Ashley looked up at Christopher, bewilderment across her features. They needed to talk. There was so much they needed to discuss. He could see it in Ashley’s eyes that she felt the same way about him as Christopher did about her.
Medics rushed into the room. “We need to check you all over for injuries,” one of them said.
They’d have to put off a conversation they should have had nearly a decade ago. But this time he wasn’t going to let Ashley slip away from him again.
* * *
They reached another safe house, this one a cozy bungalow located on a lake in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Ashley had helped David get ready for bed, read him a bedtime story, and then tucked him into bed.
Her throat ached as she walked into the living room. Christopher stoked the fire. He rose to his feet when he spotted her.
She rubbed her hands on her jeans. They’d had a lot of tough conversations already. But this one required not only owning up to the past but presenting an offer for the future.
She hooked a hair behind her ear as she reached him. “Can I talk to you a minute, Christopher?”
His gaze was steady on hers...steady and warm. “Of course.”
A shiver raced through her when she heard the huskiness in his voice. She pointed to the couch. “We should sit.”
They sat across from each other, close enough that their knees touched.
She rubbed her hands on her jeans again as her gaze reached up to meet his. “Look, I know we’ve been through a lot. I know you’re angry with me, and I deserve it. I should have pushed through my emotions and realized that telling you about David was the right thing. Sometimes it’s easier to realize these things in retrospect.”
“That’s true for all of us, Ashley.”
She rested her hand on his knee. “I just wanted to say that I understand. Finally. I talked to Denton and after our conversation it just clicked in my mind, and I understand now why you had to go to Afghanistan.”
“You do?” Light gleamed in his eyes.
She nodded, her emotions squeezing her. “I feel like I was actually the one being selfish throughout the whole thing. I can see that now.”
His hand covered hers. “That’s not true. It was an agonizing decision, no matter how you looked at it. There were no real winners.”
“Except maybe the world.” She offered a small smile.
Christopher gave her one in return. It quickly disappeared, replaced with a firm-set jaw and serious eyes. “I’d like to think the world is a better place, that my sacrifices weren’t for nothing.”
“No, the world is a better place.”
He scooted closer. “I wish you didn’t have to get hurt in the process.” He cupped her cheek with one hand. “Ashley, you’ve always been the only one for me. No one else has even remotely caught my eye. My heart’s always been with you.”
Her spirit seemed to breathe with new life, lifting with hope inside her. “Even as mad as I was, I’ve always loved you, Christopher. Always.”
His other arm snaked around her waist and he pulled her close. Their lips met, sweetly, tenderly.
After the heartbreak of the past week, Ashley realized one thing: all things do work together for the good of those who love Christ. Sometimes it just might take years to realize it, though.
EPILOGUE
Ashley straightened the white slacks and snow-white sweater she wore. It wasn’t exactly a wedding dress, but there would be time for a big wedding later—if that’s what she and Christopher decided on. Really, the wedding was so unimportant to her. It was the marriage that mattered.
Instead of planning and waiting for a future date, she and Christopher had decided to get married in a small ceremony at the Eyes’ headquarters. They’d had eight long years of being apart. Neither wanted to waste any more time.
In five minutes, it would be the New Year and they would officially become husband and wife. Mr. and Mrs. Christopher Jordan. It had a nice ring to it. It always had.
She stood before a chaplain with a small audience gathered around her in the massive lobby area at Eyes. David was at her side, holding their rings, and looking handsome in some khakis, an olive-green sweater and a Navy ball cap that Christopher had given him. The boy hadn’t wanted to take it off.
The two of them bonded quickly, and David already looked up at Christopher with a glimmer of admiration in his eyes. Christopher had told his son stories—happy, adventurous ones—about being a SEAL, about training, about toughening up. David held on to each word and asked questions. They’d talked about fishing and hiking and playing football.
Josh, in the meantime, had been sent into hiding for a while, at least until some of this storm passed. He knew too much, had seen too much. He’d asked Ashley and Christopher if they’d watch out for David. He’d told them he’d had moments of clarity while in captivity, and that’s why he’d told David that Ashley was really his mom. David had taken it all in stride, something that Ashley was immensely thankful for.
They hadn’t yet told him that Christopher was his real daddy, but they would with time. When the right moment came, they’d know it. They didn’t want to give the boy too much to handle at once.
Christopher stood in front of her, wearing jeans and a Kelly-green sweater that made his eyes pop. A fire blazed in the background. The Christmas tree stood in the corner still, and some of Christopher’s friends—and the very people who’d kept them both alive during this whole ordeal—sat around them.
