7

HE’D SPENT TWENTY-FOUR HOURS in a storm drain, and the hospital wasn’t even admitting Chet for observation. Despite dehydration and an elevated blood pressure, the guy had spent most of the past two hours charming the nurses, after he’d gotten off the phone with his girlfriend, Maren, back in Mercy Falls.

Ben stood outside the hospital, just needing some air. Night had fallen, and the clear sky held a scattering of stars and a waxen moon. Summer freedom, the smell of cut grass, and a hint of the heat of the day radiated off the parking lots, now puddled with overhead lights. A car drove by, its radio thumping out hip-hop.

Ben leaned back against a pole near the front doors, the cement cool on his back. Maybe he needed to be admitted for observation the way he couldn’t get the adrenaline out of his body. He just needed to breathe, let the fact that they’d found his father alive calm him.

It wasn’t too late to get his life back.

Call him crazy, but in this moment, more than anything, he just wanted to grab Kacey and find a preacher. Run away and spend a week holding on to her, reminding himself that his life hadn’t completely blown up right in front of his eyes.

“There you are.” Kacey came out through the sliding doors. “Audrey said you went to find some coffee.”

“The coffee shop is closed,” he said. “I just needed a break. My dad seems to not realize how close he came to dying.”

“He knows. It’s just his way of dealing with disaster—joke, pretend it didn’t happen, remind us that he’s invincible.”

Driven by the need to feel her arms around him, he pulled her into an embrace.

She came to him like a friend, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, laying her head on his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.”

He needed more than okay. He slid his hand to her cheek, caressed it, wanting her eyes to find his. But she backed up, looked down.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said, trying to reach out, draw her back in. “I couldn’t go through this without you.”

“I know. And like I said, I will always be here for you, Ben. That’s not going to change, ever.” When she lifted her head, her beautiful eyes had filled with an emotion he couldn’t place. “But I’m so mad at you for talking to Audrey without me. You should have waited. We should have done it together.”

He stared at her. “I don’t understand . . .”

“About us. Our future. You shouldn’t have involved her.”

He frowned at her. “You know?”

“Of course I know.” She shook her head. “How could I not know? We talked about it. Just never . . . I mean, I figured you thought we needed to be face to face. And we probably do—that was a good call. And yeah, I get wanting to explain it to Audrey, but not without me, Ben!”

He just stared at her, the words stripping a response from him. “What are you talking about?”

“What do you mean? What you said before. How you’re never at home, and your trips get longer and longer—”

“That’s why we have to do something about it. That’s why I planned this weekend!”

“Yeah. But you told Audrey before you even talked to me?”

Wow, had he pegged this one wrong. “Okay, yeah, maybe I should have talked to you first, but . . . she was so excited. She wanted to help plan everything . . . I’m sorry, babe. I thought you’d be, I dunno, surprised.”

She wore a sort of horror on her face. “What are you talking about? Why would Audrey want to help plan our breakup?”

His heart slammed into his ribs. “What?”

“You involved our daughter in the worst moment of our lives?”

He just stared at her, his breath hot in his chest. “You want to break up with me?”

She folded her arms. “Isn’t that . . . don’t you?”

“No!” He advanced on her, but she stepped back, so he stopped, cut his voice low. “I planned this weekend to elope with you. You were supposed to show up after my gig on Friday night. I had a preacher all lined up at this B & B outside Duck Lake. That’s why my dad was headed there—to make sure the preacher could stick around with the bad weather.”

Her eyes widened.

“I have the next four days off, and I wanted to spend them with you, as husband and wife.”

Silence. She drew in a shaky breath. Swallowed. “You planned on us eloping.”

“Yes.” He curled his hands around her arms. “I hated canceling our wedding in December. Every day that I spend away from you and Audrey eats a hole through me. I just thought, if we got married—”

“How does that solve any of our problems, Ben?”

His mind went blank.

She shrugged away from him. “You’d still be on the road, traveling all the time—”

“But we’d be married.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “And that means . . .”

“We could at least be together, for one.” He didn’t know why he’d led with that; he clearly needed to back up, start again.

