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Hazardous Holiday
Liz Johnson


PROTECTING HIS FAMILYJust in time for the holidays, navy SEAL Zach McCloud returns home from deployment—and discovers someone wants his family dead. When he married his cousin’s struggling widow, he vowed to help her and her seriously ill son, and now he’ll risk everything to protect them. Even if their arrangement is only temporary. Kristi's certain an unhappy client from the law firm where she works is determined to hunt her down. But when a sniper bullet wildly misses its target, they begin to question whether it’s really her someone wants dead. Working together, can they figure out why they’ve been attacked…and keep little Cody from the nefarious forces dead set on making this Christmas their last?







PROTECTING HIS FAMILY

Just in time for the holidays, navy SEAL Zach McCloud returns home from deployment—and discovers someone wants his family dead. When he married his cousin’s struggling widow, he vowed to help her and her seriously ill son, and now he’ll risk everything to protect them. Even if their arrangement is only temporary. Kristi’s certain an unhappy client from the law firm where she works is determined to hunt her down. But when a sniper bullet wildly misses its target, they begin to question whether it’s really her someone wants dead. Working together, can they figure out why they’ve been attacked...and keep little Cody from the nefarious forces dead set on making this Christmas their last?


“It’s okay,” Zach said. “It’s going to be okay.”

But his words didn’t make the hail of bullets stop.

And then he heard the sweet song of police sirens. And just like that, as quickly as they’d started, the shots ended.

He released Kristi just enough for her to look up at him, eyes wild and curls askew. She dropped her gaze to her son and cupped his cheeks in her palms. “Are you all right?”

Cody looked mildly shell-shocked but shrugged anyway. “I’m okay.”

She turned her arm, and Zach saw a red swath from her elbow to her shoulder. Grabbing her with less finesse and more fear, he said, “I thought you said you weren’t hit.”

Kristi followed his gaze to the smear of blood and frowned, looking puzzled. “It’s not me. I’m not...” Her eyes widened in alarm when she looked at his shoulder. “Oh, Zach.”

She scrambled to pull off her sweater and pressed it against his arm.

Pain seared through him like a flash of lightning. It was as if his entire arm was on fire, and he hadn’t even noticed. Only now could he feel the blood rolling down to his elbow.

But at least it was his and not hers.


Dear Reader (#ue18fabd8-c6ef-5cb0-92ac-beb3fc2b5076),

Thank you for joining Zach, Kristi and me on this adventure. I hope you enjoyed reading their story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Zach appeared in the first Men of Valor book, A Promise to Protect, and he’s been waiting not-so-patiently for his own story ever since. In fact, he’s been waiting for a lot of things, especially Kristi. I love how he’s willing to sacrifice his own happiness for hers. And I love that his sacrifice begins to open her eyes to a love she never expected.

Both Zach and Kristi—and even Cody—get second chances at the right time. I’ve never been one who likes to wait, but Zach and Kristi remind me that God’s timing is perfect. I hope when you feel like God hasn’t heard you or that you can’t possibly wait any longer, this story will remind you that everything has a season and God’s timing is best.

Thanks for spending your time with us. I’d love to hear from you. You can reach me at liz@lizjohnsonbooks.com, Twitter.com/LizJohnsonBooks (https://twitter.com/lizjohnsonbooks) or Facebook.com/LizJohnsonBooks (https://www.facebook.com/LizJohnsonBooks). Or visit LizJohnsonBooks.com (http://www.LizJohnsonBooks.com) to sign up for my newsletter.

Liz Johnson


By day LIZ JOHNSON is a marketing manager at a Christian publisher. She makes time to write late at night and is a two-time ACFW Carol Award finalist. She lives in Nashville and enjoys exploring local music and theater, and she makes frequent trips to Arizona to dote on her nieces and nephews. She writes stories filled with heart, humor and happily-ever-afters and can be found online at www.lizjohnsonbooks.com (http://www.lizjohnsonbooks.com).


Hazardous Holiday

Liz Johnson






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


To everything there is a season,

and a time to every purpose under the heaven.

—Ecclesiastes 3:1


For the readers.

May you continue to find joy in stories

and hope in the greatest story of all.


Contents

Cover (#u12178531-9f48-597b-84f0-ae980e130754)

Back Cover Text (#u69c26344-0280-5857-ad6c-431f879983b4)

Introduction (#ubb675d20-4d3f-5eff-97b1-243ad2541bb7)

Dear Reader (#u874eaaf8-afa9-559d-9b01-de4671715cb3)

About the Author (#u1e4b5b93-67a4-58f8-9809-589e31215fc7)

Title Page (#u8b7419f8-2c53-522d-811f-5a4c83be3164)

Bible Verse (#u373e40e0-62fd-5463-8820-dcd3863bda80)

Dedication (#ud175c9ae-a34e-5a59-92ce-da2b37f23738)

PROLOGUE (#ud381c735-0ba9-5464-a0a5-f45fbe73d43f)

ONE (#u31860383-5838-549b-861e-96804de6b11c)

TWO (#uc3a26ce5-675b-5c74-b72e-b37dbb150c9b)

THREE (#u1dfcb307-1e7b-598f-a14d-fefaeefa8e6c)

FOUR (#u1f5c71d3-af8a-5dc8-8b08-be6d75f5e3c7)

FIVE (#u6192629c-d93f-5135-a5c6-a3af18301d57)

SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


PROLOGUE (#ue18fabd8-c6ef-5cb0-92ac-beb3fc2b5076)

“I guess we’d better get married, then.”

At Zach’s words, Kristi Tanner dropped her mug. It shattered and splashed coffee across her kitchen floor, dousing the nearby cabinets in the pale, creamy drink.

All six feet two inches of Zach McCloud stooped in silence to scoop up the porcelain shards, but she couldn’t move as his words rang in her ears, over and over.

We’d better get married, then.

Get married, then.

Married.

As proposals went, that was the very worst one she’d ever heard. Of course, she’d heard only two in person. But this was nothing like a sweet, romantic scene from the movies.

From his knees, Zach stared up at her. “I guess that was a bit of a surprise.”

She gave him a curt nod.

“Sorry about that.” He threw the broken mug away, then shifted into the traditional proposal pose. She sucked in a quick gasp. Was he going to do it right this time?

But she didn’t know what right looked like.

When Aaron had asked her to marry him, he’d pulled a ring out of the front pocket of his work jeans and slipped it on her finger before she’d even known what was happening. That had been fine with her, since she’d been in love with Aaron Tanner since he shared his pudding cup with her in the second grade.

But he was never going to share his dessert with her again.

Tears burned her eyes, and she tried to wipe them away. No matter how similar their hazel-green eyes and cleft chins—genetic traits the cousins shared—the man kneeling before her wasn’t Aaron.

“Why exactly do you think we should get married?”

Zach rubbed at his bald head, the superclose shave most likely masking the McCloud men’s tendency toward early hair loss. “Guess I sort of jumped ahead there.”

“You think?” She couldn’t help the snark that laced her words. It wasn’t pointed at him precisely. It wasn’t pointed anywhere actually.

Maybe a little at Aaron.

Definitely kind of at Aaron.

He’d promised they’d grow old together working the ranch they both loved.

Then he’d gone and walked in on a robbery in progress. He’d tried to protect the pregnant clerk behind the gas station counter. And he’d been shot three times in the chest.

How dare he leave her to raise their five-year-old son, Cody, all by herself?

“As I see it, you can’t stay in Montana,” he said, his voice low, laced with pain that was entirely too familiar.

Aaron hadn’t just been Zach’s cousin. He’d been his best friend, too.

He snagged a towel from the counter and mopped up the coffee streaks down the cabinets before wiping at the puddle on the floor. “Not with Cody’s condition.”

That was a placid euphemism for the sinister heart defect that had been slowly stealing her son’s life, breath by breath.

“He needs to be near the best doctors when he reaches the top of the transplant list. And you need support...and insurance.” The flecks of brown in his green eyes seemed to glow as he leaned forward. “You’re all alone out here.”

Like she needed the reminder. Their nearest neighbor was more than a dozen miles away. The nearest hospital was more than fifty miles. Aaron’s parents—Zach’s aunt and uncle—had moved into town when she and Aaron took over the ranch.

And the ranch hands spent their time mending fences and minding the herd. They weren’t around the house, if she ever needed them.

But why would she need them? She’d grown up on a ranch—albeit a much smaller spread. Still, she could stitch up a cut, round up a stray and fix a broken tractor.

If something happened to her, she’d get through.

But now that something had happened to Cody, well, she’d go crazy if she couldn’t get him to help fast enough.