Ashley hardly saw anyone except for Christopher and David. Her soon-to-be husband squeezed her hands, never taking his eyes off her since the start of the ceremony. She was so glad that their paths had led them back to each other. She praised God for truly working all things together for their good.
“Ashley, do you take this man, Christopher Jordan, to be your lawfully wedded husband?” the chaplain asked. “To have and to hold from this day forward.”
Ashley’s heart glowed with warmth as she looked up at Christopher. This was the moment she’d been dreaming about for so long. It almost seemed surreal, as if she’d wake up and he’d be gone. He squeezed her hands again, as if reading her thoughts, and reminding her that this was no dream.
She smiled. “I do.”
“Christopher, do you take this woman, Ashley Wilson, to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
“You better believe it.” The look in his eyes was pure affection, unmasked and unbridled and out there for everyone to see.
“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may—” the chaplain glanced at his watch and paused for a second before looking up with a grin “—kiss the bride.”
Just as Christopher’s lips came down on hers, balloons and confetti rained down on them from above.
“Happy New Year!” everyone around them yelled.
Laughing, they stepped back. Ashley put her arm around David’s shoulders and pulled him into a group hug with Christopher as everyone cheered.
Her family. Together at last.
It truly was going to be a happy new year.
A happy lifetime for that matter, as long as Christopher and David were by her side.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from HOLIDAY HERO by Shirlee McCoy.
Dear Reader,
As I was listening to a radio interview with a former Navy SEAL not long ago, I found myself fascinated with what he had to say. He talked about how hard it was to be a Navy SEAL and to have a family, saying that it was extremely difficult to be committed to both.
That interview made me start thinking about the sacrifices our military personnel make, especially those who are in the Special Forces. Long deployments, stress from the battlefield and trouble adjusting to life back at home are only a few of the challenges these families face. Not
long after listening to that interview, this book was born.
I hope you enjoyed Ashley and Christopher’s story, along with the reminder that God can work everything—even our mistakes—together for our good.
Christy Barritt
Questions for Discussion
Ashley likes having a certain amount of control in her life, but she finds everything spiraling out of control at the start of this book. What do you do when life starts going in a different direction than you originally planned? Do you act in faith or fear?
Ashley and Christopher both have traumatic things that have happened in their past that affect them today. Do you have anything like this in your life? How did you overcome it?
Ashley regrets her decision not to tell Christopher about David. Each of us lives with regrets—some big, some small. How can we put regrets into perspective?
What’s your biggest regret? How have you learned from it? Is there anything you can do to make things right?
Ashley let a fair amount of bitterness build up after her breakup with Christopher, and she even let it cloud her judgment on more than one occasion. Have you ever had a time in your life when bitterness overcame you? How did you heal from the emotion?
What causes bitterness to form in our lives? How can we avoid it?
Ashley has a breakthrough moment about Christopher after she talks to Denton. Have you had any breakthrough moments where you gained new perspective?
Sometimes a new perspective can be a game changer. Sometimes it can be as simple as trying to view someone else through God’s eyes instead of our own, or operating on the “glass half full” notion. Are there any “perspectives” you need to change in your daily life?
John 14:27 says, Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid. Do you struggle with a troubled, fearful heart?
What are some simple steps we can take to overcome the obstacles in our lives that keep us from living fully? How can we be surrounded by God’s peace?
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.
Enjoy four new stories from Love Inspired Suspense every month!
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ONE
“Deck the halls with boughs of holly. Fa-la-la-la. La-la-la-la-laaaaaa,” Emma Fairchild sang as she dipped a roller into a paint pan and swiped it over the walls of her newest project.
Arianna’s Diner. Soon to be Mrs. Daphne’s Diner. Named for Emma’s great-aunt, Bea Daphne.
“’Tis the season to be jolly,” she continued even though she wasn’t at all jolly.
For Bea’s sake, she’d been faking happiness for the past two months. She thought she’d been doing a pretty good job of it. But with Christmas approaching and work on the diner intensifying, she was exhausted, grumpy and desperate to be back in Boston and away from the city she’d always hated.
Sagebrush, Texas. Home of every bad dream she’d ever had, birthplace of every bad memory.
Well, not exactly every one.
Boston hadn’t exactly been good to her in the week before she’d left to care for Bea.
She scowled, refusing to think of her breakup as anything other than fortunate. She might not be happy to be in Sagebrush, but she was thrilled to be done with her no good ex-boyfriend, Camden Maxwell.
Sure, you are, her heart whispered.
She ignored it, rolling more paint on the wall and stepping back to view her progress. Not bad. She should have been pleased. Opening a restaurant had always been part of her life plan. The problem was, she’d never ever planned to do it in Sagebrush. That made it a little difficult to be happy about all the sweat equity she was pouring into the place. Not to mention the money.
