

Table of Contents

Praise for Collette

Other Titles by Collette

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Coming Soon

About the Author

Praise for Collette Scott

" _Collette Scott has the ability to paint characters so real as to draw you into their lives. Not an easy book to put down once picked up."_

\- Lord David Prosser, author of The Queen's Envoy.

If We Dare to Dream

"If We Dare to Dream is captivating! Collette Scott delivers an emotional roller coaster ride of love, anger, guilt and suspense.... Addictive to the very end!"

\- KC Stone, author of Replaced by a Stranger.

"Wow! I have to say after reading _Forever Sunshine_ I didn't think I would read a book as well written as that again. Collette has done it again!... Collette writes so well that you can visualise what is happening in your head, as though seeing the action on TV or in a film, but better! I feel so privileged at being allowed to read this book before it has even officially been published."

\- Jeanzbookreadnreview.blogspot.com

Also by Collette Scott

Forever Sunshine

"...nothing in the twists and turns in Collette Scott's story is really expected. That's what makes it an exciting, unforgettable learning experience."

Betty Dravis, author of 1106 Grand Boulevard and Amazon Top Reviewer

"This author has found a way to take powerful subject matter and weave it into a love story in a way that I've only ever seen Nicholas Sparks be able to do well."

Linda Hawley, author of Dreams Unleashed

Hannah's Blessing

"When Forever Sunshine grabbed my heart, I couldn't wait to read something... anything else from Collette Scott. Her novels flow naturally, grabbing your attention from first page to lasts. She builds up her romances with growing suspense that will tease you with every turn of the page. Try and put it down once you start reading... I dare you... it's almost impossible."

KC Stone, author of Replaced by a Stranger

Titles by Collette

Forever Sunshine

Hannah's Blessing

If We Dare to Dream (The Evans Family, Book One)

Through Winter Skies (The Evans Family, Book Two)

Eyes on Tango (The Evans Family, Book Three)

Kat's Last Chance (The Evans Family, Book Four)

Terri's Gift (The Evans Family, Book Six)

Sunshine Rising (The Evans Family, Book Seven)

Hope is Calling (The Evans Domination, Book One)

A Blessing in Disguise (The Evans Domination, Book Two)

If We Dare to Dream

by

### Collette Scott

Copyright 2011 by Collette Scott

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

**Cover design by Laura J Miller** **  
** **www.anauthorsart.com**

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All rights reserved.

For information address Marimay Publishing, P.O. Box 11821, Tempe, AZ 85284

ISBN-13: 978-1466440692

ISBN - 10: 1466440694

Dedication

_This one is for Grandma Bush. All my love._

And for all our brave servicemen and women, may you be safe and happy. Thank you for everything you do.

### Prologue

April 2006

He was staring again.

Jamie felt the unmistakable pressure of someone watching her, and the weight of the stare was heavy and intent like someone preparing to devour a delicious dessert. It was disconcerting, for the presence just would not go away, and Jamie had no desire to be consumed. While in the past she may have found it flattering and even had expressed interest, those days were long gone now. Tonight was supposed to be just the girls. No men allowed.

Reaching for the beer bottle on the scratched and worn table, she raised it to her lips and peered over the neck to meet the stare head on. Just like before, as soon as she glanced at the shadowy corner table where the small group of people laughed with the loud influence of too many drinks, the shaded face glanced away guiltily. She set the bottle down slowly, her eyes remaining on him and a slight frown on her lips. Once again, she tried to make a point of letting him know in no uncertain terms that she was aware of his gaze and was not receptive.

Bar scenes had never appealed to Jamie, especially late night ones. Meeting people while under the influence of alcohol was always a mistake in her opinion, leading to regrets the next morning. Besides, she was not interested in meeting anyone. How could she when she sported the shining diamond of a two-carat solitaire engagement ring that Clay had given to her with a proposal for marriage just two weeks before? Nope, she was spoken for and happily at that.

"That guy staring again?"

Marissa followed Jamie's gaze to the man partially blocked by the group he was with. Seated at a table beyond the tall palm trees decorated with white lights that kindled a gentle glow in the darkness, his face was cast in shadow. Though Jamie's view was partially obstructed, she could see his tall companion, a young, dark-haired man who was eagerly chatting up two women. His body language spoke volumes as he leaned into them with one hand casually holding a bottle of beer and the other hovering just beyond the blonde's back waiting for the opportunity to touch her. It was obvious that he was hoping to close a deal that night. Their laughter carried across the thinning crowds; again, the type of laughter stemming from too much alcohol, overly enthusiastic and bordering on obnoxious.

"Yep," she said.

With a laugh, Marissa reached for Jamie's drink and downed the remaining beer in two strong gulps. When she set the empty bottle back on the table, she was grinning at Jamie.

"Want me to go over there and chat him up for you? I can tell him you're a lost cause."

She reached for Jamie's left hand and stared pointedly at her ring finger. Jamie pulled away and tucked her hand on her lap. Though she was not sure why, she suddenly felt slightly embarrassed. "No, it's okay. It's winding down, and it's been a long night. I think I may head out soon."

"What? Heading out? You can't leave, Jamie," said Rae. "This is our last time together before you leave us for good."

"I'm moving one state away, Rae," Jamie said wryly.

"But you're getting married. We'll never be able to hang out like this again."

Jamie shrugged. Rae was the consummate party girl; once she got started, she had a hard time stopping. Though Jamie loved her dearly, when the clock struck one, she was ready to go home.

The evening had been a long one already. They started with a celebratory sushi dinner in Scottsdale and then went dancing at a club in Tempe. Rae and Marissa had fully enjoyed themselves and had begged Jamie to stop off at their old hangout for one last drink before calling it a night. After their tour of the East Valley, they were closer to home - close but not quite there. Jamie still had to drive her car back to Clay's apartment while Rae and Marissa walked across the street to their complex. At this hour, she wished she still shared the three-bedroom condo the girls had roomed in for the last four years.

"One more shot for old-times sakes," Rae decided. She scooted back and stumbled slightly as she lurched off the scarred wooden stool. With a blasé giggle, she smiled at Marissa and Jamie and sashayed inside.

"Apparently, the bathroom is actually the bar," Marissa said drolly.

Jamie watched her go as well. "You do know I'm not having another shot."

"Of course. You have to drive. That's why I finished your beer. Here," she pushed her cup of water across the table, "take my water."

"Thanks. I'm going to miss having you look out for me, Issa."

Marissa's eyes suddenly welled with tears. With a well-manicured hand, she reached out and covered Jamie's. Her long nails cut into Jamie's palm. "Gosh Jamie, I wish you weren't leaving."

"I'll be home to visit," Jamie promised indulgently.

"Not often enough." She sat back and sniffled. "We always knew this would happen. We've grown up, we have our careers, and two of us have guys that love us. Next come babies and weddings. I just never realized that you would leave the Valley."

"It's a good job offer."

"Still... I thought we'd raise our kids together like family."

"We still can. It'll just be long distance unless something else comes up."

Jamie was rapidly growing tired of the same conversation she had shared with both of her best friends. Ever since she had made the announcement that she and Clay were moving to Las Vegas, Rae and Marissa had been very vocal about their dismay. They believed that she was marrying too quickly. After all, she had only known Clay six months. They also believed it was foolish to leave her tightknit family and move six hours away to the City of Sin. Their economy was not as strong as Phoenix's. And of course her family did not approve. None of Jamie's four older brothers particularly cared for any man Jamie had brought home to them, so she had long ago given up ever finding someone that would be good enough for their baby sister. Jamie had good-naturedly taken it all in even though her mind was made up, and Clay had already made the arrangements.

The fact was that she loved Marissa and Rae like the sisters she did not have. After all, they had been inseparable since their freshman year in high school. The three girls had enjoyed many adventures over the years, and Jamie sincerely hoped that they would continue to do so. However, she was also enchanted with the young lawyer she had met when he stumbled into her office to set up a Roth IRA. When he called her the next day and asked to take her out to dinner, she had not refused. They had been inseparable since, until now.

This first Saturday evening apart had been like a blast from the past. She and her friends had hit up the town like the old days. Nevertheless, Jamie was ready to go home to the man that had captured her heart.

"I'm going to settle up before Rae gets back," she announced, pushing away from her stool.

"All right... I'll catch her when she comes out of the bathroom, so she doesn't order another round."

Most likely due to the lateness of the hour and his eagerness to call it a night, their waiter had long ago disappeared without checking on their table. Taking it in stride, Jamie decided to pay at the bar. It was nearly deserted now that last call was a few minutes away, and only two couples and three men alone sat at various corners of the U-shaped counter. Too captivated by the large-screen televisions strategically placed around the outdoor patio, the men barely looked her way. She placed her elbows on the highly polished but scratched counter and leaned forward to catch the bartender's attention.

They had just made eye contact when a rough shove from behind threw Jamie into the hard wooden slab. With a startled gasp, she spun around with a sharp rebuke on her tongue but was forced to catch the girl instead as she unceremoniously toppled to the ground, knocking one of the heavy stools over and almost falling atop it had Jamie not been there to ease her fall. Sighing in frustration, Jamie glared down at her attacker. She noticed immediately that it was the red tube-topped girl from the watcher's table, and she was far more intoxicated than Jamie had assumed. Saved from falling face first, the girl landed askew on the floor with one flip flop under a bar stool, and her skirt dangerously high. She gazed up at Jamie with large brown eyes.

"I'm so sorry."

Jamie rolled her eyes. "It's okay. Let me help you up."

The girl's thankful look eased any remaining irritation, and with a hefty pull Jamie yanked her to her feet. Up close, Jamie noticed that the girl was pretty, young and dressed up for an evening out. Her dark hair was gently curled around her face, and her large brown eyes were covered with dark shadow. However, while Jamie's modest teal-blue top and long jeans gave off a neat but conservative appearance, the other girl's touch-me, ruched tube-top was low cut and form shaping, and her come-hither skirt was barely falling to mid-thigh. Yes, she was out for an evening of fun.

"I think I've overdone it a little," she said as she gripped the edge of the counter to steady herself.

Jamie kept a hand on her arm while she continued to sway. "Yeah, maybe time to call it a night."

"We need one more round before last call," she said, her voice slightly slurred.

Jamie did not envy the girl the hangover she would wake up with the next morning. It would be a doozy. Chances were that one last round would put her over the edge to blackout. Jamie was relieved that she would not have to deal with that – or her.

Knowing that the bartender was carefully watching them, she indicated with her hand for the girl to go first, silently hoping that he would hurry so she could pay up and leave. "You go ahead. I'm just settling up."

"Thanks so much; you're sweet."

Rather than responding, Jamie just nodded. The bartender was standing before them now, and his frown was not encouraging. "I can't serve you anything else tonight, Kit."

"C'mon Vic, I just need one more round."

He shook his head. "You're lucky they're not booting you out. Consider packing it up and going home."

Jamie had to agree. She wanted to do just that herself, but she was still waiting as Kit's lower lip protruded sullenly. When Vic's face remained unchanged and unmoved, the girl scowled.

"This is retarded," Kit said.

A new presence arrived at Jamie's side, and she turned to stare up into the palest brown eyes she had ever seen. Deep set and framed by long dark lashes, they were the color of warm honey, and currently they were dancing with unleashed amusement as they flickered between her and Kit. The man's dark hair and tanned complexion enhanced the light color of his eyes, made more striking by the humorous wide-eyed gaze he bestowed upon her. Though she was sure she had never seen this man before, Jamie was struck with a feeling of familiarity. After another moment of staring, it occurred to her. She was looking at the man who had watched her since their arrival.

No longer hidden in the shadows behind Kit and her two friends, the man was making himself known. She was suddenly amused as well, for all evening he had looked away whenever she caught him, and his newfound boldness was completely unexpected at this late hour. Yet he stood near her now, standing proud and tall without a trace of uncertainty in his pleasant appraisal, and Jamie was surprised at how good looking he really was. Tall and lean, his jeans hugged his long legs, and his tight T-shirt outlined the broad curve of his chest. On his forearm she noticed the dark outline of the US Army eagle tattoo. So, he was military, she thought. That would explain his well-groomed appearance and confident stance.

Though he stood close, it was not so close to make her feel invaded, and when he smiled it was a friendly and non-threatening curve to his lips that she found appealing. His boyishly handsome face was far more expressive than she could have imagined, and she had to fight back the urge to return his amused grin.

"Nice catch," he said, breaking the silence.

The deep timber of his voice seemed to match his classic features and well-built physique. In fact, everything about him was attractive in a GQish sort of way. Still held captive by his pale honey eyes, she almost did not turn when he indicated with his thumb toward Kit. The girl was leaning forward on her crossed arms in an effort to promote her cleavage. Again, Vic seemed unaffected.

Jamie nodded. "Yeah, time to call it a night."

"I tend to agree, though I actually came over here to offer you a drink."

His self-deprecating grin was a surprise. Instead of bristling, she relaxed her guard enough to smile back. "Sorry, but I'm just waiting to cash out."

"I suppose it's pretty late."

"When it gets to this hour, most people are either puking or passing out."

Looking pointedly at Kit, he chuckled. Again, it was a warm sound, and Jamie really liked it. Her smile grew as he nodded in agreement. "I agree completely. Luckily, I'm not drunk."

"I'm not either. I have to drive," she said with a wry smile.

"Me, too. Ah, the joys of being the designated driver. We get to watch everyone make a fool out of themselves."

Jamie nodded in sympathy. "Are you her DD then?"

The dark brows rose in surprise. "No, no, not at all. I don't even know her." He paused to search her face. "I was here with a group, but they seem to have all disappeared."

"Oh, I thought you were with her."

"Is that jealousy I detect?"

Jamie shook her head regretfully and held up her hand. The diamond sparkled between them. "I'm afraid not. I'm actually spoken for."

"Aren't all the hot ones?"

The mock consternation on his face was so beguiling that Jamie had to laugh. "You're quite the charmer..."

"Andrew."

Jamie nodded. "Andrew then."

"And you are?"

"Engaged," Jamie quipped.

He chuckled again as he held out a large hand. "Well Engaged, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Despite her best intentions of clearing out, Jamie could not resist his friendly smile and warm eyes. She placed her hand in his, surprised at the strength in his fingers which grasped her smaller palm. They shook, and he respectfully released her.

"Well, if you insist on leaving just when I finally get to talk to you, I vow to find you your check."

"That would be great," she said, surprising herself.

Returning their attention to Kit and Vic, Jamie noticed that while she was conversing with her new friend, the intoxicated girl had become increasingly difficult. Vic had made eye contact with the bouncer at that moment, and a man the size of a house was slowly making his way toward them.

Andrew noticed as well. "Maybe we should get out of the way first."

Jamie was about to nod when she felt Kit's hand on her shoulder. Just as she turned to see what the girl needed, she heard Kit's voice in a high squeak. "I'm going to be ..."

With lightning fast reflexes, Andrew's arm went around her waist, and she was hefted back against his broad chest with a startled squeak. It was just in time. Kit grabbed the bar stool and leaned over, emptying the contents of her stomach onto the concrete floor. As Jamie hastily danced away, Andrew's arm tightened, and he swung her behind him with a stealthy, fluid movement. The chivalrous way he placed himself between her and the girl so warmed her that she considered the gravity of her situation. For a second there, she felt as though she was flying through the air, and she liked him all the more for it. That told her that she needed to go – now.

"Thank you," she said breathlessly.

Releasing the grip around her waist, he glanced down at his splattered jeans and shrugged. Kit was still leaning over the barstool, so he took another safe step away before smiling down at Jamie again. "I'll accept if you tell me your real name."

Now indebted, Jamie did not hesitate. "Jamie."

Before he could respond, she spotted Marissa waving at her. "Jamie, we got our waiter!"

Hearing her friend's high pitched voice above the nearby shouts of disgust from Kit's illness, Jamie nodded back at her friends and then glanced up at the man who had so selflessly protected her from a rather large mess.

"I guess I'm good," she said, hating the disappointment that she was sure he could hear in her voice.

His forehead crinkled when he raised his brows hopefully in a look that reminded her of a growing puppy. "He's my waiter, too. Maybe I can grab him with you?"

After his gallant deed, Jamie did not have the heart to deny him. "Come on over."

Ignoring the mess and the now moaning girl, Andrew followed behind Jamie back to her table. Kit's friend was nowhere in sight, and neither, for that matter, was the group Andrew had said he was with. Kit had certainly created a scene, and Jamie almost did not blame the friends for making themselves scarce. Although she had a sense of guilt for not offering, she knew that the bar would call a cab for Kit – anything to get her out of there as fast as possible. That made it not her problem.

Meanwhile, Marissa and Rae had paid their bill and stood waiting for her, handbags over their shoulders. Jamie smiled as she approached. "If you girls are all set, you can go."

"And not say goodbye?" Marissa asked tearfully.

"This is it for a while, huh?" Rae did not seem any more reasonable at the moment.

"You know I'll call every week," Jamie reminded them.

Andrew stood silent, watching their exchange thoughtfully.

"Well, all right. I love you, Jamie. Good luck." Marissa grabbed Jamie and encased her in a giant bear hug. Rae followed right after.

"You girls be careful crossing the street," Jamie said softly. Her own eyes were growing damp amidst the awkward back patting and exaggerated sniffles.

"We'll be fine. Drive safely, and call me tomorrow as soon as you get there, okay?" Marissa said.

"I will," Jamie promised.

With another hug and promise to keep in touch, her best friends left arm in arm. Jamie watched them go, suddenly feeling bemused and nervous. While her new life lay ahead of her, at the moment, she was only aware that she would no longer be twenty-minutes away from them. Instead, it would be six hours at best.

Sighing softly, Jamie placed a twenty into the case the waiter dropped off at the table and watched as Andrew signed his slip. Despite his silence, Jamie was sure he had paid attention to their entire exchange. She felt awkward, but he remained quiet as she re-composed herself.

"So where are you off to?" Andrew finally asked.

"Home."

When he smiled his eyes lit up, even in the darkness of the outdoor lighting. She noticed the laughter lines that crinkled endearingly, and a long puckered scar that extended to his temple and beyond. Not finding it at all unattractive, she felt it gave his expressive face even more character. Seeing the direction of her stare, he ducked his chin and angled his face away. "I meant tomorrow. I got the impression that you're going somewhere?"

Somehow knowing it would be futile to fib, Jamie nodded. "I'm moving."

His face crumpled in a comical way. "To add insult to injury. First you're engaged, and now you're moving away."

"I'm sorry."

He shrugged, but his eyes were again dancing with amusement. "It's not your fault. It's mine - my timing is off. I should've met you a few years ago."

Jamie laughed. "If it was meant to be, it would have been."

"Very true. Well Jamie, it was great while it lasted." He smiled again, another eye crinkling one that caused her to smile back. "Maybe I can walk you out to your car?"

Jamie gathered her keys in her hand. As she pulled her jacket on, she studied him closely for any sign of ulterior motives. Sure he was a stranger, but it seemed pretty harmless to allow him to walk her to her car. The bouncers were standing outside, and she would be in plain view. "Fair enough. I'm flattered by all the attention."

"Good. You're far too pretty to be ignored... Besides, maybe I'm trying to persuade you to change your mind."

"Not gonna happen," she said with a laugh.

"I can still try." He was watching her humor with his dancing eyes. "Are you okay to drive?"

"I'm fine."

Standing side by side with him, she was again surprised by his height. Though at nearly five-foot-eight, she still only reached his chin. When they passed the bouncer, Andrew nodded politely, and Jamie noticed that even with his height, he moved with the stealthy ease of a panther. That, coupled with his obvious attraction to her, made her feel decidedly nervous and clumsy next to him. Knowing that he was observing her to make sure she was okay to drive, she concentrated on appearing as normal as possible despite the awkwardness of the situation.

"What are your cross streets?"

The question was unexpected, and she nearly stumbled when she paused to stare up at him. "What?"

"How far are you?"

She debated again about giving him too much information, but realized it could not really matter at this point. Come that afternoon, she would be back in her car and driving it to her new home. "I'm at Higley and Brown."

"Okay. I'm out in AJ. I'll stay behind you as long as I can. If you have any problems, just pull over."

Jamie nodded and opened the car door, though she was confused by his continued chivalry. After all, he already knew she was not inviting him home with her. People like him just did not exist anymore, not unless there was something in it for them to benefit from. However, Andrew seemed different, truly a man of honest intentions. She stared up at him as she climbed behind the wheel, searching his face for any sign of impending trouble. He stood close with his hand on her door, and when she reached for the handle he leaned in. However, he did not force himself upon her, and he continued to regard her with a mixture of interest and regret only.

"Jamie, it was really nice to meet you, although I wish it had been under different circumstances," he said with a self-critical grin. "Promise me you'll drive safe... and good luck with your move."

"Thank you for being such a gentleman," Jamie replied with what seemed to her a pathetic response.

With one last smile, he released the door and shut it securely. Jamie watched as he walked to a new, shiny black F150. Within seconds, his headlights were on and flashing her to go ahead. For the second time, she wondered if she was being foolish by allowing him to follow her, but again she shrugged it off just as quickly. She was in control of her vehicle and could drive him anywhere, including a police station.

Confident that he was a good guy, she drove to the exit and pulled out, checking her rearview mirror multiple times on her ride home. He followed her all the way to Brown Road, flashing his headlights one last time before making a right turn out of her life. As his headlights faded off into the night, Jamie felt suddenly lonely and alone. She had never met such a polite and respectful man at a bar before, and it was a shame that he was too late. If things had been different, she would have liked the chance to get to know him better.

Her development lay ahead on the left, so she put on her blinker and slowed. This was it; her last evening in Phoenix. Starting at noon she would be on the way to her new life. As she pulled into her covered spot, she glanced at the clock in her car before shutting it down for its final night in Arizona. The clock read 2 am.

### ***

The night had cooled, and a breeze was blowing through the open window straight toward her bed. Kit felt the cool air on her naked shoulders and shivered. She was tired, too tired to get up and shut the window. She would just have to deal.

Where was the duvet?

