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He opened his mouth. “I don’t?—”
“And I don’t mean with Juliet. I mean with the man you were going to be. The doctor who wanted to be a missionary.”
“I don’t... That’s not?—”
She touched his chest, his heart thundering under her fingers. “But it is, Doyle. I don’t know what Juliet saw, but I know what I see. I see a man who broke in half when his fiancée died. You left part of yourself in the lake that night, and you’ve never dealt with losing that.”
“Yes—”
“Let me finish. Your future, your vision, your calling—it all died with Julia and left a hole inside you, and until you deal with that, you won’t have anything to give to...” She sighed. “Anyone else.”
His mouth opened. Closed. “Tia?—”
“Listen.” She pulled her hand away. “I can see when a man is searching for something. And when he tries to tell himself it’s me. But it’s not, Doyle.” Her throat burned. “This has been... Well, you have been more than I imagined. But maybe that’s all this was. A jumpstart—a reminder that there is more. Like you said, the fresh start. It just... it just isn’t the happy ending.” Her eyes filled. “I don’t want to be the Band-Aid or the rebound. I want to be the One. The someone you’ve been waiting for all your life.”
He didn’t move, his expression stricken.
Oh, Doyle.“You taught me how to ask for help, Doyle. And that a little fear is okay because it’s the perfect time for me to watch God show up.” She wiped the tears off her cheek. “But I probably need to learn what it means for God to be sufficient too.”
She reached for the door handle.
“Tia—wait?—”
“Doyle!”
His name lifted from a voice at the gate, and she looked up to see Declan running toward the truck. He stopped at the open window. Glanced at Tia. “Thank God.”
Then, “Doyle, I just got a call from the hospital. Stein is there—and he’s been shot. We need to go.”
She touched Doyle’s hand. “Thanks for not forgetting me.” His eyes widened as she got out. “Go find your brother.”
And then she walked away and didn’t look back.
* * *
Stein felt like he had a hot poker shoved through his body.
Which was why he gasped as he opened his eyes. Cool oxygen poured through his mouth and nose, a strap securing him at the shoulders to a gurney.
Overhead, the sky arched a dark blue.
What—?
He looked over and spotted,wait—“Doyle?” His brother wore a grimy shirt, his beard thick, concern in his blue eyes. “What’s going on?”
Doyle held up a hand and the gurney slowed, and Stein watched as a nurse handed Doyle a bag of IV fluid. She patted Steinbeck on the shoulder. “You’ll be okay.”
Probably not, considering he didn’t have a clue how—wait.“Where’s Phoenix?”
Doyle bent over him. “You’re going to be okay, bro. Nearly lost you there, but they stopped the bleeding. Declan called in a chopper. We’re just waiting for Jake and Aria to join us. Then we’re scooting you over to St. Kitts for surgery.”
“Who’s Jake?”
“One of the rescuers. He got stabbed during the rescue?—”
“What rescue?”
“The kids—never mind. It’s a long story.”