Page 22 of I’ll Be There (Montana Fire #4)

“Watch his back, Micah,” she’d said softly.

He’d nodded. Squeezed her hand, and left.

So much for sleeping.

Despite her worry for Conner, however, the remembered smells and sounds of the hospital, the sense of watchers, and her desperate fatigue made her sink into a slumber she hadn’t experienced in weeks.

She woke, her hives dissipated, her IV bag dry, and the sun creasing the blinds.

Tomorrow she married Conner Young.

But today, she had to make sure he wasn’t locked up in the county jail. That thought made her call the nurse, who came in, checked her IV bag, and pulled out her line. “Wait here until the doctor can discharge you,” she said.

“I’m fine,” Liza said and reached for her clothes.

Mostly, she was, and would be even better when she talked to Conner.

Kyle was still on duty when she stepped into the lobby of the Deep Haven police station.

“Are you okay?” he asked as she waved to him from the information desk, through the glass. He buzzed her in, and she came through to his desk. “Is he still here?”

“Just asked him about breakfast,” Kyle said. “He’s a little grumpy.”

“Is he... did he commit a crime?” She reached out for a chair, not sure she was ready for the answer.

Kyle held a cup of coffee, now leaned against his desk. “I think you need to talk to him about that. But for now, we have enough to hold him...” He stared at his coffee.

“What aren’t you telling me, Kyle? Should I be calling off this wedding?”

“Not yet.” His expression was hooded when he met her eyes. “You go back and talk to him, okay?”

He rose and led her back to the holding cells, just three of them. Conner lay on a bunk, staring at the ceiling, looking strung out, red-eyed. “Babe,” he said, sitting up as she came in. “How are you feeling?”

“Not so great, looking at you.” She glanced at Kyle. “Let me in there.”

Kyle raised his chin. “Liza—”

“This is not a hardened criminal. This is the man I love. Let. Me. In .”

Kyle pursed his lips, but in a moment, Liza found herself walking into the moderately smelly arms of her fiancé.

Conner pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m okay.”

“Good. Because I’m mildly freaking out here.

” She wrapped her arms around his waist, leaned against the firmness of his chest, aware of his heartbeat against her ear.

Solid, real. She took a moment to press her lips to the well of his neck, breathing in the male fragrance of his skin. Then she stepped away.

Caught his hands. Met his eyes. “Start at the beginning.”

He actually looked pained, as if she’d put her fist into the middle of his chest. “I should have told you from the beginning.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Okay, so...” He blew out a breath. “Sit down.”

The story he told her started in a McDonald’s, traveled to the Evergreen resort, then up to Fort William, included a high-speed chase, a hospital visit, an eerie voicemail— “It was really your brother?”

A solemn nod, so much emotion in his eyes she took his hands, squeezed.

Then, his story led her back to Deep Haven, and—

“I think P.T. Blankenship is headed up here. And I don’t know why exactly he’s looking for me but...it’s my chance to get answers, Liza.”

She touched his cheek, running her fingers into his beard. “Of course it is. And you should.”

He sighed, then caught her hand. “I’m not sure what I was thinking, but...I just so wanted this weekend to be perfect for you. No drama. And now I’ve brought a potential murderer into town, just in time for our wedding.”

“It was hardly your fault.” She squeezed his hand. “You’ll get answers. And then it’ll be over.”

Conner took a breath. “Remember I told you that the last time I saw my brother, we fought?”

She nodded.

“He worried about me—told me that he didn’t need another family member dying.

And I told him the same thing. But neither one of us were willing to give up our careers.

” He cupped her face. “I’m not that guy anymore, Liza.

I’ve been sitting here all night thinking about it, and if you need me to walk away from smoke jumping—”

“What—no!”

He met her eyes. “Yes. I love what I do but...I love you more.”

“And what about your team? Conner—the reason I love you is that you show up. For everyone.”

“Now I get to show up for you.” He kissed her then, something thorough and perfect, and stole her argument.

And, oh, she wanted to let her heart sing, but...not like this.

“Ahem,” Kyle said, now standing outside the cell.

“Go away, Hueston,” Conner growled, leaning back.

“What should I do?” she whispered.

