Shielding the tiny targe.., p.18
Shielding the Tiny Target, page 18
Miss Jenny patted her hand and ruffled Missy’s curls, then stood and stepped back into her sandals. “You make sure to be on time for the bonfire.”
“I will.” Ava nodded. “And, Miss Jenny, thank you.”
She smiled, then turned and walked away.
Ava watched the sun’s slow dip into the bay, fascinated, as always, by the swirl of colors reflected there. Miss Jenny’s words played over in her mind. Did she really want to spend the rest of her life alone but for Missy? Missy was her whole world, but the thought of having someone to share her life with, share her children with, to grow old with, had started to take hold now that she was finally free from her past.
But Jack was leaving.
“She’s really playing.” Jack leaned over the back of the bench to see the screen Missy was engrossed in.
She laughed at his surprise. “She can do anything on this thing. She plays games, takes pictures...and thankfully calls 911 in an emergency.”
“Big Earl.” Missy smiled up at her.
She ruffled Missy’s curls. “Yup. Every time we call 911, Big Earl comes.”
“And Fireman Jack,” she added.
“That’s right, Fireman Jack came last time.” But he wouldn’t anymore. She held back tears. “But we only call in an emergency, right?”
“Uh-huh.” But her attention had already returned to her game.
“That phone case is great.”
She forced a smile. “Hard to believe they make a case that’s even Missy-proof.”
He frowned. “Hopefully, there will be no more need for nine-one-one calls.”
A very unladylike snort blurted out before Ava could contain it. “Somehow I doubt that.”
Jack laughed, and Missy reached for his hand.
He sat beside Ava, keeping Missy’s hand in his.
“It’s not that she doesn’t listen. She actually listens really well most of the time, other than an occasional, typical-three-year-old tantrum—usually when she’s overtired. But, even though she’s kind of mature for her age, she doesn’t always know her limitations.” Great, now she was rambling because she had no idea what to say to him. It’s not like he was moving to another country or anything, and he could always hop on the Long Island Rail Road and come visit on his days off, but it wouldn’t be the same. She wanted so badly for him to stay, but his life was elsewhere, and his heart was still broken.
* * *
Ava looked great, her cheeks pink with sunburn from playing with Mischief on the beach all day. Waning sunlight reflected off her golden curls as the wind whipped strands of hair across her face. It was good to see her up and around again. Thankfully, he still held Missy’s hand in his, or he might not have resisted the urge to reach out and tuck the loose strands behind her ear.
If he were to be honest with himself, which he always tried to be, he’d have to say he’d miss this. A lot. As much as he loved the city, there was nothing like a barbecue on the beach at sunset with family and friends.
A few children still laughed and ran around the playground and along the beach. Seagulls screamed and dove, snatching whatever they could find. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the salty scent of the sea that had been part of his earliest childhood memories.
She watched him, tears shimmering in her eyes, and he dared to hope they were for him, that she wanted him to stay. “Are you ready for the bonfire?”
“Just about.” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat.
Ava smiled, and he was lost. Every argument he’d used to talk himself out of getting closer to her fled his mind. When he’d first met her, he’d been attracted to her, but she’d seemed so vulnerable, he’d wanted to take care of her. As time went on and he got to know her better, he realized that couldn’t be further from the truth, and he’d come to respect her, admire her, love her. He could admit it now, even if it had taken a while. But when he’d seen her in that swamp, injured, filthy, terrified, holding a killer in a choke hold to save his life, he’d gone over an edge there was no coming back from. She could have run, could have fled deeper into the swamp or hidden or just froze, but she didn’t. Instead, she’d stood up to her attacker, faced her fears head-on, found the courage to stand not only for herself and for Liam, but for him too.
“You ready?”
He looked up to find Ava in front of him, Mischief in her arms. “Huh?”
Mischief bounced up and down and yanked her hand away to clap. “S’mores!”
Ava held a hand out to him. “Need a hand?”
“Uh...” What had they been talking about? He shook his head in an effort to bring himself back to reality. Oh, right. The bonfire. “Sure.”
She frowned and tilted her head. “Everything okay?”
“Yes, uh, no, I mean...” He took her hand but remained where he was. “Ava, could you please sit with me for another moment?”
She glanced at Missy. “I can try, but there’s no guarantee.”
He laughed, and suddenly all of his inhibitions were swept away with the evening breeze. “It’ll just take a minute, I promise.”
Missy scrunched up her face. “S’mores.”
“Yup. But first, I have something for you.” He waited for Ava to sit, to settle Missy on her lap.
“Surprise?” Mischief grinned.
“Yes, but Mama first, okay?”
She nodded eagerly, bouncing her curls, so much like her mother’s, into her face.
“Thank you. For everything.” Ava held his gaze, and a blush crept up her cheeks, coloring them even redder than the sun had. “This was fun. I’m really glad we came.”