“That’s what this is about? The fact that you—”

“No! Yes, maybe a little, but . . .” He came after her again, but she stepped away, held up her hand to stop him.

He took a breath to stop the rise of emotions. The last thing he needed was for some fan to catch him breaking up with his fiancée and leak it to TMZ. He schooled his voice, found the right words. “Listen. I want to marry you so we can be together, yes, but also so we can start building that family, that home that we talked about back when we were teenagers.”

Her jaw hardened. “I want that too. But even if we get married, it doesn’t solve the basic problems we have. Like you deciding what’s best for us.”

“What?”

“You just assumed I’d want to elope, Ben. Yes, I want to marry you too . . . more than you can imagine. But your life is . . . it’s all about you. It’s about your career, your music—even back to the day when you left Mercy Falls. You made a decision that changed our lives without even talking to me.”

Her words found the wounds in their past, and he flinched. The hurt roused something he’d thought he’d locked away. Forgotten. Heat slipped into his tone. “I made a decision? You were the one who decided to hide my own daughter from me for thirteen years, Kacey. Thirteen. I missed everything—her first smile, seeing her walk, her first lost tooth, helping her learn to read—I missed it all. You made that decision.”

Kacey recoiled, as if stung. But she rebounded like the soldier she was. “Yeah, well, you didn’t want us, remember?”

Huh? “No, I don’t remember that because I wanted you with everything inside me. You and Audrey. I thought you didn’t want me. I loved you, Kacey.” He cut his voice low, gravelly. “I still love you. There’s never been anyone for me but you, and you know it.”

A tear streaked down her face, and she wiped it away, her jaw so hard it seemed she might be breaking teeth. She closed her eyes, as if pained.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. He closed the gap between them, put his hands on her shoulders. “I love you, Kacey, and we found each other again. I don’t want to lose you. Or Audrey. Maybe I made a mistake in planning an elopement, but . . . please. Don’t break up with me. Let’s get married.”

She let out a shaky breath. Opened her eyes, and the agony in them unlatched his heart, dropped it down to his gut. “The real problem is that I don’t fit into your world, Ben. I’m not a glitzy, pretty, country music star wife. I fly choppers. I’m more comfortable in a jumpsuit than a dress and I just don’t clean up well. I don’t belong in your world. It’s too big for me—I’m just going to get lost.”

“You’re the most beautiful woman I know.” He caught her hair between two fingers, curled it behind her ear. “And you won’t get lost in my world—you’re the center of it.”

For a moment, she leaned into his touch, and he thought she’d changed her mind. Then she shook her head. “You are a master of charm, Ben King. That’s why you have so many fans who love you.”

“I just need the one. Or rather . . . the two.” Please.

The doors behind them opened, and Kacey looked up, past him, and in a second, her countenance changed. A bright smile, a quick wipe of her tears. “Hey, honey.”

Audrey was walking out with Chet, his arm around her shoulders. “We’re escaping,” she said and looked up at her grandfather with a conspiratorial expression. Then her gaze fell on Ben, and she raised an eyebrow, as if in expectation.

Oh, he couldn’t break her heart. Clearly, she had no idea the craziness stirring in her mother’s mind. So he smiled back, feeling like a liar. Or a charmer, like Kacey said. “I’ll get the truck.” He ran out into the parking lot.

“But your life is . . . it’s all about you.”

Shoot, maybe it was. But he didn’t know how to fix that. Not without giving up his career.

He climbed into the truck, Kacey’s words sinking in. “You didn’t want us, remember?”

He did want them. With every cell inside of him.

But he wanted the music too.

He pulled up to the circle drive of the hospital and got out, and by the time he came around, Kacey was climbing into the backseat with Audrey. He held the door open for his dad.

“I don’t need any help,” Chet said. “I’m going to be just fine. I just need a burger and a good night’s sleep.”

Kacey laughed, something forced, for Audrey.

Ben dragged up a grin.

But maybe he should just be glad that someone would be okay. Because he wasn’t sure how he’d live through the wreckage of this particular storm.

