Love Inspired Suspense June 2015 #1

by Margaret Daley

  He paused and grew serious. “I want you, but I don’t want you ever to feel like you don’t have choices in your life.”

  “I do have a choice. I choose you.”

  Colm exhaled and filled his arms with her. He whispered in her ear, “I must be dreaming.”

  “Then I am, too, and I don’t want to wake up.”

  “Then it’s a good thing we’ll own a bed-and-breakfast, aye?”

  “Aye.” She smiled. “A very good thing.”

  “You won’t be sorry, Goldie.”

  “How could I be? You’ve brought me peace, Colm. That’s all I ever wanted. Oh, and I also want a fall wedding right here at The Morning Glory. I want to walk down that beautiful staircase you poured your heart into and made for me with your strong hands. I want—”

  “All right, all right.” Colm pulled Gretchen close into his chest, his arms wrapping around her in a great big hug. “I see you have everything all planned out. Silly me for thinking you might need my help.”

  Gretchen lifted up on her tiptoes. Their lips were close, but it wasn’t a kiss she was looking for. She met him eye to eye and with a look so determined he would never doubt her again, she said, “I’m no fool. I will always take your help.”

  Colm smiled and leaned in, their lips inches apart. Apparently, he was looking for a kiss. He stopped just before they touched and said, “I always knew you were a smart woman. Tabhair póg dom.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “More of your sweet talking?”

  “Aye. The sweetest in all the land, in fact.”

  “What does it mean?”

  “It means,” he said, his eyes watching her lips, “give me a kiss.”

  Gretchen smiled. “I’ll have to remember those words,” she said and gladly gave him what he wanted.

  EPILOGUE

  “You’re sure you’re not mad, Len?” Gretchen stood back as Colm hung the van Gogh over the fireplace where all the guests of The Morning Glory could see it for years to come. Even with the small dent on the corner.

  “Mad? Not at all. We all have our battle scars to prove we fought the good fight, so why shouldn’t the painting? It did well, and now I know for sure that I chose wisely for you to be its owner.”

  Tildy grunted from her place on the couch by the Christmas tree. “You all seem to forget that now I have a vacant wall over my fireplace at the restaurant. What am I supposed to put in that space?” She nudged the thin, frail woman beside her who was Colm’s mother. Emily Griffin gave a small, brief smile but quickly looked down at her folded hands in her lap.

  It took some doing, but Colm had eventually convinced his ma to start her life over on Stepping Stones. Along with Nate and Billy, Gil was doing time in prison. Emily’s now ex-husband was out of her life forever. Yet every time Gretchen looked at the woman, her heart broke. The trauma was still fresh in her. Every now and then, Emily would steal a glance at the sea and Gretchen knew the woman was fighting her battle. All Gretchen could do was love her motherin-law unconditionally and let her know she understood. She would remind Emily that bonds could be broken, but there were also good bonds, ones that reflected relationships based on love and respect and support. Ones that allowed a person to live free. She would tell her motherin-law that was what she wanted to be for her, and Gretchen vowed she would tell her this every day until the woman held her head high and believed it.

  Gretchen turned and realized Colm had caught her looking at his ma. The understanding passed between them, and he offered her a sweet smile of gratitude. Gretchen sighed and walked over to her Irish husband and welcomed his arms around her. She rested her cheek on his chest for a moment before gazing up at him. She felt his strong arms tighten around her, but instead of feeling confined by those arms, she felt the assurance of his presence in her life.

  Gretchen knew that somewhere deep inside he feared she might change her mind someday and choose the solitary life. But Gretchen hoped that tonight she could put his mind at rest, just as he had brought rest to her whole life.

  It had been months since her last asthma attack, and though she still carried her inhaler as a precaution, Gretchen had never breathed easier. No longer did she need to prove to the world that she was smart enough and strong enough to make it on her own, although her plumbing and electrical expertise did come in handy when they turned the attic into their own personal living quarters.

  Colm had worked all summer repairing the fire and water damage. Not even a broken kneecap could stop him. He wanted The Morning Glory to have at least one season of success, and when fall came, the rooms were filled and the breakfast table bustled with impressed guests who quickly booked their spring getaways on Stepping Stones. Gretchen now had “regulars” and looked forward to hanging her no-vacancy sign.

  Of course, without the attic to rent out, income was cut down. To help, Colm opened his own carpentry business and turned the barn into his workshop. Gretchen hadn’t thought too much of the idea until Emily arrived and saw Colm working just as his da had. The woman cried outright, but the smile on her lips told them the sight brought her pure joy. She no longer worried about her son, who had changed from a street fighter into a sweet man. Seeing Colm use his hands to make an honest living was the second gift Emily had received.

  Gretchen couldn’t wait to give the woman her third tonight.

  But first to tell Colm.

  As though he knew she had something to share, he led her away from the crowd of family and friends there to celebrate Christmas Eve.

  Colm stopped in the foyer. “I see the wheels turning in your mind. That could only mean you’re making more plans. I love a woman who knows what she wants, and you know whatever it is, all you have to do is ask. Your wish is my command.”