Still drunk and half asleep, she reached blindly for the duvet to offer her some warmth. Suddenly, it was draped over her by unseen hands, and she snuggled down deeper into sleep. Her stomach still roiled from all the alcohol she had consumed during the evening, and the taste of her vomit burned her throat. As she once again entered her stupor, she thought fleetingly of how terrible she would feel in the morning.

A warm hand encircled her waist and pulled her up against a hard chest. The body heat warmed her, and for a moment she snuggled up against the warmth.

Lips nuzzled the nape of her neck, and a hand covered her breast. After a moment of play, her tube top was gently pulled down. Once again, the hand was there, moving from one breast to the next. Several moments passed before Kit realized that this was all wrong.

She lived alone. She was not dating anyone. Who the hell was in bed with her?

As though sensing her return to consciousness, Kit heard a chuckle near her ear. It was a frightening sound, cold and malicious. Then everything happened so quickly that she had no time to react. Before she could scream, something was shoved into her mouth. When she attempted to remove it, hands grasped her wrists, and she was straddled by a very large, very strong body. It pushed her deeper into her mattress and pinned the duvet against her body. She could not kick out.

As both her hands were drawn over her head, she began to shake wildly. This could not be happening. Her eyes were wide, and she desperately tried to wiggle her hands free while her tongue wrestled with the gag. Then the cruel bite of a zip tie dug into her wrists. It was pulled tight, and the plastic cut painfully into her soft skin. While one hand pinned her hands above her head, the other hand reached beside her. She could feel his hand fumbling near her leg. Pinned as she was, panicked sounds escaped her throat. They were muffled by the gag in her mouth.

A rope appeared. It was wrapped around her bound wrists and then around the bedpost, securing her hands above the bed. When her attacker had secured it tightly, he sat back on her thighs and chuckled again.

"Let's play a game."

The voice was deep and slightly familiar. Through her alcohol drugged mind, she remembered a man she had spoken to before. Did he see her come home? Did she invite him in?

No, she never would have done that.

She vaguely remembered Vic and the bouncer getting her a cab. The cab brought her home. She was alone at the time. Going through the door was fuzzy, but she remembered being alone when she fell into bed.

Apparently, she had been followed at some point.

The heavy weight on her midsection was suddenly gone, and the cool breeze again reached her clammy skin as the duvet was pulled off her and bunched up on the other side of the bed. Rough and urgent hands grasped her thighs before she could kick out, and her thong was sawed off her by a previously unseen knife. As Kit watched on, it glinted in the moonlight. She knew then that she was about to be raped.

With a new sense of urgency, Kit began to fight in earnest. However, her bucking hips and kicking feet only served to irritate him, and his hands came up around her neck.

"Stop moving."

The threat was plain, but Kit could not stop. She was afraid, more frightened than she had ever been before in her life. She fought as hard as she could, aware of the biting sting of the zip ties as they cut her wrists, and the pressure of the hands around her neck. She wanted to scream, but the gag was in too far. She could not spit it out.

Frustrated with the continued fighting, the hands around her neck tightened even more. Her panicked moans were cut off, and she struggled for air in her deprived and burning lungs. Easing her struggles, she prayed that the pressure would ease. But it did not. Despite her submission, those hands kept squeezing in rage. Unable to take in any more air, her last struggles stopped and her grip on consciousness slipped away.

Kit's last coherent thought was of her mother.

As her eyes fluttered closed, she glimpsed the bright green numbers on her clock. It read 2:10 am.

### Chapter 1

Fall 2009

Hitting rock bottom for Jamie was almost like falling into a deep well from which there was no escape. The walls were smooth, and there were no hand holds. While she knew she could claw all she wanted to at the slick sides, there was no hope of reaching the top. Instead, she had to tread the murky, icy cold water until she was rescued or exhaustion took over and made her give in to oblivion.

At the moment, Jamie Morton, formally Evans, was in the process of being rescued. It could have been a welcome rescue if not for the "I told you so" looks that her rescuers threw her way. As the last of her belongings were pulled from the moving truck parked in the driveway of the large, five-bedroom house belonging to her oldest brother, each and every one of them glanced at her as they passed.

Far away from Vegas, her brother, Ford, had built his home up in the Red Mountain area of Mesa, and now all of her belongings were neatly stacked in one of the oversized garages on his property. She was suddenly a renter in his guest quarters until she re-established herself. That could not happen fast enough, she thought sullenly.

In all fairness, it really could be worse. The guest house at Ford's had a separate entrance and was more like a studio apartment than a spare bedroom. She had her own small kitchen and bath in addition to a spacious closet and dresser for her clothes. While she knew she should be thankful, instead she felt like a failure running home to the closest thing she still had to a parent. So much for independence.

"This is it," Ian announced, brushing his hands off on his jeans.

Four pairs of eyes stared at her expectantly. Again, she almost wished she was succumbing to the exhaustion. All four of her brothers were present, from Ford down to Ian. And all four had immediately stepped in to take control of her suddenly spiraling life, taking matters into their own hands while she cried herself to sleep every night.

Overprotective was an understatement.

Looking at them now, they were all so similar and yet so different. All of the Evans kids had their father's mahogany-colored hair and brown eyes. They were all tall and slender, including Jamie, with long limbs, graceful postures and expressive demeanors, and with a single glance she could determine what each was thinking.

The eldest, Ford, was the only one to show the signs of approaching middle age with a slight hunch to his broad shoulders, and a small spare tire around his waist. It suited his somber and formidable personality well. At that moment, Ford appeared exasperated, as though he was ready to lecture her again on the foolishness of running off and getting married so quickly only to run back home as soon as things took a turn for the worse.

Grady, the generous and practical one, argued both sides of each story. In one breath, he would tell Jamie that Ford was right, but in the next he would agree that she had done what she thought was best at the time.

The third and happy-go-lucky son, Hayden, cheerfully offered to put a hit out on Clay for disgracing his little sister so shamefully while his fists clenched by his side. As he did so, the youngest and most intense brother, Ian, glared at Hayden and threatened to arrest him if he did. Then he turned to Jamie and said that he would pull Clay over and give him the biggest ticket of his life if he ever saw him on the road during his shift again.

They were her brothers, and she loved them more than ever today.

Yet, the truth was that she was raw and hurting and hated being at their mercy. What they viewed as taking care of their baby sister, she saw as a constant reminder of her mistakes. She had valued her independence, and now she was back where she started from – under their thumbs and feeling like a total failure.

"Thanks, guys," she said softly.

Seeing the emotion rising on her face, Hayden placed his hands on his hips and grinned. "Work's done; let's eat!"

Ian nodded enthusiastically. "Good idea." He patted his very flat and toned stomach. "This big boy needs some steak. Hey, Ford, whatcha grilling?"

Ford shrugged. "If you can find it, you can cook it. I'm going to take a minute to straighten out a path to my workbench."

Jamie held back while her three other brothers disappeared inside to see what they could find. All three lanky figures marched with their inherited purposeful stride to the front door, eager to empty Ford's pantry. A line of hungry soldiers, their only differences from behind were their various hair styles and range of physique, with Ian being the burliest and Grady being the thinnest. When they disappeared from sight, she turned her attention to Ford. Her oldest brother had gone back into the garage that now contained her life, and after drumming up the confidence to follow, she headed across the paved driveway to thank him in private.

He was shifting a box away from his meticulously ordered and pristine work area when she stepped inside the garage. It had been custom fit with a workbench and tables, and tools of varying shapes, sizes and uses hung from clips neatly arranged upon the walls now hidden by her belongings.

"I'm sorry about all this," she said.

Glancing up, Ford stared at her for a few seconds and then straightened slowly. "Don't worry about it. Hayden just never listens to me when I tell him where to put things."

Jamie felt a smile. Hayden never listened to anyone. He was the free-spirit of the family. "That wasn't what I meant."

"There's nothing to apologize for. You belong with us. We're family."

"You have your own family. How will they feel when they get back, and your little sister is freeloading off of you."

"Don't be ridiculous. Isabel was going to fly back here to be with you. You would offend us more if you refused to stay here, Jamie."

The stern look he sent her way was a bitter reminder of how long it had taken her to confess to her brothers the state of her marriage. High profile clients, a fast lifestyle and too much pressure had turned Clay from the attentive man she had met shortly after college into an out of control fool. In customary Jamie style, she had stayed too long in the hopes of mothering him back to her, ignoring her inner voice that warned her to leave after a year of marriage. A divorcee, rapidly approaching thirty and starting a new job in a slow and bungling economy, Jamie was everything she had hoped she would _not_ be at her age. It was her worst nightmare, and she felt shame down to her inner being.

"Well, when you speak to Isabel next, please tell her I send my love and thanks, and tell her I promise not to stay too long. Just long enough for me to find my feet again."

Ford's hand came down on her shoulder, and he squeezed it gently. "You stay as long as you need to. I mean that."

Feeling emotional again, Jamie forced a laugh. Her vision blurred as the tears filled her eyes. "I guess this is when I say that I'm going to arrange my room for a little bit and make my graceful departure. Is that okay, or do you need any help out here?"

Ford shook his head. "Take all the time you need."

With trembling lips, Jamie spun on her heel and walked from the garage to the paved and floral landscaped path down to her new home. The door was still cracked open, and she could hear the air conditioning running. Oh Hayden, she thought, closing the heavy territorial-style door behind her. Though the desert heat had eased quite a bit, it was still warm during the day, and running the air with the door open was a total waste. She shook her head. Some things never changed.

Taking a quick sweep of the single cream colored room that was now hers, Jamie realized that one of her brothers, most likely Grady, had neatly stacked her suitcases in front of the door to the closet, and the box marked "bathroom" was resting on the sink down the short hall to the back of the quarters. Her kitchen utensils were lying haphazardly on the granite counter, and three of the cabinets were open as though someone had started putting her dishes away. The rest sat in the open box on the floor.

While she and Ian had driven her Volvo down from Vegas late in the morning, her other brothers had left with the truck at the crack of dawn. Apparently, they had tried to give her a helping hand by unpacking necessities since they had arrived two hours before her and Ian. The thought of their kindness made Jamie's tears spill over her lashes, and she sank to her bed and placed her face in her hands.

What had she done wrong?

Promising herself just a few moments of self-pity, Jamie curled into a ball and thought back over the years that had passed since she had first left the Valley. She should have known then that she was making a mistake. All the warning signs had been present.

First, her brothers warning her that Clay was not all that he seemed. While she had always had trouble introducing boys to her brothers in the past, this time, all four brothers, including open-minded Grady, had not made any effort to like Clay at all. She had disregarded their warnings, chalking it up to the words of overprotective siblings and behaved in typical Jamie manner by rebelling.

Then, during her final night out with Marissa and Rae, her two best friends emphatically warned her off Clay. Their wise words of not rushing into things and taking more time to get to know him had fallen on deaf ears. She had been so enraptured by his charm and subtle pressure to commit that she ignored their advice.

The largest and most frightening warning sign fell with the man she met that last night out. Three weeks after she had moved, Marissa had called to tell her that the girl who had nearly vomited all over her had been murdered in a rape gone wrong that night. While she had been a little frightened, when Marissa told her who was arrested for the crime Jamie felt as though the rug had been pulled from her feet. The man they had arrested was the very same man who had followed her home. That charming and friendly guy that she had let her guard down for, had even wanted to know more about, had been charged with the crime and now sat in prison convicted of murder.

Jamie still went cold as ice thinking about how close she could have been to being a victim herself. He had followed her almost to her development door. What would have happened if he had come closer? Could he have run her off the road in that big truck he had been driving? Had he given up because she was not intoxicated and went instead to someone he knew was? Whatever the case, she had learned a valuable lesson that night. No matter how good a judge of character she thought she was, she was wrong.

Embarrassed at how foolish she had behaved that night, she never told a soul how close she came. Not even Clay during their happier days. She never told, but she remembered. When Clay had proven that he was not all he seemed to be as well, it had cemented her inability to trust her instincts.

A knock on her door brought her back to the present. She sat up and wiped at her eyes, calling out to whichever brother it was to enter. The door swung open silently on well-greased hinges and revealed Ian. His close-cropped hair was glistening with drops of water, and he had changed from his shorts and T-shirt to a pair of swim trunks. Jamie grimaced when she noticed he was dripping on the travertine flooring. Brothers, she fumed.

"Don't you have a towel?"

Ian glanced down and then shrugged. "It's white. He'll never notice."

"But I will. Hold on."

She slid across the bed and hurried to the bathroom. Finding the box marked "linens," she pulled it open and tossed a towel back at him. He caught it in one hand and shook it open.

"So are you going to come and join us?"

"I just needed to be alone for a second...to take a look around and see what needs to be done."

His astute and observant gaze told her that he did not believe a word she said. "Whatever."

She raised her chin. "Well, I did need time. Having all you guys hovering over me all weekend has left me exhausted."

"You and me both," he muttered.

He padded over to the refrigerator and pulled it open. Ducking his head inside, he withdrew a moment later with two beers in his hand.

"Where did those come from?"

"Courtesy of Grady. Apparently, he insisted on hitting the grocery store before we got here. He didn't get a lot, but at least there's a few things to tide you over until you get a chance to go."

Twisting the tops off both, he handed one to Jamie and took a deep swig of his own. He pulled a chair out from the small dining table and sat down, the towel wrapped around his waist. Jamie held the cold bottle in her hand as yet another wave of emotion washed over her.

"Just beer?" She chuckled. "You guys are amazing, you know that?"

Ian's face was serious, but his eyes danced with mirth. "Of course."

They enjoyed their beer in silence for a few moments until Ian came to his feet. "So are you going to throw on a suit and enjoy the barbecue with us or what?"

Though she really just wanted to hide in her room, Jamie knew none of her brothers would accept that. After they had made the drive up to Vegas and then back again with all her belongings, she owed it to them to give proper thanks. If that meant a family dinner in Ford's beautiful back yard, well she was in no position to say no. "What's cooking?"

Ian's love of food was evident in the dreamy, faraway look he bore. "Sirloin tips and baked potatoes, plenty of beer to go around, and Hayden's found some chips in the pantry."

"Sounds like good times," she murmured.

"It will be once you get there. C'mon, sis, get a move on... The pool's heated..."

Coming to her feet, Jamie reached forward and gave her brother a hug. When she pulled away, he was grinning down at her. "You make it sound so appealing, how could I say no?"

"Then let's go. I'll meet you in the deep end," he encouraged warmly. Spinning on his heel, he paused at the door and sent her one last smile. His voice was deep as he spoke, and the way he said her nickname warmed her inside. "Hey Jame? One more thing..."

She cocked her head to the side.

"I'm glad you're home, brat."

The door closed behind him with a solid click. Though not overly expressive with affection, the use of his childhood pet name for her brought a smile of nostalgia to her lips.

Reaching for her suitcase, Jamie went in search of a bathing suit. While some of her clothes made the long drive on hangers and were already put away, the items from her dresser were all neatly packed in her matching luggage set. Using the opportunity to unpack as well, she took a little longer than she expected, and dinner was just about ready when she walked out back wearing her suit and a towel as a cover up.

The scene that greeted her in the backyard with the glorious desert views was one direct from her childhood. Hayden and Ian were doing what they did best, and what they had always done to her second-oldest brother. Grady was currently being held under the water while Ford watched on with a fatherly eye from his position at the grill. Two steaks were already on a plate, and a separate plate held foiled-wrapped baked potatoes. As Jamie made her way through the maze of luxurious patio furniture, she sent a worried glance over at Ford.

"Are they going to kill him?"

At that moment both men released Grady, and he came to the surface sputtering and cursing. "Damn you both."

One of Ford's dark brows rose. "Probably. Maybe you ought to get in there and referee."

She shook her head wryly. "Like old times?"

"Just like old times," he agreed. "Go on; I'll finish dinner."

"Some things just never change, do they?"

She heard Ford chuckle behind her as she crossed over to the side of the pool. Dropping her towel to the deck, Jamie pulled her knees to her chest and cannonballed into the water alongside the recently surfaced Ian and Hayden. They called out in surprise as Jamie reappeared between them.

"Are you two ever going to grow up and leave poor Grady alone?"

"Yeah, she's right," Grady grumbled.

"When you don't need to hide behind your baby sister for protection, Grady," Hayden said with a laugh.

Ian submerged again, and moments later Grady's head disappeared under the surface. As Jamie cried out her protest, she too was pulled under the water.

Just like old times, she thought as she kicked at Hayden. One foot slipped free and caught Hayden under the chin. When he released her with a surprised gurgle, she swam for the surface laughing. This game of water tag continued on for another five minutes or so while Ford completed dinner. When he finally called them to exit the pool and eat, Jamie was out of breath and her sides hurt from laughing too hard. She wrapped herself in her towel and joined her brothers at the table, suddenly feeling as though life could go on.

It was nice to laugh again, and good to be home.

Wait a minute, she thought, good to be home?

### ***

The echo of a closing door somewhere off in the distance did little to break the tendrils of the dream that snaked out of his memory. He was eight again, sleeping in the small twin bed in the trailer belonging to his mother.

A terrified scream, the sound similar to someone who has just come face to face with a murderer, woke Andrew in the night. Initially, he reached for his constant bedfellow, a stuffed bear that was the last gift he received from his father before he left. Clutching Dexter to his small chest, Andrew lay awake in bed with wide eyes, his ears straining as he wondered what had awakened him. Was it the masked murderer from the scary movie his mother had watched with her friends during Halloween? Was he in the house?

Before he finished his last thought, another whacking sound reached him from down the hall, followed by laughter and another cry. Andrew frowned. The cry sounded just like his brother Adam. This time, the shrieks had developed into the sustained cries of pain. Lifting his head slowly and cautiously so as not to be noticed by any monsters in the house, Andrew looked over to his brother's crib and found it empty. Where had Adam gone? How did he get out, and why was he crying now?

Though so scared that his arms could not release the tight clutch on his beloved teddy, Andrew's protective instincts kicked in. As slowly as he could, he slipped from beneath the thin sheet that covered him and slid to the floor, holding Dexter in one hand against his chest while he crawled to the closed bedroom door. He heard voices on the other side over the continued crying. They sounded annoyed. One of the voices was his mother's, and he did not like it when she was annoyed. However, he could still hear his baby brother, crying in pain.

Terrified to open the door and see what lay beyond, terrified to see what had happened to Adam, and terrified of the blows that would surely come when he interrupted his mother while she was entertaining company, Andrew's shaking hand reached up and grasped the handle. None of that mattered at this moment. He had a job to do.

He had to make sure Adam was okay. He had to protect Adam.

The dream shifted in a swirl like the smoke rising from a burning Bradley. Dark wisps curled around his memory, bringing with it the pain and anguish that he struggled to keep at bay.

Shouting voices, raised in panic, mingled together to form a cacophony of noise. It was impossible to make out who was saying what. The team was losing it. Why? What lay ahead? Had the insurgents found them again? The scent of burning flesh, the cries of the wounded, blood staining his hands, all seemed so far away. In the next moment, his ringing ears were jolted yet again. A blast, so loud that all the noise faded to a high pitched hum, rocked the vehicle, throwing him clear with a burst of pain and a startled cry. He had been hit. He knew he was dead. He stared up at the millions of stars in the black sky until his world turned to black.

As quickly as the image appeared, it was gone. Though he tried to fight it and escape from the dream, he once again was returned to his childhood. His mother's gaunt but smiling face appeared before him.

" _You're my little man of the house," Lisa said softly, stroking Andrew's reddened cheek gently. "You take care of us."_

Though her fingers brushed painfully against the rapidly growing bruise, Andrew stood still and erect. He refused to allow the tears burning the backs of his eyes to fill and spill over in front of his mother and her friend. There was a time when Andrew had thought his mother was the most beautiful and loving woman in the world. Over the two years since his father had left, he had watched her lovely dark hair grow thin, and her startling pale-brown eyes become lackluster with the effects of the smokey stuff that the men she invited inevitably brought with them.

He did not like those men.

He did not like what they did to his brother.

Though the blood still filled the inside of his mouth where his mother's new friend had backhanded him and split open his cheek, Andrew remained still. His new front teeth felt loose in his mouth from the blow, and he allowed his tongue to carefully run along the inside to see if any others had come loose. Fighting against the trembling in his body and the pain in his elbow where he landed when he fell, Andrew shot a quick glance out of the corner of his eye to where Adam lay prone.

" _Leave him. He's fine," his mother said cheerfully._

Placing her lit cigarette in the ashtray on the table, she slipped from her chair and came to her knees in front of him. He averted his gaze when her loosely tied robe opened revealingly. Unfortunately, by avoiding her nakedness, his eyes landed on the man who had just struck him. Seeing the man staring at his mother as though she were an ice cream cone that he wanted to eat made him angry all over again. Luckily, his mother's voice again reached his ears.

" _I'm sorry that you got in the way, Andrew-babe. Adam was being fresh, and Keith had to reprimand him. He'll wake up in a few minutes. Worthless kid causes so much trouble. Look at you now. Does it hurt?"_

He shook his head bravely.

" _All right, my precious boy, go back in your room and play with the door shut while I play with Keith."_

Though only eight and a half and weighing in the 25% for his age group, Andrew nodded solemnly before hurrying to Adam's side. He went down on his knees and picked up his brother. Though not yet two, Adam was heavy, and it took all of Andrew's strength to carry him back to their room. As soon as the door closed behind them, Andrew placed Adam on his bed while his tears finally fell free. Though his cheek stung, he disregarded his own pain and stared at his brother, willing the toddler to open his eyes. Already, Adam's eye was swelling, and it appeared an angry red against his smooth, soft baby skin.

