“But you never really let me into your heart, did you, Kate? It was always Danny. No man could stand up to the perfect ghost of your dead husband. Not even the man himself.”
The words startled her. She frowned as she said, “You proved that Jon Harper isn’t Danny.”
“He isn’t even Jon Harper,” Collin agreed.
“So, why would you say what you did?’
Collin shook his head, clearly regretting his words. “Because, as ridiculous as this all has been, you might be right. I think he really is your husband.”
“What?” Was he messing with her? “But you said his name was Justin something.”
“Justin Brown. Another of his aliases and probably the one that is going to get him killed. But who was he before he became Justin Brown?”
“You aren’t making any sense.” And yet he had her heart beating like a war drum in her chest. She felt light-headed. If he was saying what she thought he was...
“Earlier when I was at the bar, I got a call from a friend of mine who works at the police department down in Houston. He told me that Jon worked at the same refinery your husband did,” Collin explained and glanced at her as if knowing how this news was affecting her. “Quite the coincidence, huh? Apparently in the hospital, he had no memory of who he was before the explosion. But one of the other men in an adjacent bed said he recognized him and that his name was Justin Brown. So, when he left the hospital he was Justin Brown. Or was he?”
She leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes in an attempt to trap the tears. Was it possible that she hadn’t fallen in love with a stranger in some small Montana town? Instead, she’d fallen again for the man she’d been in love with for years. But it wasn’t until she saw him standing in that woodworking shop that she knew in her heart that against all the odds, she’d found him.
Now she’d lost him again. Worse, finding him could get him killed.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
KATE STARED OUT at the bleak landscape. The snow-packed pavement was indistinguishable from the sky overhead or the white fields on each side. She felt a deep need for color, bright, beautiful color, feeling as if she’d gone snow-blind. Earlier she’d seen some black cows, their backs blanketed with snow. She felt claustrophobic, hemmed in by the cold and the snow in this strange part of the world Collin had brought her to for all the wrong reasons.
There hadn’t even been any cows for miles. Now nothing broke the total white landscape except an occasional yellow No Passing Zone sign. There was no traffic, no houses, nothing since they’d driven through the town of Loring, which appeared to be nothing more than several empty buildings, a church and a post office with a few houses scattered around but no movement as if everyone was staying in until winter was over.
She wanted to ask Collin how much farther it was to the border. It felt as if they had been driving forever, headed north into colder, snowier country. But she didn’t, seeing how nervous he was. He gripped the wheel as if his life depended on it and looked directly ahead. Like him, she feared what might be waiting for them at the border.
As much as she cursed the day she’d met Collin Matthews, she realized with a pang that if she hadn’t come up here with him, she would never have seen Jon Harper standing in his woodworking shop. Never have looked into those brown eyes and seen Danny again. The memory filled her with sadness because now she had jeopardized both of their lives.
From a sudden break in the clouds, the sun appeared. In an instant, it turned the white landscape into sparkling ice crystals. The glare was blinding. She fished her sunglasses from her purse, stunned by the brilliance and the beauty. Just seeing the sun after all the days of nothing but falling snow or dull gray skies seemed to lift her spirits and gave her a strange sense of hope.
She reminded herself that this, whatever it was, had only just begun. She glanced at Collin, who’d also put on his sunglasses. He had the radio on again and was humming along with an old rock song on a station he’d managed to pick up. To someone who didn’t know him, he looked completely relaxed. He was definitely in control, his look said, of not just his own life—but hers and the people she loved.
Anger simmered, threatening to boil over. She hated his arrogance. He thought he knew her. A former suburban mom who’d only recently traded in her minivan for an SUV. He thought she was easy prey. And he’d been right.
But not anymore. She’d never had more to live for. Danny. It didn’t matter that Jon either didn’t know who he’d been or hadn’t admitted it because he wanted to protect her from his past. He’d made her realize that she could love again with all the intensity she had as a teenage girl. He’d reopened a part of her heart she’d closed off for twenty years. She’d thought that she loved Collin, but he was right, she probably would never have married him. She had sensed that something was wrong. Not just because he was pretending to be a man he wasn’t. She hadn’t felt the kind of love she should have.
Jon Harper had awakened her desire. A fire burned deep in her, a need that only one man could fulfill. That gave her strength. She would see him again. Or die trying.
Collin had underestimated her. Especially this past week when she’d been living in a fog. She knew she’d appeared weak and unsure of herself. Seeing Danny in the woodworker had been such a shock, and when he appeared not to know her...
Well, that was behind her. She had to snap out of it. Too much was at stake. She thought about their suitcases in the back. Had Collin brought a weapon? Would there be a vehicle search at the border? She had no idea. Just as she had no idea what they were picking up. Some kind of drugs, but what? Of course she knew about the opioid epidemic, but little about the actual drugs.
Spotting a cell tower ahead, she pulled out her phone and checked first to see if a person could bring firearms into Canada. Not without registering them. She had her doubts Collin would be doing that—if he had a weapon in his suitcase.
It didn’t take long on the browser to find out what drugs were being brought across the Canadian border into the States. A drug called fentanyl was all over the news. A super-strength synthetic opioid more powerful than heroin and one hundred times more powerful than morphine.
“What are you doing?” Collin asked suddenly.
She’d just clicked on an article about a drug bust of fentanyl from Canada into New York of over seventy pounds, with a street value of almost twenty-nine million dollars. “Educating myself,” she said.
Seventy pounds seemed like nothing. But then again, how would a person transport that much without it being discovered at the border crossing?
“Educating yourself?” he asked, sounding suspicious.
There was a long list of other products that were banned from being brought into Canada. Did they simply ask you if you’d brought something over? Or did they search your vehicle? She had no idea.