On paper, Zach’s solution made sense. But in reality...could she really do this? Could she marry Zach McCloud?

* * *

Zach stared up into the deepest brown eyes he’d ever known and called himself every kind of fool for springing his plan on Kristi. In all the time he’d spent chewing on the idea—since he’d heard about Cody’s heart condition—he should have had time to come up with a better approach. But despite her shock, he still knew this was the right decision.

He’d even asked his pastor for advice. They’d spent two hours searching Scripture for direction.

Time and again they’d landed in the book of James and the command to care for the orphans and widows.

He could care for her and help her.

Marrying her was the best way he knew to do it.

And if he’d been in love with her since they were sixteen, well, he wouldn’t let that get in the way of being the friend she needed, the friend Aaron would expect him to be.

Focusing on Kristi, he narrowed his gaze and dropped his voice. “It makes sense.”

She blinked rapidly, a motion he knew well. She was fighting the tears that threatened to spill. He guessed they came pretty regularly nowadays.

But she didn’t say no. So he plowed forward.

“Look, I know it’s strange. But Aaron was practically my brother. I’d do anything for him. Which means I’d do anything for you and Cody.” Zach rubbed his head. “If we get married, you’ll be taken care of. You’ll have the navy’s best insurance. You’ll have a place to live in San Diego, close to some of the best pediatric transplant surgeons in the country.”

“But we haven’t spent any time together since high school.”

They’d all spent every summer together when they were kids, but Zach had joined the navy right out of high school and hadn’t been back to Montana in years. She probably remembered him as a shy, gangly tenth grader.

He wasn’t that kid anymore.

Just as he was formulating his case, she shook her head firmly. “I can’t. I’m not ready to be married to someone else. It’s only been a year.”

Fifteen months to be exact, but he wouldn’t argue the point. She wasn’t ready to share her life with another man. Maybe she never would be. But that wasn’t what he was offering.

“I have a three-bedroom town house. There’s more than enough room for you and Cody to each have your own. And...and my team is being deployed.”

“Deployed? Where?”

He shook his head. She might as well get used to it. He didn’t talk about where his SEAL team served. Ever.

But her frown said that wasn’t acceptable. “When?”

“In about four weeks. For a year.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re suggesting I leave everything and everyone I know and move to San Diego. But you’re not going to be there.”

He stood, towering over her, but she didn’t step back.

“I know it’s not ideal, but I don’t have a better suggestion.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he hung his head. “I want to help. And all I’m asking in return is that you trust me.”

“And how long will I be in San Diego?”

“As long as you and Cody need it.” He shrugged. “You have a home there for as long as it takes.”

“What about after?”

He mouthed the word after and twisted the towel in his hands until the fibers strained. After Cody’s surgery? After she didn’t need him anymore? He had no answers, but still a strong conviction that this was what he was supposed to do.

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Momma?”

Her gaze swung to the kitchen entry, and Zach followed it a second behind. The little boy looked smaller than his five years, practically skin and bones, his face dominated by his dad’s big green eyes.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Reaching out a hand to him, she said, “Come here, little man.” He ran to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, tucking his face into her side as she sifted her fingers through his sandy-blond hair.

Before she could make introductions, he squatted in front of them. Eye level with the boy, Zach held out his hand. “You must be Cody. I’m Zach. I’ve heard a lot of great things about you. Your dad talked about you all the time.”

For an instant Cody’s lips trembled. “You knew my daddy?”

Zach’s eyes burned. “He was my very best friend and the best man I knew.”

A sniff from above drew Zach’s attention, and he looked up in time to see Kristi wiping her face.

“All right.”

Was that a yes to his proposal—botched though it may have been?

She seemed to read his question on his face and nodded slowly. “Bud, how would you like to live by the ocean?”


ONE (#ue18fabd8-c6ef-5cb0-92ac-beb3fc2b5076)

Thirteen months later

Kristi Tanner had been an idiot.

There was no other word for it.

What on earth had possessed her to marry a man she barely knew and to move into an unfamiliar neighborhood? She still didn’t feel safe here, even after more than a year. Though that sense of danger mostly stemmed from the brown sedan that had been parked across the street from her town house on and off for two weeks. It didn’t seem to belong to a single one of her neighbors.

She gave it another hard look as the vehicle pulled past for the hundredth time.

She couldn’t be the only one in the neighborhood who noticed the strange drive-bys or felt like someone was watching her unload groceries and pull weeds.

Maybe that was all part of life in a big city. Maybe she should have expected the weight of a hundred eyes on her. Only it hadn’t started until a few weeks ago. Right after the scene at her office.

She shook her head. She didn’t have time today to think about the odd shiver down her back or that silly car. Not when she was expected at the base.

When Zach had shipped out, a year had seemed so long. He’d been gone, and she and Cody had built their life in San Diego. Doctor’s appointments. A new job. Cody’s homeschooling. Birthdays and holidays. They’d made the most of them all, every day grieving their loss a little less.

But now Zach was coming back—coming home.

To her home.

“What time do they get in?”

Cody sagged in the backseat, but his smile couldn’t be denied. Despite his pale lips and sallow skin, his eyes danced with anticipation. And Kristi couldn’t deny him his joy at the prospect of seeing his longtime pen pal.

Not even if her insides were a knot of nerves.

“His flight was supposed to arrive at one.”

“Hurry.” He kicked at the back of her seat as his voice rose. “We’re going to be late.”

The light changed, and she zipped in front of a red sports car, headed toward the Coronado Bridge. “We’re not going to be late. And stop kicking my seat.”

“Yes, Momma.” The frantic beats at her back ended immediately. “But hurry?” he pleaded.

She took a corner a little faster than she’d anticipated, and her purse flew across the passenger seat, sending several worn envelopes flying to the floorboard. She’d carried Zach’s letters with her every day since they began arriving. One every month. All written in a bold, blocky hand.

They weren’t filled with flowery poetry or sweet words. They never hinted at affection or the pain of distance.

No one would dare to classify them as love letters.

Still, they offered a peek into the heart of the man she’d married. Funny stories of his team’s time abroad. Concern for Cody. Scriptures he’d been reading.

She’d pored over them all.

And never sent a single response.

It was so much easier to tag a note on to the end of Cody’s emails, letting Zach know they were well and his house was fine, than to put her real thoughts on to paper. Her real doubts.

At first she’d wondered every day after their courthouse ceremony if she’d made the right decision. But as the weeks ticked by, life had settled into a new normal.

Until the call a few days ago.

Ashley Waterstone, the wife of the senior chief of Zach’s SEAL team, had called with news. The team was coming home.

“Momma?”

“Yes, Cody?”

“Where’s Zach going to stay?”

Her stomach clenched, her grip on the wheel turning her knuckles white. As promised, Zach’s three-bedroom home was big enough for all of them, but it would be strange to have another person in the space she’d come to see as hers and Cody’s.

“Because I was thinking he could stay in my room.”

Kristi couldn’t hold back a giggle.

“I have bunk beds, and he could have the top one.” Cody met her gaze in the rearview mirror and smiled broadly. “Do you think he’d want to?”

“Well, bud,” she said as tactfully as she could, “he’s been working hard for a long time. He might need lots of good sleep.”

Cody shook his head vigorously. “I bet he’ll want to. I’ll ask him. My Chevy night-light is really cool.”

“That it is. You ask him. But if he says no, then you say okay. Okay?”

“Okay.”

They turned left and then followed the road through the lush greenery beneath a cloudless blue sky. The sun shone off the legendary red spires of the Hotel del Coronado to their right. Another sunny-and-seventy day in Southern California, even in December.

Of all the familiar things she missed about Montana—her friends, Aaron’s family and the beauty of Big Sky Country—she never missed the winter weather.

As she pulled up to the gatehouse at the entrance to the base, Cody began chanting his excitement. When she rolled her window down, the guard looked into the backseat at the ruckus.

“Is someone’s dad coming home today?” the big man asked.

Kristi swallowed the lump in her throat. The same one that seemed to pop up at the oddest reminders of Aaron. “I’m Kristi T—McCloud. I’m here to pick up Zach.”

The man’s eyes grew bright as he looked at her driver’s license. “Ziggy? Oh, he’s here. In their offices probably.” He quickly handed back her license and gave her directions to a trailer.

She repeated them to herself over and over. “Left, right, across from the third pier.”

The building wasn’t much, marked only with a number and a few big trucks in the parking spaces beside it.

She pulled into a spot and took a deep breath. She could do this. Things were going to change, but it didn’t have to be for the worse. They’d already survived one adjustment. They could get through another. With a firm nod of her head and a silent prayer heavenward, she opened her door, then helped Cody out of the backseat.