Ignoring the soft sounds of pleasure and the low growl from the man who had struck him, Andrew cracked open his door and peeked, seeing only his mother's back with the man's arms around her hips as she straddled him. Knowing they would be too distracted with their game to notice him, he tiptoed down the hall to the bathroom where he found a clean washcloth hidden in the back of the cabinet under the sink behind half-empty bottles of shampoo and an empty box of cotton swabs. He held it to the faucet and turned on the water at a slow drip, waiting for the cloth to become fully saturated. The soft sounds had grown more rapid and urgent. He knew he only had a few more seconds before they were done. Shutting off the water, he hurried back down the hall and closed the door behind him just as the man let out a ragged groan. The sound muffled the soft click of the latch behind Andrew's panicked shove. He breathed a sigh of relief and leaned against the door for just a moment before hurrying back to Adam. The toddler still appeared asleep, though he stirred when Andrew placed the washcloth across his forehead and gently over his swelling eye.

Andrew was relieved when Adam finally opened his good eye. It took several heart-stopping seconds of panic and fear before he was able to focus on Andrew.

" _Dew?"_

" _I'm here," Andrew said softly._

" _Booboo," Adam moaned, his good eye filling with tears._

" _I know," Andrew whispered. He reached out and stroked the dark fuzz on the top of Adam's head. "I'm sorry I was too late, Adam, but I promise I won't let him hurt you again. I'll protect you."_

With a muffled cry, Andrew finally succeeded in tearing himself out of his dream. Chest heaving and covered in sweat, he ran his hands over his body to confirm that he was truly awake and not still caught in his nightmares. His resulting sigh did little to calm the pounding of his heart. If they were not so realistic, he knew he would be able to deal with them better.

Careful so as not to draw attention, Andrew sat up in bed and ran his hands over his face. Breathe, he reminded himself. Fight the anxiety, fight the panic and focus on your breathing. In and out. Now one and two and three and four. He went through the motions for several minutes, conjuring up the one image that always seemed to calm him.

Jamie.

Perhaps it was because she was the last friendly face he had seen, or maybe it was because he had felt so connected to her in that brief meeting, he was not sure. All he knew was that her face did more to ease the pain than any other. Her round, brown eyes dancing in the dim light and her full, pink lips spreading wide to reveal even white teeth slowly took the dream away. He went over the events of that evening again, remembering their conversation, almost every word, until he was able to lie back down.

Sending a silent thank you to the charming and lovely young woman from that evening, Andrew closed his eyes and then sent another, thanking her for not knowing what had happened to him. He needed her vision of him to be laughing, not looking at him with fear and disgust. The shame was nearly unbearable.

He wondered what she was doing at that moment, if she was laughing the way she had for him that night. He wondered if she was happy still.

Sighing at the cruel twist of fate that had him stuck with only his dreams, Andrew closed his eyes. It would be another long night, he thought dismally.

How much more could he take?

### Chapter 2

Another two months passed before Jamie began to feel as though she was human again. Two months before she found a new routine and stopped thinking about Clay on a daily basis. Divorce was a difficult and trying time, and though she and Clay had not found the raging success they had dreamed of at that point in their relationship, splitting everything equally was a long and hard battle. However, all of that was past her now, and she was re-established back in her hometown with a new job. Her bills were paid, and she had a large enough cushion to purchase her own home. She had plans, though she listened to Ford when he warned her to hold off for rock-bottom housing prices. It was coming, he advised. His own business had slowed tremendously, and seeing the stress on his face on the rare occasions she joined his family in the big house was enough to make her believe what he said.

Though the guest quarters were small, she was more content to stay as long as she could. Having her family so close did end up being helpful, and she had everything she needed right at her fingertips. Though Ford had refused, she insisted on paying him a small amount monthly to reimburse him for utilities. With holiday bills to pay and his business not doing so well, she hoped her little bit helped.

Christmas dinner had been the most relaxed meal she had enjoyed in ages. Her entire family was there, minus Clay, and they all enjoyed the casual repartee that had gone missing when her ex-husband was in the picture. Over the last few years, instead of laughing and enjoying their meals, all or most of her brothers had spent the time glaring across the table at Clay. He had never felt welcome with her family, and those family dinners over holidays had been a trial for all of them. Though Clay had tried his best to remain positive, Jamie knew that he resented their trips home and her to a certain extent for forcing him to go along.

Now Clay was gone, most likely celebrating the holidays with his family in California. A twinge of nostalgia gripped her briefly, for she remembered Clay's mother and stepfather affectionately. They were good people, even if their son had gotten caught up in situations that had ruined their marriage. She had to remind herself that although she enjoyed them that part of her life was now over. She had not spoken to Clay since they had met in court to sign the divorce papers, and she preferred it that way. Actually, she needed it that way for now.

Strolling into the kitchen with the last of the dirty dishes perched precariously between his hands, Ian placed them on the counter where Ford's wife Isabel and Jamie labored away at cleaning and wrapping the leftovers. As he set them down, he let out a loud belch and smiled appreciatively at them both.

"Really, Ian?" Jamie snapped. "That was gross."

"No, that was awesome," he responded with a satisfied smile.

"Ian, if you cannot behave in my kitchen – get out," Isabel grumbled.

"Ouch ladies, you wound me." He grimaced at Jamie and their sister-in-law. "That was a sign of contentment and compliments to the chef. A good meal always produces a good burp."

"Muffled under one's hand," Isabel advised.

"With a resulting 'excuse me,'" Jamie added.

"Wow, ladies, I know where I'm not wanted," Ian whined.

"That's right. Go join Ford and Ana in the game room. They're just setting up a new game of pool now."

"A new table for Christmas? Love it."

With as much nonchalance as he had entered the kitchen with, he sauntered off, leaving Jamie to finish loading the dishwasher. Once it was full, she turned the cycle on and leaned against the counter, glancing around with satisfaction. "Well, we did it."

"Yes we did, Jaimita. Now go relax with everyone else. I'll be out soon."

What Jamie wanted to do at that moment was sit back and put her feet up. After everyone had opened their presents, she and Isabel had spent the entire morning in the kitchen preparing the meal for the twelve of them. A long but glorious day, and she was ready to relax with a nice glass of wine. Reaching for the last of the red, she poured what remained into her and Isabel's glasses.

She held hers out. "To a successful Christmas celebration."

"I'll second that."

Their glasses clinked and both women took a sip. "I guess I'll go see what Grady and Hayden are up to."

"I think they're watching television," Isabel said over her shoulder.

Jamie grasped her wine glass and slipped from the room, wandering through the spacious interior that sported the wear and tear of a large Christmas celebration. Though not her home, she felt safe and welcome within these walls. Without her family's support, she was not sure she would have made it through the last months with her sanity still intact.

With Clay calling her nightly and begging her to come home when she first moved out, Jamie had been alone and scared. The fear that she was making a huge mistake and running when she needed to stay had haunted her every night in that small hotel room a few blocks off the strip. She had almost given in and gone back to him three-weeks later when Clay showed up at her hotel room high on ecstasy. She had thought that she could nurture him back to her, but then she watched him come down and sink into a depression she never would have imagined possible. The anxiety that gripped him shortly afterwards had him sobbing and threatening her until she finally broke down and called Ian out of fear. All four of her brothers arrived by morning. So, even though she felt as though she had lost much, she still had the loyalty and love of her family. For that, she felt supremely blessed.

She found Hayden with her two nephews, David and Kyle, hanging out in the media room. At ten, Ford and Grady's sons thought that Hayden was the best uncle, though Ian's police-officer status came in a close second. The boys were often trailing after her fun-loving brother, and he was corrupting them every chance he got. Tonight it was with true crime shows.

"I don't think Torie or Isabel would approve of you showing them these modern-day murders," Jamie said as she plopped down on the recliner next to Grady's son, Kyle. Reaching out to tousle his hair, she made a stern face at her brother.

"But this is about the girl who was killed in the Valley, Jamie," David said excitedly.

Jamie went still. "What?"

"Yeah, right when you moved away. Some girl went out partying and was killed when she got home. They did a documentary on the case. Something like, 'war hero gone nuts.'"

Jamie straightened in her chair, the cold grip of fear like a vice around her heart. She began to rise to leave the room, but suddenly the girl's face was filling the screen. She froze. Marissa had been right. It was the girl who had made the scene that night. Guilt joined shame and embarrassment, and she sank back into her seat weakly.

Was there anything she could have done to prevent that murder? She was, after all, one of the last people to see the girl alive. She took a deep and shaky breath as the photo faded and the ads began.

"Jamie, what's wrong?"

Hearing the concern in Kyle's voice, Hayden sat forward and closed the legs of his recliner with a snap. "Hey, Jame, are you okay? You're white as a ghost."

Jamie tried to smile. "Of course I'm fine."

He frowned in answer. "What happened? Did Ford snap at you again?"

"Oh gosh, no. I was in the kitchen with Isabel."

"Then what's going on?"

She decided that she must have looked bad, because the concern on Hayden's face did not waver. "I wasn't expecting to see this on the television."

"This? You mean the girl who died?" He shook his head in confusion.

"Yes."

"But you weren't here when it happened."

"Actually I was... I was there that night," she said softly.

She watched as the atmosphere in the room changed. In a reaction so similar to hers, Hayden's face drained of color while her nephews stared in shocked silence. Like twin gaping fish, their mouths fell open as their ten-year-old imaginations ran wild. Suddenly, she felt very exposed.

Hayden reached out and tugged on David's arm. "Scoot over to my seat, Squirt. I want to sit next to Jamie."

"But I want to hear this," he complained.

Hayden gave him a threatening stare, and David sighed dramatically. However, he did come to his feet and they swapped spots.

"Tell me," Hayden ordered.

"There's nothing really to tell. I saw the girl while I was out with Marissa and Rae. She almost puked all over me, but this guy pulled me out of the way."

"Why haven't you ever said anything?"

"Clay and I left the next day, and I didn't hear about the murder until after he was arrested. I didn't follow the trial or anything; I was too spooked." She did not add that she was embarrassed and frightened that she had allowed the man to follow her home that night.

Hayden's eyes were still wide. "Damn, Jamie. That's just crazy."

"Quiet! It's coming back on."

Jamie's head swung in the direction of the screen. Ford had installed a complete home theater room, complete with viewing chairs and projection screen. The surround-sound system filled the room with the introduction, and the narrator's voice had replaced those of cheerful women selling mop heads. Jamie and Hayden turned to watch, and when _his_ face appeared it took almost the entire back wall of the room. Jamie's breathing ceased at the sight of the man who had intrigued and then terrified her for the last three years. There were the deceptively friendly honey eyes and the small, straight nose that led to his strong jaw. It truly was a shame, for he was good looking even in a mug shot. She remembered how those eyes had danced that night, but they were not dancing in the picture at all.

"Andrew," Jamie whispered.

Without warning, the name suddenly popped into her head. Despite the passage of time, she remembered their brief interaction as though it was yesterday. He had been so charming, friendly and gentlemanly to her. That he had turned off that night to go murder another woman seemed so implausible and surrealistic. Things like that just did not happen to everyday people... or so she thought. To her surprise, she decided she wanted to hear more, to learn about the man who had fooled her.

"Andrew? Andrew Sheehan. That's the guy's name that did it," Hayden said.

"I just can't believe it."

Both boys sent an irritated hush their way this time, so Hayden reached out and patted her knee. "Let's talk about it after."

She sat back and watched, sipping first but then gulping her wine when Hayden left the room during an ad and returned moments later with a new bottle and a second glass. Together, the four of them learned about the wild party-girl, who was actually the daughter and sister of a nice family that had settled in Scottsdale back in the early 70s. Kit had grown up in the city and attended NAU, returning home again after graduation. Her blonde friend, Molly, was interviewed. Jamie remembered her and the man she had hooked up with that night. They had disappeared before Kit had been escorted out. Who had been the man? She had never seen his face full on, but she remembered how intently he had been focused on Molly.

The answer was not quite forthcoming. They segued into the events of the night, all supposition and put together through what evidence they could find since the man convicted of the crime maintained his innocence from the start. Investigators presumed that after Kit was escorted out, she made her way home and apparently had gone to bed. Bouncers at the bar testified that she was seen to have left with the man accused of murdering her. They had found him three-days later via the card he had used to pay his bill, and then those very same bouncers picked him out of a lineup and confirmed his appearance on their closed-circuit cameras.

Jamie stiffened. That was not right. Sure they had seen him, but he had left with her.

To her surprise and dismay, the inconsistencies grew throughout the story. Despite the welcoming comfort of the plush leather recliner, Jamie sat forward and watched the program intently, occasionally shaking her head with disbelief. This was just not right. Kit was reported to have been murdered between two and three in the morning. If Kit resided in Gilbert, how could Andrew have stopped following her at two and then driven over twenty miles to Kit's, broken into her home, and attacked and killed her in less than an hour? The killer had removed all the bedding following the attack, which was never found, so there was no DNA evidence at the scene. However, they had found traces of DNA on Andrew's shoes from that night. Of course, he had shielded her when Kit threw up. Jamie specifically remembered him staring down at his clothing that night with a mixture of disgust and resignation. It was feasible that the DNA they had found was remaining splatter.

Everything was all wrong. How could she have missed this for so long?

The next segment focused on Andrew's side of the story – his defense. Suddenly, his lawyer appeared on screen. Feeling a growing sense of panic, Jamie watched in horror as she heard about the missing witness who could verify Andrew's alibi. They had reported her appearance, advised the investigators of her presence, and told of Andrew following her car home. They even had a general description of her car. Apparently, since she had settled her bill with cash, they were unable to confirm her identity, and she was chalked up as a figment of desperation.

However, Andrew still had more evidence on his behalf. He turned in a time stamped receipt from Denny's restaurant for three in the morning. With her calculations, she concluded that it would have been timed perfectly for his right turn when he left her. The far East Mesa restaurant would have taken him less than 10 minutes to reach, and then, with time to be served and eat, 3 a.m. would have matched up perfectly.

This dramatic piece of evidence had not been presented due to the eyewitness testimony that placed him leaving with a dark-haired girl with a black jacket right around the time Kit was escorted out. Jamie had worn a black jacket out that night and had put it on right before they left. The closed circuit cameras could not distinguish between her blue top and Kit's red one when both of them had worn black out the door. She began to feel sick to her stomach, and she placed her glass of wine down in the cup holder on the recliner with a trembling hand.

His trial had lasted eight days. The guilty verdict was returned in just an hour-and-a-half, sending a man who could very well have been innocent off to life in prison. Aware that she was breathing irregularly and on the verge of hyperventilating, she ignored her queasy stomach, lifted her wine glass to her lips and downed it in a single gulp. Hayden watched her in surprise. When she lowered the glass, her eyes were wide.

"This is all wrong," she whispered. "I don't think he did this."

"What? He was convicted. He's in jail."

"He couldn't have done this, don't you see?"

Hayden shook his head.

She was shaking and felt cold down to her bones. Hayden watched her with concern and curiosity, obviously wondering what on earth could have upset her so.

She shook her head emphatically. "He just couldn't have done it. I know this..."

"How?" Hayden asked impatiently. "What are you saying?

"I know this because he left with me."

### ***

A fire smoldered in the outdoor fireplace. The soft red glow radiated heat against Jamie's legs as she sat slowly rocking in the cushioned patio rocker. Hayden sat beside her, nursing a beer and sending an occasional worried glance her way. He had disappeared several minutes prior and returned with a blanket, which he draped over her shoulders, but she barely noticed. Her mind was still spinning with the story she had viewed. A mixture of emotions tormented her: guilt, panic, fear, regret and most of all, sorrow. If she was right, this man had been convicted of a heinous crime that he did not commit. Either that or she had been spared from being the victim of a seriously sick individual.

She just needed to figure out which was right.

"Grady and Torie just left with their boys, Ian took off to meet Kat, and Ford and Isabel are watching a movie with Ana and David. That leaves just us. So start from the beginning."

"First promise me you're not going to run and tell the others about what I tell you tonight... at least, not until I have time to think about all this."

Hayden did not look very pleased but nodded his assent reluctantly. In fact, he looked very worried and seemed as tormented as she felt, which explained his hesitation to not involve the others. Whenever the family had run into problems, they always worked together to find a solution. With the balance of differing personalities and points of view, they always managed to come up with reasonable and effective ideas. That was, when they worked together. However, Jamie was not ready for that yet. She needed to sort things out on her own before unnecessarily drawing everyone else into her current problem.

She wiggled her toes where they were growing warm from the heat of the fireplace and silently pondered for a bit longer while Hayden patiently waited for her to speak. Taking a deep breath, she decided that she needed to just start from the beginning and tell everything, giving Hayden the opportunity to decide if she was right or not.

"The night before Clay and I left for Vegas, Marissa and Rae took me out. We had dinner and then went dancing. We ended up at the bar because it was across the street from their condo. Do you remember where I lived before I moved in with Clay?"

"Of course," Hayden said.

"We had a couple of drinks. I didn't even finish one beer because I was driving home to Clay's that night instead of staying with them. I was just getting ready to leave when I noticed the girl, Kit. She was pretty drunk and getting loud, so I told Marissa I was going."

Hayden nodded encouragingly.

"Our waiter had pretty much disappeared, so I went up to the bar. Kit bumped into me then. She was so drunk that she took a spill at my feet."

Hayden's brows rose in surprise. "They didn't kick her out?"

Jamie shook her head. "Not then... the bartender kid did shut her off, though. He knew her name, so I assumed she was a regular there. That's pretty weird since she lived all the way in Gilbert. It's a long drive for a heavy drinker."

"Her Gilbert address was actually just down the road. She was on the Mesa line in some complex off Val Vista Road."

"How do you know that?"

He waved a hand in dismissal. "I remembered the case."

"Well, it still would've been a twenty-five minute or so ride from Clay's."

"And that matters?"

"It could, yes."

Her cryptic answer seemed to catch Hayden off guard again. She continued her story before he interrupted. "While I was waiting to pay my bill, a man came up and we began to talk. I'm pretty sure it was the same Andrew that's now in jail."

"Scary."

"It gets creepier, trust me."

She took another sip of wine and laid her head back against the soft cushion of the rocker. "He was nice. Polite. He tried to hit on me, but I told him about Clay. He was okay with it. While we were talking, Kit was arguing with the waiter about another round. That's when she puked."

"Gross."

Jamie smiled thinly. "It was. The guy, Andrew, grabbed me and pulled me out of the way. I thanked him, and Kit was escorted out. That's the last time I saw her."

"Wow. That's just crazy."

The patio fell silent as Jamie paused. All she could hear was the sound of the pool equipment making its cycle. Over and over again, she replayed the events of the night in her head. While these thoughts had come upon her many times in the past, fear had always forced her to deny them. Tonight, she struggled with the idea that he had not committed the crime. How could he have?

After another minute, Hayden spoke. "So how are you involved in all this?"

Shaking her head, Jamie glanced at her brother. "I don't know. Maybe it's nothing. It was a long time ago."

"Tell me the rest."

"Rae and Marissa had found our waiter, so he and I went back to the table and paid there. The girls left since they were just walking across the street. The guy walked me out. Hayden, it was me in the black jacket. I still have it – it's hanging in the closet in my room."

"Wait. You said he walked _you_ out?"

"Yes. He walked me to my car." She bit her lip. "And he followed me almost all the way to Clay's."

"You let him follow you home?"

The disbelief in his voice was enough to cause Jamie's cheeks to flush with color. "He wanted to make sure I made it safely."

"You allowed a murderer to follow you home?"

The question was spoken with so much disbelief and anger that Jamie fell silent as she considered her answer. Hayden was staring at her, his eyes round with shock.

"He didn't follow me all the way home. He turned off before Clay's development. Besides, Clay was there if I ran into trouble."

"Oh... your ex-husband would've been so helpful."

"Perhaps he would've at that point in our relationship," she snapped. Hayden snorted in disgust, so Jamie sent him a fierce frown. "This has nothing to do with Clay, so don't change the subject."

"But you could've been hurt by a man that's really sick in the head."

"That's just it," she protested. "If he was with me, how did he kill that woman?"

Silence fell as Hayden realized the extent of her words. His voice was low when he responded. "I can't believe this."

Hayden placed his hands over his face and sat forward in his chair. The firelight danced in his hair, making some strands appear red. It almost matched the angry color that suffused his face. "This is bad, Jamie. This is just unbelievable."

Jamie nodded. "I don't know what to do. I've thought about it all evening, and I can't believe this guy did it. He never could've followed me and gotten back to kill her in the timeframe they have."

"He had a receipt, right?"

"Which makes perfect sense. I got home at two. He could've turned off and gone east to that Denny's. That would've fit the timeframe."

"How do you know what time you got home?"

She remembered. That was one thing she was absolutely certain about. When she had pulled in, her car read two-in-the-morning, and when she had climbed into bed with Clay, he had rolled over and made a comment about how tired she would be when they left. "Clay woke up when I got home. He laughed at me for getting home so late."

"Ok, so let me get this straight." He paused for a moment to think. Frown lines appeared on his forehead, making him appear every bit of his 31 years. Gone was his normal nonchalant expression; in its place was a man feeling weighed down by the pressure of a momentous decision. "You say that you're the missing alibi, the one that walked out the door with that guy?"

She nodded.

"And you were wearing a black jacket? Both of you had dark hair, almost the same length at the time?"

"Yes, I suppose."

"Are you sure that it's the same man, Jamie? Can you say that honestly, even after all this time?"

She thought for a moment. After all, this was the very same conflict she had felt. But that scar and those unique, pale eyes. She remembered the scar when he smiled. It had to be the same man. "Unless he has a twin brother with matching eyes, and a scar that reaches his temple, yes."

"Shit, Jamie, what have you gotten yourself into now?" Hayden asked sourly.

Jamie sent him an exasperated look. "I didn't ask for this."

"What do we do?" Hayden shook his head. "What do we do now?"

"I don't know."

"Well, that's what we need to decide and soon. If you keep your mouth shut about this, some innocent guy's rotting away in prison, and the real murderer is free somewhere... You need to tell."

"But what if I'm wrong?"

"If you're wrong, then at least you came forward and let them check out your story. I think you need to say something."

Jamie grimaced. "I'm not sure I want to get involved."

"Well, you never should've let some strange guy follow you home. Since when do you pick up random strangers?"