“Me too.” A small rush of pleasure shot through him, and he finally gave in and tucked the hair that had blown across her face behind her ear, then took her hand in his. “If someone had told me a few weeks ago I’d decide to stay in Seaport when my leave of absence was over, I’d have argued there was no way. And then I met you. And Mischief. And the thought of going back to the city leaves me feeling incomplete, like there’s a hole in my center that nothing can fill.”
Ava’s fingers fluttered to her mouth, and one tear tipped over. “But I thought...”
“I know. I thought too, but I guess we were both wrong.” He laughed. It had taken the thought of losing her to make him realize how much she meant to him, to realize being with her was worth the risk of losing her. And Missy, if Ava decided to walk away. But for now... “I love you, Ava, with everything in me. You and Missy both. I’ve decided to stay in Seaport, if you want that.”
“I do, Jack, so much, and I love you too, and I want more than anything for you to be happy. I don’t want to be the cause of you giving up what you love.”
“I won’t be giving it up.” He’d thought a lot about it, and Ava was right. He didn’t want to see Missy grow up in the city. He wanted her to grow up here, where he had, among family and friends. “I can continue with Seaport Fire and Rescue on a volunteer basis, but they have no paid firefighters. Neither do any of the surrounding towns. Hopefully, someday, that will change, but until it does, I’m going to commute.
“I want to buy a nice little house with a big yard and a garden and a white picket fence, right here in Seaport, and I want you and Missy to share it with me.”
Her tears flowed freely, as Jack slid to one knee and held out the ring he’d spent yesterday shopping for when he should have been packing. “Ava, will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she sobbed. “I will. I love you, Jack, with all of my heart.”
He slid the ring onto her finger, kissed her, then took Missy’s hand in his. “Honey, I don’t know if you understand what it means to get engaged.”
She looked at her mother, then returned her gaze to his and shook her head.
“Well, it’s like a promise to get married and to care for one another forever.”
“Are you gonna care for Mama?”
“I am, yes, and I’m going to care for you too.” He held out a delicate gold bracelet. “Would you like that?”
“You mean like a daddy, like Kiara has Big Earl?”
“Yes, just like that.”
“Yes!”
He clasped the bracelet onto her wrist, and she launched herself from Ava’s lap to throw her arms around his neck. He hugged her tight, held a hand out for Ava’s and pulled her into his embrace as well. And in that moment, his life was perfect. Well, almost...
“I like my surprise.” Missy studied the bracelet. “Shiny.”
“Yes, it is shiny, but that’s only part of your surprise.”
“More?”
“Yup, come with me.” He took one of Missy’s hands, and Ava took the other. Together, the three of them crossed the beach to a patch of grass where a small gated enclosure had been set up beneath the streetlights.
The instant she realized what was corralled in the enclosure, Mischief squealed, shrugged out of their grips and ran forward. “Puppies!”
Jack looked at Ava and grinned. “There’s one more thing I wanted to talk to you about.”
Ava laughed, and in that moment, his life was perfect.
* * *
If you enjoyed Shielding the Tiny Target, pick up this other thrilling story from Deena Alexander: Crime Scene Connection
Available now from Love Inspired Suspense!
Find more great reads at www.LoveInspired.com
Keep reading for an excerpt from Hidden Ranch Peril by Michelle Aleckson.
Dear Reader,
Thank you so much for sharing Jack and Ava’s story! I love flawed characters, whose internal conflicts are as unique and challenging as the danger they find themselves in.
One of the things both Jack and Ava struggle with is the ability to trust. They’ve both been hurt in the past and are having a difficult time learning to trust again. I think all of us go through trials in our lives that make it difficult to open up and trust one another, but as long as we continue to trust in God, I believe we can learn to trust others again.
I hope you’ve enjoyed sharing Jack and Ava’s journey as much as I enjoyed creating it. If you’d like to keep up with me, you can find me on Facebook at Facebook.com/DeenaAlexanderAuthor, and on Twitter at Twitter.com/DeenaAlexanderA.
Deena Alexander
WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK FROM
Courage. Danger. Faith.
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Hidden Ranch Peril
by Michelle Aleckson
ONE
At the sound of a gunshot, Talia Knowles ceased humming and pulled on the reins to keep Peaches from bolting. The palomino’s ears pricked up. She pawed the ground but stayed.
One shot could mean anything. Living in the remote Owyhee Mountains meant facing any number of pests where a gun came in handy. Rattlesnakes, rock chucks, coyotes.
A second shot sounded. Guess Aunt Sally wanted her to come in off the trail. Good thing she was on her way back already.
A third shot echoed off the barren rust-colored hills. Talia’s breath caught.
Their signal for danger.
Three shots meant run. Run to the neighboring ranch. Talia never questioned the plan when her aunt made it all those years ago, but now all she had were questions. How was she supposed to leave the only family she had left in the world? What danger was she running from? How would her aunt face it alone?
No. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t run away without knowing. She wasn’t a child anymore. She might be able to help.