Ty didn’t need saving. Or protecting. Not from Brette. He ran down the path from the apple orchard, toward the Marshall family farmhouse, watching as Brette entered through the back porch, letting the door slam behind her.

He slowed to a quick walk, not wanting to come blazing in on her heels like he might be a stalker.

“You deserve a woman who won’t die in your arms.”

For a blinding, raw second, he saw in his mind’s eye exactly what that might look like. Brette in a hospital bed, him by her side, trying to be stoic as the life waned from her body.

Yeah, he could agree that he didn’t know if he had the strength for that either. But maybe by the time they got there—if they got there—he would.

He refused to make a decision today based on a fear of tomorrow.

Or, rather, to let her make the decision, regardless of her words.

Because he wasn’t dreaming the way she’d surrendered into his arms. How she had, for a moment, fit perfectly, kissing him as if she’d missed him just as desperately.

Brette. He could still taste her, smell the fragrance of her skin, her hair, and with everything inside him he wanted to chase her down and tell her that no, he wasn’t going to let her fears keep him from showing up in her life, now or . . . well, maybe forever.

He stalked into the house and found the main room quiet, the kitchen area dark, only a light over the table illuminated. Garrett was bracing himself over the map spread out over the table. His dark eyes roved over the possibilities, the nooks and crannies where a group of high school students might be hiding.

Garrett looked up when Ty came into the room. With dark hair, graying at the edges, and the faintest stubble of gray-white beard, he reminded Ty of an older Liam Neeson, including the stern expression.

“Did you see Brette come in?” Ty said, feeling like a high school kid being dressed down by a ruffled father.

“She headed up the stairs,” Garrett said. Returned to looking at the map.

Shoot.

Ty walked over to the map, noticed that the cookies and salt and pepper shakers had been replaced with Monopoly pieces, and the tornado’s path etched in with marker.

“You should get to bed,” Ty said to Garrett. “You need your sleep.”

Garrett looked up at him, frowned. “Even if I tried, I won’t sleep until my son is safely at home.”

Oh boy. Ty had been on the dark side of SAR enough to know that sometimes body recovery was all they could hope for.

He kept that to himself. “Agreed. Still, you need to get enough food and rest or you’ll be in jeopardy too. We’re not going anywhere until we find Creed, I promise.”

Ty didn’t know why those last words spilled out—he couldn’t vouch for the rest of the team. But seeing the look on Garrett’s face, yeah, Ty made that promise with every cell in his body.

Garrett blew out a breath, leaned forward, and ran his hands down his face. He walked over to the window, staring out at the porch. “Creed hated it here when he first arrived.”

Ty frowned.

“He came from a pretty tough neighborhood in Minneapolis, and when our pastor called and asked if we would be willing to take him . . .” Garrett shook his head. “Jenny said yes almost immediately. She just knew that he needed us, and frankly, we probably needed him.” He sighed. “I was looking forward to our empty nest, but Jenny said we had plenty of good parenting left in us, so . . .”

He curled a hand behind his neck. “Creed was so angry. He’d seen his brother shot right in front of his eyes, never knew his dad, and his mother . . . she just walked out of his life. He was ten. The last thing he wanted was a life out here on the farm, or us telling him that God loved him.”

Ty found himself joining Garrett at the window. He stared out into the darkness, at the stars glittering against the pane of the night.

“He absolutely refused to let us rescue him. Tried to run away twice before the local police brought him home. Got in fights at school. Started stealing from us.”

“What did you do?”

“Jenny just kept praying for him. Once, he threw one of her heirloom dishes across the room, and I wanted to end it. Just kick him out. But Jenny reminded me of my cowboy days in Montana, when my dad would break a horse. He was a whisperer . . . he’d work with the horse until it trusted him. Then he’d ease right up to the animal and climb onto his back. Sometimes the horse would buck at first. But once it got used to my dad, he’d obey him. He felt safe, and that was my dad’s trick. A horse bucks out of fear, and so did Creed.”

Ty glanced at him.

“He just wasn’t used to grace. Or mercy. It scared him—mostly because he was afraid of embracing it, only to lose it. He wanted to hold us far enough away that we couldn’t hurt him. Or worse, to figure out how to pay us back before he let us or God in.”