  Gretchen frowned. “I don’t want to command you. Ever. We’re a team with the same goal, to strive for full restoration together through encouragement and God’s freeing peace inside us.”

  A sheen of unshed tears showed in Colm’s eyes as he reached over and pulled her forehead to his. “You make me feel stronger than any brawl I’ve ever won. It makes me want to give you the world.”

  The room full of people faded into the background of twinkling lights while the Christmas music softly played.

  Gretchen tilted her head. “Not the world, but how about new servants’ quarters?”

  He started and frowned. “You don’t like the attic?”

  “It’s beautiful,” she said quickly to put his mind at ease. “Your handiwork is as smooth as your words. I look forward to growing old with you while you sweet-talk me all day long. It’s just we’ll need more space.”

  “Oh, I see. You’re concerned about not making enough money if we don’t rent the attic suite. Love, I have enough restoration work to last me ten years. Everyone on the island has hired me to work on his home. After seeing ours, they all want to make Stepping Stones stand out as a real classy place for the tourists. So don’t you worry your pretty golden head over it. We’ll also start getting more calls once the show airs next month. It was grand that the new director and host incorporated our old footage with some of their new. He told me they’re saving it for Sweeps Week. That will draw huge ratings for them and give us lots of exposure. So you see, we won’t need the attic to make ends meet. The phone will be ringing off the hook.”

  Gretchen bit her lower lip. This was not going the way she’d planned.

  Colm lifted her hand with the wedding ring on it and kissed it. The shiver he sent up her arm made her whole body tremble and she lost her train of thought. This was really not going the way she had planned. Life with Colm had a way of going off course.

  And as always Gretchen quickly came up with plan B.

  “Mom,” she called over her shoulder while she smiled at Colm. “I think I have an idea of what you can hang over your fireplace.”

  “Well, spill it,” Tildy called back. “I’m all ears.”

  Gretchen took a deep breath and said, “Baby pictures. The first one w
ill be available in seven months.”

  The conversations stilled. Only the music still played.

  A deep chuckle from over by the fireplace broke the silence. Len’s laugh grew louder. “Well, well, well, what are you waiting for, son? Didn’t you hear your wife? You’re going to be a father.”

  Colm’s face drained of all color as he gulped and looked from Len to Gretchen then to each face in the room. Owen and his wife, Miriam, grinned ear to ear, but it was the full smile Colm’s ma wore that seemed to spark his understanding.

  “This is for real? No fooling shenanigans.”

  Tildy hooted and hollered with excitement and jumped to her feet to run to her daughter.

  Colm moved back still in a daze as the women embraced, but Gretchen tightened her hold on his hand that she could feel starting to tremble. Her mother left her arms to make the hugging rounds with the others in the room. “Colm?” Gretchen said. “Are you all right with this?”

  Colm tugged her back into his arms and Gretchen felt his arm muscles bulge as he tightened his hold on her. He buried his face into her hair almost desperately. She sensed the rawness of his emotion in his grasp and new what concerned him.

  “You’re going to be a good father, Colm,” she whispered her assurance into his ear. “And when your child looks at you, he will see his great big, strong da who could take on the world with one fist tied behind his back and the other lending a helping hand.”

  Colm sighed. “I see it, Gretchen. Thank you, love. It’s going to be all right.” He lifted his head and a smile quickly grew. He looked around the room with blatant excitement. “Did you hear? I’m going to be a da! A new home with my beautiful wife, a new job on a wonderful island, and now a new life created by God. When He says He makes all things new, He means it.”

  Len said, “‘Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature, the old things passed away. Behold, new things have come.’ And speaking of old things.” He worked to stand up.

  “Len,” Gretchen warned, “I told you before I don’t want to hear you talking about yourself like that.”

  Len cackled as he gained his feet slowly. “Not to worry, Gretchen. I’m not going anywhere tonight. In fact, I’ve got a new baby to look forward to bouncing on my knee, just as I did his mother.”

  “Wait, did you say ‘he’?” Colm jumped in. “Is it a boy? A boy!”

  “Whoa, slow down there, Mr. McCrae.” Gretchen tugged Colm back to the threshold. “It’s way too early to be painting the room blue.”

  “Blue. I like that. Just like his ma’s eyes.”

  “And his da’s.”

  Colm smiled down at her, but Gretchen indicated with her eyes where some mistletoe hung. One look up and he took his cue.

  “Did I ever tell you what my favorite part of the show was?” he asked.

  “No. What was it?”

  He leaned down, a breath away from her lips. “The part where I would get to say, ‘The restoration is complete. But this is not the end of the story.’”

  And as was his charming way, even without the camera on him, Colm left Gretchen and all the viewers wanting more.

  *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from COVERT JUSTICE by Lynn Huggins Blackburn

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for joining me on Stepping Stones Island, where the lobster traps are always full and romance awaits even the hardest of hearts. Not that you can blame Gretchen Bauer for guarding her heart so intensely. With the experience she had of someone abusing her goodness, it’s only natural to grow wary of letting it happen again—especially with someone who has such a colorful past as Colm McCrae.