Just as Cody’s feet hit the ground, a small white SUV flew into the spot two over. A gorgeous brunette tumbled out from behind the wheel. She sprinted for the door to the trailer, and it slammed closed behind her.

Cody looked confused, his little eyes squinting against the sun.

“I think we’re in the right place,” Kristi reassured him. “Someone is excited to see her husband. Are you excited to see Zach?”

“Yes.” He pumped his fist in the air as best he could, and she ushered him toward the building, holding open the door as he ambled in.

Compared with the bright sun, the fluorescent interior lights were almost black, and she had to blink quickly. As soon as her eyes adjusted, she spotted the same brunette from outside, swinging around the neck of a man in brown camouflage. His arms locked around her waist, his eyes closed as they spun.

“Miss me?” he asked, and she replied with a kiss.

Kristi suddenly felt very out of place. Maybe they should go wait in the car. Or drive over the bridge and wait for Zach to show up at the house. This was a time for sweet reunions between real loves, not awkward embraces with faux wives.

But just as she snagged Cody’s arm, a familiar voice made her insides tremble. It was low and filled with concern.

“Kristi?”

Cody wiggled free and ran for Zach, who easily scooped the thin boy into his arms. Zach’s smile was genuine but surprised as he patted Cody’s back and ruffled his hair.

“Good to see you, little man.”

Cody threw his skinny arms over the broad shoulders and hugged Zach’s neck like they were best friends. “You came back!”

“Told you I would.”

“And you’re in time for Christmas!”

“You don’t say.” Zach’s smile faltered as he looked in her direction and caught her gaze.

Embarrassment washed over her for no particular reason, and she wrapped her arms around her middle.

The corner of Zach’s eyes crinkled as his gaze dropped to the floor, and she felt every inch of his survey. He stepped closer and leaned in, his warmth wrapping around her. “Good to see you.” He pressed his lips to her cheek, and her nerves prickled to life, down her neck and right into her already-seasick stomach.

The best she could manage in response was a trembling smile.

“The transplant coordinator says I’m almost at the top of the list.”

She thanked God for Cody every day. And especially when his random outburst drew all of Zach’s attention and a big grin.

“How’re you feeling?”

Cody shrugged, wilting into Zach’s shoulder. “Tired mostly. Momma makes me take a break every day. Even when Mrs. Drummond is staying with me while mom’s at work.”

Zach laughed, a rich baritone that reverberated off the fake-wood walls, at Cody’s euphemism for naps. “I might be able to match you break for break, man. I haven’t gotten a full night of sleep in a while...”

“What were you doing?”

“Cody, no,” she interrupted. “Don’t ask—”

“I was protecting people who can’t protect themselves.”

Cody’s eyes filled with sadness, and the pout of his lower lip quivered. “Did their daddies die, too?”

With a flash of the same sadness in his own eyes, Zach nodded. “Some of them.”

“Then I’m glad you went to help them.” Just like that, Cody assessed that Zach’s work was worthy, and he moved on to the next topic of interest, pointing at the embracing couple. “Who are they?”

Zach turned to look behind him. “That’s Willie G.—I mean, Will Gumble and his wife, Jess. And that’s the senior chief.” A tall, lean man stepped out of an office and walked up to them, holding out his hand to shake Kristi’s.

“Matt Waterstone. You must be Kristi. Zig talks about you all the time.”

A truck full of gravel emptied into her stomach, and she barely managed to shake his hand before her knees began trembling. What had Zach been saying about her? Did they all know she’d been forced to marry a man she didn’t love for the sake of her son? Her hands shook, and she wrung them in front of her, trying not to be intimidated by the steel in his posture.

Zach grunted his disagreement but didn’t get out a word before the door flung open and three towheaded kids raced inside. They shouted and cheered as Matt squatted before them, scooping even the oldest—probably seven or eight—into his arms.

Each child was given a hard kiss on the forehead before Ashley, their mom, arrived. The kids seemed to know the drill, and they parted ways as she reached her husband and held him tightly.

Kristi took several shuffling steps backward. She didn’t belong here. Not with these real family reunions. Grabbing for Cody’s hand, she snagged Zach’s bare forearm instead, and they both jumped at the contact.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice barely carried, but the firm shake of his head told her he’d heard her just fine.

“Are you ready to go home?” he asked.

She looked away. “Anytime.”

“Let me get my bag.”

When she reached for Cody, the boy whimpered and tucked his head into Zach’s neck. Kristi flinched. “I’m sorry. He’s really tired. This is usually one of his rest times.”

Zach didn’t quite smile, but there was a tenderness in his eyes as he readjusted the weight in his arm. “No problem. I’ll be right back.”

True to his word, Zach ducked into an office and returned in less than a minute. The large camouflage bag slung over his shoulder was bigger than her son, but he carried both without any indication of the burden. With a wave to his fully occupied teammates, he ushered her into the bright sunlight and to the car.

Usually she had to wrestle Cody into his seat when he was on the verge of sleep, but Zach made it look easy. And with his bag stowed in the trunk, he looked from the driver’s door to her hands to her face. “Want me to drive?”

“Oh.” Her gaze dropped to the faintly jingling keys in her trembling fingers. That’s right. She didn’t have to drive all the time now. She wasn’t alone anymore. Even if she didn’t know quite what that meant. “Sure. That would be nice.”

When she climbed into the passenger side, she had another reason to be grateful she’d passed over the keys. His letters were still strewn across the floorboard, and she scrambled to collect them and shove them into her oversize purse before he noticed.

* * *

Zach couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her, even as he pulled off the base and toward the bridge.

He’d never had a welcoming party before. His mom and dad had tried to meet him following his first deployment, but after his team had been delayed and then called back to duty, they’d headed back to Texas. This was new. And not unpleasant.

“You didn’t have to be here today.” His tone came out thicker, gruffer than he’d intended, and her eyes flashed wide.

“Should we not have come? I didn’t know what you’d want, and we didn’t realize—”

He held up his hand quickly to cut her off while he cleared his throat. “No. I’m glad you did. I just wasn’t expecting it. You didn’t have to.”

Kristi’s head dipped, her hair falling over her shoulder and blocking his view of her face. “Ashley called and told me to be here. I thought maybe you’d asked her to get in touch with us.”

His stomach gave an involuntary jerk, and he pressed a fist to his knee. He should have thought to do that. He’d just never had a family in San Diego before. Not even an unconventional one.

“I guess we both have some adjusting to do.”

She heaved a little sigh that sounded as tightly wound as he was. And in some strange way, it helped to know that he wasn’t the only one unsure how to navigate this new terrain.

As he pulled her little green four-door onto the bridge, a large black van came up behind them. He watched it through the rearview, its bulk taking up most of his mirror and making the hairs on his arms stand up. It was following them awfully closely.

He frowned but kept his speed up, shifting into the middle lane of the eastbound traffic. The van stayed put, and he let out a slow breath.

“Cody’s been so excited to see you. He told the checker at the grocery store that his SEAL was coming home. I think she thought you were a pet.”

Zach chuckled. “I’ve been called a lot worse. He’s a good kid. It was nice to get his emails every week.” With a glance into the backseat, he checked on the sleeping boy. “How’s he doing?”

Kristi hugged her giant bag to her chest and plastered on something that he assumed was supposed to resemble a smile. It came much closer to a grimace.

“He’s...tired. All the time. He’s not getting enough oxygen, and the doctor said that pretty soon he’ll either have to carry around a canister or move into the hospital full-time.”

That made sense. The kid’s lips were borderline blue, and his breathing was too fast.

He shot another glance in Cody’s direction.

But his gaze snagged on the two black vans that were now behind them. His pulse soared.

Snapping his focus back to the front, he saw what he’d missed before. A third van in the left lane, slowing down. In a few seconds it would be at their side.

The vans had set up a tactical maneuver.

He’d seen a thousand of them in training and in the field, and it didn’t take him more than a second to work out what was happening. They were going to box him in. To what end, he couldn’t be sure. Would they try to force his car off the bridge?

As if on cue, the van to the left jerked to a near stop, tires squealing and cars behind it laying on their horns.

The painful screech stopped Kristi’s chatter. “What’s going on?”

Zach motioned toward the van, then to the right, where another pulled up alongside them. They didn’t seem to be trying to force him off the bridge, then—so what was their plan? He slowed way down, putting extra space between him and the vehicle ahead. It was a tractor trailer. Running into that could seriously injure him and Kristi and Cody. Was that the goal?