Jamie glared at her brother. "How many times have you hooked up after a night out, Mr. Commitment-phobe?" Hayden had the grace to look a little embarrassed, so Jamie softened. "It's a serious thing. What if he did do it? What if he turned off and hurried back to Gilbert? If I come forward and give him an alibi, I could be letting a murderer out of prison."

"All right. We should run this by Ian and Grady first. See what they think."

"Grady's a malpractice lawyer, not a defense attorney."

"He still may know someone. Ian has to know about this."

Jamie shuddered. Ian would be even more upset with Jamie than Hayden appeared to be. His wrath could only be comparable to Ford's.

"I need to think about this. Just let me think about it for a day or two, okay?"

Hayden grimaced. "Two days max, Jame, and I'm calling a family meeting."

She nodded. "Fine."

### Chapter 3

Winter 2009

For two days she pondered, ignoring all of Hayden's calls and shutting off her mobile phone as soon as she got home from work in case one of her brothers called her while she was thinking. She considered keeping her mouth shut and letting Andrew Sheehan work his own defense, but then she thought about the evils of the world and how humanity tended to turn a blind eye on injustice to better serve their own interests. Those ideas made her feel ill, sending her to start her pondering over again.

By the afternoon of her second day, she pushed aside her stubborn streak and finally conceded that she did need the input of her brothers, and that she could not figure everything out on her own. She was too frightened of making the wrong decision. To do so could ruin lives. With that thought in mind, she sent Hayden a text message during her lunch at the office and asked him to set up his family meeting.

Twenty minutes later, she received the response: "After dinner. Ford's office."

She shivered with dread.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in a haze of worry. Her receptionist, Melissa, noticed her distraction and offered to reschedule her remaining appointments, but Jamie managed to slog through with only a minimum of stumbling. She even managed to set up three accounts that afternoon – a good thing for all of them. Still, she felt no triumph in her productive day. Instead, she continued to worry. She was fifteen-minutes early to the family meeting, sneaking inside Ford's office so she could compose herself alone.

The silence did not last long. One by one, her brothers filed into the room, taking up various positions in the small room with the large mahogany desk that suddenly reminded Jamie of a judge's bench. Ian arrived last in his uniform, having made the drive over to Ford's straight after work. Though she was never afraid of her closest sibling, this evening he looked every inch the intimidating cop. The way he leaned over her with an angry scowl, gripping the arms of the chair she sat in with white knuckles once she had completed her story only confirmed her thoughts.

"You did what?"

Though he was not shouting, Ian's tightly controlled anger was as disheartening as Ford's. A quick glance at her eldest brother told her that he was just waiting for his turn.

"I can't believe you were so careless," Ford said firmly.

"You should've known better," Ian snapped.

Hayden pushed away from the wall he was leaning against and came to stand beside Ford. Jamie was gripped with the same fear Clay must have felt when all four tall, intimidating brothers hovered with scowls on their faces. Though she knew Hayden was on her side, he remained obstinately silent. That defection stirred her stubborn streak again.

She met their glares with her chin held high. "Technically, this is my problem to solve, not yours, and if none of you can see beyond the reality that I once allowed a stranger to follow me partway home, then I'll just leave and figure it out on my own."

"She's got a point." Luckily, Grady jumped in to save her. "What happened isn't the issue. What matters now is what we do with the information she's giving us."

"That's obvious. We do nothing," Ford said abruptly.

"What do you mean – nothing? We can't keep quiet about this. This is serious," Hayden protested.

"She could be wrong," he replied.

Ian nodded in agreement. "It could be a different guy altogether. Look, it was what... almost four-years ago? She's talking about a guy she met once, in the dark."

"You make me sound like an idiot," she growled.

"That night you were," Ian shot back.

"Give me a break."

Hayden spoke up this time, his voice calm. "Jamie remembered his name even before the program announced it. That has to count for something."

Ian threw himself into the worn leather chair across from Ford's desk. "I want the whole story, beginning to end again," he said.

All brothers nodded in agreement. Feeling as though their initial disappointment with her had passed slightly, she sighed and recounted the events of the night a second time. Hayden nodded occasionally as if to confirm what she had previously told him, and Grady's brows drew together in deep thought.

Ford and Ian just stared at her intently. But at least they were quiet.

The room was silent when she finished. All four seemed lost in thought. Finally Ian laid his head back against the cushion of his chair. He spoke into the ceiling. "Do you know how hard it is to reopen a closed case? I'm not a detective, but I can tell you that it's not pleasant. Just ask Chuck."

"All the more reason for her to put this all behind her," Ford snapped.

"I disagree," Hayden said.

"Her life's a mess already. After Mom and Dad died, she decided that she's going to mother every creep she can find. She's already got a drug addicted ex-husband. Don't add getting involved with a murderer to her list," Ford insisted.

Feeling as though she had been struck, Jamie shot from her seat and leaned over the desk to glare at Ford. "I may not have been as great a success as you, Ford, but I've made a pretty decent life for myself. I have a career and, until this moment, thought I had a supportive family that was helping me recover from a terrible divorce."

The room fell silent as Ford and Jamie stared angrily at one another. Neither willing to back down, the two stubbornly held their tongues. Finally, Ford shook his head. "I was in the right place at the right time, Jamie. I made money due to a housing boom. You, on the other hand, were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Now it could potentially expose you to questionable situations and questionable people. I'm sorry, but I have your best interests at heart."

She blinked in disbelief. "Best interests?"

"Her best interests would be to report what she saw and what happened to the proper authorities and let them decide what to do with the information," Grady said firmly.

"And who would that be? Should she walk into the police station and find the detective that picked this guy up?" Ian asked.

"Or the prosecutor? That would be rich," Ford said.

"How about the lawyer? I'll take her to see him," Hayden suggested. "Or how about Chuck? He's a detective now."

"I thought he was still healing?" Grady said. Their cousin had been in a motorcycle accident while on duty and had been confined to a wheelchair while his injuries healed.

"He's back to work," Ian said offhandedly. "He's taken that detective position he wanted before, so he's one we should consider talking to."

Jamie sat back down in her seat and closed her eyes. As her brothers argued over what her next step was, she tried very hard to put Ford's careless insult behind her. Though she knew that she was being overly sensitive, his words had cut her mostly because she knew deep down that he did have a very good point. She was a nurturer at heart, and she had tried to take care of Clay in the same manner she had cared for her ill parents before they died. That did not make her feel very good about herself and her life choices.

"Ford's right," she announced. Four dark heads turned back to her, and all four pairs of eyes shone curiously. "I've made a mess of everything. If I report this now, something terrible will probably happen. I should just keep my mouth shut and let the authorities come find me if they can."

Before any of her brothers could respond, she pushed herself out of the chair and brushed between Hayden and Grady. She hurried from the room as fast as she could and closed the door behind her, biting back tears. It was a short walk to the front door, and she headed that way blindly. As much as she loved her brothers, this was not their concern and she should not have considered involving them.

But what was done was done, and now the problem would be convincing them of that.

### ***

Ford was at a site when he called her the next morning. It was almost as though he knew the exact moment she entered the office, for she had just set her purse in her lower desk drawer and closed it when the phone rang. Jamie could hear the sounds of a nail gun blasting like a gunshot in the background and felt a twinge of pity for her brother. Just a few short years ago he was busy with large jobs and so much work that he was constantly looking for new hires to help him. That busy time also found him confined pretty much to his office, where he was scheduling and arranging crews. The large builders in the valley had slowed tremendously when the housing market crashed in the area, and Ford had to let several crews go. Now, he had so much extra time that he could personally visit his work sites, which were down to home remodels and foreclosure clean-ups.

And he had mocked her life?

As she muttered her tentative greeting, she wondered exactly what he wanted now. If it was a fight, she was ready. However, to her surprise, Ford sounded a little nervous, perhaps even hesitant, when he spoke.

"Hey, Jame."

"Hi."

She could hear the sounds of the workers fade in intensity as he moved away from their work to a more private area. She heard a door close and then all was muffled. That had to mean that his reason for calling was serious. She sighed.

"I was up all night last night thinking about what you said."

Jamie stiffened. She was in no mood to deal with a pity party. Unfortunately, she was sure her impatience was apparent in the chilling tone of her voice. "And?"

"Well, I wanted to talk to you about it. Are you busy for lunch today? I'm at a job out your way."

Though she tried to come up with an excuse not to, Jamie knew that to delay would just be putting off the inevitable. Ford would only find her later. "Hold on," she stalled. "I'll check."

Though her desk was always neat, she made a point of rattling some financial statements in a folder marked for one of her clients to make it appear as though she were busier at work than she was. It was not her usual sort of behavior; usually she was first one to stand up for her pride. However, Ford had hit a sensitive spot the night before, and she was still smarting.

After a moment of rustling papers, she pulled up her calendar and checked her schedule for the day. Melissa usually took her lunch at 11 a.m., so Jamie knew she would be there to hold down the fort if she left once her hour was up. That just left any outstanding appointments. To her dismay, she found nothing around lunch.

"I'm free after noon."

"Good. I'll pick you up then. You can take an hour, right?"

"Of course."

"I want someplace quiet where we can sit and speak like adults. Fair enough?"

"I suppose."

"Good. I've got to get to work. I'll see you in a little bit."

She hung up her handset and sat back in the soft leather chair. It tipped back as she spun the chair around to view the window and the clear, sunny day beyond. As she expected, the parking lot beyond her window was empty. In the week between Christmas and the New Year, she hardly anticipated anyone visiting her office in the small strip mall containing only a dry cleaner, sub shop and three vacant offices. After all, it could be classified as the slowest week of the year for most businesses with the exception of retail. Why she and Melissa were even working escaped her understanding; they should have just closed up for the whole week. Chances were pretty good that no one in corporate would even have noticed.

As if on cue, she heard the front door to her small office open and Melissa called out her morning greeting. Jamie continued to rock as she returned the greeting, wondering exactly what Ford was going to say that struck him as so important.

The phone rang on her desk again. The number was not one she was familiar with, so she replaced her nervous anxiety with professional calm and answered. "Jamie Morton," she said smoothly.

Ford and her worries would just have to wait. She had work to do, and it was important that she focus. Focus, Jamie, focus!

She managed to do just that, all the way until Melissa ran next door to order a sub for lunch. The vibrant twenty-year-old she hired on to help her around the office and work as secretary had proven a Godsend to her. Melissa had completed high school with a year-old daughter and currently worked full-time to provide for her and her baby. She had started taking classes at a local community college three evenings a week in addition to working. Though Jamie had initially been skeptical about hiring the young, petite blonde who was definitely over-stressed for her age, her ambition to do well for her daughter had cinched the deal. Jamie had not regretted her decision once.

Always prompt, Melissa returned with her sandwich and worked on her homework for exactly one hour before calling out to Jamie that she was done. It was right at that moment that Ford came strolling in the door, and Jamie scowled at their punctuality. She still had two phone calls to return. The stock market had dropped again, and one of her highest maintenance clients was in a panic. Another client with a 529 college savings plan needed to make a withdrawal and could not get the website to work. So much for a quiet week between Christmas and New Year's, she thought peevishly.

When Jamie held up a hand to stall Ford, he nodded and busied himself at Melissa's desk. The pleased assistant colored under his attention, as she did for all four of her brothers. Admittedly, they were a handsome group of men, and Melissa's crushes changed whenever one stopped by. Jamie grinned as she reached for her handset knowing that Ford would be Melissa's next flavor of the week by the time she was done on the phone.

Granted some peace, she hurriedly returned her calls, luckily leaving a message for her high maintenance client and then walking her other one through the website in record time. She was done and had her handbag over her shoulder by ten past the hour. Ford nodded coolly as she came to her feet and then bestowed Melissa one of his friendliest smiles.

"It's good to see you again. Make sure you give Zoe a big hug from me."

Melissa beamed excitedly that he remembered her daughter's name. "Of course, Mr. Evans. Thank you very much."

"See you in an hour," Jamie said over her shoulder as she passed.

"Take your time," Melissa called back cheerfully.

While she wanted to shout back that this meeting was not going to be pleasant, Jamie glanced instead at Ford. He brushed past her and pushed the door open gallantly, even stepping aside to let her pass. Her suspicion increased. There was no doubt about it; he was definitely up to something. She only had a few minutes to figure out what exactly that could be.

Thankfully, Ford cut straight to the chase as soon as they climbed in his work truck. "I thought a lot about what I said to you last night and want to apologize. It came out all wrong, and I didn't mean it the way it sounded."

Taken completely by surprise, Jamie fumbled with her seatbelt. It slipped from her fingers and snapped back with a whishing sound that echoed throughout the now silent cab. Ford watched her reaction cautiously while Jamie licked her lips. Her suspicions had not eased despite his uncustomary apology.

"I don't know what to say."

"I understand that you're angry. I don't blame you."

"So why are you apologizing?"

"It was the right thing to do," he said shortly.

Inserting the key into the ignition, he turned his attention to driving. It gave Jamie time to ingest what he was saying, and one thought popped into her head causing her eyes to narrow.

"You spoke to Isabel," she said in an accusing voice.

Easing the truck to the exit, Ford sent her a quick glance. She also noticed that his cheeks colored slightly. "Yes... She wasn't very happy to hear all of our raised voices last night. But actually it was Ian who laid it on the thickest. He had some very valid points about everything."

"Like what?"

"You have done pretty well for yourself, really. I know losing Mom and Dad so close together was harder on you than any of the rest of us, save maybe Ian. Even though you were in high school, you were still a kid. Having to watch them..." He paused, unable to speak the words aloud. "You were the one who really took care of them. First Dad; then Mom. Losing two parents to cancer in a space of three years could've turned you into quite a different person... But you've done well."

Twisting in the soft bucket seat until she was facing Ford, Jamie stared at him in surprise. Hearing him say the words aloud, words none of her brothers had ever admitted in the past, was a huge deal to her. She could feel the emotion rising, even though Ford was not done.

"You went off to school, you got your degree, and you met a guy who most likely was a good catch initially. No one should blame you for his weaknesses; in fact, you should be commended for not falling into the same lifestyle. It's pretty amazing that you didn't. Instead, you tried to help him overcome it for a year before you said enough was enough."

"Wow," Jamie said aloud. "I'm stunned."

Easing off the gas at a red light, Ford glanced in her direction. "Just because I don't always say it doesn't mean I don't think it. I'm very proud of what you've become. That's why I wanted to straighten this out. I don't want you to think I believe you're a train wreck, Jamie. Nothing could be further from the truth."

"Ian told you to say that?" Jamie sputtered.

Apparently, her reaction was not what Ford expected. He nearly missed the turn into the restaurant parking lot. "What? No!"

Finding a spot at the back of the lot between a red Toyota and black Mercedes, Ford squeezed in deftly and shut the truck down before turning his attention to her again. "No, I'm saying this."

Jamie hid a smile behind her hand. "Where is all this coming from then? I'm confused."

"What Ian did convince me of last night is that you would never have mentioned running into this guy if you weren't convinced it was really him... I have to agree. You've more than proven that you've got a good head on your shoulders and aren't some floozy that would come up with such an elaborate story unless you were absolutely convinced of the truth."

"Of course I'm not!"

"I know that," he said hastily before her temper could rise further. "After you left, Ian convinced all of us that you had a serious problem. While none of us really like the idea of you getting involved, that's because we worry for our own selfish, overprotective reasons."

"At least you admit it."

He nodded. "Yeah, well don't think I'm going to stop either. I'm the closest thing you've had to a dad for the last fourteen years."

She had to agree. It was Ford who had stepped up when her parents had died, moving with Isabel back to the States from Isabel's home country of Italy and beginning his business, which thankfully had boomed soon after. Ian was graduating high school, Hayden was already in college, and Grady was in law school at the time. With five kids born within eight years, it had been left to Ford as the eldest to come home and make sure the remaining siblings completed their education and dealt with the trauma of losing both parents in a healthy manner.

"At any rate," he continued. "I called Chuck this morning and talked to the others. Chuck thinks you need to speak up, and we all finally agreed that if you want to come forward, we'll help you in any way we can. So that's why I'm here – to help you decide how you want to proceed."

Instantly forgiving her brother, she leaned across the center console and threw her arms around his neck. "Thank you for understanding."

He chuckled and awkwardly patted her back. "We can't let you do this alone, kiddo."

"I'm scared; I don't know what to do."

"Well, that's what we're going to talk about at lunch. We've got to decide how you should go about this. Hopefully you'll do the right thing, and hopefully three years in prison hasn't ruined this guy. Come on, I'm starving."

### Chapter 4

Within two months of his incarceration, Andrew's anxiety peaked into frequent night terrors and a brief period of hallucinations. For a time, his depression was so great that he feared he might just give in and give up. One by one, his closest remaining friends had turned on him, given him their back and denied his existence. The hardest blow came from Adam, his brother and the single person he never expected to turn on him in disgust. After all, they had done everything together. Andrew had raised Adam, protected him, and no one knew him as closely as Adam did. But no one wanted to associate with a murderer, not even his own flesh and blood.

Therefore, Andrew reached rock bottom when Adam refused to speak to him. He had been deployed a second time to Iraq, and Andrew knew that the first tour already had left its scars. Always concerned for his younger brother, he had written Adam a letter of warning and received one back. Adam advised that because of Andrew's situation, his career in the military was at risk. In the same letter, Adam asked him to please stay out of his business and not contact him again.

Even Jamie's face was not enough to bury the bitter pain and despair Andrew had felt when he read those words. Of everything he had faced in his life so far, losing the brother he had protected since his birth was the most brutal blow.

When Andrew was ten, three-year-old Adam was admitted into the hospital for the first time. The broken arm and six stitches in his head were explained away as a bike riding accident rather than revealing the truth. However, Andrew knew the truth that Adam was thrown down the stairs after spilling the beer belonging to their mother's new friend. This man had proven to be even more violent than the others, and because their mother liked the drugs he brought her he stayed longer.

Though Andrew was not immune to the friend's anger himself, his mother's unwavering defense of him and willingness to blame Adam, no matter how many times Andrew admitted fault left him virtually unscathed. He had long ago given up hope that his father would return with his easygoing smile and ready laughter to save Adam from the torment. As his mother constantly reminded him, it was up to him to be was the man of the house.

So he did accept fault for putting his three-year-old brother on his bike and causing the accident that landed him in the hospital with a swelling brain and a broken arm. At the time, he just wished he could have been the one to have taken the blow, and he had wished he was in the hospital bed instead of his brother.

Losing Adam's support had nearly been his death blow. He had gone off to war again, and Andrew remained behind with his life in tatters and branded a criminal, knowing that he may never speak to him again. Knowing his brother considered him guilty was unbearable. As another holiday season approached with no word from him, Andrew realized the truth. He had nowhere to go and no way to win. Without the desperately needed support, he had enough and made the call to his lawyer.

"I'm done fighting this."

On the other end of the line, Darren Walters gasped, but all Andrew could hear was the happy sound of laughter in the background. It irritated him to hear people enjoying the holiday season. When was the last time he laughed? It did not take him long to figure it out for he knew the answer immediately – that evening with Jamie.

"You can't give up, Andrew. You just have to be patient."

"It's not worth it, and frankly I don't have any hopes of ever seeing this overturned."

"But Andrew, you have to have faith in me."

"I've lost all faith."

The sound of a door closing, blocking out the sunny laughter that Andrew wanted to take part in but could not, indicated that Darren had moved into a quieter spot. Andrew tensed for the argument.

"What you're going through is normal," Darren said patiently. "But you can't give up now. Just accept these feelings and know they'll go away soon enough."

"Nothing is going to change the fact that I'm here. Nobody cares that I was willing to give up my life to serve them. All they see is a man who went crazy."

"I believe in you, Andrew."

Andrew did not hear his final comment. He hung up the phone and returned to his lonely existence.

### ***

The last brother to come over to Jamie's side was actually Ian, and when he arrived that evening, the other brothers were already on the back patio with her. These family meetings had occurred multiple times over the years since their parents had passed away. Though Jamie had not participated in all of them, she could honestly admit that neither was she the cause of them either. One of the first she had attended was regarding Hayden's decision to drop out of college in favor of selling cars for a living when their parents had died. Grady had been the most adamant at that time, speaking out forcefully that his decision was completely ridiculous and there was no way he would stand by and allow Hayden to give up his full-ride scholarship. Hayden had not spoken to Grady for six months following his uncustomary show of temper, but he had caved in and returned to school – after the girl whose father owned the dealership and he broke up.

Ian had been the subject of a meeting as well. His meeting was not regarding a dramatic life change. Instead, this had to do with his purchase of a motorcycle as an emotional response to the ending of his relationship with his high school sweetheart, Kat. Jamie spoke out that time to say that she feared her eighteen-year-old brother on a bike, feared that he would never ride with his helmet and take unnecessary risks. Though her words went unheeded and Ian still bought the bike, he later approached her and thanked her for her concern.

Even Ford had been the subject of a family meeting. When he decided to invest a portion of their trust fund into his business, he was concerned about the impact to his marriage and their opinions of him should everything fail. They had all voted for him to proceed, and he had gone on to become a very successful builder in his own right. It had been a good choice.

Now it was her turn. The brothers immediately went to work, each grabbing a chair and taking a seat around the fireplace and each holding a small plate with their appetizers on it.

Grady spoke first between bites from one of the crab cakes Isabel had brought out. "I've gotten us an appointment for Thursday afternoon with a defense lawyer in the city. Can you clear your schedule, Jamie?"

"What time?"

"Tentative for one. I can change that time if you're too busy. Surprisingly, he's free all afternoon for us."

She pulled out her phone and plugged the appointment in her calendar while mentally making a note to confirm her work schedule in the morning. Though she was confident Melissa could handle the office on her own for an afternoon, she also made a note to confirm her plans with her. Once she had everything entered, she glanced up at Grady. He was happily chewing, and his jaw worked steadily as he in turn glanced over at Hayden.

"I spoke to Chuck, and he put a call in to his contacts over there. They're pulling the case. I also checked the Internet. Jamie and I had already heard everything that I found, so nothing really changed. I can say that this guy was a clean cut, good guy before he was arrested. He had just gotten back from a second tour in Afghanistan a few months before."

