Well, a ten-day honeymoon and a four-day trip to Disneyland.
Jeannette’s idea.
He’d much rather have two full weeks in a tropical paradise with just the two of them—yet he loved her even more for her unselfish gesture.
As did Molly.
He pushed through the sliding door, his cell pinging with a text as he joined Jeannette.
She motioned toward it. “Are you going to check that?”
“I’d rather ignore it.” The longer he could keep reality at bay, the better.
“It may be from the airline. Could be a departure time change.”
If so, maybe they could carve out another few minutes here alone before the world impinged.
He pulled out his phone and skimmed the text. “It’s from Molly—via Thomma.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yes. She says, ‘I packed my suitcase for Disneyland. Me and Elisa are having fun. Toby is being good. I can’t wait to see Cinderella’s castle. I love you, Uncle Logan. You too, ’Nette.’”
Jeannette smiled. “She sounds happy—and excited.”
“Yes, she does. She’s a different child these days.”
“So is Elisa. She and Thomma seem to be on much better footing.” She slipped her arm around his waist, the rustle of palm fronds and the chirp of a myna bird the only sounds breaking the peaceful stillness. “It was kind of the Shabos to watch Molly while we were gone.”
“I know. Mariam is a wonderful nanny. And with all the inquiries she’s had from young parents, she won’t have any difficulty lining up more work once the girls start school next fall.”
“Thomma seems happier too, since he got that job at the high-end kennel in Coos Bay. Between that and the private dog-training clientele he’s developed, they’ve both found their niche.”
“A happy ending all around.” He tugged her into the circle of his arms.
“The best.” Her lips curved up.
His gaze dropped to them . . . and he dipped his head to— The phone pinged again.
Logan blew out a breath and closed his eyes.
“You better get it.” Laughter lurked behind her words.
“Yeah.”
Resigned, he pulled out his cell and skimmed the text. “Molly says she forgot to send us the photo Thomma snapped of the picture she drew.”
He clicked on the icon, and as the image filled the screen, he stopped breathing.
A woman with long dark tresses and a man with golden-brown hair were walking down a beach, a little girl with reddish locks between them. They were all holding hands, and a spotted dog trotted ahead of them.
They looked like a happy family.
And the icing on the cake?
The sky was bright blue.
“What is it, Logan?” Jeannette touched his arm.
He angled the cell toward her, not trusting himself to speak.
Her features softened as she examined it. “I love that she sees us like that.” She lifted her chin and studied him. “But there’s more to it, isn’t there?”
“Yes.” He swallowed past the lump in his throat and told her about the picture Molly had drawn months ago with the dark sky. “I prayed for it to turn blue.”
Her own eyes began to shimmer. “That’s what love can do. It chases away the dark clouds and turns gray skies to blue. Your love did that for me too.”
Blinking to clear his vision, he tapped in a quick response to Molly, pocketed his phone, and drew Jeannette toward him again, this woman who’d vowed to keep love at bay but who’d trusted him with her heart.
And he would never, ever betray that trust.
“Do you have any idea how much I love you?”
“No more than I love you.” She twined her arms around his neck. “I was hoping there’d be a flight delay so I could demonstrate.”
“Hold that thought for a few hours. In the meantime . . . let me give you a preview of what I have in store for you for the next, say, fifty or sixty years.”
He touched his mouth to hers, in a gentle kiss that he quickly deepened at her ardent response.
And as the world faded away . . . as he lost himself in her sweet embrace . . . one final, rational thought registered.
All those months ago, when he’d upended his world to accommodate a child, he’d known his life would never be the same again—and he’d assumed most of those changes wouldn’t be for the better.
But God did indeed work in mysterious ways.
For who would have predicted that all the upheaval of those early months with Molly would lead him to a woman who touched his heart as no one ever had? Who filled his world with unimagined joy and endless possibilities? Who had been exactly what he needed to find his own happy place?
And every day, for as long as he lived, he would thank the Almighty for guiding him to a little town on the Oregon coast with a name that had more than lived up to its promise.
“He got away.”
As the bad news echoed across the miles, I stared at the skeleton of the leaf-stripped tree beside me and tightened my grip on the burner phone.
“What do you mean, he got away? You told me this would be a piece of cake.” A cloud of breath formed in front of my face, the frigid December air pricking my cheeks.
Silence on the other end of the line.
My hired gun must be miffed by my accusatory tone.
Tough.
I’d paid a premium price for his specialized skills, and I expected results—not screwups.
“He fought back.” The man’s voice was measured, but an undercurrent of annoyance tightened his words.
The irritation went both ways.
“Of course he fought back.” I took a final drag on my cigarette, dug out one of the pieces of aluminum foil I always carried, and crushed the butt on the edge of the empty planter beside me. “He was in the army. I told you that.”
“You said he was a medic—and that he’s been out for several years.”
“He was . . . and he has been.”
“Then he does some serious workouts. I was fortunate to walk away with nothing worse than a bruised jaw.”
“You should have done more homework.”
“You didn’t give me the time.”
That was true.
And the fast turnaround had cost me extra.
“You’ll heal.” I began to pace. If the man was hoping for sympathy, he was out of luck. “I want this finished before he goes to the police.”
“If he was going to involve law enforcement, he’d have done so already . . . and I’d know about it.”
That was probably also true—assuming the guy had all the connections he’d claimed.
Another reason I’d paid top dollar for the job.
“Where is he now?”
“Unknown. He’s fallen off the radar. But I’ll find him.”
My stomach twisted into a hard knot, and I halted. “You think he realized he was set up?”
“His disappearing act would suggest that.”
“How fast can you track him down?”
“Depends on whether his evasive abilities are as well-honed as his fighting skills.”
I didn’t like the sound of that.
“Our agreement called for this to be finished by the end of the week. Do I have to bring in someone else?”