He continued slowing down to the annoyed honks of everyone behind them. But he didn’t have another choice. There were three eastbound lanes and no way off the two-mile bridge. Traffic was hemmed in by a cement barrier blocking oncoming traffic on the left and a relatively low guardrail on the right. But with enough force, at the right angle, the car could go up and over.

And into the Pacific.

His stomach sank faster than a car in the ocean.

The van on the right was edging closer to them, while the one on their left held its position, keeping Zach from an evasive maneuver. Braking hard wasn’t going to work either. Not with the third van right on their six.

Kristi gasped and covered her eyes, then nearly lunged for the backseat. “Cody.”

Zach gave her a push until she was facing the front. “Sit down. Keep your belt on.”

It was terse and a bit sharp. And all he could manage at the moment.

The van to the left pulled ahead while the one on the right veered into their lane. Zach didn’t have another choice. He had to pull into the vacancy, even as the lumbering black beast on his right kept pressing them closer and closer to the divider. If they hit it just right, the front end could crumple in on them. Or they could flip over the divider into oncoming traffic.

He had to get out of there.

He had to get his family to safety.

Find the opening. Find the exit strategy.

His instructors had drilled it into him. There was always a way to escape. He just had to wait until it presented itself.

It took half a second to see it. He didn’t pause to analyze. He just floored it. They shot ahead of the van on the right, which couldn’t keep up with the lighter sedan. Zipping behind the semi and into the far lane, they shot forward into the clear. The vans tried to catch up, but the end of the bridge was in sight.

As soon as they were on land, he veered off to a side street, searching for a pursuit that didn’t come.

Kristi’s chest rose and fell rapidly, her panting breaths filling the otherwise silent car.

Zach narrowed his gaze and stared into her pinched features.

“You want to tell me what exactly I came home to?”


TWO (#ue18fabd8-c6ef-5cb0-92ac-beb3fc2b5076)

Zach eased Cody into the bottom bunk and pulled the covers under his chin. The little guy had slept through the whole ordeal on the bridge and even through the tense drive back to the town house. But now he let out a loud yawn, and his eyes blinked open.

“Is it nighttime?”

Zach leaned over Cody and shook his head. “Nope. But for now, you should get some rest. Have a good na—” he pulled himself up short “—sleep.”

Cody yawned again and snuggled beneath the red blanket covered in classic Corvettes. “Okay.”

Kristi watched everything from the doorway, and when he sneaked past her, she stayed put, her head never turning away from Cody’s face. It glowed in two low beams, the headlights of a red ’57 Chevy night-light.

After several long seconds, she followed Zach down the stairs toward the kitchen, tripping on his duffel, which he’d dropped by the front door.

This wasn’t a good sign. He never left things lying around, but one quick trip up the stairs with the kid, and he’d already forgotten his usual routine.

“Sorry.” He grabbed the bag and carried it through the kitchen before shoving it into the laundry room, which now housed a metal shelf between the washer and dryer and more types of laundry detergent than a grocery store aisle.

What else had she changed while he’d been gone?

But there were more pressing questions that needed to be answered first.

She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes unseeing. As if on autopilot, she grabbed a plastic cup, filled it with apple juice and held it out to him.

“I could go for a soda, actually.”

“What?” She jumped at his voice and looked down at the cup in her hand, then back at his face. The blank mask she’d been wearing since the bridge fell away, and an actual smile dropped into place. “I’m sorry. I was thinking...”

“About who might have been trying to push us into the Pacific?”

Her brows locked together, fear flashing through her deep brown eyes, and he suddenly hated himself for being so blunt. But tiptoeing around an issue had never been his forte.

Looking away from her, he grabbed a can from the fridge and popped the top. Tipping it back, he took a swig. And nearly spit it out.

Diet.

Yuck.

Glancing over to see if she’d noticed his near spit take, he watched as she ran her hands over her hair, a wild mass of honey-colored curls that reached well past her shoulders and looked softer than satin. “I just don’t understand,” she said. “Why would someone do that? They were trying to...”

“Kill us. Yes.” Her face paled, and he tried to keep his voice low and gentle. Not easy after a year with a bunch of guys who didn’t do coddling. “And they wanted it to look like an accident.”

She swallowed, the sound filling the otherwise silent kitchen. Pressing a palm to the counter and the other over her stomach, she took several great breaths as the fear in her eyes shifted into something that resembled anger. “My son was in that car.”

The truth hit like a boot to the kidneys. If someone was after him or Kristi, Cody would have been collateral damage, and whoever was inside those vans didn’t care.

If a six-year-old wasn’t safe, none of them were.

Zach took a step toward her, and she matched it in reverse, keeping three feet between them. But she kept her chin up and her eyes open and said nothing.

“That was broad daylight, Kristi. Someone was blatantly targeting us.”

“I know.” Her words carried a subtle tremor that she must have noticed because she paused, straightened her shoulders and tried again. “They were after me.”

His entire body went on high alert, every muscle tensing, every nerve crackling. She sounded so certain, but he needed more details. “Why do you think that?”

Neck and shoulders stiffer than a frozen tarp, she stared right into his eyes. “Because Jackson Cole pointed right at me and said he’d make me pay.”

The floor seemed to disappear beneath him, and he stumbled to a stool at the counter. He pointed at the seat beside him. “Maybe you should start from the beginning.”

She looked from the spot beside him to the juice in her hand several times before nodding, setting the cup in the sink and then padding around the end of the counter and swiveling onto the stool.

“I’m not even sure where the beginning is.” She stared down at the granite counter.

“Why don’t you try from the day I left?”

Another small nod. “I applied for a job right before you left.”

“With the lawyers. Right. In one of Cody’s emails, you said you got it. Are you still working there?” He’d told her she didn’t have to work, but she’d insisted. She’d gotten to know one of Zach’s neighbors—an elderly woman who lived alone—who was happy to keep an eye on Cody while she was at the office in exchange for Kristi driving her on a couple of errands every week. Kristi had told Zach that she needed to make friends and start a life here. So he hadn’t argued the matter.

“I’ve been with Jessup, Jessup and Holcomb almost as long as you’ve been gone. I’m a part-time receptionist. Just fifteen hours a week. It’s a prestigious firm with a good reputation—but the team isn’t very big. The three partners, two junior lawyers and some paralegals and investigators.”

“And you,” he said.

“Yes, and me.” Her voice petered out, and her gaze locked on something on the far wall. Something that hadn’t been there a year ago.

It looked like a framed drawing, the reds and yellows of a crayon mostly inside the black lines of a muscle car. It must have been colored by Cody, who apparently loved cars. The ones he could stay awake to see anyway.

“So this Jackson Cole guy... He worked with you?”

“No.” Her expression tightened. “He wanted Walt Jessup to defend him. He was—is—a well-connected, well-known drug dealer. And the city finally got the evidence they needed for a trial. Cole thought that Walt was the only one who could get him off the charges.”

“But Walt refused?” It wasn’t really a question. He’d put the pieces together easily enough.

“When Walt turned him down, Cole went nuts. He tore the waiting room apart, turning over chairs and breaking lamps.” She pulled her hands into fists. Zach couldn’t do anything but cup his hand over her arm as a silent reminder that she didn’t have to carry the burden alone. “And just before he left, he pointed at Walt, then at me, and said he’d get even.”

The fear in her voice twisted at his gut. He needed to fix this for her. Now. “When did that happen?”

“About four weeks ago.” She looked into his eyes, hers steady. She was holding it together pretty well, all things considered.

But he didn’t want her to hold it together. He wanted her happy and safe. And Cody healed.

“Is this the first time something like this has happened?”

She frowned. “The first actual attack. But I’ve seen them around. Not those vans exactly, but cars that I don’t know parked on the street, watching us. And one night I came home and there was someone peeking into the windows. He took off before I could get a good look at him.”

“Did you call the police?”

“Yes. Walt had called them after the waiting room incident. And I called the same detective. Sunny something...” Her voice trailed off, and he easily filled in the blanks.

“She took your statement, but you haven’t heard back from her.”

“Yes.”

Zach let the story tumble over in his mind. Something didn’t sit quite right with what she’d told him. Not that he didn’t believe she was telling the truth. It just wasn’t adding up to what he’d seen on the bridge—an organized attack.

Jackson Cole sounded like the type of guy who’d fly off the handle at any perceived slight. Not the type to plot and plan. It took patience and strategy to get three vans to run a specific car off the road. Men with those qualities didn’t usually throw temper tantrums when they didn’t get their way.

Besides, she still hadn’t answered one key question. “Why you? There are at least a dozen people in the office. Why’d he pick you?”

“I’m not entirely sure. Maybe because I was the one who told him Walt wouldn’t take a meeting with him. Or maybe because I was handy and he recognized my face.”