"What branch?" Ian asked. Jamie remembered him wanting to enlist as well, but Ford and the rest of them had denied his request.

"Special Forces. Medical discharge."

Ian whistled low. "Now that's interesting... Don't want to mess with them. Dangerous guys."

"Dangerous, sure, but this guy was an American hero," Hayden said.

Jamie sat up with this new piece of information. "I remember seeing a tattoo on his forearm, now that you mention it. He had a military sign, I don't remember which, but it was on his arm."

"Make a note of it," Ford said quickly.

Reaching for her laptop at her feet, Jamie set about adding to her written account while Ian and Hayden continued to discuss his military prowess. Jamie was only half-listening, but she was intrigued by what she did hear. When she had started her account, the memories had come back to her as though that evening had taken place the week before. The way Andrew Sheehan had charmed her and the comfortable rapport and easy laughter he had drawn from her were things that she had struggled to bury out of shame and fear. However, thinking back and remembering that evening in such detail made her realize that it was those very things about him that made her remember that encounter so clearly. That he left such a strong impression on her only increased her resulting shock that he might have run off and killed another woman after leaving her. He was a smart, patriotic man prior to the events of that night, and she wondered what he was like now.

Apparently Ian did, too. "Prison can certainly do a number on some people, Hayden. He could come out and _become_ a criminal."

"Don't say that," Jamie said. Her head whipped up, and she closed the laptop with a solid click. "We can't think like that."

"But we should be realistic," Ian protested. "He returns from a nasty war and gets thrown into prison. This guy could be a complete wreck by now."

"Which brings us to you," Ford interjected. "What have you learned?"

Ian shrugged his shoulders. "I spoke to Zach and some guys at work. Obviously, no one wants to see the wrong man go to jail for a crime he didn't commit. While they like to see cases closed, most everyone would gladly reopen one if it's proven that the wrong man is behind bars. I don't think there's a soul out there that wouldn't do the right thing."

He stared pointedly at Jamie as he spoke, and she warmed inside. Suddenly, her determination felt normal, felt right. It was not just a personality glitch on her part, where she wanted to help and care for everyone she came in contact with. She legitimately had information that needed to be shared.

Though his lips tightened with indecision, Ford nodded his head slowly. He came to his feet and began to pace, one work-weathered hand cupping his chin as he thought. All of them were used to his serious ponderings; he did that every time they met to discuss something. It was an endearing quality about him, for it demonstrated his complete concentration on the matter at hand. However, he did take his time when he went into those modes, carefully looking at the situation from all possible angles. The remaining brothers took the opportunity to hit the plate of snacks Isabel brought out while Jamie stared up at the crystal-clear night sky. She could see Orion glowing on the horizon, its belt a slash against the night sky. Ford's property was mostly shielded from the bright city lights, and the dark sky illuminated millions of stars at night. One could get lost staring up at the constellations, and it was a sight that she always enjoyed. She picked out Scorpius first, finding the bright star Antares and tracing it down the scorpion's tail over to the constellation Sagittarius.

When she was young, her father had brought her camping up in Flagstaff, where they had viewed the M8 nebula through his telescope. He had called it the Lagoon Nebula and then laughed, saying that it looked nothing like a lagoon at all. That trip had been one of the only times she had spent time with her father alone, and she treasured that weekend more than any other memory of the man who had been taken from her life so early.

"I think it goes without saying that Jamie's pretty much decided to go forward with what she knows... Am I right, Jame?"

Hearing Ford's voice break into the sound of hearty chewing and an occasional side comment, Jamie tipped her head from the sky back down to the group. Almost in unison, all four pairs of eyes turned in her direction, and she nodded her head with confidence.

"I know it may be an inconvenience, but I think I should be honest and forthcoming and let the cards fall as they may."

Grady leaned forward and set his plate on the table between their chairs. When he straightened, his face was serious. "What I've learned these past few hours is if, and I mean _if_ , your information is strong enough to reopen the case, you could be in for a long haul. It might not just be one visit to a lawyer and a signed affidavit. You could be called on multiple times. Are you ready for that?"

Ian nodded his agreement. "And it won't just be the defense lawyers contacting you. You'll also be interesting to the prosecutor's office, too."

"That could get tricky for you," Ford mentioned.

"Why tricky?" Jamie asked.

"You may question what you remember and how you remember. Just say what you know for certain. Please don't try to fill in the blanks in your memory," Grady said firmly.

"He's right," Hayden agreed. The look he sent her way was sympathetic, but Jamie remained determined.

"Also be aware that they will most likely do everything they can to discredit you. That could include your relationship with Clay. They'll get personal," Ian added.

She stared at him. "You're trying to tell me that I could be accused of being on drugs?"

"It's possible," Grady admitted. "If they feel reason that it may have a bearing on your testimony."

"I have nothing to hide. I never partied with Clay," she said in a rush. "I had no part of it, and that ruined my marriage."

"No, it was Clay's drugs that ruined your marriage," Ian said softly. "Don't ever believe otherwise."

"There are times when I wish things were different, that we both had made different choices, but I suppose it all worked out the way it was supposed to. I'm at the point where I don't regret leaving him."

"Good girl," he said.

"As I said, I have nothing to hide. I'm ready to take this all the way. This man, whatever he's become, doesn't deserve to be where he is if he was wrongfully put in prison. I'll fight for his freedom if he didn't do it."

"There aren't very many people out there that would do the same," Grady said sadly. Hayden and Ian nodded in agreement. "That makes you a special person, Jamie. But I want to remind you that it's going to be a long and possibly difficult road ahead of you. Go into it with both eyes open, and if you decide that you can't devote your attention to this, don't feel bad about backing out now."

"None of us would ever think differently of you," Hayden said.

As she considered their words, she realized that she would come to the same decision all over again, no matter who the person was. She could do this; she was convinced she could go all the way.

"If this were one of you," she said earnestly. "I'd hope and pray that someone could see what good people you are. If any of you were accused of something that you didn't do, I'd fight to the death to clear your name. Knowing that there was someone out there that held the key to your truth, your honesty, would torture me.

"People today are always willing to believe the negative instead of the positive. No one trusts anyone anymore. You can't even walk down the street and smile at a stranger without someone wondering what your ulterior motives are. It's easier to think the worst... People feel safer thinking the worst. Even you boys doubted my ability to judge this man's character, and it wasn't until I was able to prove to you that what I knew was accurate that you began to believe me. I understand that I'm going to have to prove myself over and over again, but I know I can do it. This man needs someone to believe in him. Obviously, not many do."

A heavy silence fell among the group until the sound of soft clapping reached their ears. All five pairs of Evans' eyes travelled in the direction of the French doors, where Isabel stood smiling at Jamie.

"Bravo, darling," she said lightly. "You're absolutely correct."

With the speed of a leopard, Hayden shot to his feet. "I presume you're here because dinner's ready?"

While the other men groaned at Hayden's insensitivity, Jamie smiled. "Thank you, Isabel. I'm glad you agree."

Isabel approached Jamie and took both her hands within her warm ones. "I think what you're doing is tremendously brave, Jaimita, and I'm proud that you're my sister."

As Jamie began to feel choked up again, Ford placed his arm around his wife's shoulders. "This lovely lady's right, and I think she speaks for all of us."

The others dutifully nodded their heads, and Jamie stared at each of them in turn. They were smiling at her, and Hayden's eyes glowed with pride. She felt lucky to have these guys behind her.

She chuckled. "I'll bet. I bring so much stability to the family."

Ian winked at her. "Excitement is good... in small doses."

"Okay, then," Jamie said. "Let's do this."

"Can we eat now?" Hayden whined.

### ***

The lawyer Grady arranged for her to meet had an office in the heart of Phoenix, nestled between the light rail and the contemporary high rises. Ford drove around the block once before pulling into a parking garage within walking distance to the office. While he paused to take the ticket, Jamie pulled down the visor to check her makeup in the mirror. Ford shook his head. It was her third time checking since they had exited the highway. To say that she was nervous was an understatement. In fact, she was scared to death. Her trepidation was not lost on Ford, who pulled in a free space and then reached over to pat her shoulder.

"Everything will be fine. Just go in and tell him what you know. He can decide how to proceed."

Finding it difficult to speak beyond the lump the size of a lemon it felt as though she swallowed, Jamie smiled tremulously. "I'm nervous, but I can do this."

He bestowed upon her the smile that he usually reserved for his children, a mixture of indulgence and sympathy. "I know you can."

The short walk down Central Avenue gave Jamie the opportunity to clear her head. It was a brisk day, and a cool breeze blew down the center of the street and caressed their faces. Their side of the road was in the shade, making the wind feel even cooler against her cheeks, but it felt good to Jamie. What she needed at that moment was the cold blast to the face, a rapid stride to keep her blood pumping and a few more moments to delay the inevitable.

Ford paused outside the heavy glass doors and glanced up at the numbers before grasping the thick, wooden doorknob and pulling it open. The interior was blessedly warmer than outside, and a broad entry towering three-stories high with marble walls and plush leather sofas in the corner waiting area welcomed them. Jamie whistled under her breath. "Nice building."

"There are a lot of offices in here," Ford replied.

Instead of heading toward the sofa to wait for Grady, he approached the information desk and nodded at the security guard who came to her feet as he neared. Jamie made her way over to the directory and found the lawyer's office. It was on the twentieth floor. She traced the beautiful brown and pink marble wall until she located the nook holding the elevators tucked away in the corner. There were two separate elevators, one for floors two-through-fifteen and the other for floors sixteen-through-thirty. How organized, she thought wryly.

"Grady's upstairs already," Ford said as he returned to her side. His voice echoed loudly in the silent expanse of the lobby.

"Oh, wonderful," she whispered back. "Let's get this over with."

They were silent as they rode the elevator up to the twentieth floor. As the doors opened, a long hallway extended in either direction, but a plaque on the wall indicated which suite they wanted. Ford walked next to her, his hand lightly on her arm in a silent show of support. She was grateful, for her knees suddenly felt as though they would buckle at any moment.

As Ford held the door open for her to pass, a fresh faced and smiling receptionist quickly came to her feet, and her voice was excessively cheery and alert when she greeted them. Her exuberance reminded Jamie immediately of a Barbie doll and struggled to refrain from rolling her eyes. Before either of them could offer an introduction, she stepped around the desk and waved at them to follow.

"They're waiting for you in the conference room. If you'll follow me, I'll take you right down."

Jamie and Ford exchanged a quick glance of surprise, but they obediently fell in step behind her past several glass enclosed offices and meeting rooms with beautiful views of South Mountain and the city below.

Jamie caught sight of Grady first behind the glass wall of the largest room they had passed. He was seated at a highly polished wooden table surrounded by plush leather chairs that took over the majority of the room, leaving only enough space for a small table with an ice bucket, napkins, and a plate of what appeared to be homemade cookies to rest. In the far corner, a tall potted plant soaked up the sunshine streaming in through the plate glass windows. Across from Grady sat another man in a dark-gray suit that matched the color of his neatly trimmed hair. He was laughing at something Grady had said but stopped and turned in their direction when he saw Grady's attention turn to the door.

"So our guests have arrived," he said heartily when the receptionist opened the door. "Welcome, Miss Jamie!"

Coming to his feet, he approached Jamie first. His hand stretched out and grasped hers very energetically. When he released her and turned to Ford, she took a step back in relief.

"Come in, come in," he continued, "have a seat. Brenda, why don't you pour these two some water?"

Jamie opened her mouth to decline, but the receptionist was faster. Lifting the lid off the ice bucket, she used tongs to fill up two glasses and pulled two bottles of water from the small fridge tucked away in the cabinet of the table. Jamie followed the glass, taking a seat next to Grady where Brenda placed a small cocktail napkin and her water down. Smiling her thanks, she returned her attention to the lawyer.

He was tall and trim, the strength in his hand belying the age on his face. A figure of distinguished gentleman, Ted Beach appeared every bit as intelligent as she could have hoped. Her spirits lifted as he turned his attention away from Ford and pulled his chair back out.

"So I'll tell you a little bit about me and answer any questions you have, and then you can tell me what you know, Jamie."

When she nodded, he glanced at Grady. "Grady's filled me in on a bit of your situation, and I think it's a good thing that you came in. I'm a criminal lawyer, but I also specialize in appellate law as well. I've been practicing for twenty-four years in the state of Arizona, and I've also practiced in Nevada. I've been with this firm for twenty-years now, and we cover everything from civil to criminal law, including DUI and child support and custody. So as you see, we're multi-faceted but also very dedicated to what we do. There are no half-measures here. We care about doing what's right.

"Our legal team is composed of bar-certified lawyers, paralegals and investigators that review cases and put together the best defense available. In your situation, or I should say that man that has been convicted, he'd be looking at filing a Rule 32 PCR or post-conviction relief appeal. That would mean an appellate brief must be written, describing what has changed and why his conviction should be overturned. It will take quite a bit of time, where he would need to have his legal team go over every word in his trial to pick out possible mistakes or oversights. Hopefully, he would have a good team on his side, as it's usually a one-shot deal. You, as a new witness, would need to complete a deposition to be admitted into evidence and may receive a summons to testify if he's granted a second trial."

She nodded.

"The appellate brief has to be concise and detailed, and the stronger ones usually see a better outcome. Again, a good appellate lawyer is needed for the best chances of success. He or she will also need to put together a new defense for obvious reasons. For instance, the first trial had a guilty outcome... why? A new trial has to have that stronger defense, or the conviction will stand. Once the PCR is submitted on his behalf, it's reviewed by the appeals court. That could take months, and there's no guarantee that they'll approve anything, depending on how strong the prosecution's case is. Remember, these appeals could be landmark decisions and therefore are carefully considered so that their decisions are not criticized later."

Listening carefully, Jamie had periodically nodded her head encouragingly, but as the reality of the situation sunk in she glanced over at Grady. Her shifting gaze caused Ted to pause.

"Your situation doesn't sound like anything groundbreaking or precedent-setting, Jamie. Don't let that scare you."

Ford leaned forward, taking the break in the conversation as an opportune moment to interject. "Aren't there deadlines? Is Jamie too late to help him?"

Ted turned to Ford. His smile was still patient and broad. "Usually PCR's are filed within 90-days. However, since Jamie wasn't located during his initial trial, that timeline can be waived. The important thing is to make sure that the facts are clear and strong in his favor... Which brings me back to you, Jamie. Can you tell me what you know? We can see how strong his case is."

All eyes turned to her at that moment, and Jamie once again told her version of the story. Ted listened carefully, nodding at appropriate times and enthusiastically widening his eyes when she finished her story with his truck following her up to Clay's. When she finished, his lips compressed together, and he nodded his head slowly.

"You haven't seen or spoken to this man since that night?"

"No, not at all."

"And you didn't know him prior?'

"No, I had never met him before."

"But you're confident it was him?"

"Yes, I remembered his face and his name."

"Is there any way you could have mistaken his face?"

She shook her head. "I don't think so. You see, he had this scar by his eye. I remembered it when he smiled."

"You say that the prosecution had witnesses who identified him leaving with the victim, but you say that he left with you just a few minutes later?"

"Yes, that's right. I thought it was because we both had black jackets on and dark hair."

"Could be, or it could be that another man left with her, someone similar to _him_."

Jamie had never thought of that. "I really wouldn't know, but I suppose it's possible."

He shook his head. "Don't suppose, Jamie. Don't elaborate – ever. I didn't expect you to know the answer to that."

Feeling chastised, she abruptly closed her mouth. Grady was not daunted, and his quick mind latched on to the possibilities. "So those transcripts should be carefully reviewed, as well as all of the surveillance that night."

"Exactly. That's just one possibility. The other, of course, is that they confused Jamie with the victim." He glanced at her with a smile. "You have a good recollection, but do you have any proof?"

"I still have the jacket I wore that night, and I've emailed my girlfriend for photos. She's going to send me the digital copies."

"That's good."

He sat back in his seat and cupped his chin in his hand as he stared beyond Jamie and Grady to the scenic view behind them. Just like Ford, his eyes took on a faraway look while he pondered. Grady nudged Jamie under the table, his smile encouraging and proud. Apparently he approved of her story, and it appeared as though he concluded Ted did as well. She smiled back and then looked at Ford, who also nodded his head approvingly. Jamie felt bolstered, more confident, and even a little bit hopeful.

After another few minutes of thinking, Ted sighed thoughtfully. "There were statistics released by the Department of Justice not so long ago stating that on average between eight-to-twelve percent of convictions are wrong, and that the person convicted was innocent. With new DNA testing, even old cases are being reviewed and overturned. Men and women who have served years are suddenly being heard and listened to. There are non-profit organizations out there such as the ACLU and the Innocence Project that do everything they can to help those who fight to prove their innocence. Unfortunately, it's a lengthy and very expensive task. It doesn't happen overnight."

"So what do you think his chances are? Should I go through with this?" Jamie asked hesitantly.

"Of course you should," he replied. "This man might've been wrongfully convicted and is now serving time. Now, I don't have access to his trial transcripts and have no knowledge of what evidence they had that proved his guilt at the time, whether there was DNA evidence left at the scene or multiple other things, but with what you have told me I feel there is enough doubt that he could have made it back to the scene with the timeline they described."

"That's good, right?" Ford asked.

"In his case, yes."

"So what do we do now?" Grady asked.

"Get in touch with his lawyer. Start there and make sure he's still representing him. If he is, he may need help with an appeal. You can tell him that you've spoken to me, and he can contact me with any questions. I'll do what I can to help."

"Ted, that's great," Grady said. "Even with your caseload?"

"Well," he said with a chuckle. "There's never a good time or an easy time, but I won't let you down."

Jamie and Ford exchanged nervous smiles, but Grady came to his feet and reached across the table to pump Ted's hand enthusiastically. Though Grady was the soft-spoken one in their family, Jamie was impressed with his self-assured confidence at that moment. He certainly had friends in good places.

"We all hope this ends well, Ted, and your input today has definitely given us hope."

"I'm glad to hear it."

He came to his feet, and Jamie followed his lead. After shaking hands again, he guided them out the door and led them back down the hall, sharing small talk with Grady as they went. Jamie and Ford led the way, both feeling trepidation about what was to come.

They said their farewells and returned to the elevator, where the three remained silent and trapped in their thoughts until the doors opened and the elevator proved empty. Once inside, Grady placed his hand on Jamie's shoulder and smiled.

"You did well, Jame," he said. "Are you ready to do it again?"

She took a deep breath and exhaled heavily. Her mind was spinning like a top, whirling with thoughts and concerns. What Ted had told her made her feel even more remorse that she had not been available during his initial trial to prevent what had happened. "I think I'm as ready as I'll ever be. The real question is whether or not he's ready for me."

Though Ford and Grady chuckled, Jamie was serious, and time would show just how right she was.

### Chapter 5

The desert was brown in the winter.

Though Andrew grew up in the desert and knew the scent of the rain and the taste of the dust by heart, he still found winter depressing. The sun still shone nearly every day during those drearier months, which encouraged the influx of winter visitors with their motor homes and blue license plates. However, for him, seeing the short burst of green in the spring and during the monsoon season had always been more of a pleasure than the mild weather and sunshine of winter.

The property his grandmother owned had always been well maintained and beautifully landscaped every spring, and when he closed his eyes he still remembered seeing her on her hands and knees before her accident, planting perennials every spring until the yard around her house and barn was splashed with every imaginable color. Combined with the beautiful flowers of the blooming cacti and sage bushes on her property, her yard was a veritable rainbow of life. It was his favorite time of year and brought back some happy memories, unfortunately too few to live by.

All of that was gone now. His grandmother was confined to a wheelchair and had been unable to plant flowers since before he joined the military. In addition, his current abode was surrounded by brownish-red dirt that blew relentlessly, overgrown mesquite trees that had become mostly brown despite a few carrying a tinge of green leaves left over from the fall, and brown walls topped with razor wire. The ugliness of the barren surroundings reminded him of his brief sojourn though the Middle East, a time in his life that he would gladly forget. Adding to that were gray fences, grey bars and gray skies that currently threatened a rare Arizona winter storm. He wondered if Florence would get a good solid dousing of rain. The rain would turn the yard to mud, and he could not imagine anything more unpleasant.

Life was great.

Not.

Even if life was not what he wanted it to be, he was at the point now where he realized that it still could be much worse.

At least he was not on death row.

He still thought about his conversation with Darren almost daily and still could not change his mind. As he had heard on multiple occasions, "isn't everyone in jail innocent?" What was the use in fighting it when no one and everyone would believe him anyway? If he were to speak aloud, the guards would nod their heads knowingly and tell him to move on, while the other inmates would cheer and laugh at his determination to be right. So he remained silent, as silent as the ghost he was known as by the other inmates. He had resigned himself to his fate and was trying to make the best of what his life had become. The dream that someday some smoking bombshell would appear that would shed the truth in light still occurred to him every now and then, but he stubbornly bit it back as he grew accustomed to the reality of what really was.

His life was over. His dreams were gone. He was beaten. Until the bombshell appeared, he refused to hold his breath or dream.

In reality, as his days passed and he learned more about prison life, he came to the conclusion that it was not much different than his time in Afghanistan. Though there was violence, it was not something he was unfamiliar with. For years, he had lived in hastily thrown-up camps, wandering through the mountain towns, speaking to elders and risking running into Taliban members eager to take a shot at them. Though the fighting in the northern part of the country ceased fairly quickly during those early years, he remembered the same sort of discomfort that he was experiencing now. Cold in the winter, hot in the summer, blending in with the locals that would smile one day and then shoot at you the next, all of that was something he had grown accustomed to in the months before his arrest. That was all he had known before returning to his country after his medical discharge.

The trick in both those situations was to find a routine and stick with it. Once he had overcome the biting sting of his depression, he had been able to find one rather quickly. An opportunity to remain busy appeared through work. While it was in the bakery, it was still something to occupy his time and prevent him from going completely mad from frustration. He woke early in the mornings and made his way to work where he spent the next several hours preparing baked goods. Instead of cleaning guns, he cleaned pans. Rather than rounding up bad guys, he was the bad guy. How dramatically his life had changed in such a short time.