“Get over yourself, Em,” she hissed, as irritated with herself as she was with the situation. It was no one’s fault that Bea’s health was declining or that her memory was going. She had no kids. No family aside from Emma. She needed someone, and Emma was going to be there for her. Even if that meant living in Sagebrush permanently.
Or until Bea didn’t need her any longer.
The doctor had said Emma’s great-aunt would probably be around for five or ten more years. Emma was hoping for twenty. She loved Bea more than she’d ever hated Sagebrush. Loved her so much that she was going to open the diner and commit to running it for as long as Bea was around. When she was gone, Emma would sell the place and move on to a new town and a new project.
She sighed and swiped paint on a spot that she’d missed.
God was in control. He had a perfect plan. Unfortunately, it wasn’t anything close to what Emma’s perfect plan had been. Another couple of years working as sous-chef at one of Boston’s premier restaurants, marriage, a house and, finally, a restaurant of her own. She’d made a list. She’d checked it twice. She’d gone over details and facts and figures. She’d shown all of it to Camden because he was the one she was supposed to do everything with.
“I’m such an idiot,” she muttered as she carried the paint pan and roller into the kitchen.
She dropped the pan into the deep stainless-steel sink and wrapped the roller in plastic. Tomorrow she’d paint a second coat in the dining area and roll fresh paint onto the kitchen walls. Right now she really needed to get home. She glanced at her watch.
Nearly eleven.
She hadn’t realized it was so late. Bea would be worried and probably hungry. She’d been having trouble remembering to eat.
Emma turned off the light in the dining room, plunging the diner into darkness. Wide windows looked out onto a sidewalk and street that bustled with life during the day. Both were silent and empty. A few business owners had hung Christmas lights in the windows of their shops. Others had placed wreaths on doors or Christmas decorations in large display windows.
It should have been cheerful, but it just made Emma feel sad and lonely. Camden had been planning to give her an engagement ring on Christmas Eve. He’d told her that when he’d given her an ultimatum. Either stay in Boston with him or travel to Texas to take care of her aunt. She couldn’t have both, because he wasn’t the kind of guy who wanted a long-distance relationship.
She’d heard the truth in his words—he just hadn’t really wanted her. Not enough to make things work while she took care of Bea.
Jerk.
She grabbed her purse and jacket from the office. A small window looked into the back parking lot. Empty but for her car. One day it would be full of cars and people. She hoped. Prayed.
There was no plan B.
She flicked off the office light and the kitchen light. The entire diner was suddenly dark and silent. Eerie, really.
No. Not eerie. Just exactly the way a restaurant was supposed to feel when it was closed. The problem was, she’d been listening to too many people saying too many things about the murder of the diner’s former owner. People seemed to think Arianna’s death had somehow tainted the building. Ludicrous! That was what Emma thought, but all the talk had
kept the building from selling. That had worked out for Emma. She’d purchased the property for well below market value. Hopefully, the notoriety that went with the place would bring in crowds rather than keeping them away.
She opened the back door, fumbling in her purse for the key. A soft rustling sound broke the silence, a whisper of fabric on air, a shift in the darkness to her right. She swung toward it, her heart stuttering as a black figure lunged from the shadows.
She screamed, sprinting toward the car, her purse falling from her hands.
Faster! her mind screamed, but her feet seemed to be moving in slow motion, the air behind her so charged with energy that she knew he was right there. A step away. Ready to....
An arm wrapped around her waist. A palm slapped over her mouth. She couldn’t scream. Could barely breathe.
God, help me!
“Where is it?” her captor growled, his hand tightening over her mouth, his grip so hard her teeth ground into her lips. She bucked, slamming her head into his chin.
He cursed, forcing her, one step after another, back into the diner. He shoved her into the kitchen, and she crashed into the center island prep area, pain shooting through her ribs. Then he was on her again. One hand on her throat, the other pressing her harder against the cold metal counter.
“I said, where is it?”
“Where is what?” she gasped, her fear so real, so sharp that she could feel nothing else, think of nothing else.
“The money!” he snarled.
She had three dollars in her purse. Maybe another dollar worth of change. She tried to tell him that, but he dragged her around, slapped her so hard she saw stars.
He was going to kill her. Simple as that. But she didn’t want to die. She swung her fist, connecting with a hard jaw. She felt a second of victory before he hit her again, this time with enough force to send her flying backward. She landed hard, her head smashing into the floor. Darkness edged in, but she scrambled to her feet, tried to run. He snagged the back of her hair, yanking so hard her eyes teared.
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