Presumed Dead. Angela Ruth Strong
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href="#ulink_66b80169-86cc-5059-ae37-997a4ff0d052"> FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
Preston Tyler lowered his feet from the deck railing and leaned forward as his gaze followed the Jeep pulling up next to the Fontaines’ cabin across the lake. Though he’d been forced to hide out in his own family cabin for four years since being pronounced “dead” by the military, nobody had stayed at his childhood sweetheart’s cabin at all.
Of course, he’d heard Holly had just canceled her wedding to Caleb Brooks. Maybe she needed a place to heal.
Preston should have considered the possibility and gone camping at Yosemite or headed to San Francisco to catch a Giants game. Honestly, a vacation in the Tenderloin District would have been better than seeing the woman he’d once loved mourn the loss of another man.
So, he wouldn’t look. Preston inhaled deeply as he stood. Well, maybe he’d take one peek to see if it was even her. And if it was, he’d head inside until she left.
A lanky male frame climbed out of the driver’s seat of the Jeep. Holly’s dad? Brother?
Preston ignored the traitorous twinge of disappointment. It was better this way. Unless her family was getting the cabin ready for her arrival...
He squinted against the blinding sun for a better look at the figure pulling luggage out of the rear gate on the navy blue Jeep Cherokee. Only one duffel bag, but the man left the back gate of the Jeep open as he focused on carrying it to the house.
A warning alarm rang in Preston’s head. He grabbed the binoculars he usually used when scouting for fish.
The dark man with a goatee retrieved a key from the top of the doorframe and looked around before cracking the door open. Not right. He wasn’t a Fontaine.
Preston tracked the man’s movement through the windows. There. In the bedroom. The stranger unzipped the duffel, looked at his watch and pressed a few buttons on a device that resembled an alarm clock.
Preston’s guts churned. He’d seen bombs before, but only in the military, never in a vacation home. Why would anybody want to blow up an old cabin? Should he call the police with an anonymous tip? Or was he imagining things?
The man ran back through the house, replaced the key, slammed the rear gate of his Jeep and jumped into the driver’s seat. Not good.
Preston ran a hand through his hair. He shouldn’t have been involved at all. But just because he was supposed to be dead didn’t mean he didn’t care about Holly’s family anymore. It meant he had to be discreet.
He lifted the binoculars again to get the license plate number of the SUV. Another vehicle crossed its path, blocking the license plate from view. Another vehicle? Headed toward the cabin? Preston raised the binoculars higher to get a look at the driver.
Holly.
She didn’t turn or respond as the other car passed. She must not have known the man or been expecting a package. Could the stranger have set a bomb for her?
Preston’s mind whirled with possible scenarios. Some ridiculous. Some disastrous. But the worst scenario would be the one where he stood by and watched while someone else got hurt. He’d made that mistake before.
No matter how badly he wanted to shake the dread that gripped his heart, he couldn’t deny the fact Holly’s life might be in danger. He’d have to jump onto his parents’ old Jet Ski and race what he suspected was a bomb. Keeping his life a secret wasn’t worth risking hers.
Preston dropped the binoculars and grabbed his keys. Adrenaline surged.
Maybe she wouldn’t recognize him after four years. Maybe she wouldn’t believe it was even him. Or maybe she’d be too traumatized by the coming explosion to get a good look at his face.
If he reached the cabin in time to save her.
* * *
Holly Fontaine kicked her shoes off and padded barefoot down the warm, smooth dock. As a child, she’d always dived right into the lake, but as a woman—specifically, a woman scorned—she had other plans.
She pulled the sparkling engagement ring from her pocket. What had she been thinking, accepting the gaudy thing in the first place? It wasn’t even her style. Caleb had insisted he’d paid a fortune for it and she deserved it. She’d made the mistake of listening to all her friends, who were so easily charmed by his expensive taste in jewelry, perfect smile and quick wink. They’d told her she wouldn’t ever heal from a past heartbreak if she didn’t move on. Now she had a second scar. Only this one wasn’t in her heart. It was from the knife in her back.
At least she’d come to a good place to heal. Though coming alone felt more like punishment than anything else. But how else was she going to learn to reconnect with God? He was the One she should have asked about Caleb in the first place rather than just assuming she was being given a second chance at love.
“You’re enough for me, Lord,” she said aloud. But did she believe it?
The smooth metal circle pinched between thumb and forefinger had offered promise. The promise of strong arms to hold her, as well as the promise of babies she could hold in her arms. A family. A place to belong. Now she was alone again.
She looked past the glittering diamond to the reflection of the sun off the water. Lake Tahoe brought back so many memories. Cliff diving. Capture the flag on Fannette Island. Fishing from Preston’s canoe.
Holly ran a hand through her new pixie haircut and sighed. Reminiscence was supposed to get her thoughts off the current pain, but instead it intensified the ache. Why was it that the good guys like Preston Tyler died serving their country while jerks like Caleb Brooks got to live it up?
She was done thinking about Caleb. She had to move on with her life. Again. And that meant getting rid of the ring.
Caleb had said he didn’t want it back, and she certainly didn’t want anything to do with it. Maybe in the future it would wash up onshore and become someone else’s symbol of commitment. Until then, it was her reminder of rejection.
Taking a deep breath of fresh mountain air, Holly cocked her arm and hurled the offensive piece of jewelry as far away as she could. It disappeared in the distance, and she didn’t even get the satisfaction of hearing it plink into the water over the roar of a Jet Ski.
Oh well. She’d done what she should have a long time ago. It was better to be alone than to be with someone who didn’t really love her. Even if it didn’t feel better.
The dock rocked beneath her feet from the WaveRunner heading her direction. Time to get back to solid