Late at night as he lay awake listening to other's snores, he wondered what exactly the universe was trying to tell him. What was his purpose in life? Was it to be the valiant war hero he had come home as, or a convicted felon of a crime he did not commit? The more he thought, the more incensed he got. How ironic life was.

The irony of his life seemed exceptionally enhanced today. What had begun as another tedious morning was abruptly interrupted with the surprise call from his lawyer the day before. He had not spoken to Darren Walters in... he could no longer remember. It had to be at least since he had announced that he was no longer interested in fighting his conviction. If the authorities wanted him to rot in jail for a crime he did not commit, so be it. When his own brother believed the worst, he realized it was time to be done fighting to non-listening ears. His announcement had promptly led to an argument with probably his last remaining friend and advocate beyond his grandmother, but Andrew had held firm. They had not spoken since the holidays for sure because Andrew did not receive anything that year for Christmas.

Out of the blue, Darren called to tell him that he made an appointment to come out to see him. His lawyer was not forthcoming with why, but Andrew suspected that Darren felt enough time had passed for them to discuss his appeal. All Darren would admit was that new information had been received.

Andrew was suspicious. What this information could possibly be was unknown. He had learned a lot over the last decade and believing the impossible was not one of them. However, he did find himself staring at the clock every few minutes, anxiously waiting until it was time to go down to the visitation room.

A practice in patience and fortitude, he stood silently as he was patted down by a stone-faced and hard-headed guard, and his face was completely shuttered when he caught sight of his attorney entering the room a few moments later. Darren's eyes were glowing with excitement, and he looked as though he was ready to burst at the seams. Despite his best efforts, Andrew felt a leap in his heart at the sight. He forced it back in disgust.

Taking a seat across from him, Darren immediately sat forward. He was grinning from ear to ear. His glasses were spotted with what appeared to be rain drops, and his suit was crumpled as though he had slept in it. One button was open, granting Andrew a view of his paunch belly. The urgency with which he had approached coupled with his disheveled appearance again gave Andrew pause. Darren was not normally one to appear so out of sorts. His excitement alone caught Andrew off guard, for Darren was one of the most composed men he knew.

"We found her."

Andrew was not sure he heard correctly. "What did you say?"

"We found her, Andrew," Darren said quickly. He waved a hand impatiently. "Or rather she found us. Whatever the case, she's here, and she's talking."

Though they were words he had longed to hear ever since he had left that bar the evening of Kit's murder, he doubted his ears just as he doubted Darren. "Who are you talking about?"

Still in disbelief, Andrew noticed that his hands had started to shake. Though he warned himself against raising his hopes, he could not stop the rapid tattoo of his heart or the sweat that moistened his palms. His body was reacting even before he heard the name that had haunted him for the last four years.

"Jamie Morton, Andrew."

Jamie. He never did get her surname, but boy did he remember her first. His voice cracked when he answered. "My witness?"

Darren nodded enthusiastically. He could not hide his excitement and laughed aloud. "Your witness and more – your alibi, Andrew."

"My alibi?"

"Yes, your alibi! Don't you see? We can proceed with the PCR now. We have her, and she's very cooperative."

Andrew's chest grew tight as he struggled to get a breath. While his lungs stopped functioning, the color faded from his face, and he knew that Darren noticed his shock when his lawyer's grin slowly faded. "Are you okay?"

"I – uh, I don't know."

Andrew took several deep breaths before lowering his head to the table. Breathe, he reminded himself. His hands fell to his lap, and he stared down at them through blurred vision. They were trembling. All over he was shaking, from head to toe. These reactions were not new to him. He had been having episodes since his time in Afghanistan, full-blown panic attacks that had been diagnosed when he began having night terrors. A form of post-traumatic stress disorder now self-treated since his incarceration.

"Andrew, I know this is a shock, but this is really good," Darren said encouragingly. "I've met her. She gave very detailed information. She had an impeccable memory about that night, and everything she said matches what you told us from the beginning. She has things – photos, a black jacket from that night, and two other witnesses who corroborate her story. I've been working with another lawyer to file your appellate brief. There's a whole team ready to go over the case and write it up."

"How is this possible? Hasn't the deadline passed by now?"

"No, this is new information."

"How?"

"We're able to prove that we looked for her before to no avail. That was easy. Since we tried to find her but couldn't, it proves that we were diligent in trying to obtain this information but didn't have it at the time of your trial. This girl is the smoking gun to clear you, and that could result in your acquittal."

"No," he whispered. "How did you find her?"

"She found me, actually." Darren chuckled again. "She recently moved back to the Valley and saw your case on TV. When she realized that it was you, she contacted this lawyer I spoke to, and he had her contact me. We spoke on the phone first, and then she came down to my office. She had date-stamped photos from a digital camera that her friend mailed her and the black jacket with her. I spoke to the two other witnesses this morning, and they were able to corroborate what she told me. She's legit, Andrew."

Darren laughed again, but Andrew could not find the same enthusiasm. He was still shaking all over and feared the lightheadedness from his inability to breathe would make him collapse. This episode was coming on more rapidly than his previous ones, most likely due to the shock to his system. Pushing the chair out, he stumbled to his feet. He reached out and grasped the chair back to support his weak legs as a wave of dizziness washed over him, aware that the closest posted corrections officer was watching him intently.

"I can't do this right now," he whispered. "I've got to go."

"Wait Andrew! Don't go. This is it. We can win this."

He shook his head. "I can't do this anymore. I told you that."

"But she's here and willing to talk. Give her a chance – give me a chance."

"I've given America everything I have, and they locked me in prison. I can't go through it again," he said in a low voice.

"You can. We can win this."

He did not turn around or acknowledge Darren, but he could hear his lawyer's chair scrape against the floor as he pushed it back. His voice was loud when he called out for him to wait.

Ignoring Darren's call, he stumbled toward the door, disregarding the curious stares and suspicion on the guard's faces. He held up his hands, aware that his face was white, and all his repressed emotions must have been plainly exposed on his face. Apparently feeling indulgent, they let him pass with only a nod in his direction for which Andrew felt thankful. At that moment, all he wanted to do was get back to his cell. He needed the elusive privacy to collect his thoughts and think. He needed to regain control of his brain and his overworked and exhausted mental health.

Jamie was back.

### ***

During Andrew's first few months home, he did not sleep.

He was tired beyond imagining those days, so tired that his eyes would drift closed even while he was standing. However, every time his consciousness slipped away, the scenes would return. Despite the time that had passed since he had first enlisted, he could still see his first casualty, a combatant whose legs had been blown off by a thrown grenade. He had spoken to Andrew in Pashto just before he passed. Though it was a language that Andrew had never completely mastered, he remembered the disdain and hatred in the dying man's words. They haunted him in his dreams.

Though Andrew had heard that hundreds of returning soldiers came home with some form of post-traumatic stress disorder, he never believed it would happen to him. After he went to live with his grandparents, he had been a confident and happy child, excelled in his studies, and never once shied from his duty. However, by the time he came home from war, he had nightmares.

Feeling as though he was tough enough to handle it on his own, Andrew kept his nightmares to himself. He did not tell his doctors about them following the injury that ended his military career. The blast from the IED had caused extensive trauma to his head and neck, and he had been more concerned with staying alive at the time. Even now, he was more thankful that he had only lost most of the sight in his left eye rather than his whole head. During his recovery, he had gained a new outlook on life and death; he thought he could manage his scars.

Then he was charged.

The nightmares returned with a vengeance after his arrest. While his anxiety and depression had served him well during his initial days in prison, his uncontrollable anger and silent-but-deadly reaction times had earned him the nickname of "Ghost." His tenuous hold on his temper worked its magic when he first entered, as did his fighting skills. The other inmates learned rather quickly that he was unpredictable and angry; luckily, not one to be messed with.

Which did not mean he was not initiated. He had been busted up within his first few days for not affiliating himself with his kind. While he had wanted to ignore the racial tensions in the prison altogether, keeping to himself was not an option. Racial identity was never forgotten. There were the Chicanos, the Woods, the Chiefs and the Kinfolk, each depicting a different race, and each race sticking with one another. Prison life was highly structured in this way, and he learned the hard way with a trip to medical to recover after being attacked by two Woods.

He still preferred to remain alone, but he had taken his side once he was released as a means of survival. The only other option was to be 'rolled up' and sent to the hole. That idea he shelved rather quickly, for remaining locked in his cell in solitary confinement for all but one hour a day for the rest of his life was too unbearable to think of. However, he had not forgotten, and he had timed his revenge carefully. Shock and awe. When he sent the two that had ambushed him off to medical, his skills in deadly hand-to-hand combat had been spread via whispers among the rest of the population, granting him a reputation. The nickname and the fear that went with it was the only thing he had been proud to claim during his time in. He still moved in silence when he wanted to, and his hands were still able to slice a throat in one swipe if necessary. Those skills, he would never forget. He was, after all, a well-trained assassin.

His highly tuned survival instincts and abilities served him after his initiation, and his career in the military had taught him well. He had learned to blend, to fit in and to disappear among the locals. Instead of sporting a beard and long hair, wearing casual clothes and blending with Afghanis, he was now disappearing among the gangs in the prison. He kept his mouth shut and did what he was told, granting his voice to only two or three people in his block that he almost trusted.

Almost.

One of those was a kid who made a big mistake that had caused a teenage girl to lose her life. On his 24th birthday, following two prior DUI arrests, Billy "Smack" Zak drank a case of beer and got behind the wheel. He drove like an Indy car driver down a Phoenix street, topping out at speeds over 90 MPH before hitting a seventeen-year-old girl walking home from a bus stop after work. Due to his prior arrests, he was promptly found guilty and sentenced to 27 years. Before he was completely sober, he was Andrew's bunkmate.

Smack was a tall, thin kid, with two front teeth lost in a fight during his first week in prison. He had entered the cell with plenty of bluster that first day, but Andrew had ignored him and gone back to sleep. As their cell grew dark, Andrew heard the soft sniffling from the kid for most of the night. Those first nights of sheer terror and desperation were not unfamiliar, and after a week of allowing the kid the privacy of expressing his fear, he finally spoke.

Three words were all he said. "It gets easier."

He had never let on that he heard Smack's night crying. He never gave the kid any indication that he knew how tormented and guilty the kid felt inside. Not until the seventh night, when he thought he would go mad by the muffled sounds of grief. Those three words were the beginning of what was to become a hero worship on behalf of Smack for Andrew. Over the following months, Andrew took the kid under his wing and shared his story with him. He also taught him as much as he could about how to survive.

Smack was waiting in their cell when he returned, but one look at Andrew's face caused him to look away respectfully. He returned his attention to the letter in his hands while Andrew was un-cuffed and released back into the cell. His face remained averted as Andrew sank heavily on his bunk and began his deep-breathing meditation exercises to regain control. Once he felt a little more human, he slipped from the bunk and started his yoga sequence. The series of twenty-five to thirty poses did not eliminate his anxiety, but it did prevent him from losing complete control. The meditation helped him clear his mind, and Smack had seen it enough times to know when to keep his mouth shut.

Andrew's mind was still numb with shock. The shock to his system was as strong as a blast from an IED, and the adrenalin rush he experienced when he heard Darren speak was comparable to coming under heavy fire yards away from his unit. At the moment, he needed to clear his thoughts and regain control. He did all thirty poses before he was feeling a little more human.

But he still did not speak.

Smack had re-read his letter over and over again during the hour that Andrew concentrated. He wisely remained quiet in his bunk, respecting Andrew's need for silence and focus. He had learned well after only having one run-in with Andrew's rage. It was a scene Andrew knew he did not want to repeat.

Following his final pose, he came to his feet and went to the sink, washing his face with cupped hands held under the tap. Small rivulets of water dripped down his cheeks and chin, sliding down his neck and staining the top of his shirt. Still ignoring Smack, Andrew returned to his bunk and lay down, resting his head on his cupped hands and staring wide-eyed at the ceiling.

After another hour of silence, Smack finally sat up and faced Andrew. "You okay?"

Andrew did not look at him. "Yeah."

"What did your lawyer tell you? You looked like hell coming in."

"Not now," Andrew growled.

Smack nodded his narrow head and lay back down on his cot, reaching for a book lying open beside him. As he began reading again, Andrew closed his eyes. While granted a temporary reprieve from the questions, he knew that Smack would not let it go. One thing about the kid was that he was tenacious and curious, two very dangerous qualities in their current abode. Smack was lucky he was more patient than most.

Now, he wondered if his renowned patience would finally pay off.

After a sleepless night, Andrew rose in the morning with a large chip on his shoulder and a scowl on his face. He completed his work, intent on returning to his bunk and crashing for the afternoon. Unfortunately, Smack was there, bouncing like a tweaker ready for his next fix.

"Ready yet?"

Knowing that he would not relent until he was given at least some information, Andrew sighed heavily. Sometimes sharing the close quarters with an immature kid was more of a trial than being bunked up with a gang member. "Not really."

"At least tell me everything's cool."

"I don't know yet."

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Smack moved to the small bench in the cell, a frown expressed on his entire face. His brow wrinkled, and his nose flared as his lips turned down. Smack had one of the most expressive faces he had ever seen, so similar to his own before he schooled a very private and closed countenance. Now he held his tongue and maintained his silence, keeping to a code he had honored for years.

"So what happened?"

Andrew sighed again. Though Smack knew the details of his story and was probably one of those who did not believe him, he was hesitant to elaborate. It was his own fear to verbalize what had occurred that stopped him. Voicing it aloud would make it real, and he was not yet prepared emotionally for that possibility. Nevertheless, he took a deep breath and let it out in a rush before facing his cellmate or "cellie."

"My witness is back in the Valley. She came forward."

Smack jumped up from his seat as though a fire had been lit under the chair. He began dancing nervously around the cell. "Man, she's real?"

Andrew sent Smack a scowl. "Of course she's real."

"Well, you know what I mean. I mean, everyone here says that there was someone else who did it and that they're in here wrongfully. I just..."

"I know."

Smack colored when he heard the resignation in Andrew's voice. "She's the hot chick that you hit on that night, right?"

"You could put it that way," Andrew said wryly.

Thinking about it, Andrew decided that Smack had summed it up rather well actually. Jamie had been a beautiful girl, and he had spent many nights wondering what could have happened if she had been a little intoxicated and not engaged at the time. Hell, he was only human.

"Don't you think it's every guy's fantasy in here to have some hot chick come forward and save his ass?"

Though he was not in a smiling mood, Andrew did feel the corner of his mouth deepen. Leave it to Smack to state the obvious.

"I suppose. I hadn't really thought about it."

"Damn, dude. For someone so smart, educated and experienced, you really are a dumbass."

Andrew again sent him a foreboding look, but Smack continued. He was pumped up, still dancing around the room like a tweaker again. Excitement made his face glow. "How are you upset about this? Isn't this good news?"

Having been his cellmate for three years, Smack knew a lot about Andrew. That included his nightmares and anxiety. He had seen Andrew at his lowest on several occasions and had stuck to his bunk with his back turned in an effort to give Andrew the same privacy he had afforded the kid when he had first arrived. Though he respectfully did not mention Andrew's periodic spells, the unspoken question remained between them.

"It was a shock I wasn't prepared for."

Nodding in understanding, the kid grinned widely. "This is your chance, dude. You're gonna get out of here."

Those were not words he wanted to hear. He had long ago decided against believing that would ever come true. "Don't say that," he warned tightly.

"But your lawyer's gonna to file an appeal, right?"

"He wants to."

"That means you're gonna get a new trial."

"Doubt it."

"How can you doubt that? If she's for real, your time here's limited."

Shaking his head, Andrew turned to Smack full on for the first time since the meeting. He pierced the kid with his pale gaze in a serious look that made the young man flinch. "I can't believe that, Smack. I just can't."

How many times had he dreamed that this day would come? How many times had he gone over the scenario in his mind that Jamie would come forward and tell the truth? Her face and smile had imprinted itself in his brain. She was the last woman he had spoken to before his arrest, and the last woman he had felt an attraction to in a long time. However, in the years that had passed, so much had changed.

In his heart, he really did not believe freedom was possible, and even more frightening for him was the idea that he did not believe he could take the continued strain without breaking.

He was no longer strong enough.

### Chapter 6

Spring 2011

The high court's decision was promising and frightening at the same time. Eventually the decision was made, and the court found enough new evidence to grant a new trial. Darren was jubilant when he passed on the news to Jamie. While that meant that she would now be called to testify, she was more confident than ever that what she was doing was right. They believed her. They felt that there was enough information to reinvestigate the evidence against him, and that proved in her mind that he _had_ to be innocent. No man should be unjustly accused and convicted, especially when that meant that the real man responsible for Kit's death was still out there, perhaps at risk of doing it again.

With these galvanizing thoughts to support her decision, she went through the motions and prepared to speak aloud what she knew. Darren and Ted had warned her that it would not be an easy thing, for her or for the rest of the parties involved. However, Darren promised that he would be there with her, a friendly face in the crowd. The enthusiasm and excitement he expressed whenever she spoke to him gave her courage.

Surely, if his defense attorney felt so strongly that his client was innocent, Andrew had to be. She would speak what she knew and then it would fall to a new jury to decide whether he was guilty or innocent a second time around. With the increasing belief that he was innocent came a crippling fear. How would she feel if they found him guilty again? Could she retain any faith in humanity? Darren promised her all would be fine, but Jamie was worried.

In the months that had passed since Grady had accompanied her to see Darren Walters, she had learned a lot more about the man who was serving time for the murder of Kit Romano. Darren was very forthcoming about his client, his achievements, and his overwhelming fear to believe in the miracle that was Jamie.

A life sentence. A life stolen. A good life at that from what she was hearing, and, in her mind, he had grown from the man who had charmingly hit on her to a true American hero who was stoically paying the price for another man's crime.

Raised by his grandparents with one younger brother, Andrew Sheehan was a decorated Special Forces sergeant with time served in Afghanistan. After high school, he had attended college on a football scholarship, obtaining a degree in structural engineering. While he had planned to continue on and obtain his master's, he ended off going to war instead after the tragedy of September 11th. When Jamie told Darren that it was his scar that confirmed his identity in her mind, Darren casually mentioned Andrew had decided to remain in the military until an IED explosion nearly killed him and put him out on a medical discharge during his second tour. Andrew Sheehan never had a speeding ticket. The guy was as straight laced as could be, which made the tragedy even worse for Jamie to bear.

Though her brothers fully supported her, outside of her immediate family tensions were high. While Kit's supporters were in an uproar about going through another trial, others were fully backing Andrew Sheehan. Jamie went through her days prior to the trial with her head down, avoiding all newscasts and praying her anonymity would be protected since the local news had taken an interest in Andrew's side of the story as the date of his retrial approached. Where once he was condemned; now he was venerated. Darren told her during one of their meetings that Andrew had long ago decided to give in to his fate and stop fighting because his hopes were constantly being dashed. The way public opinion turned one way versus the other made Jamie understand why. Her heart ached for the injustice.

During the final days before the trial, Jamie spent time with Andrew's legal team, preparing for questioning and elaborating on the details of her story. Though she had refreshed her memory when she had written out the account of that evening, she was unable to answer some of the pointed questions they asked her. They advised her very matter-of-factly to only tell what she knew for a fact instead of guessing. It was virtually the same thing Grady and Ted had told her so long ago. Continuing on in his urgent and enthusiastic way, Darren advised her that if she did guess, she could ruin her credibility and blow everything.

Jamie shuddered at the thought.

The morning of her testimony dawned dry and hot. She had pulled out her best suit for the occasion the night before, a conservative black pantsuit with a high collared, white silk blouse. To complete her professional look, she swept her thick mahogany hair in an updo. Though she was determined to make a good impression on the jury, she also realized as she lay awake that night that this would be the first time she saw Andrew since they had met on that fateful night. During her drive to the court complex, she worried how that would go. Admittedly, she was nervous about what she was doing and about his reaction to her. Over the last several months of preparation for the new trial, she had not heard from him once, even though she knew that he was very much aware of her involvement in his new case. Darren's stories of his reluctance to try again had frightened her. In fact, she was not sure if he even appreciated her presence. That her involvement might be causing him additional pain triggered such an emotional response in her that she feared she would turn to jelly if he even scowled in her direction.

The traffic on the highway was light that morning, and she arrived with plenty of time to spare. Adding to her luck, she was able to find a parking spot in the lot adjacent to the courthouse complex, and Hayden was already there waiting for her near the front steps. Despite the early hour, the parking lot and entrance were surprisingly busy, so Hayden had picked a spot to wait off to the side of the steps where he could find shade from the hot Arizona sun under the canopy of a well-established mesquite tree.

His smile was broad when he saw her approach, and she felt a surge of gratitude that he was accompanying her. She embraced him in a tight and grateful hug, taking in his formal attire with measuring eyes. So used to seeing him in his casual clothes, she had never realized how handsome and serious he could be when he chose. His suit was of a good, quality cut, and knowing him she assumed it came from Nordstrom or Dillard's. The navy silk blend filled out his tall build nicely, so she gave him a sisterly whistle of appreciation.

"Pretty slick, Hayden."

He chuckled cheerfully. "Surprisingly, I could say the same for you. Work clothes, I presume?"

"Of course. You think I wear this kind of stuff daily?"

"Not even for that slug you've been dating?"

Though laughter was the last thing on her mind at the moment, Jamie was so caught off guard when he raised a brow that a short burst of mirth erupted from her stiff lips. "Slug? Really?"

"Sure. He's an accountant, for goodness sake. Seriously? How stodgy can you get?"

"I've only gone on two dates with George," Jamie protested. "And he's not a slug. He's actually a really funny guy."

"There is no such thing as an accountant with a sense of humor," he retorted. His chin lifted toward the sky in an arrogant pose. "They're famous for being dry and humorless, tall and thin, with glasses and baggy clothes."

"You have not described George at all, you silly snob," she replied with a smile. "Thanks for that though, I appreciate the laugh."