Zach nodded but kept silent for a long moment. There had to be more to this situation. Had she been privy to some information that Cole needed to keep a secret? Had she seen something in a file she wasn’t supposed to?

Maybe she didn’t even know what she wasn’t supposed to know.

But they’d figure it out. Together.

He slid his touch down the slender bones of her arm. At her hand, he pulled it into his, lacing their fingers and squeezing softly. Her hand fit so well into his grasp, petite and soft, just like the rest of her.

The urge to pull her into his arms nearly knocked him off his stool, but he wasn’t free to do that. They had signed a paper in the judge’s office that said they were man and wife. But that’s all she’d agreed to. And he wouldn’t push her for more. Not now.

Not ever.

Even if it nearly killed him.

He scrubbed his free hand down his face and looked away from her warm brown eyes.

He was all kinds of an idiot.

But he’d marry her again in a heartbeat if that’s what it took to help Aaron’s son. And he’d do anything to keep them both safe.

“First we have to call the police. Then I guess I’d better talk with Walt and see if he has any more information about Jackson Cole.” Her eyes widened and Zach could see she wasn’t pleased with the idea, but he had no intention of backing down. He was going to do whatever it took to protect her, whether she liked it or not.

* * *

This had been a terrible idea, but Kristi hadn’t been able to talk Zach out of it. After a quick and unhelpful call to Detective Sunny Diaz, who’d said she couldn’t help without license plates or models on the vans—neither of which they had—Zach had insisted they talk with Walt.

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice low as he stepped out of the car. He could probably feel the strain coming off her in waves.

He walked around the hood of the car, opened her door and held out his big, callused hand. The tips of his fingers were blunt, the skin toughened by hard work. Yet they were cupped in a gentle invitation.

Taking a deep breath, she put hers in his and let him pull her out.

“I don’t want to lose this job. Do you know how hard it is to find a part-time job with flexible hours and decent pay? If Cody is having a bad day, Walt lets me make up the hours another time. And if I get a call from Mrs. Drummond that Cody isn’t feeling well, I can leave at any time. I like working here, and they understand that Cody comes first. I don’t think there’s another job like this one.”

Also, she hadn’t told them that Zach was only sort of her spouse. They thought she was a military wife, and when they’d learned her husband was overseas they’d poured out to her. Bringing her food. Sharing a bonus check. Getting her car serviced. Offering her several extra days off when Zach returned.

But if they found out that they had a marriage built on necessity rather than love, would they feel like she’d taken advantage of their generosity?

Undoubtedly.

And she hadn’t exactly told Zach that her boss thought they were really married either.

This could be a disaster.

His smile turned solemn, but the light in his eyes didn’t disappear. “I won’t put it in jeopardy.” Taking a step closer and brushing an escaped curl behind her ear, he caught her gaze and held it. “You just have to remember that we’re married. Everyone loves meeting a military man back from overseas finally getting to spend time with his wife.”

“But where do I tell them you were?” She didn’t even know the answer to that.

“I’ll take care of it.” Squeezing her hand, which he still held, he winked at her. “Promise.”

Her stomach took a nosedive. They’d shared precisely twelve letters and four days together since they said their vows. But all the same, she trusted him. “All right.” With a deep breath and a sigh, she followed him into the five-story office building. The only sound in the elevator was the light jazz that made his eyebrows go up, as though asking if it could be any more cliché. “We don’t own the building. We just rent the top floor.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” There was a subtle twinkle in his eye that said he was teasing her. And it was an unfamiliar sensation. She hadn’t had inside jokes with anyone since Aaron, and it was a strange reminder of the little things she missed.

When the elevator doors dinged, she led the way and sent up a quick prayer that this wouldn’t be awkward.

Lord, let us find some answers and let me keep my job.

As soon as they reached the lobby, the office seemed to erupt. At the front desk, Ginger popped up, her eyes bright and hands outstretched. “Are you Zach?” Her voice carried and heads popped out of open doors up and down the hallway.

With a glance toward the boardroom, Kristi let out a breath of relief that there was no meeting on the other side of the glass wall for them to interrupt. Turning back to Ginger, she opened her mouth to introduce him, but she was too late.

He gave a little bow and shook her hand. “Chief Petty Officer Zach McCloud. It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

Ginger was barely thirty-five, only a few years older than Zach himself. She cooed at his formality. “Oh, Zach. Call me Ginger—everyone does. We’ve just been so eager to meet you. Where were you stationed?”

Of course. Of course, Ginger would start with the question that even Kristi couldn’t answer.

But Zach’s grin amped up, and he offered a wink, as though sharing a secret. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. But I’m happy to be home.” He snagged an arm around Kristi’s waist. “With my family.”

Ginger chuckled but didn’t have time to respond as Teri and Trina, two blonde paralegals, descended on them. “Welcome home!” They spoke and moved as one, even though Teri was about eight inches taller than her counterpart.

Zach greeted them, too, all things friendly and jovial, but his arm never moved from around her middle. It was equal parts possessive and protective, and she let herself lean into his solid shoulder, trying not to analyze which part they were playing. Whatever he was doing was working. Everyone was at ease. Except for Kristi.

Then Walt arrived, his salt-and-pepper hair combed just right and a cautious smile in place. “Walt Jessup,” he said, quickly shaking Zach’s hand. “Thank you for your service.”

“It’s an honor, sir. Thank you for what you’ve done for Kristi.”

“Oh, she’s the one helping us. It’s hard to find such a smart, motivated employee for a part-time position.”

Her cheeks warmed at the praise. Clapping her hands over her face, she turned away. This wasn’t going so badly—overly flattering compliments aside. Everyone was friendly and happy to meet him, and true to his word, he hadn’t said anything worrisome.

Until he pulled Walt to the side. “I like the furniture in here. It looks new.”

Her insides twisted into a knot. That was a blatant lead-in to the real questions he wanted to ask.

Walt laughed it off. “Oh, we had a little trouble in here a few weeks back. I’m sure Kristi told you. A would-be client trashed the whole room. But it was a good excuse to redecorate.”

He nodded. “She did tell me. Have you had any more trouble with him?”

“I think he’s long gone.” Walt’s poker face was too good for Kristi to be sure if he really had nothing more to share about Cole.

Before Zach could ask any follow-up questions, Trina shrieked, “You have to come to the Christmas party.”

Zach rubbed the top of his head. “Christmas party?”

Walt slapped him on the back. “Of course. We have one for friends and family every year in the big conference room in the back. Food, dancing, plenty of holiday celebration. You’ll come.”

It wasn’t a question, but Kristi still scrambled to find a reason to decline. “I’m not sure—”

“Sounds wonderful.” Zach shot her a full grin and a knowing look that said he had a plan. Problem was, she had no clue what it was. “We’ll be there.”


THREE (#ue18fabd8-c6ef-5cb0-92ac-beb3fc2b5076)

Kristi rolled out of bed the next morning more exhausted than she’d been the night before. And no closer to coming up with a plausible reason why Zach shouldn’t—couldn’t—go to her office Christmas party. Nerves over the party mixed with fears over Jackson Cole, culminating in half-waking dreams where he appeared at the event. He’d screamed and pointed right at her in a way that was far too familiar for comfort, sending shivers racing down her spine.

She’d much rather stay under her warm blanket and pretend none of this was happening.

But the pitter-patter of little feet down the stairs reminded her that she had to get out of bed. Cody had a doctor’s appointment that afternoon that he couldn’t miss. No matter how much she wanted to hunker down inside and ride out whatever storm was coming for her.

The loud footfalls that followed the soft ones reminded her she didn’t have to face it alone.

Somehow that was enough to get her out of bed and stumbling toward the kitchen. Pulling on her ratty robe, she nearly tripped over an uneven arm of the belt before catching herself on the wall with a loud thud.

“Everything okay up there?” Zach’s voice was gravelly. Cody’s sweet laughter quickly followed.

Grumbling, she straightened the belt and stomped down the stairs. When she reached the kitchen and the boys caught sight of her, Zach stopped his spoon halfway to his mouth, suspending an enormous bite of cereal and milk over his bowl. His eyebrows were at full mast, his mouth hanging open uselessly as he leaned against the counter beside Cody’s stool.

“What?”

Cody giggled.

She swung her gaze on him, frown in place and eyes narrowed. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s—”

Zach dropped his soup spoon back into his bowl with a splash. “Nothing. Nothing is funny.”

She caught her reflection in the stainless steel toaster on the counter. Her hair was a wild mass on top of her head, her curls stretching in every direction and dancing with every movement. She clamped her hands over her hair and tried to tame it.