Garrett put his hands into his pockets. “We can’t bargain our way to God’s love. Even if we wanted to, God would say, I already love you. It’s done. The problem is that most people have pride in their own abilities, their strength, their ability to provide for themselves. They’ll give until they bleed, sacrifice everything, but reaching out to God—that’s too humiliating. We enter into salvation through the door of destitution. And Creed had too much pride to let that happen.”

Garrett offered a small, sad grin. “Sorry. Long days herding cattle with my dad made for theology lessons.”

But Ty couldn’t get Brette’s words out of his head. “The more I hope, the harder it will be when that hope dies.”

“How did you get him to realize that you meant it? That you loved him?”

“That was the hardest part. I wanted to shake him and tell him not to fight us, that we were on his side. But he’d been hurt, and he wasn’t letting us in, no way, no how. So we had to back off, let him see it at his own pace. Jenny just kept making cookies. I kept driving him back and forth to school. We just kept loving him. And one day, he just got it. Realized I wasn’t going anywhere, and that I loved him, period. I’ll never forget the day he asked if I’d adopt him.”

Garrett ran his thumb under his eye. “I said yes.” His breath tremored. “Creed is every bit my son as my other kids are. I love him and I can’t bear to think of him out there, injured or . . .”

“We’ll find him,” Ty said, his voice soft.

“We just kept loving him.”

Not unlike Chet had loved Ty, had stuck by him before, during, and after the accident.

Hadn’t blamed him for his colossal mistakes.

Had treated him like he still belonged on the team, even if Ty knew the truth.

Yes, grace was terrifying when you knew just how much you didn’t deserve it.

Garrett glanced at Ty. “I’m so grateful that you and your team are here, Ty. The Red Cross is sending a team in, so maybe tomorrow we’ll have more help, but you’ve been . . . well, you gave us hope when you found Chet and the middle schoolers.”

“It wasn’t just me.”

“I know. But you think on your feet well. The fact is, we’re all just trying to stay standing here. We can’t think, we can hardly breathe. We need someone like you and your friends to come in and give us what we don’t have—the energy to hope.”

Ty just stared at him.

“Even if we can be a little grumpy about it.” Garrett let one side of his face tweak up. “Maybe I’ll try and get some shut-eye.”

He pressed his hand on Ty’s shoulder as he turned away. “Turn off the light when you hit the sack.” He headed toward the stairs.

“We need someone like you . . .”

The front door opened, and Ty’s gaze went to the group entering.

Kacey. Ben. Audrey and . . . Chet.

The sight of his old boss nearly rendered Ty to tears, especially when Chet met him with a smile.

Ty crossed the room, holding out his hand to Chet.

“Not hardly,” Chet said and pulled him into an embrace. He seemed more fragile than Ty remembered, but he slapped his hand onto Ty’s back. “You did good, kid.”

Ty swallowed the burr in his throat, pulled away.

Kacey headed upstairs while Audrey made for the den.

Ben glanced at his dad, looking tired and defeated despite tonight’s somber victory. Yes, well, Ty got that.

“Let’s get you settled, Dad.”

Chet glanced again at Ty. “I always knew that keeping you around would pay off.”

The words settled in his chest as Chet followed Ben into the main floor den, just off the kitchen.

Ty stood there for a moment, then walked over to the map.

His gut said Creed was out there, still alive.

And his heart said that someday, Brette would stop running. And when she did, he’d be standing there, waiting.

Brette tried to convince herself that she hadn’t just repeated the worst mistake of her life.

Walking—no, running—away from Ty Remington.

She closed the door behind her and leaned back, closing her eyes. “I might deserve a man who would love me unconditionally, but you deserve a woman who won’t die in your arms.”

She leaned up from the door, flicked on the light, and noticed that someone had put a backpack at the end of the other twin bed. But no one was huddled under the covers, so, for now, she had a little privacy. Brette walked to the dresser and stared at herself in the mirror. Haggard face, deep wells under her eyes. Her hair stuck straight up where the wind had its way with it, and despite her best efforts, she looked practically skeletal.

