that life was short, and only a fool wasted a moment of it.
He stroked her hand and spoke softly. “I want to say a lot of things right now, but first I need to know if you remember what you said at the ruins.”
Jenna sent him a hesitant smile. “I said I wasn’t going anywhere without you. Did you mean what you said?”
“Oh, yeah.” He considered what he was about to say for a moment—tried to find the right words and failed so he did the best he could. “I know you’ll probably want to take this slow. I mean, this is all pretty new. But when the time’s right I have a question to ask you.”
Against his protests, she sat up on the bed and inched a little closer. “Maybe you should ask me now, while I still have the courage to say a few things to you.”
“What things?”
“I have scars from the attack. They’re not terrible…but they’re there.”
How could she think that mattered to him? “So what?”
“I might not be able to give you a baby.”
Careful of her IV, he gathered her close. “I don’t know how important that is to you, but it isn’t to me. A baby of our own would be great. But I didn’t fall in love with the idea of having a child. I fell in love with you. After growing up the way I did, I’d almost prefer to adopt a kid who needs a couple of good parents and a loving home.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “Maybe we’ll be able to do both.”
“Maybe we will,” he repeated. Then smiling again, he tipped her face up to his. “Now will you please say yes so we can get on with the kissing part of this proposal?”
Jenna laughed softly. “Yes,” she whispered as he bent to cover her lips. “Yes, yes, yes.”
EPILOGUE
Jenna looked out the window at the gently falling snow beyond St. John’s filled-to-capacity parking lot. Today the late-March snow didn’t frighten her. It was no longer a terrifying instrument of death. It was a lovely white backdrop to the happiest day of her life.
Margo and Rachel came to the window to fuss with the train of her simple white satin gown and the crown of pink rosettes and ivy circling her head.
“Remind you of anything?” Margo asked, grinning.
Jenna grinned back. A little over a year ago, the three of them had gathered in this same room to fuss over Margo before her wedding to Cole. Now, dressed in strapless, spring-green satin gowns and carrying nosegays of pink roses, baby’s breath and ivy, Rachel and Margo were doing the same for her.
“This is so incredible,” Jenna said, her gaze moving between her two best friends. “Two years ago, the three of us were all single and wondering if we’d ever find someone to build a life with.” She hugged Margo. “Now you and Cole are together—” she hugged Rachel “—you and Jake are expecting a baby, and in a few minutes, Beau and I will be saying our vows.”
Rachel smiled. “We’re all so blessed.”
Jenna nodded. The dangers in their lives were in the past now. Thanks to Courtland’s testimony, he and the men who’d abducted her were in prison. As for “Mrs. Bolton”… She was still out there, but Jenna didn’t fear her return.
Gayle Harper stepped inside, a smile on her young-looking features. She wore a lacy beige mother-of-the-bride dress, and her ash-blond hair was arranged in the same softly upswept style as Jenna’s—wispy bangs, loose, face-framing tendrils and all. She walked to Jenna and kissed her, happy tears shining in her eyes. Then she took in the three of them. “Ready?” she asked. “There are three good-looking young men out there waiting for you to join them.”
“And one of them,” Aunt Molly added peeking inside, “is getting very impatient to see his bride.”
Rachel placed a bouquet of trailing white lilies, pink roses and ivy in Jenna’s hands, then kissed her cheek. “Well then, let’s not keep him waiting a minute longer.”
Margo kissed Jenna’s other cheek, a tradition that had begun at her wedding. “You are ready, right?”
Filled with indescribable joy, Jenna nodded. “I’ve been ready forever.”
* * *
With his nerve endings vibrating with every soft note filling the church, Beau watched Margo, then Rachel glide down the church’s white runner, smiling at friends, then joining their husbands to stand to the left of Reverend Landers. If Jenna didn’t show up soon, he’d come completely apart. He didn’t know how much more tension he could take.
His heart shot into his throat when the organ music stopped.