“Stay out of the way. Go somewhere safe. The Christiansens’, maybe.”

“Okay. But...what about you? I mean—how long are you going to be...here?” She glanced at Kyle. “Do I cancel the rehearsal dinner?”

“No.” Conner turned her back to himself. “Please, no. This will be over soon. Micah is still tracking him—and has the shooter’s phone, so—”

“So Micah is pretending he’s you?”

“No, but...we have a plan. And it’s going to work. Then, I’m all yours.”

Sweet words, but, “I want you to be all mine. But I also want this to be over for you. So get answers, but please, Conner, be careful, too.”

The sun had already crested the horizon, bright and bold into the day as Liza headed down to World’s Best Donuts.

The least she could do was buy Conner a donut.

Maybe even one for Kyle. Seagulls strolled the beach, hunting for morsels, a few complaining overhead.

No line outside the tiny red-and-white building, and she ordered three glazed raised and a dozen powdered sugar donuts for the Christiansen horde.

Top of today’s list—a reception venue.

No, actually. Top of today’s list...prayer. Because her guests could go eat donuts on the long pier of the Coast Guard as long as she got to marry Conner Young.

She headed out to a picnic table situated on the beach overlooking the stony harbor to the east. A few children played on the ragged boulders, threw stones into the water, their parents eating their own early-morning donuts, wax papers flapping in their hands.

Not far away, a young couple leaned against the safety railing that overlooked a small cliff. And seated on another rock, a man in a blue T-shirt, black sunglasses, a white baseball cap over short brown hair, a hint of whiskers on his chin, lifted his face to the sun.

He looked like he should have a dog somewhere, chasing a stick.

Liza set her bag of donuts and the box on the table, sat down, the words of Lamentations fixed in her head.

Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail.

They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.

I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.” The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.

Maybe she was speaking aloud, because the man in the baseball cap got up, glanced her direction. She met his look with a smile, and he nodded.

Lord, I don’t know what is going on with Conner. Or this man who is looking for him—but You do. I want to have faith in You and Your goodness. I want to believe that in our broken places You reach out and pull us free. Save us. She traced the scars on her hand.

Pastor Dan’s words swam behind her thoughts. Life is threatening because you no longer understand what God’s love truly looks like. When your heart’s desire is the will of the Lord, above everything else, then life loses its threat, because His love will carry us through every situation.

She took a breath. Stared out at the lake, the rhythm of the waves, so blue against a cloudless sky.

I do want to understand it. Or even, if I don’t understand.

..to trust it. To raise my Ebenezer. And to desire Your will, above everything else.

I don’t want my fear to keep Conner from doing what he loves.

She touched her lips, Conner’s kiss lingering. Now I get to show up for you.

How much she loved a man willing to sacrifice his dreams for her. Maybe it was time for her to do the same.

She closed her eyes. Protect us all this day, Father, because of Your great love for us.

“Is this seat taken?”

She opened her eyes to see a man—early forties maybe, wearing a gray Life Is Good T-shirt, a pair of cargo shorts—holding a World’s Best bag and gesturing to the bench across from her.

He had blue eyes, something about them reaching out, tugging at her.

Sandy brown hair, and looked like he might be a hiker, with wide shoulders, a lean, toned body.

“No—go ahead,” she said. “I was just leaving.”

“And miss this gorgeous view?” He sat and opened his bag. Dug his cell phone out and set it next to the bag.

“It is gorgeous,” she said. “I like to come down here in the mornings. Sometimes I sit on the beach in the harbor and paint.”

He pulled out a raised sugar donut. “Sin in a bag, but I’m on vacation, right?”

A hint of gray touched his temples, a few specks in his beard, a vacation growth on his face.

“Yeah.”

“Are you on vacation, too?” he asked, and took a bite of his donut.

“I’m...actually, I live here.”

“Really?” Sugar sprinkled the napkin he held beneath his chin. “So, I’m just here for the day. Where are the best places to visit?”

“Oh, well...if you like hiking...you could start with the Devil’s Kettle. It’s a waterfall that seems to make things disappear.”

The man took another bite of his donut. “Cool. I’m all about making things disappear.”