In fact, without her prosthetic, she resembled a teenage boy more than a thirty-year-old woman.

She opened her duffel bag and pulled out an oversized blue T-shirt with the words “Middlebury College” on the front. Ragged and thin, the old shirt bore the texture of overwashed, soft cotton. She changed into it, leaving on her prosthetic, then, with her shirt on, she worked off the sculpted size Bs.

Her shirt fell flat against her barren chest, and for a moment, she simply stood there. Then, softly, she ran her hand down the emptiness, pulling the shirt tight against herself.

Yeah, full-on junior high boy. Her jaw tightened against the sting in her throat. For a moment, her thoughts ran back to Ty, in the orchard, his arms around her, pulling her close. She didn’t want to ask if he might sense the difference, the pillows of the prosthetic pressed against his chest instead of real body parts—that seemed way too intimate.

And that was where her thoughts caught. Because if she allowed Ty any further into her life, if she truly let her heart unwind into his embrace, and if he loved her back, then someday they might find themselves married.

Becoming man and wife.

And yes, she’d already sort of warned him of what the cancer stole from her, but in her mind, she saw him on their wedding night, realizing her words for the first time.

At best, trying to mask his horror.

At worst, well, he’d already said it once. “Oh my gosh, Brette, what happened to you?”

It was bad enough that she’d have to enter her marriage with the emotional scars Eason left on her soul. Baring her physical scars . . . well, she didn’t have enough screams, enough apples to expunge that.

Running remained her only option.

She was turning, the prosthetic in her hand, when the door opened.

Kacey Fairing stood in the frame.

Brette stared at her like a deer in the headlights, the offensive garment in her grip.

Kacey shut the door behind her. Met Brette’s gaze. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you were here.”

Brette dropped the prosthetic into the duffel bag. “It’s okay. I . . .” And then she didn’t know what to say because Kacey pressed a hand to her mouth as if trying not to cry.

“You okay?”

Kacey nodded, but her eyes filled.

“So that’s a no then.”

“I think I just made the biggest mistake of my entire life.”

“Really, you too?”

Kacey just stared, and Brette shrugged. “You’re in good company. I just walked away from Ty Remington again, one of the best guys I know.” She sighed, not sure why she’d shared that.

“And I just broke up with America’s sexiest man, or at least one of the top 100, according to People magazine.”

“You broke up with Ben King?”

Kacey crawled onto the bed and buried her face in her arms. “My daughter doesn’t know, so don’t say anything.”

Brette crossed her heart. “Why?”

Peeking up at her from her nested arms, Kacey said, “Because he’s one of America’s sexiest men, and I’m just . . . I’m . . . I don’t fit into his world.”

Brette sat on her bed. “He thinks you do. He moved to Montana to be with you.”

“And he’s on the road constantly. I miss him so much my bones ache, but . . . music is his life.”

“I thought you were his life. At least that’s the vibe I got from Gage and Ty.”

A sad smile lifted up the side of Kacey’s mouth. “I am. Or at least that’s what he said tonight. But . . . I thought he brought me here to break up with me.”

Brette frowned. “I’m not following you. I thought you said you broke up—”

“He wanted to elope. Begged me to marry him, tonight. I turned him down.”

Brette stared at her, an unnamed darkness roiling inside her. “Why?”

“Because . . . well, because . . .” Kacey blinked at her. “Because Ben is always planning our lives for us, and . . . okay, right now I’m not sure why!”

But the darkness stirring inside wouldn’t subside. “So, you’re saying that the man begged you to marry him and you said no?”

Kacey wore a stricken expression. She sat up. Nodded.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I’m just not tracking here. You have a perfect life. A beautiful daughter, you’re tall and beautiful and loved by a handsome, successful, romantic country star, and I quote, ‘the sexiest man alive,’ and you turn him down because he had the audacity to plan your elopement?”

Kacey’s mouth tightened.

Brette didn’t care if she might be offending her. “No. You don’t get to do that.” She stood up. “The world is full of people who have bigger-than-life problems, and you don’t get to take something perfect and throw it away.”