It didn’t help.

Neither did Zach’s smirk as he picked his spoon back up and took a bite of his sugary breakfast.

She shot a glance in Cody’s direction. He had a piece of whole wheat toast slathered in jelly sitting on a plate and a bowl in front of him. “Did you give him cereal? He can’t have that much processed sugar.”

“Relax, Momma.”

She frowned at Cody’s too-cool tone. Where’d he pick that up?

Cody tipped the bowl toward her. “Zach peeled me an orange.”

“Oh.” As comebacks went, it wasn’t her best. But she didn’t have anything else to say. Except maybe that she’d overreacted. Maybe she was a little too on edge lately. Maybe sharing her house with a man again wasn’t helping.

“I get it,” Zach assured her. “He has to eat lots of fruits and veggies and lean proteins. And not a lot of all the other stuff.”

She nodded slowly but couldn’t help eyeing the brightly colored loops in his bowl.

He didn’t seem to need a translator for her expression. “I know I have to eat the good stuff, too—and I usually do. But after a year without it, sometimes a man just needs his cereal.”

“Yeah, Mom. Sometimes a man needs cereal.”

That made her laugh out loud, and even Zach’s eyes crinkled at the corners. Holding out his hand, he gave Cody a high five, which made Cody beam. It was clear her son had missed having a man around the house. It squeezed at her chest in a strange way, an odd reminder of grief and pride. She’d managed to keep going, to keep her family moving forward.

“So, I was thinking,” Zach continued. “Christmas is only about three weeks away. And the living room is kind of bare. Maybe we should go pick out a tree this afternoon.”

“We never get a live Christmas tree.” Cody’s tone pleaded with her.

“We used to. When you were younger. Before.”

Zach met her gaze, and again he seemed to understand without more explanation. Aaron had handled the trees, until he hadn’t. That first year after his death, she’d barely managed to get a three-foot tree up on an end table. But she’d done it for Cody. The next year she’d gotten a prelit tree from a box.

It wasn’t the same.

She knew it. But it was the best she could do on her own.

But Zach had a way of reminding her that she wasn’t on her own anymore.

“Anyway, we can’t go today. You have a doctor’s appointment this afternoon.”

Cody immediately looked at Zach. “Want to go with us?”

“No, buddy.” Kristi jumped in to save Zach from having to decline. He was just back from a year away. Certainly there were people he wanted to see and things he wanted to do. They couldn’t assume his time was theirs. “I’m sure Zach has other plans today.”

He slurped the last of his milk from his bowl and smacked his lips. “There’s nothing I’d rather do than spend the day with you.”

Cody held up his hand for another high five before shoving the rest of his toast in his mouth. “There’s a car auction on TV.” He hurried toward the living room, but his steps were sluggish, like he hadn’t gotten ten hours of sleep the night before, even though he’d been asleep every time she checked on him.

Kristi watched him through the gap between the counter and cupboards, her heart breaking a little more, the way it did every day at the reminder of how frail her son was. She was so focused on him that she didn’t realize Zach had moved to her side until he reached in front of her to pop his bowl into the dishwasher. His nearness made her jump.

“You don’t have to go with us, you know.”

His forehead wrinkled into three even lines as his lips pursed to the side. His eyes grew intense, but he kept his voice low. “We don’t know when Cole might try again. But I promise I’m going to be with you when he does.”

His words filled her with mixed emotions. He spoke like there was no doubt that Cole would try again, and the certainty raced through her veins like icicles in a Montana winter. But there was warm comfort in his promise to stay by her side.

Three hours later Zach was ready to go with them. He’d zipped up Cody’s jacket, helped the boy into the backseat and climbed behind the wheel of the car before she’d even tamed her hair.

“Are you coming, Momma?” Cody yelled from his booster seat.

She slipped into the passenger side, buckling up before attempting to wrangle her hair into a ponytail.

Cody made a clucking sound. “I like it when your hair is down.”

“Me, too.”

She jumped at Zach’s gravelly whisper.

The simple fact that he’d thought about the way she wore her hair made her fingers forget how to work. She lost her grip on the hair band, and it shot across the car, smacking into his shoulder. In a flash, he caught it and handed it back to her.

“I guess you don’t agree.”

“I didn’t—that was an accident.”

He shot a sly look in her direction. “Sure it was.”

Those knowing looks he kept sending her way were making her stomach squirm. In an entirely not unpleasant way.

And she didn’t like it one bit.

He was going to be close by until Cole was captured. She’d put up with it until then. And then she could put a little space between them.

Space. That’s what she needed.

* * *

Zach followed Kristi’s stiff directions to one of the hospital’s side entrances. She hadn’t said much since he’d teased her about her hair, and she’d leaned about as far away from him as she could get in the small car.

He made a mental note to keep his thoughts about her hair to himself. Which was too bad. She had gorgeous hair. Gorgeous everything, really.

But those curls. They were practically an invitation to run his fingers through them.

Not that he would. Ever.

At least not without a verbal invitation—which he doubted he’d ever get.

He found a parking spot and stepped out of the car. And just as he was about to open the back door, a white circle danced across the roof of the car. Like a reflection from a mirror, it bounced back and forth. But the angle was all wrong for it to come from another car.

He squinted into the sun, searching for anything that would cause it, but he couldn’t see a thing.

As quickly as it had appeared, it vanished—leaving behind an unsettled feeling in his stomach.

“You okay?” Kristi asked. “Do you want me to get him?”

“No. I mean, I’m fine. I’ll get Cody.” He opened up the door, still looking over his shoulder, but there was nothing. No suspicious cars in the parking lot. No one on the roof of the adjacent building. Yet his senses were all screaming that something was about to happen. That he had to be alert.

As he set Cody on his feet and closed the door, he surveyed their surroundings one last time. The only other people in the parking lot were a family of four, including a baby in a car seat, and two nurses in their blue scrubs.

Maybe his body hadn’t relaxed after a year of being on edge, every minute of every day. But this wasn’t Lybania, and he wasn’t facing terrorists. Maybe he was seeing something that wasn’t there.

Except the shiver running down his back didn’t ease.

Pressing a hand to Kristi’s back and wrapping his other arm around Cody’s shoulders, he ushered them toward the sliding glass doors that announced the cardiology unit. Cody shuffled his feet and nearly tripped over a low curb, but Zach grabbed the back of his shirt to keep him up.

“Want a lift, little man?”

Cody looked up with drooping eyes and a sad frown and gave him a quick nod.

He scooped Cody up in time to see Kristi mouth a quick “Thank you.” Cody was small for his age but still too big for Kristi to carry very far. He couldn’t help but wonder how she’d managed for so long on her own. Had she just powered through because there was nothing else to be done?

As they reached the sidewalk in front of the building, they moved to the side to allow a large group to exit. But just before they could step inside, the world exploded.

A gunshot split the crowd, its crack sharper than a whip. Every eye turned to the column right in front of Zach, a cloud of dust escaping from the fresh bullet hole. When a second shot rocketed past them, everyone screamed at once.

The noise was deafening. High-pitched and terrified, shrieks echoed off the side of the building, surrounding them and building fear with every reverberation.

He had to shut it out so he could do what needed to be done. Protect the target. Identify the shooter. Those tasks were all that mattered.

Grabbing Kristi’s arm, he spun them behind a large potted plant and squatted low. Running his hands up and down Cody’s arms and legs in search of an injury, he demanded, “Were you hit?” When Kristi didn’t answer, he jerked his head in her direction. “Were you hit?”

She frantically shook her head as another bullet tore through the shrubbery over their heads. He pulled her close, tucking her beneath his arm and covering her body with his, Cody sandwiched between them. He couldn’t tell who was shaking—Cody, his mom or both. So he ran his hands up and down their arms to keep them engaged. He couldn’t let them check out yet. Not when there was no telling what would come next.

What came next was more bullets in quick succession. He kept his breathing even and his hands steady. If only he could get a good look at the shooter. But when he tried to peek over the top of the large urn, another shot went off, this one far too close to his ear.

The others who had been by the entrance were long gone, sprinting toward their cars. Thankfully the sidewalks were clean. No sign of blood or injury.

Because the shooter was targeting only one person.

It made his chest ache and his head spin, and he couldn’t hold Kristi’s trembling form close enough. Her head fit under his chin, her shoulder beneath his.

“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s going to be okay.”

But his words didn’t make the hail of bullets stop.

And then he heard the sweet song of police sirens. Just like that, as quickly as they’d started, the shots ended.

He didn’t dare get up until every window and roof on the opposite building had been checked. Most likely the cops had scared the shooter off. But Zach wasn’t about to play fast and loose with the lives in his arms.