  And when I say colorful, I mean lots of black and blue. Colm was a new creation in Christ, but he still fought against the anger that once controlled him. As long as it held more power than his belief in God’s forgiveness, it would win and keep him down. If it wasn’t his past he was fighting, it was the danger to Gretchen that lurked on the island. Colm had his hands full, for sure. At the same time he had a bed-and-breakfast to restore and a heart to win. What a guy!

  Thank you for reading Permanent Vacancy! I love hearing from readers. Please feel free to contact me to share your thoughts. You can visit my website, www.KatyLeeBooks.com, or email me at KatyLee@KatyLeeBooks.com. If you don’t have internet access, you can write to me c/o Love Inspired Books, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279.

  Katy Lee

  http://www.harlequin.com/harlequinexperience

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired Suspense story.

  You enjoy a dash of danger. Love Inspired Suspense stories feature strong heroes and heroines whose faith is central in solving mysteries and saving lives.

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  ONE

  Blake Harrison pulled the hood of his jacket over his head and sprinted through the deluge. Nothing like a cold November downpour to cap off an exhausting week.

  He slid into the seat of his BMW and pushed the hood away from his face. Dealing with multiple off-quality batches had kept him late every night this week.

  If they didn’t get a handle on their production issues soon, they ran a serious risk of missing shipments and losing customers. Losing customers meant losing jobs and Harrison Plastics International hadn’t laid off an employee in sixty-three years. He didn’t want to be the first Harrison in three generations to break faith with their employees. Their friends.

  He shook off the gloominess. They’d had issues before and had overcome them without having to resort to personnel cuts. He had confidence in his engineering team. They’d get things working again. He’d be able to relax after he had a decent meal, a story time with his little Maggie-moo and a full eight-hour visit with his pillow.

  He pulled out of the HPI parking lot and began the half-mile drive to his home. The rain made it hard to see the lines on the pavement and he kept his speed low as he entered the sharp curve marking the halfway point to his driveway.

  Headlights coming up way too fast flashed in his rearview mirror. Didn’t that guy have the good sense to slow down? At least he wouldn’t have to deal with him on his tail for long.

  Without warning, the headlights grew larger in his mirror and a sudden impact threw him forward before the seat belt slammed him back into his seat. He tried to steer as the BMW skidded across the road but lost control on the wet pavement and crashed into the opposite ditch, tail-first.

  He didn’t know how long he sat there, hands clenched around the wheel. As his breathing slowed, he took a quick inventory. He could move his arms and legs. His neck and back would be killing him tomorrow, but he didn’t think he’d suffered any major damage. He breathed a prayer of thanksgiving as he groped around in the seat for his cell phone to call for a tow truck.

  Before he could find it, the passenger-side door flew open. He blinked in the brightness from the dome lights and tried to focus on the dark shape leaning into his car. He caught a glimpse of big green eyes filled with concern before a slender finger stretched out and extinguished the light.

  “Can you move?” He could barely make out the words over the pounding rain. A small hand gripped his arm. “Blake? You have to focus.”

  What on earth?

  She moved closer and unbuckled his seat belt. “Can you move?”

  “Yes. What are you—”

  “Then move!” She reached around the steering wheel, pushed open the driver’s-side door and shoved him out into the downpour. He slipped on the bank and had just gotten his footing when she grabbed his hand. “Let’s go. We have to get out of here.”

  “Hey.” He shook her off. “I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’
t know you. I have to find my phone and—”

  “Do you have a death wish?”

  “What?”

  “They’re turning around. We have to get away from the car.”

  Turning around? The meaning of her words soaked in. They’d hit him on purpose?

  “This way.” When her hand clasped his, he allowed her to pull him away from the wreckage and up the bank. As they dove into the trees, headlights flashed around the curve and the air filled with the unmistakable sound of metal dragging across asphalt.

  He turned and watched in horror as a massive truck sped away from the mangled remains of his car.

  “—close.” The mystery woman had her phone to her ear. “Send an ambulance.”

  “I don’t need an ambulance,” he said. “I need answers.” Why would anyone do this? He didn’t have any enemies. Well, a few, but none that would run him off the road and try to kill him. “Who are you?”

  The sound of sirens pierced the air and she backed away. “Who I am doesn’t matter. In fact, it would be best if you don’t mention me to the authorities at all.”

  She disappeared into the woods faster than he would have thought possible. He could try to follow her, but in the dark and rain, he wouldn’t have a clue which direction she’d gone. He stared at the spot where she’d disappeared and called out, “Thank you,” before sliding back down the bank as the first police car pulled to the side, lights flashing blue and eerie in the gloom.

  The next few hours passed in a haze of images. Police and ambulance lights illuminating the surrounding forest. The officer telling him an anonymous caller had reported the accident. His dad standing beside the remains of the car, shaking his head in disbelief. The smell of gasoline mixed with the scent of torn earth. The EMTs insisting he ride to the hospital in the ambulance. His sister, Caroline, clad in hot pink rain boots and jacket, tears streaming down her face when she saw him in the emergency room. His mother’s relieved voice when he spoke to her and his daughter, Maggie, assuring them he’d be home soon.