A frown creased Kacey’s face, but Brette was too far down the rails. “I’d give anything to have your problems. To have a career I loved, helping people, a beautiful daughter, that amazing long red hair, and a body that was . . . well, didn’t have a few essential parts carved out.”

Kacey swallowed.

“And especially to have a man who cared enough to chase after me, to . . .”

And there it was. The excruciating truth. Her voice turned low and bereft. “To be able to give the man you love—or want to love—all of yourself without horrifying him.” To add insult, her eyes filled.

Kacey hit her feet, took two strides over to Brette, and folded her into a hug.

Brette just stood there, not knowing what to do. What was with this PEAK team that thought they could invade her personal space?

But she didn’t move. Her body betrayed her, leaning in to the embrace, and yes, maybe she yearned to have a friend reach out to her.

Even if Kacey couldn’t possibly understand what she’d lost.

Kacey let her go. “When I came back from Afghanistan, I couldn’t sleep through the night. I had a bad case of PTSD and had to take meds to get any sleep. I was raw and angry and knew that if Ben got close enough, he’d see, and hear, some pretty ugly things. But I couldn’t stop him—see, Ben knew me before I was a wreck and loved me even more when I told him what I’d been through.”

She wiped a hand across her cheek. “You’re right. I am an idiot. And maybe Ben and my problems are minuscule compared to what other people—what you—have gone through. But I can guarantee you that Ty—and that’s who we’re talking about here, right?—is going to love you in whatever, uh, form you love him back in. He’s that kind of guy.”

Brette blinked hard against the heat in her eyes. “Yeah, I know.”

“Then—”

“I just . . .” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I feel disgusting. Ugly.”

Silence, and she finally looked at Kacey. Who simply nodded even as she stood there.

Huh?

“Nothing Ty, or any other guy, says will change that. You have to stop seeing yourself through the eyes of your disaster and start seeing the woman you’ve become. Our scars—my scars—are part of the beauty that makes us not only survivors, but beautiful. Stronger. Only then will you be able to accept Ty’s words.”

Brette didn’t feel beautiful, or strong. Still, she reached for Kacey’s words. She sighed. “I can’t face him.”

“Ty.”

She nodded. “I kissed him. Then ran away from him.”

Kacey sat on her bed. “I told Ben that he was the master of charm.”

“He is. I love his songs, and he has the most amazing voice.”

One side of Kacey’s mouth lifted up. “I know. He’s beloved by the whole world. The problem is, he doesn’t have room for two more in his life.”

Brette opened her mouth to argue—not sure why, because she certainly didn’t know what to say—when the door opened.

In a second, Kacey transformed, her face lighting with a smile. “Hey, honey. Did you get Grandpa settled?”

Audrey nodded, but she came in and sat down next to Kacey on the bed, her face in a snarl.

“What’s the matter?”

“I just don’t understand Dad. While we were down there, his manager texted and asked if Dad would be willing to go to Wisconsin for some country music festival. She said one of the acts backed out and Dad would get prime billing on the last night.”

Kacey put her arm around Audrey. “Your dad lost a lot of money in the destruction of his equipment and merchandise after the tornado. He’s just getting started with the insurance company, so my guess is that he needs the gig to fill in some of the gaps—”

“He’s leaving tomorrow, Mom.” Audrey looked stricken. “We had plans. I thought . . .”

Brette had to give Kacey points for her composure, probably the soldier in her, because Kacey framed her daughter’s face with her hands, her expression gentle. “Breathe, honey. It’ll be okay.”

“But you and Dad are supposed to be getting married. That’s why we’re here.”

Brette looked away, even as Kacey pulled Audrey into her arms. “Sometimes life just doesn’t work out the way we want it to,” she said softly. “But I promise, your dad and I love you. Everything is going to be okay.”

Brette’s gaze fell to her prosthetic, and Ty’s soft voice found her. “That’s what friends—more than friends—do. They stick around through life. They give each other someone to hold on to, someone to tell them that everything will be okay, even when it feels impossible.”

She closed her eyes and curled onto the bed.

The sooner she left, the better.

Except, for the first time ever, with everything inside her, she longed to stay.