Page 47 of Secret Hope (Hope Landing: New Recruits #5)

Hope Landing: Three months later:

Tailwinds hadn't changed since Kenji's world imploded—same comfortable booths, same outstanding coffee that José somehow made taste even better than it should, same view of Knight Tactical headquarters through frost-edged windows.

José still worked the grill with the focused intensity of a man who believed the perfect Denver omelet could solve most of life's problems—and given how good his omelets were, he might be right. What had changed was Kenji.

No shaking hands wrapped around the ceramic mug. No constant calculation of odds and angles. No desperate need to find action, any action, to fill the void inside.

Eighty-seven days without a bet. But who was counting?

"Okay, so what about this," Spencer said, adjusting his collar for the hundredth time. "G'day, Sophia. Fancy seeing you here. Too much?"

"Too Australian," Kenji replied, checking his watch again. The commuter flight from Sacramento was due in twelve minutes. Twelve minutes until he saw Cassidy in person for the first time in two weeks—her longest absence since she'd started moving her base of operations to Hope Landing.

"But she's Australian. I thought she'd appreciate?—"

"Spence. Just be yourself."

"Myself is the problem." Spencer slumped dramatically. "Myself owns sixteen different gaming consoles and once spent three days trying to teach my pet fish to recognize patterns."

"Did it work?"

"Totally. Turns out goldfish are smarter than—not the point." Spencer straightened again. "The point is Sophia's brilliant and sophisticated and basically running a multi-million dollar security operation, and I'm still the guy who has no real job. I mean, not that I need one but… You get it."

Kenji hid his smile behind his coffee mug.

Three months had transformed Spencer from comic relief to something approaching a functional adult.

His trust fund had yeilded seed money for Haven House's expansion, his enthusiasm channeled into board meetings and strategic planning.

He was still Spencer—still earnest and awkward and prone to oversharing—but now with purpose.

"She agreed to move here," Kenji pointed out. "That has to mean something."

"She agreed to move here for the job. Director of Security Operations for Haven House International. She's basically a superhero."

The hero worship in Spencer's voice was painful to hear. Kenji knew that particular ache—the certainty that someone was too good for you. Too whole. Too extraordinary.

He'd felt it every time Cassidy's face appeared on their video calls, every weekend she'd flown in despite tournament obligations, every decision she'd made that prioritized them over her career.

His fingers found the ring box in his pocket, the velvet worn smooth from three days of constant touching.

Was it too soon? He only had three months of sobriety. Still in therapy twice a week. Still fighting the urge every time he passed a deck of cards.

But another voice—quieter, steadier, the one that had emerged during treatment—reminded him that waiting for perfect would mean waiting forever. And Cassidy had already proven she didn't need perfect. She needed real.

"There it is!" Spencer shot to his feet, pointing at the small plane fighting through snow flurries toward the runway. "Do I have coffee breath? I have coffee breath."

"You're fine," Kenji assured him, though his own heart rate had kicked up several notches. Through the windows, he watched the commuter plane taxiing past Knight Tactical's hangar, the company logo visible even through the weather. Home. The word had taken on new meaning these past months.

"Bathroom," Spencer announced. "Need to... bathroom."

He fled, leaving Kenji alone with his anticipation.

The terminal's arrivals door was just down the corridor—he could already hear the mechanical sounds of the jet bridge extending.

In minutes, she'd walk through that door.

The woman who'd seen him at his absolute worst and somehow decided he was worth rebuilding a life around.

The door opened.

Cassidy emerged first, and despite ninety-six hours of separation, despite three months of regular contact, the sight of her still hit him like a physical force.

Winter had come to Hope Landing, and she'd adapted—wool coat he'd helped her pick out, boots suitable for mountain weather, cheeks pink from the cold.

But the smile that lit up her face when she spotted him? Pure California sunshine.

They met halfway, hugging hard. She smelled like airplane air and the lavender lotion she always used, familiar and grounding.

"Miss me?" she murmured against his shoulder.

"Always."

When they separated, her eyes were bright with excitement.

"Wait until you hear about the contractor meeting. We can break ground in April, twelve beds to start with room for expansion. The architect thinks we can add a vocational training wing by year two if the fundraising goes well?—"

"Breathe," he said, laughing. This was new too—Cassidy Reynolds, the woman who'd calculated every angle, now rushing headlong into dreams and plans.

"Sorry. I'm just... it's really happening. The Hope Landing branch. Everything we talked about."

"Where's Spencer?" Sophia's voice carried from behind them—professional, contained, but with something softer underneath. The former Interpol analyst had taken her blown cover and transformed it into something new, just like all of them.

"Bathroom," Kenji said. "Panicking."

"Of course he is." But Sophia was almost smiling.

Spencer emerged from the restroom like he'd been shot from a cannon, skidding slightly on the polished floor. "Sophia. Hi. You're here. In Hope Landing. Which you knew because you were on the plane, but?—"

"Hello, Spencer." Sophia's professional mask cracked slightly. "How's the board meeting preparation going?"