He released Kristi just enough for her to look up at him, eyes wild and curls askew. Her face was filled with a hundred questions, but she only dropped her gaze to her son and cupped his cheeks in her palms. “Are you all right?”

Cody looked mildly shell-shocked but shrugged anyway. “I’m okay.”

She turned her arm, and Zach saw a red swath from her elbow to her shoulder. Grabbing her with less finesse and more fear, he said, “I thought you said you weren’t hit.” The words were harsher than he’d intended, but the dread that clogged his throat demanded nothing less.

Kristi followed his gaze to the smear of blood and frowned, looking puzzled. “It’s not me. I’m not...” Her eyes widened in alarm when she looked at his shoulder. “Oh, Zach.”

She scrambled to pull off her sweater and pressed it against his arm.

Pain seared through him like a flash of lightning. It was as if his entire arm was on fire, and he hadn’t even noticed. Only now could he feel the blood rolling down to his elbow.

But at least it was his and not hers.


FOUR (#ue18fabd8-c6ef-5cb0-92ac-beb3fc2b5076)

“I’m okay.” As soon as he said the words, Zach knew they were a lie. Blood was still seeping from his arm, and his vision was already starting to go gray. If he didn’t do something soon, he’d wind up flat on his back with a slew of doctors and nurses hovering over him.

He clamped his hand over Kristi’s, pressing her sweater harder against his wound and squishing her slender fingers in the process. She didn’t even flinch. Her eyes deep pools of concern, she leaned over Cody, closing the space between them.

“You’re going to be all right. Help’s on the way.”

He pinched his eyes closed and nodded. “Swhat I said. I’m goo’.” Was it just him, or did he sound like he’d gone a few too many rounds in a boxing ring?

Focus.

He had to stay alert. Stay in the moment. He had to keep them safe.

Kristi shifted her hand, her finger digging into his wound, and he nearly shot to his feet. He would have if her other hand hadn’t cupped his cheek, her thumb taking a slow stroll along his cheekbone, sending his heart pounding.

No, that was the strain of the scenario. Had to be.

He leaned his uninjured shoulder into the cement planter and took a sharp breath. Just focus on the pain. Don’t think about silky hands. Or pretty brown eyes.

Think about the shooter.

Vaguely he heard feet pounding toward them. Someone squawked into his radio. “Three civilians.”

“He was hit!” Kristi cried.

Zach waved his hand to cut her off. There was no need for this kind of fuss. But before he could say anything, a tall black police officer squatted right beside them.

“How many times were you hit?”

“Once.” Zach gave himself a moment to catch another breath and make sure he hadn’t missed another injury. Legs? Fine. Abs? Okay. Chest? Still there. “Just my shoulder.”

The officer nodded, repeating the news into his shoulder radio. When he turned to Cody, who still hovered beside his mom, the cop’s voice turned gentler. “Were you hurt?”

The little boy shook his head before pointing. “Zach’s bleeding.”

“I know, and help is on the way.”

The ringing in Zach’s ears turned sharper, and he turned to lean his head against the planter, but Kristi caught him, cradling him against her shoulder and resting her cheek against the top of his head.

“How long does it take to get help? We’re at the hospital.”

The police officer seemed to understand that it was a rhetorical question. They were at the hospital—but at the cardiac unit. It would take a few minutes for the police to secure the area so the emergency responders knew it was safe to move in.

“Did you see the shooter?”

Kristi shook her head, her curls tickling the back of his neck. “I didn’t see anything.”

Zach tried to sit up a little straighter, but it turned into more of a slump. “He was on the building—” he flopped his good arm in the general direction “—across the parking lot.”

Both the police officer and Kristi whipped their heads around as though they would catch a glimpse of the gunman.

The cop swung back just as quickly. “How do you know?”

“Saw his scope reflecting. On top of the car.”

Shock crossed the cop’s face. Zach guessed that most civilians didn’t pay attention to strange reflections. Well, he wasn’t a civilian.

“I’m a SEAL.”

The surprise was replaced by something that could only be identified as respect. “I didn’t realize.”

Why should he have? Zach was out of uniform and out of sorts. On the ground and mentally fuzzy wasn’t his usual stance.

But his family was safe. At least for the moment.

The cop turned his head and spoke into his radio, relaying Zach’s information. “SWAT’s going in to clear the area. It’ll be just a few minutes.”

“But he’s been shot.” Kristi’s voice cracked under the strain. “Can’t we get him inside?”

“Not without leaving him—and anyone helping him—exposed.” The cop offered a half smile and tried for a little humor. “Besides, he’s probably been hit before.”

“Actually, no.” Zach could remember a whole lot of pain in his years with the teams, but this particular discomfort was new. Getting shot hurt. With a capital H.

The blood loss wasn’t much better. It was making him woozy and far too focused on the gentle slope of the underside of Kristi’s chin. The urge to touch her surged through him. He caught his hand at the last minute and forced it back to his shoulder.

Nope. He wasn’t allowed to do that.

But she’s your wife. Your very, very pretty wife.

Not exactly.

She signed the license.

But she hadn’t agreed to anything more than a marriage in name only. Because she was scared and on her own and he’d offered to help. And he’d rather shoot his other arm than do anything to break her trust. Besides, he wasn’t the kind of man she wanted. He never had been, and he didn’t know how to be.

The cop’s radio squawked, the words a jumbled mess, except for the crucial phrase “All clear.”

In an instant, three nurses pushing a gurney charged into the open, their tennis shoes slapping against the cement and nearly covering the low squeak of one of the gurney wheels.

“Can you get up?” A formidable blonde leaned over him, looking like she’d pick him up herself if he wasn’t able.

Everything in him wanted to stay where he was and fall into oblivion. But a stupid bullet in his arm wasn’t going to keep him down. Not when the shooter was still at large, leaving his family in danger.

As he settled onto the gurney, Kristi grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “We’re right behind you.”

He closed his eyes and nodded but called out just before the nurses pushed him away. “Wait. I forgot...” His voice trailed off, and he sucked in a quick breath, snatching at as much air as he could get before quickly releasing it, trying to remember what he’d forgotten. “Bad shot.”

“What?” The cop stepped closer to him.

“The shooter. Had a scope but couldn’t have been a pro. Was a bad shot.”

Kristi shook her head frantically. “Bad? He hit you.”

“But he was aiming for you.”

* * *

Kristi couldn’t stop pacing after the nurses wheeled Zach away. During the interview with the police officer, she covered a four-foot space innumerable times. While his cardiologist checked on Cody, she marched back and forth across the exam room. When Cody looked up at her with confusion in his wide eyes, she tried to stop. But the pull was too strong, and she took a quick side-to-side step.

“Mom?” Cody’s voice was clear and strong, and she snapped to attention, noticing that the doctor had even halted his charting.

“Yes?”

“Are you all right?”

“Yes.” Her second response sounded more like a question than the first, so she cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m fine. Everything’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.” Cody wasn’t being disrespectful or snide. He was just stating the fact, and it tore at her chest. He was so innocent, and she wanted to keep him that way. But she couldn’t deny that someone had shot Zach, or that that meant everything was very much not okay.

Combing his hair with her fingers, she tried for a smile, but her mouth seemed to have forgotten how to shape it. “You’re right, buddy. I’m scared.”

He was aiming for you.

Zach’s words rang in her head, terrifying and true.

“Not me.”

Dr. Guthrie smiled as he pulled his stethoscope from around his neck. “You’re pretty brave.”

“Don’t need to be.” A smirk fell across Cody’s face. “Zach promised he’d take care of us.”

Zach.

He had the skills and training to protect them, and he cared about their safety. But even a SEAL could be brought down by a bullet.

Any man could be.

In an instant, she was back on the ranch while a uniformed officer, holding his hat in both hands, said, “I’m so sorry, ma’am.”

“Sorry?” She nearly choked on the word.

Cops didn’t come to your front door when the cows got loose. Still...she hoped. She prayed. “We’ve fixed that fence a half-dozen times. Silly cows. We’ll get them rounded up.”

“It’s not your cows, ma’am.”

Her mouth went dry, a fist in her chest twisting everything inside. She could only shake her head.

The cop’s face crumpled. “It’s Aaron.”

She put up both hands as though she could stop him from breaking her heart. “Don’t. Don’t say it.”

He didn’t comply. “I’m sorry to have to tell you, he’s been killed.”

Ice covered her until she was too frozen to even shiver.

“He was shot at the gas station.”