“Let’s go see what’s going on, girl. But we have to be quiet. Aunt Sally will be ticked off that we’re not sticking to the plan.” Talia nudged the mare’s ribs. The saddle creaked as she braced her legs, and they were off. A hard gallop until they reached the crest of the hill. Talia slowed the mare with another tug on the reins and dismounted. Her boots kicked up dust as she skirted the sagebrush and led Peaches to a rock outcropping uphill from the Mustang Sally Ranch house and barns. She yanked her bird-watching binoculars from the saddlebag and crept behind the rocks. The chilly October air whistled through the peaks of stone and sent a shiver down Talia’s back despite the thick flannel shirt and puffer vest she wore.
Two unfamiliar black SUVs blocked the long driveway and entrance to the ranch. Way too shiny to be anyone from around here. Those were city vehicles. And two of them? Who had invaded their quiet valley in the Idaho Owyhees?
Aunt Sally stood on the porch in her dusty jeans and barn jacket, that stubborn unreadable face under her old cowgirl hat, and her rifle in her hands. Her voice carried on the wind. “I told you, the girl isn’t here. Hasn’t been here in years... I don’t know where she is.”
Were they talking about her? Girl? Talia was almost thirty. Nothing “girly” about that. And why would Sally lie about knowing her? She was the only one who really knew her.
Who were these men?
The deeper voice of the man facing away from Talia was impossible to catch.
Sally cocked the gun. “Go on now. She’s not here. And I’m not afraid to use this.” She pointed it at one of the men. As five others rushed at her, she fired her weapon. One of the men tackled her and wrenched the gun away. She kicked as another grabbed her legs. He flung her over his shoulder. Sally flailed and punched as he dragged her to the second SUV and threw her in.
Sally! Talia had to help her.
She dropped the binoculars, pitched her boot in the stirrups and then froze. How was she supposed to fight off six men?
Aunt Sally wanted her to run to the Jordan Creek Ranch. That’s why she fired off the three shots.
Yet how could she leave her?
Her aunt’s voice rang in her mind. No matter what, if you hear those shots, you run. Run to the JC Ranch. Got it?
Talia grabbed the pommel, hoisted herself up into the saddle, and had the horse moving before her other foot was braced into the stirrup. “Hee-yah. Go, girl!”
As she raced across the desert away from her childhood home, the red hills sped by. Talia leaned farther over the saddle, urging Peaches to go faster. They followed the creek trail. The one she’d just taken for her morning ride to enjoy the clear cerulean sky, the crispness of fall finally in the air with the spicy hint of sage. Now she galloped at a breakneck speed, focused only on the trail and staying in the saddle.
She and Sally had always loved the seclusion out here. But, man, what Talia wouldn’t do in this moment for some closer neighbors.
The galloping hoofbeats matched the thundering pulse in her head. Three shots. Run for safety.
But then what?
Help. She needed to get help for Sally.
Wonder if this had anything to do with the weird phone call she received from Aunt Sally yesterday. She said she wanted to talk to Talia about something. Something she didn’t want to discuss over the phone. But the late foaling of one of her patients meant Talia didn’t get to the ranch until her aunt was in bed last night. And the early morning ride had her out before the sun came up, cell phone left behind, useless as it was with such little reception out here in the wild hills.
After all those years of safety evacuation plans Aunt Sally drilled into her, they were executing Plan Number Twenty-Three. Talia didn’t even live on the ranch anymore, having her own cottage in Orchard Springs, an hour away, closer to her practice and most of her patients. But that plan they made so long ago was the only thing holding her together now.
Guess the plans weren’t simply a way to make an anxious kid feel secure, but Aunt Sally’s way of helping Talia know what to do in certain situations where most people figured it out naturally.
She might not know what to do, but the Polecheski brothers would. She just had to get to their ranch.
Talia gave Peaches another nudge. “Run, girl!”
Both horse and rider were gasping for air by the time Talia jumped from the saddle and ran to the main Jordan Creek barn.
It was quiet, though. Too quiet for a busy horse and cattle ranch in the late morning hours. Where were the brothers? The hands? Anyone?
After the bright sunlight, she couldn’t see in the dim barn. Time was running out. “Hello?”
As her eyes adjusted, an unknown yet striking face poked out of the last stall. She strode up to him. He had dark eyes, dark stubble across a strong jaw, a black cowboy hat, and a dirty plaid shirt stretched across broad shoulders. The man leaned on a pitchfork and, now that she got a better look, there was something strangely familiar in his dimpled smile. “Can I help you?”
“Where are Beau and Rob?”
“At an auction. Most of the other hands are with them. Are you okay?”
They weren’t here? Talia bent over, hands on her knees, and tried to catch her breath. All that and only some stranger here to help Sally? She stood, hands on her mouth, and paced.
Think. Where was the closest help?
“Ma’am?”
“It’s not ma’am. It’s Talia. And, yes, I need help.” The last word escaped as more of a squeak.
“Talia. Talia Knowles?”
She stopped and looked again. “Yes, I’m Talia Knowles. Who are you?”
“I’m Noah Landers. I’ve been looking for you for the last seven months.”
* * *
“Noah Landers? How do you know me?”
Her question resounded through the barn.