"Great. Good." He managed to stop bouncing long enough to reach for her bags. "Can I... these look heavy."

"I can manage?—"

"Please?" The naked hope in Spencer's voice would have been painful if Sophia hadn't softened visibly.

"All right. Thank you."

Kenji caught Cassidy's eye as Spencer practically floated toward baggage claim with Sophia's carry-on.

Three months had changed everything. Spencer growing into himself. Sophia finding purpose beyond the career she'd lost. Cassidy choosing love over lifestyle.

And him... eighty-seven days sober and counting.

Weekly GA meetings where admitting powerlessness had become a source of strength.

Therapy sessions that had stopped being about managing addiction and started being about building a life worth staying sober for.

Sunday services with the team where faith meant gratitude instead of bargaining.

"I can't believe this is home now," Cassidy said softly, gazing out at the snow-covered mountains surrounding Hope Landing. The afternoon light painted everything in shades of silver and gold, the Knight Tactical building standing solid and permanent against the wilderness.

"Regrets?" he asked, though her radiant expression already gave him the answer.

"Not one. This view never gets old. Vegas was all artificial lights, manufactured excitement." She leaned into him slightly. "This... this is real."

The ring box in his pocket seemed to pulse with possibility. He'd planned to wait until lunch, maybe take her aside after dessert, make it perfect. But standing here in the terminal, watching her face light up at the sight of mountains and snow and home...

"Speaking of real," he said, his voice rougher than intended. "I need to talk to you about something."

Concern flickered across her features. "Is everything okay? Did something happen with?—"

"No, nothing bad." He guided her toward the quieter gate area, away from Tailwinds' lunch crowd. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Hope Landing spread out like a promise—the small town nested in its valley, Knight Tactical's complex, the mountains standing guard over all of it.

"Three months ago, you walked into this terminal for your first visit," he began, his hand finding hers. "I was terrified you'd take one look at small-town life and run back to civilization."

"Best decision I ever made," she said simply.

"You've changed everything. Your whole life. For us." He turned to face her fully, drinking in the certainty in her green eyes. "You've done all the heavy lifting while I've been in treatment, in therapy, figuring out how to be a functional human being."

"Kenji—"

"Let me finish." He pulled out the ring box, and her breath caught. "This isn't an engagement ring. We both know it's too soon for that. But it's a promise."

His hands were steady as he opened the box, revealing the simple silver band with its small emerald—her birthstone.

"A promise that I'm all in. That I'll keep doing the work—recovery, therapy, faith. A promise that when we're both ready, really ready, I want to build a life with you."

He took a breath, the words he'd rehearsed disappearing in favor of simple truth. "I love you, Cassidy. Have since you offered me your business card in that resort hallway when I was at my worst. But more than that, I respect you. And I want to be worthy of everything you've done to be here."

She was crying now, quiet tears that she didn't try to hide. "You already are."

"So will you?" He lifted the ring from its velvet bed. "Will you wear this? Will you... have me?"

Everything stopped. The distant sound of planes, the murmur from Tailwinds, even the falling snow visible through the windows—all of it suspended in amber while Cassidy stared at the simple silver band with its perfect green stone.

Three months of careful steps, of weekend visits, of reshaping entire lives, and it all led to this moment that felt both inevitable and impossibly surprising.

Her poker face—that carefully constructed mask that had won her millions—crumbled completely, leaving her naked with wonder.

Her hand rose instinctively to the cross at her throat, the familiar weight of it grounding her even as her heart soared. Thank You, she prayed silently. Thank You for working through our broken pieces to create something beautiful.

"Kenji Marshall," Cassidy said, voice steady despite the tears streaming down her face. "You beautiful, complicated, brave man. Yes. Yes to the promise. Yes to the future. Yes to you."

She watched his hands shake—not from withdrawal but from pure emotion—as he slid the ring onto her finger. The silver band with its small emerald fit perfectly, catching the afternoon light streaming through the terminal windows.

Real and solid and theirs.

God's plans were bigger than any calculation. More perfect than any strategy.

Sometimes you just had to stop planning and start living, trusting that the One who'd brought you through the storm knew exactly where you were meant to be.

Kenji and the rest of the crew will be back in STOLEN HOPE, helping Izzy battle for her reputation…and her young daughter’s future.

Knight Tactical mechanic Izzy Reyes fixes what's broken—helicopters, engines, her daughter's toys. Everything except her relationship with God and her ability to trust. But when sabotage strikes the medical helicopters she maintains, her carefully rebuilt life goes up in smoke.

Police Chief Cory Fraser prays like breathing and follows rules like gospel—until protecting Izzy means choosing between regulations and justice.

As Christmas approaches and danger escalates, they'll discover that sometimes hope is stolen not by enemies, but by the fear that keeps hearts locked away from love.

Faith under fire. Love on the line.

Hope Landing: Where every mission echoes with danger. Faith lights the way. And love is the ultimate rescue mission.