She hadn’t even been able to cry. Instead, she’d sunk to the floor and blacked out. The rest of that day had been a complete blank, not a single memory of her mother-in-law arriving and caring for Cody. Not the endless cups of tea pushed into her hands.

But when she staggered out from that stupor, her nightstand had been full of empty mugs, her bed turned into a cocoon of wool blankets.

She’d dressed in black and held Cody close as Aaron’s casket was lowered into the ground.

It had been a fluke. People didn’t just walk around and get shot. She understood that.

At least she thought she did.

But now her second husband had been shot, too. And men died from bullet wounds.

She wrapped her arms around her middle, trying to keep her mind from wandering down the hall to the ER, to where Zach was being treated for his wounds. The ER doctor had been very firm. She and Cody couldn’t go with Zach while he had his procedure, so she might as well take Cody in to see his cardiologist while Zach was being taken care of.

Only she couldn’t seem to focus on Dr. Guthrie’s words as he jotted notes into Cody’s chart.

“Mrs. McCloud?” The doctor sounded like he’d called her name several times, but she still jumped when his words broke through her consciousness.

“Yes? Yes.”

Dr. Guthrie pointed at Cody. “How many hours a night is he sleeping?”

“About ten or eleven.” She bit her lip, hoping that didn’t mean more bad news. At his frown, she hesitated to add more, but it had to be said. “And napping three to four hours throughout the day.”

He nodded, scribbled more and pinched his nose. “Well, young man, your oxygen levels are getting lower, which is making you pretty sleepy.”

Even now, Cody’s eyes drooped, as if the effort of remaining upright on the exam table was just too much.

“What can we do?” She sounded defeated already. And she hated it.

Except...well, this was her son, her only child, her last connection to Aaron. She couldn’t lose him. But as long as someone was trying to kill her, she would be distracted from Cody’s needs, always wondering when Jackson Cole’s lackey would pop up again.

It wasn’t fair.

None of this was fair.

She grabbed for a tissue from the box sitting on the blue counter but had to physically restrain herself from picking up the whole box and chucking it at the wall.

Dabbing her eyes, she squared her shoulders and tried to keep her focus squarely on Cody’s care. “What can we do?”

“I want you to talk with the transplant coordinator again. You know Denise Engle.” It wasn’t really a question, but Kristi nodded all the same. “Just make sure that you have everything in place if a match becomes available.”

“Am I at the top of the list yet?” Cody asked. Kristi grabbed at his pointy shoulder to shush him. Cody sounded far too excited. Especially when she and the doctor both understood that his best day would be someone else’s worst.

“I’m afraid not,” Guthrie said. “But you’re getting close. For now, you can stay at home, but...”

She knew that but. If Cody’s condition continued to deteriorate, he’d need to be admitted until his transplant. Dr. Guthrie had warned her of that during their first appointment.

He’d have to leave his car models and his quiet room and his very cool night-light. And he’d probably miss most of the Christmas season.

Cody would hate it.

So she shook her head at the doctor. “Please. There must be something we can do.”

He nodded slowly. “For now we’re going to set you up with a portable oxygen tank.” As he wrote a quick note on his prescription pad, he directed her to a medical supply store. “I want him to use this all day and at night.” Turning his attention to Cody, he motioned long, narrow fingers toward his nose. “The oxygen will help you feel more awake, and it’ll come through a tube that fits over your ears and right into your nose. Think you can keep it on all day?”

Cody shrugged. “I guess.”

“You mean, ‘Yes, sir,’” Kristi corrected.

Ducking his head in chagrin, Cody agreed. “Yes, sir.”

Dr. Guthrie leaned in, a soft smile on his usually firm face. “If you have a hard time with it at first, take it out for five minutes every hour until you’re used to it.”

Suddenly Cody’s face lit up, and Kristi had a feeling it had nothing to do with the doctor’s five-minute reprieve.

“Zach!”

She spun so fast that her neck popped, but she hardly noticed when her gaze settled on the broad form leaning against the exam room doorjamb. His hazel eyes were bright and alert, and some of the color that had drained from his lips had returned. But his left arm was in a black sling, held tight against his body.

She sailed across the room, and before she could even process her own intent, she’d thrown her arms around his waist. It seemed to release a burst of a chuckle, which ended on a soft groan.

“Oh!” She jumped back in time to see him physically working to relax the lines around his mouth. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you? What are you doing here? We were going to go to the ER right—” She waved toward the doctor. “We were going to go find you as soon as we were done.”

He managed a strained smile. “No need. They patched me up and gave me some fluids and sent me on my way.”

Dr. Guthrie eyed Zach with a heavy dollop of suspicion but said nothing. It didn’t help the knot in her stomach. Zach swayed just a bit, and she almost grabbed for him before he leaned his good shoulder against the door frame.

His gaze never moved from hers, but there was a flickering in his eyes, a moment where he wasn’t as focused as he wanted her to believe he was.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“I’m not.” Little lines took up residence around his eyes, even though the rest of his face didn’t move. “Better me than you.” His gaze traveled across the room. “Or Cody.”

Her stomach churned. Cody had been only a few inches away from that bullet. She’d come far too close to losing the person she loved most in the world, and her only response was a three-word prayer. Thank You, God.

But what would happen if Cole found his mark the next time and Cody lost her?


FIVE (#ue18fabd8-c6ef-5cb0-92ac-beb3fc2b5076)

“Good morning.”

Zach thought the greeting was innocuous enough, but Kristi still fumbled her coffee cup. He jumped out of the way just in time, letting the steaming joe slosh to the dark gray tile of the kitchen floor.

This wasn’t the first time she’d dropped her coffee in his presence. Apparently he had quite the effect on her coffee-drinking habits.

But he couldn’t be the only reason she was now trembling. Not after the shooting that had taken place just three days before.

“I’m sorry.” Leaning her hand against the counter, she hung her head, presumably so she didn’t have to look him in the eye.

“You thinking about Jackson Cole?”

This brought forth a Bambi stare—all big eyes and innocence—from beneath the fringe of her bangs. “All the time.”

He moved to pat her shoulder, to offer whatever comfort he could, but stopped just short of her threadbare blue robe.

“Listen, we’re going to get through this.”

“How do you know? You don’t know that! You don’t know what’s going to happen. You can’t control it. I mean—look at you.”

True. His arm was in a sling, and his shoulder felt like it was on fire, especially after the pain medications from the ER had worn off. But he wasn’t going to let that stop him from standing by her side.

From standing between her and Cole.

When the urge hit him again to reach for her, he didn’t deny it. Running a hand down her arm, he squeezed her elbow. “We’ll make it through together.”

Suddenly she ripped her arm out of his grip, and the voice that emerged sounded wholly unlike her. Fire sizzled in her eyes. “Aaron used to say that.”

His heart slammed against his breastbone at the agony in her words. He’d felt pain before at the loss of his best friend. But this was new. It wasn’t the stinging reminder of Aaron and their summers running barefoot by the creek. It wasn’t the missed stories they had yet to share or the shared past they’d rehashed a hundred times.

This was different. It wasn’t his own grief that kicked him in the chest.

He ached for Kristi. His heart broke because hers did.

And he could offer only impotent promises about things he couldn’t control. After all, she was right to remind him that he couldn’t stop a bullet, that he couldn’t control Cole, especially when he still hadn’t been found. The cops had searched the hospital grounds, and the crime scene unit had hunted out any evidence. And they’d come up with nothing.

Which didn’t make any sense. If the shooter was able to get away without leaving a trace, he had to know what he was doing. So how had he missed Kristi by almost two feet?

“We’re—”

She whipped up her hand to cut him off. “Please. Don’t.”

“All right.” He wasn’t exactly sure what he was agreeing to, but it was certainly something she felt strongly about, so he was willing to comply. “What...what can I do?”

Her gaze swung toward the living room, where Cody’s Corvette blanket hung over the arm of the couch, the little boy intent on a TV show about two guys who fixed up rusted-out muscle cars and resold them for more money than Zach earned in a year. The little man was either engrossed in it or he had sacked out for another nap.

“I’m scared.” Her words were barely a breath, and he wasn’t entirely sure she’d meant to speak them. Yet they tugged at the part of his heart that demanded he be honest with her.

“I am, too.”

She spun to look into his face. “You are?”

“Of course. I got shot.”

Just as he’d hoped she would, she let out a little laugh. Then she clamped a hand over her mouth as though she wasn’t quite sure it was okay to laugh at his injury.

Better laughter than tears, he’d always thought. So he joined her.

“We’re in the middle of something serious, and we have to find Jackson Cole before he strikes again.” He shrugged his good shoulder, careful to keep the other unmoved. “As much as I hate to say it, I’m not at full capacity.”




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