She also appreciated his loyalty, for he had taken the day off to support her, even though it meant sitting in the hallway the entire morning. At that moment, she needed all the support she could get despite his teasing.

"I figured as much," he said with a wink.

"Thanks for coming with me today," she said.

"Not a problem. I figured you might need a friendly smile." He nudged her with his shoulder affectionately. "Do you want to get lunch after since we're both playing hooky from work? You can fill me in on this paragon you've been seeing."

"That sounds great."

"All right. Ready to go in?"

She nodded. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Knowing that they had to pass through security screening, Jamie had left everything but her identification and keys in her car. The items that she did bring fit easily in the tray that passed through the x-ray, and she was quickly waved through. Hayden followed close behind, and they stood in the entry in an attempt to determine which room was their courtroom.

People of all ages and sizes, in various shades of dress and socio-economic status mingled around them. To her, it was organized chaos. There were lines at every window, and none of them seemed to have the label she needed for direction. The information desk was not any better, with a sour-looking woman and security guard staring at an elderly gentleman with very little patience. She turned to Hayden.

"Any suggestions?"

"Look for the lawyer?"

"He'd be in the room already, wouldn't he?"

"Good point."

While she paused and glanced around, Hayden crossed the wall to a posted list. He grinned at her over his shoulder. "It's here."

She scanned the list until she saw the courtroom she needed. A sign above the hallway indicated which way to go, so she tugged on Hayden's arm and headed down a maze of bland white corridors to the correct room.

"At last," Hayden said theatrically.

Jamie glanced at the closed wooden door. There was no sound coming from the room, and she wondered if the day's proceedings had begun. Darren's secretary had told her that she would have to wait to be called, so she found an uncomfortable-looking wooden bench to sit down on.

"Should we peek in?" Hayden asked, still hovering by the door.

"What if they've started already?"

Several pairs of eyes from down the hall swung in their direction. One helpful looking woman nodded toward them. "They all went in about fifteen-minutes ago."

Hayden sent Jamie a look that suggested not believing the woman, but Jamie shook her head and settled back to wait. After throwing her a sullen look, he joined her with a dramatic sigh. Within a minute or two, he was drumming his fingers against his thighs. Jamie rested her head back against the cool wall. Another minute or so later, Hayden's drumming extended to his feet. The tap, tap, tapping quickly elicited Jamie's ire.

"Seriously?"

"What?" Hayden protested in all innocence. "I'm bored. I wanted to see the trial."

"Like that's going to be any better?"

"Well, better than sitting out here like criminals."

"I'm not supposed to go in there because they worry that my testimony will be affected if I hear other people speak."

"This is going to be very boring," he muttered sourly.

She sighed heavily and sat back again. Sooner or later, someone would come find her. Until then, they just had to wait. Leave it to her to have her most impatient brother for company. He was bound to drive her crazy by the time she was called.

After a couple of minutes of squirming uncomfortably, Hayden turned back to her. "So fill me in on your new boyfriend. Who is he and what's he doing hitting on my little sister?"

Knowing he would not let her get off easy, she grimaced. She was not sure what she had been thinking when she had agreed to a second date with George. Perhaps it was that she was lonely. Or maybe she wanted to be friendly to her new next door neighbor. The man was divorced like her, except he owned the house he lived in while Jamie had just signed a lease on a rental in the same sprawling development that Ford, Ian and Grady lived in. There was no spark of passion, but he was nice enough.

"I'm not marrying the guy, Hayden. He's my new neighbor, and we've just had dinner."

"Twice?"

"Yes, twice, but that doesn't mean it's anything serious."

"Good, because you won't be allowed to marry again until the four of us give you explicit approval."

Having spoken, Hayden sat back on the bench and crossed his arms stubbornly. Jamie could feel the argument coming on but held her tongue for the moment. Right now, she could not think about George or her family's insistent overprotectiveness. She had to keep it together, even if it meant entertaining her man-child brother.

She sighed. It was going to be a long morning.

### ***

Though he had spent the last five years stuffing down any dreams that he would be vindicated, Andrew still took extra time with his appearance that morning. With Smack watching on and biting his lips to keep from gushing enthusiastically, Andrew washed up carefully and thoroughly. As he did so, he ignored his young cellie, feeling too nervous to admit that he feared an anxiety attack at any moment and too proud to allow the kid to see his overwhelming nerves. There was a time when he had nerves of steel. Today, he felt more anxiety than he had in even the worst of ambushes. To remain calm, he practiced his breathing and focused on making himself presentable for court.

While he made sure his goatee was trimmed neatly, he reminded his inner optimist that nothing was going to come of this new trial. For at least the hundredth time that week, he told himself that they would still convict him because they had no other suspects and he was the convenient choice. He had to keep the hope down. Then he brushed his teeth three separate times before he was convinced they were clean enough.

"You're not going to have any gums left," Smack commented wryly.

Andrew scowled at him. "At least I have teeth."

Laughing aloud, the kid wiggled his brows suggestively. "So you'll let me know if the chick's still hot, right?"

"Shut up, Smack."

"Ah, c'mon. I have needs, too."

Andrew could feel himself bristle, but he could not exactly fathom why. He had only met the woman once. However, she was the single person that held the keys to his life in her hands, and he had spent many nights fantasizing about her return. For all his dreaming, apparently he felt as though he knew her well. Now she was here, and he was both nervous and excited to see if his memory had played tricks on him or not.

When he did not answer, Smack's brows rose in surprise. "Okay, I get it. Hands off, right?"

"Whatever you say," Andrew muttered.

"I get it... I get it. It's all cool."

Andrew resumed ignoring the kid and finished his preparation, completing his tasks with enough time for the guards to escort him outside to the waiting bus.

Every day that he made the journey to the courthouse was like a breath of fresh air. Though his first trip in a vehicle after so long had been surprisingly uncomfortable from the resulting nausea, he felt his spirits rise over his carsickness at breathing prison-free air. Despite being shackled, it was the most freedom he had enjoyed since he went in. His eyes scanned either side of the road eagerly, and he was amazed at the changes in the East Valley in the almost five-years since he had been outside the walls of the prison.

Gold Canyon, once a small retirement community, now sported a shopping plaza and a few restaurants. Apache Junction, the city where his grandmother lived, now had housing developments lining the highway, and East Mesa was built up with a new strip mall and theater. These changes were just what he could see from the highway. He could only imagine how different things looked deeper into the respective cities. How fast things had changed.

It saddened him that he had missed all of the growth. Yet hidden deep within the recesses of his mind was the dream that it would not be long before he was once again out and about with these people, his new neighbors. No sooner did the thought escape than he was pinching himself as a reminder of his raising spirits.

Any glimmer of hope was tamped down again when he reached the prisoner access and was escorted in like the criminal he was labeled. Out of everything that had happened to him, all the wrongs he had faced and dealt with, that was the thing he hated the most. He was not a criminal and never had been. He loved and fought for his countrymen and women; he had put his life on the line to protect them, but none of these people cared or believed him. When the tide had turned, every last one of them looked at him as some kind of a monster, including his own brother who had chosen his career over his flesh and blood. His prior service and dedication to protect was forgotten, and in its place it was said that his duty had driven him crazy. Now he was the lowest form of life in the United States, and that had been the excruciatingly bitter pill to swallow.

Only one person remained loyal. However, he hated that his grandmother, the woman who had selflessly raised him and his brother single-handedly, appeared every day with her caregiver. She sat behind him, stoically offering him her silent support and averting her eyes from any reminder of his prison status.

Once in the containment room, he gave his appearance one last review. When he was first sentenced, he had decided to keep his head shaved completely to give the impression of where his loyalties lay, but with his new trial he decided to allow his hair to grow back in. Ignorance had never been a trait he associated with, and he knew he should appear as respectable as possible given the circumstances. Therefore, he made sure his dark brown hair was neat and not poking out in spots like some sort of comical clown, and he once more smoothed his goatee with trembling fingers. It was imperative that all impressions of him were as a professional adult. Today, that did not extend just to the jury.

Jamie was testifying today. With the consistent pounding of his heart and the nervous tremble in his hands, no one needed to tell him that he wanted to impress her, too. Though it pained him that she would see him in all his shame, he hoped that maintaining a well-groomed appearance would help soften the blow. His image of her had always been a lovely, smiling face in the darkness; today would be the day he would find out if that changed to disgust and fear.

The early morning was spent listening to the facts piled against him by the prosecutor's office, reliving the terror he had experienced all those years ago. It was an uncomfortable time for him, where he fought the urge to fidget in his seat. Several times, he battled back the impulse to run like a frightened jackrabbit, zigzagging through the benches searching for an escape route. He did not want to listen, did not even want to be there, but Darren had told him it would be in his best interests to have the jury see him. To him, it was torture. As they spoke, he could feel his chest tighten with his growing anxiety, but his studious breathing miraculously kept it under control.

Reliving those terrible details was hard for him, not just as the man accused of doing it but also as a human being. He could only imagine how the family felt. Though he had not turned to see who was present in the small room, he could feel the presence of others and sense the hostile stares on his back. Whether they were the girl's family or not, he did not know and did not want to know. In a show of uncustomary cowardice, he admitted that he just wanted everything to be over with.

While he battled his discomfort, the subject of the footprint was discussed. In his first trial, it had been explained away as belonging to a previous visitor perhaps before the murder, but this time around Darren stressed that the print was left only on the bedroom carpet, not in the hallway leading up to it or even in the living room. Like a skilled puppeteer, Darren weaved into a web the fine tendrils of suspicion. If the owner of a shoe two sizes smaller than Andrew's had been a visitor, surely they would have left a print in the main room rather than just in the bedroom near the window where the screen had been cut, right?

First reasonable doubt.

Preening like a proud peacock, Darren puffed his chest when he took his seat with a triumphant look in his eye that Andrew could not help but notice. Long, tension-filled moments passed as the prosecution finished their redirect... and then Jamie Morton was called.

Andrew tensed. This was it.

A moment later, he heard the door open, and then there was a pause during which the room fell silent. Ears straining and breath held in suspense, Andrew struggled to hear the voices in the hallway. They were mingled, some deep male ones and then the higher-pitched female one that he imagined was his potential savior. The clicking of heels against the white tiled floor echoed through the silent room, growing louder as she approached. Then she was alongside, a flash of black seen out of the corner of his eye while he struggled to maintain an expressionless face for the jurors. He wanted to look, to watch out of curiosity and interest as well as his desire to see her in the light. More than anything, he wanted to see if she still held that same captive quality that he had experienced all those long years ago, or if it had all been a dream from the dark reaches of a desperate mind.

She passed by on her way to the witness box, and he was granted a view of her black, suit-clad back. Though she carried herself with an unassuming confidence and self-assurance, he spotted a slight stiffness in her shoulders that belied her attempt at nonchalance. Even so, she was trim and elegant, with her thick, dark hair swept away from her face and piled atop her head. The memory of those mahogany tresses spilling over her shoulders suddenly came back to him. He had liked her hair, the way her gentle curls just begged to be touched.

Liking what he saw at first glance, he turned to Darren. His lawyer gave him a confident nod, so he refocused his attention back to the witness chair and watched her take a seat. She was glancing down and adjusting herself when the court reporter's voice rang out to swear her in. She turned to the jury.

"I do." Her voice was clear and steady and sounded like music to his ears.

Granted the view of her profile, he was elated to see that she had not changed very much from his memory of her. Her skin was still smooth and creamy, and her eyes were still her most prominent feature. Large and dark, she was most likely enveloping the jury in those mysterious depths in the same way she had him that night they met. That momentous night that had changed his life forever.

Then she faced forward, and Andrew's breath left in a long, unsteady whoosh. Her hands were tucked in her lap, but he could finally see her face. With a mixture of shock and shame, he realized everything about her was just as he remembered despite being a few years older. Damn, but she was pretty. The years had been good to her, granting her a maturity in her features, and the confidence of a self-assured woman. Once again, he hated that she had to see him like this.

While Andrew gawked, Darren came to his feet and began his questioning. The room was respectfully silent while Jamie answered. He liked the way her voice was crisp and clear, and she answered Darren's background questions with no hesitation, glancing at the jury occasionally when making a point. While he knew that Darren had explained to her how to act and how not to react, she did everything so flawlessly and naturally that he was certain the jury would find her a credible witness.

He heard the events of her night, how she started with dinner and dancing with friends before ending up at the bar for a nightcap. She explained that she was not drinking at that point because she was driving, a point that Darren stressed. Apparently, her level of intoxication would be a focus for the prosecution in an attempt to discredit her.

That anyone would try to attack her bothered him.

She had reached the point of going home for the evening, and how she met the victim at the bar. Darren slowed his questions here, making them more pointed and detailed for the jury. Jamie continued in her smooth tone, pausing only momentarily on occasion to collect her thoughts and think about her answers. Enraptured, Andrew watched her brow furrow at times when she concentrated. While she seemed to make a concerted effort to not look his way, she did glance over his head, and her eyes took on a faraway look as she returned to that night in her mind. Unable to resist her enchanting qualities, he did the same when she began to recount her run in with the victim.

He had long ago reached the point where he could not view the out-of-control girl as a person anymore. While he pitied the family for their loss, he had more than paid a price for her death. However, Jamie was painting her as a human, and it hurt him to hear her speak so patiently about Kit's behavior that night. She also mentioned the other people at their table that night, most notably the blonde that had testified against him.

Trying to appear busy, he hid his emotion behind his currently blank pad of paper in front of him. He could still hear Jamie's voice, discussing his initial conversation with her. The change in her tone of voice caught his attention, and he raised his head to meet her steady gaze for the first time. The amount of emotion in her dark, luminous brown eyes took him by surprise. She appeared sad, regretful, and even guilty. Unable to tear his gaze away, he watched in awe as her voice trembled with unreleased emotion while she gave her account of their interaction. She was firm when she recounted Kit's moments of illness, and how he had swung her out of the way. She was convincing as she rehashed how they walked out together. Most importantly, she was believable when she stated firmly that she allowed him to follow her home because she felt he was safe.

Darren nodded approvingly, and then asked her the most important question that was on everyone's mind. "Ms. Morton, can you say without any hesitation that the man who escorted you home is in this courtroom?"

She nodded. "I can."

"And can you point out that man?"

"Yes."

"Will you show us who it was that you met that night?"

She pointed to Andrew. "It's the defendant, Andrew Sheehan."

"Can you say without any doubt that Andrew Sheehan is the man that escorted you home that night, Ms. Morton?"

"Yes."

"How is that? You only met this man for a brief time, and the bar was in semi-darkness."

Her gaze remained on him intently again, and her voice lowered when she answered. "I know it's him."

"How?"

"The scar next to his eye. I remembered the scar because when he smiled at me it glowed."

A hushed pause, carefully directed by Darren's theatrical dramatics, fell over the courtroom. Jamie waited for further questions, but Darren was slow to speak. He was allowing her words to sink into the minds of the jury.

For the first time since the trail began, Andrew felt the heat of all eyes upon him. The jury members and the bystanders stared at him intently as though seeing him for the first time. They watched for a reaction, all of them but Jamie, who was still studying Darren closely, and it took all of his strength to not show what he really felt at that moment.

Satisfied, Darren stared at the jury members meaningfully. "I have no further questions at this time."

Reasonable doubt two.

### Chapter 7

The record was noted that the scar on his face – the one that had ended his military career and sent him back to the States with shrapnel trapped in his spine near his sixth cervical vertebra and nearly blind in one eye - was Jamie's means of identifying him after almost five years and only one brief encounter. He never thought that his injury would come in handy; in fact, he had always seen it as a failure. After his accident, he remembered his doctors in Germany discussing his wound, remarking that it would be "a permanent disability," and that he was a high risk due to "the foreign bodies left in his carotid sheath and his cervical spine" which were inoperable without the risk of death. They had not listened to his protests and had recommended a medical discharge. He had been sent home, a decorated soldier without a future in the military.

For the first time, his misfortune was working in his favor.

Though Darren continued to promote his immaculate record, gentlemanly behavior, and absolute alibi, Jamie still had to complete her cross examination. To her credit, she remained composed as the lead prosecutor came to his feet and introduced himself, and she refused to be baited as he attempted to cast doubt on her recollection. She remained patient while he picked out possible inconsistencies and prudently corrected him if he misinterpreted what she said.

The only time her composure slipped was when he focused on her sudden appearance after all the years that had passed. Sensing a weakness, John Bell directed his line of questioning into her past.

"And if you knew that the man who had been with you that evening had been charged with a crime, why didn't you come forward with the information then?"

She cleared her throat. "I didn't know the details of the situation he was in then. I heard from a friend after the fact that he had been charged and was scared at the time."

"Scared? Why?"

"I thought that I might've been lucky to escape from a possible predator."

"So you admit that you had enough doubt after the fact and thought it was possible he could have committed the crime?"

"Objection, Your Honor, speculation," Darren called out.

"I'll allow it," the judge replied.

Andrew felt Darren tense up beside him. He began scribbling notes on his pad as he waited for Jamie to answer.

"I didn't think it was possible, but I didn't know otherwise either."

"Yes or no, Ms. Morton."

She paused, but her eyes never left John's face. That was a good thing, for if she had allowed her gaze to search out Darren for encouragement it could have reflected poorly on them.

"Yes."

John nodded triumphantly.

"So you didn't come forward then because you thought you had escaped from a predator that night?"

"I've never been in a situation like that before. I never considered that my information would be needed..."

"Why did you think that?"

"Because I had only communicated with him for a few minutes; I didn't know him beyond that evening."

"So you watched the trial from a distance?"

"No. I didn't watch the trial. I heard about it after the fact and tried to put it behind me."

"You forgot about Andrew Sheehan?"

"I tried to, yes."

"Then what had made you come forward now?"

"When I moved back to Arizona, I saw a television program discussing the case and heard that they had looked for me. We had paid in cash that night, so no one was able to locate me or my friends. I had also married and changed my last name. I never knew that they were looking for me at the time."

"None of your friends mentioned it after hearing it on the news?"

She shook her head. "My family knew nothing about the events of that night. My girlfriends didn't follow the trial either."

"So you moved back to Arizona, saw the program on television and immediately came forward?"

"Yes. I would have done so sooner if I had known they were looking for me."

"Why is that?"

"Because I wanted to do what's right."

Good girl, Andrew thought. Too few people would have done the same.

Sensing that he had nowhere else to go, John ended his questioning. Darren returned to his feet.

"Redirect."

The judge nodded.

Darren came back around the table and approached Jamie with a smile of encouragement. "Jamie, how often do you allow strangers to follow you home?"

Jamie looked bemused at the question. "Not ever, beyond that one occurrence."

"So that was a one-time experience?"

"Yes."

"Can you tell us why that time was different?"

"I didn't feel threatened or pressured at the time. I thought he was a nice guy who was being a gentleman by making sure I made it home safely."

He nodded sagely. "Nothing further."

Though an expert at maintaining a neutral expression, Andrew felt as though everyone in the courtroom knew how frightened he was at that moment. Busying himself with watching Jamie, who was waiting patiently to be excused, he refused to meet Darren's hopeful gaze and ignored his lawyer's triumphant grunt as he sat back down. Behind him, he could hear his grandmother whispering eagerly to her caregiver – words that he could not hear but knew were expressing an "I told you so" to the lady beside her. Everyone seemed to be abuzz with this new information – everyone including him.

Yes, things had become clearer in this trial, but he still refused to dream.

After all, things could still go wrong.

### ***

Jamie's knees were shaking, trembling so hard that she was sure everyone in the small room could hear her legs slapping together. She had never been so scared in her life – well, maybe once when she had first heard that Andrew had been charged with murder. Looking at him now, she could almost believe where her fears had come from.

The scar, the one that had set him apart and made it possible for her to identify him without question, seemed larger now that his hair was trimmed short. It extended from the corner of his eye, past his temple and into his dark hairline to the base of his neck. The jagged, raised tissue glared white in the fluorescent lights of the room as a sad reminder of a military career cut short, and she hoped he did not mind that she singled out his injury.

Though their eyes had met several times during her testimony, she had been unable to tell whether he was thankful for her presence or resentful. His face showed no emotion whatsoever, and his mystique bothered her. Though she was not sure why, seeing him now sitting like a silent sentinel brought home the realization that his opinion of her truly mattered, and the thought that he may loathe her for not speaking sooner was a painful consideration.

The judge glanced over at her with a small smile. "You may step down."

Jamie nodded her head slowly. "Thank you."

She was reminded that she may be called again and advised that she could remain or leave as she saw fit. Her eyes strayed to Hayden, who had taken up a seat in the back of the courtroom. He nodded sagely as if to say that it was her choice.

Great, she thought.

She was not sure if she had done well or not, and the juror's faces were not any more forthcoming than the men and women sitting at the lawyer's table. Taking a shaky breath, she came to her feet and smoothed down her pants to wipe her clammy palms. Knowing that everyone, including the ominous and unfathomable man she came to help, was watching her carefully did not ease her nervousness. Lifting her head as high as she could, she attempted to keep her façade as a confident woman. She strode away from her bench, back toward the tables, and chanced one more glance at Andrew. He was observing her intently, his face devoid of any emotion. However, as she passed out of view she almost swore that she saw his head incline her way. Her heart leapt. Was that a nod of gratitude?

There was an elderly lady beaming happily at her in the row designated for individuals with special needs. The white-haired lady confined to a wheelchair had the same pale eyes and delicate features as Andrew, and Jamie concluded that she was the grandmother so often spoken about. Almost embarrassed that she knew this, Jamie found it odd that she was so familiar with his life when she had only met him once and truly did not know him at all. Sending a tentative smile back, she hurried to join Hayden in the back of the room. As soon as they broke for lunch, she would make her escape.

Hayden reached for her clammy hand as soon as she slipped back onto the hard wooden bench. His fingers were warm and dry next to her cool and damp ones, and the strong grip eased her trembling slightly. Their eyes met, and he gave her a reassuring nod and wink. Aware that the ecstatic elderly woman was still watching her, she lowered her forehead to Hayden's shoulder and let out a shuddering breath.