Then Emma Lucille hit a few high notes, started the wedding march and the congregation stood to face the back of the church.
All of Beau’s jitters fell away as Jenna appeared and walked slowly forward with her mom on her right and Aunt Molly on her left.
How could he have ever considered backing away from her? How could he have even tried? She was perfection from the roses in her hair to the cross at her throat and the snow-white gown that left her shoulders bare.
He stepped out to meet her, and everything around him faded to a blur except for her beautiful face.
“Last chance to back out,” Jenna whispered, and there was so much love in her blue eyes Beau was afraid his voice would break when he answered.
“Not a chance,” he whispered back. Smiling, he brought her fingertips to his lips and kissed them. “Not a chance in Heaven.”
* * * * *
Dear Reader,
We live in amazing times.
Wireless cell phones connect us with distant friends and family; the internet feeds us information in seconds; and robots sometimes do the work of people on assembly lines. God has blessed us with an incredible amount of intelligence.
But there was a time when the world didn’t spin quite as fast. Understand, I’d miss my computer and cell phone if I didn’t have them. But back in the 1950s and 1960s, penny candy, soda fountains and kick-the-can on warm summer nights were the highlights of our young lives.
Mike and I talked about that as we sipped slushies, munched popcorn and watched an international bunch of kids play baseball at the 2011 Little League World Series in Williamsport, Pennsylvania. Being there was a gentle reminder to enjoy the simpler things in life. That afternoon, no one in the stands “texted” or “tweeted” their smiles and applause. They cheered, they clapped and they chanted. It was personal. And it was great. God willing, we’ll be there again in August!
Blessings,
Lauren
Questions for Discussion
In the recent past, Jenna was a jury foreperson. If you’ve ever served on a jury, how did it feel, having someone’s life in your hands? Did you ask God for guidance? Did you consider excusing yourself because the responsibility was too great?
During a Sunday church service, Jenna’s pastor tells his congregation that when we’ve done as much as we can to solve a problem, we have to give it to God and move on. Sometimes that’s easier said than done. How do you deal with situations over which you have no control?
As a teenager, Beau had a scrape with the law, and Aunt Molly paid his fines under two conditions: He was to work off his debt, and start attending church. Eventually Beau wanted to attend—but is there a better way to introduce non-believers to Jesus? Have you ever tried to do that, and what was the outcome?
Who is your favorite secondary character in this book, and why?
One of the characters in At Any Cost is octogenarian Elmer Fox who has definite opinions about today’s fads. What are your views on current fashions, tattoos and piercings? Do you agree with Elmer? Or do you accept that we’re all different and have a right to live our lives as we see fit?
There are dream sequences in this book. Some people believe that dreams have a purpose beyond entertaining us while we sleep. What do you think?
Jenna reads from her Bible most nights before retiring, particularly from the Book of Psalms. Do you have a favorite book or a scripture
passage that speaks to you?
Jealousy and revenge motivate the villain in this book. Several references in the Bible advise us to take “an eye for an eye.” Yet in the Lord’s prayer, we’re urged to forgive those who hurt us. As Christians, can we live our lives both ways?
Regardless of Jenna and Aunt Molly’s trust in him, Beau—in the role of protector—refuses to stay in the bed-and-breakfast with Jenna while Aunt Molly’s away for a few days. He’s been the brunt of gossip and doesn’t want Jenna touched by it. Considering that Beau and Jenna would’ve been sleeping on different floors, was he being too chivalrous? Or must we always avoid the appearance of wrongdoing?
Aunt Molly tells Beau and Jenna that her late husband’s philosophy regarding gossips was simple. If they were talking about him, they were leaving someone else alone. Is that realistic?
At the end of the book when Jenna prays that God will spare her life, she says the Lord’s Prayer and finds it difficult to say four words. What are they? Has it ever been hard for you to say those words?
ISBN: 9781459226630
Copyright © 2012 by Edie Hanes
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