Christmas Haven. Hope White
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anyway?
He clicked on the radio to a country station. A song about lost love and regret filled the car. He punched the radio off.
During his tour in Iraq he’d faced off against insurgents, been shot at and nearly blown up a handful of times. But nothing made him feel as threatened as sitting next to Jules.
For some reason, being near her exposed his vulnerability like nothing else could. He felt as if he was going into battle without a flak jacket, weapons or common sense.
And he didn’t believe in coincidences.
What’s the message, Lord? What am I supposed to do with this situation?
He wished he could trust his heart to guide him.
Unfortunately, the woman sitting inches away had destroyed his heart. That’s probably why he couldn’t get close to Anna, and why he used his charming smile and jokes to keep people at a distance. He never let anyone inside. It wasn’t worth the risk.
Maybe running into Julie was his final test, his last challenge before being able to move on.
And he was so ready to move on.
TWO
The warmth of Morgan’s hand holding hers shot a sense of peace across her body as they lay in the grass overlooking Puget Sound. She closed her eyes, savoring this moment, wanting it to last forever.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
She turned to look into his blue-green eyes, filled with love and adoration.
“No, I’m perfect,” she whispered.
“That you are.” He leaned over and kissed her, his lips soft and gentle. Her heart tapped against her chest.
Love. This is what love feels like, she thought. She wanted to hang on to it. Forever.
Then it was gone, her lips suddenly chilled, her hands frigid.
She opened her eyes to an empty spot where Morgan had just been beside her.
“Morgan?”
A gunshot echoed across the water. She jumped to her feet and spun around to see Morgan fall to his knees, clutching his chest.
“Morgan!”
She rushed to him, gripping his shoulders, searching his eyes. They were coal-black, dead. He fell to the ground, blood staining his shirt.
“No!” A sob wracked her chest.
“Yes,” a voice said. Through tear-filled eyes she glanced up, struggling to focus on the man standing a few feet away. “And now it’s your turn.” BANG!
“No!” she screamed.
“Julie, wake up.”
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see past the shooter’s black eyes…Morgan’s lifeless eyes. Heartbreak ripped through her.
“Jules.” He pulled her against his chest. “Wake up.”
A choke-sob escaped her lips as she clung to his leather jacket, willing the images away.
“It’s okay. You’re home,” Morgan said.
Boy, did she feel home as she leaned into his solid chest and inhaled the scent of pine mixed with aftershave.
For a few seconds she basked in the feeling of security…of love. Then the flash of Morgan being shot, the life dimming from his eyes and the blood covering his shirt, shot a new wave of panic through her body.
“I shouldn’t have fallen asleep,” she said, breaking the embrace and casting a worried glance out the back window. They were at her mom’s.
“No one followed us,” Morgan offered as if reading her mind.
She whipped the car door open and charged up the driveway, needing to get away from him. The front door swung open and Mom opened her arms. Julie welcomed the gesture and held on tight.
“Hey, what’s all this?” her mom asked.
Julie couldn’t form words past the terror of her nightmare.
Morgan had been killed. Because of her.
It had only been a dream, but it felt real. She wouldn’t be responsible for the death of someone she cared about, especially not Morgan. Hadn’t she hurt him enough?
“Jules, what is it?” Mom pushed.
“I missed you.”
“Hey, Morgan,” Mom said over Julie’s shoulder.
“Mrs. Burns,” he greeted with concern in his voice.
“What did you do to my daughter?” she joked.
“She fell asleep in the truck and had a bad dream.”
Mom stroked Julie’s back. “Probably about work. Let’s get you some tea. Morgan, will you join us?”
“No,” Julie said, breaking the embrace, but keeping her eyes on her mom. “He’s got someplace to be.”
“Nonsense. I made chocolate-chip-bacon cookies especially for you, Chief,” she enticed.
“How could I say no to that?” Morgan handed Julie her backpack.
“Thanks.” She grabbed it, not making eye contact. “I’m going to wash up.”
“Oh, okay,” Mom said.
Julie rushed up the stairs, away from the nightmare, away from Morgan.
“French Vanilla or Earl Grey?” Mom called after her.
“You pick,” Julie said, not looking back. She couldn’t. The sight of Morgan, alive and well, standing in her hallway, would only send another wave of panic through her body.
She tossed her backpack onto the bed and padded into the bathroom. A splash of cold water would shock her out of the fright of the nightmare. Whenever she’d been awakened by a nightmare as a child, Mom would have her splash water on her cheeks. After a few seconds she and Mom would end up giggling at the mess she’d made, essentially blasting the nightmare’s effects to smithereens.
She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and splashed away. Two, three, four times. Studying her reflection in the mirror she whispered, “What am I doing here?”
The nightmare made her realize she could have brought trouble to her hometown, perhaps putting innocent people in danger. Her mom. Her sister.
“Morgan,” she whispered.
She’d never forgive herself if anything happened to him because of Julie’s job. She’d left him years ago to give him the freedom to live his life and follow his own dreams. She knew if she’d committed to a life with him that he’d follow her to Seattle and attend college or find a job. But that wasn’t his path.
His path had been to follow in his dad’s footsteps and become a cop.
“Enough,” she scolded herself. She had to stop thinking about the past and figure out a way to stay safe. To keep her family safe.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have come home,” she whispered.
But she desperately needed some time with Mom and Lana before she disappeared off the grid for good. She’d been careful to cover her tracks to prevent anyone from following her, so she’d spend a day or two here, crack her brightest smile and enjoy time spent with Mom, Lana…and Morgan.
No, being with Morgan wasn’t enjoyable. It was torture.
She closed her eyes, remembering the first part of her nightmare, the feel of his hand warming hers, the kiss…
“Stop,”