"You did it," he whispered into her ear.

She nodded against the warm blend of his suit. "Did I do okay?"

"You did great."

She raised her head and turned back to the proceedings in front of her. Sitting tall and erect not ten yards away was the defendant. Andrew Sheehan had changed a lot from the memory she had of him. Though she had seen a photo of him on the television screen, he appeared much older now. Though still tall, broad shouldered and well-groomed, his face bore the exhaustion of a man who had seen hard times. Oh, he was still handsome, but the dancing gleam she had seen in his eyes and remembered so well was now gone, and his strong jaw was hard with bitterness. That face that had held so much amusement now bore the emotional scars of a man who had seen little laughter in recent times. Had she come too late to save him? Had he already changed as much as Ian and Ford suspected?

Disturbed by what she saw, she continued to wonder for the remainder of the afternoon. Though she was able to make light conversation with Hayden during their lunch, she opted not to return to the courthouse after their meal, preferring instead to head home and close her eyes. Now that everything she had worked for had come to pass, she realized that she was exhausted both mentally and physically. All she wanted was to climb into her soft bed and cuddle with her pillows while she began the jaw-clenching wait for a verdict.

Hayden, astute despite his carefree ways, was aware of her distraction and parted ways with her after lunch with another bear hug and words of encouragement. A thirty minute drive later, and she was pulling into the garage of the modest adobe style home she now rented less than a mile from Ford's. Closing the garage behind her, Jamie made straight for her room to run a bath. While it filled, she went back to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine, ignoring the fact that it was early afternoon. After the day she had, she deserved an afternoon of relaxation.

She wished Andrew had the same opportunity.

Returning to the bathroom, she stripped out of her remaining clothes and sank into the steaming water with a mournful sigh. After adjusting the dial on her radio to the local classical station, she leaned back as the waltz from Tchaikovsky's "Sleeping Beauty" replaced the low-volume talk. Pushing the button to turn on the jets, she tried to relax while the hot water bubbled around her, massaging her back and thighs.

Allowing her head to fall back on the tub pillow behind her, she sank deeper into the water and closed her eyes. However, the buzzing in her mind would not go away. Like a pesky bee, she kept rehashing her testimony, over and over again the scene replayed. Though she was not an expert by any means, she felt as though she had done her job in the best possible way. She remained honest and forthcoming during her questioning, answering everything as she had been told to do.

Now that it was over, she hoped with all her might that it would work out for Andrew. Because of her move to Nevada, the man had suffered. It showed in every line and crease on his face. It showed in his eyes. Those eyes had danced with charm and friendliness when she first met him. Today, they seemed almost lifeless as they took in her presence, very much like Ian's description of a highly trained Special Forces officer... A man who could kill without blinking an eye.

Gripped with remorse, she shifted uncomfortably in the bath and swore that she would somehow make it up to him if the trial ended well. John Bell had hit her weakest point during his cross-examination. Why had she not come forward sooner? Did she have a legal responsibility to tell the police of what had happened that evening? Did she not come forward because of her shame for doing something reckless in her otherwise so obedient life?

Clay had told her once that change was human nature. People changed as their environments changed. After meeting the cold stare of the man in the courtroom, Jamie had no doubt that Andrew had changed tremendously. She also had little doubt that she had changed as well. After Clay's words of love had made her toes curl almost as much as his hungry kisses, she had rushed off with a head full of romantic dreams and shattered those of a man in a single evening. Now both of them bore the scars of her actions. Sniffling, Jamie wondered again if Andrew Sheehan could ever forgive her for holding her silence for so long. Could she blame him if he didn't?

There was only one thing to do, she concluded. She had to make it up to him. If he was truly not guilty, the new jury would find him so and release him. She would do everything she could to help him regain his life. After everything he had been through, it was the least she could do. She just hoped he would accept her help.

Once she began to doze off in the tub, Jamie decided that the water had cooled enough to finish up. The sun had been high in the sky when she had begun her not-so-relaxing soak, and now it was beginning to creep through the slats of the wooden shutters as it made its descent. She pulled the drain open and listened to the water funnel down for a moment before reaching up and turning off her radio. The quiet time she had spent left her even more lethargic, so she toweled off and climbed under the covers of her soft bed. Her last memory as she hugged her pillow and drifted into a deep slumber was the nod Andrew Sheehan sent her way when she passed.

He had acknowledged her.

The sun was low in the sky when she woke up with a start. Despite the thermostat being set at a comfortable temperature, she was bathed in sweat and her sheets were tangled around her legs uncomfortably. She had left her hair up, and the classy updo was now a tangled mess around her neck, clinging in some spots where her skin was dampest.

Her dreams had been filled with Andrew Sheehan.

The day's proceedings replayed themselves over and over again like a broken record, making her rest seem more like a never-ending drama. She relived her testimony, and she remembered Andrew scrutinizing her carefully. His face was shuttered, but she knew he listened to every word she spoke. However, even in her dreams she could not determine whether or not he was thankful she had returned, and she woke feeling just as frustrated and concerned.

The chirping of her mobile phone on the nightstand began its cycle, and Jamie reached for it groggily, realizing that it was the incoming call that awoken her so abruptly. Checking the caller ID, she sighed when she realized it was George.

"Hi," she said.

"Hey. How did it go today?"

Though his voice was warm and cheerful, Jamie did not feel any returning spark. Instead, all she felt was annoyance. Though she wanted to like George the way Hayden had playfully accused her of that morning, she could not see herself falling in love anytime soon with the forty-something single father of two.

"I'm not sure," she responded truthfully.

"Not sure? Is that good or bad?"

"I don't really know. I guess it's up to the jury to decide."

"When will you know?"

"I have no idea. I don't know how far they've come in the trial or how much more they have to go."

"So everything's up in the air?"

"Pretty much."

"Wow, that's a bummer. Too bad they didn't call you last," he said sympathetically.

"They told me I may be called again."

"Oh." He paused as if searching for some way to keep the conversation going. "I'm cooking up some burgers with the kids. Do you want to come over and talk a little more? I'd like to hear about what it was like for you."

In the two dates she had shared with George, they had enjoyed a ready camaraderie. With their similar backgrounds in finance, they had first hit it off discussing their various roles and clients of the past. That had led to a dinner invitation, which Jamie had accepted more out of trying to get to know her neighbor rather than trying to start up a new relationship. Now it appeared that she would have to convince him of that.

"Thanks for the offer, George, but I think I'll pass. I just woke up."

His voice deepened. "Long day, huh?"

"Definitely," she replied with a heavy sigh.

"Well, I'm right here if you change your mind. I'll be here all night as well, so if you find yourself up and pacing after your little power nap come on over."

The husky tone to his voice made her slightly uncomfortable. There was no way she was going over tonight of all nights. "Thanks, George."

"Anytime... If I don't see you tonight, I'll check in with you tomorrow."

She grimaced into the empty bedroom. "All right then."

He signed off with a cheerful goodbye, and Jamie set the phone aside. Her eyes drifted closed again. It was a waiting game from here on out, and she wondered if she could handle the strain. Remembering those intense pale eyes, Jamie wondered how Andrew felt. If it was hard on her, she could only imagine how hard it was for him.

### ***

Andrew lay awake in his bunk, staring at the ceiling as he had done so many times before. He could hear Smack's nasally snore below him, a sound he had grown very accustomed to. It was almost as normal as the regularity of his breathing. However, after today's proceedings, for the first time in a long time, he had begun to wonder just how much longer he would be sleeping in the same close quarters as the kid.

Though he claimed that he had no dreams of ever being set free, Andrew had concluded that it was human nature to attempt to see something positive out of a negative. He knew it would be a severe blow if he ended up being wrong again, but after watching Jamie Morton on the stand, he finally allowed the first glimmer of hope to return to his otherwise jaded existence. Not only had Jamie conducted herself in an honest and composed manner, she had given her testimony in an almost verbatim account to his from five years ago. She remembered everything almost as clearly as he did, and that in itself was gratifying. Even the judge seemed distracted after their lunch break, as though he wondered why they were even there when the facts were proving that his was a case of mistaken identity.

Bell's team so far had not proven beyond a reasonable doubt that he was behind Kit's murder – not in the least. Darren had spoken to Andrew after the day's proceedings, advising him that he was going to recall those witnesses who had identified him again. He wanted them to admit to the jury that the woman he was seen leaving with was Jamie Morton. Now that the jury had seen her as well, they had no choice but to admit the case of mistaken identity. Those witnesses would go from prosecutor's death knell to defendant's last chance for victory.

Not usually a praying man, Andrew thanked God for bringing Jamie back to Phoenix.

Back to him.

She no longer wore a ring on her left hand. He had noticed that as soon as her hands had left the safety of her lap when she spoke. Though he did not know anything for certain, he suspected that something had happened with the man that had brought her so much joy those years ago. Perhaps that was why she had returned to the Valley.

Don't even think it, he warned his over-eager imagination.

But he was only human, and Jamie Morton was the last beautiful woman he had encountered before being locked away. Of course, he had fantasized about her return, her telling the truth... and her more feminine charms. Though he never really expected it to happen in real-life, look at where he was now.

Just like the memory of her face had done following his dreams, the tightness in his chest had eased as soon as she had stepped down from the stand. She had done it – come forward and verified everything he reported. Though accused of being a murderer and a liar, she had vindicated him on the stand today. For that, he was eternally grateful. He could be found guilty again and live with the knowledge that Jamie had tried. She had stepped forward when no one else would. She had believed in him when even he no longer did. Most importantly, she had cared. She cared enough to make a statement and put her life on hold in order to fight for his. The woman was an angel, just as he had suspected that night when he saw her for the first time.

"Hey, are you awake?"

So lost in his own thoughts, Andrew had not noticed that Smack's snoring had ceased, and surprisingly the idea of holding a conversation did not bother him at that moment. "Yeah."

"Did she show?"

"Yeah," he said softly.

"Did she talk?"

"Yeah."

"You're going to get out, aren't you?"

Andrew wanted to snap at Smack for insinuating such a hopeless dream, but he could hear the unspoken fear in the kid's voice. Suddenly, it occurred to him that while Smack was happy for him and had a new level of respect for his story, he would also be the one who would suffer the most if he did get out. Andrew had spent time taking the kid under his wing, protecting him from the gangs and politics outside of their cell. When he left, the impressionable young man would be on his own.

"Nothing's done yet, Smack."

"But it's going to happen. As soon as the trial finishes, and the jury finds you not guilty, they'll release you. You only have a few more days here."

"If they find me not guilty."

"How can they not?"

Andrew leaned over the side of the bunk and scowled down at Smack. "How could they have before? Everything is an unknown, and I'd rather not consider freedom until I hear the words from the judge and jury."

Smack's face shone in the dull light creeping in from small window. His eyes were wide with unspoken fear and remorse for irritating Andrew. "You're right. People suck. Most of 'em are too dumb to even be on a jury."

"Thanks." Rolling back over, Andrew once again propped his head on his folded arms. "Go back to sleep. We have nothing to worry about for now. When and _if_ , and I mean if, the time comes, I'll make sure you're taken care of."

"Thanks, man."

"Only if you promise me you'll keep doing your classes and get on the ball of trying to better yourself, so when _you_ get out of here you have a chance."

Smack chuckled. "Sure thing."

Andrew snorted. "I'm not joking, kid. I'll be keeping an eye on you the whole time."

"I bet you will."

"I have my ways."

"I wish you'd been my dad," was Smack's earnest reply.

Though Andrew was not nearly old enough to be Smack's father, they had grown fairly close in the years spent in the cell together. He closed his eyes and did not answer, knowing that if he did his voice might shake. Despite Smack's hero worship of him, Andrew knew better. He was not fit to be anyone's dad, no matter what this lost kid thought.

### Chapter 8

It took three days for the jury to decide.

Three days of nail biting and pacing. Three days of torturous thoughts and nightmares of negative responses. Three days of prayers, even though he had long given up on praying.

Despite the ease in his anxiety when he saw Jamie Morton again, it was short lived. The tightness in his chest returned with a vengeance as soon as closing statements were complete, and the judge handed down his final directions to the jurors. He had watched on, noticing how two or three of them had glanced his way. Too afraid to dream that was a good sign, he waited with bated breath and restrained frustration that this trial would come to a speedy end.

Every minute was torture. He had to wait for three long days.

Luckily Smack kept his distance out of fear of Andrew's reaction. In fact, nearly everyone on his block stayed away. Even the corrections officers took some sympathy on him. Because of the rarity of a retrial, the local media had picked up his story and made him into some type of prison folk hero. Almost everyone followed the trial in any manner that they could, and it seemed as though everyone was on edge waiting for the announcement to be made.

But still he had to wait.

On the morning of the third day, a call to review Jamie's testimony came down. Then there was a request to review the closed circuit camera footage from the night. Hours passed and still nothing.

Just when he thought he had reached his snapping point, the word came down. Everyone was called back to the courtroom to hear the reading. The courthouse itself was busier than normal, with onlookers and media personnel filling up the hallway and waiting in breathless anticipation. Their presence irritated Andrew, for the hypocrisy seemed almost unbearable after his years of isolation. From his seat in the front of the room, Andrew could hear the commotion outside, and it did little to soothe his nerves, for he knew that if he was again found guilty they would condemn him once more.

He refused to turn to see who was there, refused to look at any of the faces within his line of sight. Kit's family was present again, as was his loyal grandmother. Though he had asked her to stay away rather than risk having her heart broken once again, she had remained firm.

"A united front," she said. "Your brother may not be here, but we're still your family, Andrew."

He did not know if he could bear the shame of having his grandmother watch him be convicted a second time around, but he held his tongue. More than anything, he wished he could hear this verdict alone, but that was not possible. He had no rights.

They stood as everyone filed in. The judge took his seat and turned to the jurors. Over the rushing in his ears, Andrew heard him ask if they had reached their verdict. Sucking in a deep, painful breath, Andrew stared down at the pad of paper before him, too afraid to look up, even though he knew he should. His heart was beating so hard in his chest that he thought he would faint, and it was difficult to breathe. Wiping his sweaty palms on his slacks, Andrew waited.

Please don't let my anxiety hit, he thought frantically.

"We have, Your Honor."

"Would you state for the record how you find the defendant?"

Andrew's eyes closed for a moment before he raised his head and turned his attention to the foreman. The middle-aged lady with the wide-rimmed glasses looked at him with a small smile before glancing down at the paper in her hand.

She cleared her throat. "We, the Jury, duly empanelled and sworn in the above entitled action, upon our oaths do find the defendant, Andrew Edward Sheehan, not guilty as charged to first degree murder as to Count I of the indictment, and not guilty as charged in sexual assault in the first degree as to Count II of the indictment. Each of us has concurred and signed below our signatures on this statement."

She continued to read the remaining five charges, but Andrew could barely hear her words. Not guilty, not guilty, _not guilty_! The words rung in his ears like the sweet music of a chorus. Behind him, there were cheers and loud gasps of excitement followed by several sharp cries. Who these supporters were, he did not know. Only one thought was certain –

He was a free man.

He was a _goddamn_ free man.

It was over.

He had his life back.

Struggling with all his strength to maintain his normally stoic countenance for fear of revealing his true emotions, he turned to Darren to confirm those precious words. His lawyer was beaming from ear to ear, clasping his co-counsel on the shoulder before turning to Andrew. The lawyer had tears in his eyes, and he gripped Andrew's clammy hand tightly as he waited for the proceedings to finish.

"I told you not to give up," Darren cried with a joyous laugh.

Andrew reached for Darren and hugged the man that had worked so hard for him. He hugged him with all the strength he had left in his rubbery bones, leaning a little too much as his legs buckled. "You sure as hell did," he whispered.

The judge was thanking the jury for their service and releasing them to go home when Andrew was once more able to get his legs back under him. He nodded his thanks at the men and women who had seen beyond their prejudice and fear to listen to the facts and determine that he had been telling the truth all along, and several nodded back. His heart felt so raw at that moment that he was not sure if he would cry or shout aloud his joy. He had never felt so liberated.

He was a free man, and it was all due to Jamie Morton. Glancing behind him excitedly, he craned to find the top of her mahogany head, hoping to spot her in the crowd. Eyes frantically scanning the room, he was gripped with disappointment when he could not find her in the jumbled mass of nosy onlookers. Telling himself he should not have expected her to come, he still could not deny that he had yearned to see her there when they announced his triumph – their triumph.

His joy dampened, he turned back around and bit back his regret. There was much to do, and he still had not been released by the judge. Pay attention, he warned himself firmly. Keep it together. Hold on.

But by God, he had his life back!

### ***

Despite the warnings that had gone off in her head, Jamie had found it impossible to stay away from the courtroom. Fearing her presence was unwelcome, especially during such a highly charged time, she managed to avoid the courts until the evening news announced that jury deliberations had begun. From then on she was on tenterhooks, waiting as nervously as everyone else for the final decision.

Ian had taken up residence in her spare bedroom following her testimony, preferring to keep a close eye on her while the trial was still in session. He began to accompany her when she went out after her name as the smoking gun witness had been released, and he feared retribution from opponents to Andrew's retrial. Though nothing untoward had happened, she happily accepted Ian's overprotectiveness for the first time ever. Not only was he a comfortable distraction, but his presence at her house kept George at bay, too.

At that moment, she was glad to have a burly, intimidating cop standing close by her side. The courthouse was packed with curious onlookers and members of the media, and when they entered on the third afternoon of deliberations, everyone was abuzz with the news that the verdict was about to be read.

They had arrived just in time.

With Ian's help, they were allowed to pass through security and gain access to the hallway outside the courtroom doors. She gripped her brother's hand tight, so tightly that he warned her to calm down.

"Everything will be fine," he said over the excited murmurings in the hallway.

Steering them to a corner by another courtroom door, he stood beside her as she leaned against the wall. Like an elastic band stretched to the breaking point, Jamie felt as though she would buckle at any moment. Releasing Ian's hand, she instead wound her arm through his and leaned against him to help her keep her balance.

"Please, please let him be released," she whispered.

Ian stared down at her, for once not reminding her in his no-nonsense way that she needed to relax. She saw compassion in his dark eyes as his gaze met hers. They were close enough that he knew without her saying how she would feel inside if he was convicted again. "Don't think about the alternative right now."

A hush fell over the crowds as the whispers made their way down the hall. "The jury's coming in."

Jamie held her hand to her breast and took several deep breaths. "Here we go."

In an attempt to distract her, Ian leveled her with his steely stare. "If they find him guilty again, what are your plans as far as continuing this fight on his behalf?"

She swallowed. There was no way he was guilty, and she firmly believed the jury would feel that way, too. "In all honesty, I hadn't really thought about it. I guess I'll go on with my life."

"And put all of this behind you?"

"Yes."

His brow raised in suspicion. "I'm not sure I believe you, Jame."

"Like I said, I hadn't really thought about it. I still don't believe he's guilty."

At that moment a sharp cry went out among the crowd. "Not guilty on charge one!"

Jamie's eyes went as wide as saucers, and Ian reached out for her as she swayed on her feet. She felt the blood drain from her face and was overcome by full body tremors for the first time in her life.

Keeping hold of her arm, Ian murmured. "Easy, kiddo."

"Not guilty on charge two!"

She fell back against the wall as down the line the whispered voices continued. Not guilty on all charges, from murder in the first degree to breaking and entering. Just like that, Andrew Sheehan had been exonerated. Jamie closed her eyes in relief, aware of the sharp sting of tears behind her lids. Pressing her hands against her lips, she bit back her happy cry and stared at her brother.

"Damn, brat... You did it," he whispered.

Ian's voice sounded so far away. Jamie struggled to open her eyes, aware that the tears were spilling over her lids. Ian's thumb reached out to brush a tear away, and when her vision cleared she could see that he was smiling at her.

"Yes, we did," she said brokenly.

A cheer went up in the hallway, despite the bailiff's demands for quiet. With growing concern, more guards arrived, and the crowds were urged outside to wait for everyone to exit. Falling in step behind them, Jamie allowed Ian to guide her back down the hallway to the doorway.

"Well, we've heard the verdict firsthand. What should we do now?"

Jamie glanced around. The media vans were everywhere, and crowds of people mingled all around, eager to catch a glimpse of the man set free after nearly five years in prison. To approach him now seemed too public for her tastes.

"Not here... not now," she said with a shake of her head.

Once again, Ian seemed to know exactly what she meant. "Should I slip him a note?"

"Can we do that?"

Ian glanced around. "I'm not sure I could make it over there, but I'll try."

"No, let's just go."

At that moment, all she wanted was to escape, to go somewhere private where she could relish in her pride. Of all the problems she had faced over the last few years, she knew that for once she had made the right choice. She had helped a man in need. It was quite possibly the greatest triumph of her life.

They were approaching the funnel of bodies waiting to exit near the metal detectors when she heard her name from somewhere behind her. The shout took her off guard, and both she and Ian turned on their heels. A tall, dark head stood above most of the crowd, and Jamie froze with her heart pounding in her throat. It was Andrew and his team making their way through the throng.

"Oh, boy," she muttered.

Ian reached out and took a hold of her arm, steering her away from the line of people around her. They waited as the two men pushed through the last of the remaining onlookers. Andrew was wheeling his grandmother's wheelchair, and several other people followed behind them, including the remainder of Darren's team, and the woman she saw sitting with his grandmother the day she testified.

Ian shook his head in sympathy. "So much for sneaking out of here... sorry, Jame."

"I didn't want anyone to see me cry," she said.

As surreptitiously as possible she wiped at her eyes, hoping to erase all traces of her unexpected tears. Unfortunately, she only had a moment to compose herself before they were standing in front of her. She greeted Darren first, taking note of his smile that spread from ear to ear.

"Jamie, Ian, did you hear?"

Nodding her head, she smiled tremulously and turned to Andrew. It was the closest she had been to him since that night all those years ago, and she could not help but feel a little intimidated by his sheer size and reputation as a dangerous militant. As though the shock of the verdict still had not sunk in, his eyes were wide and vacant, almost lifeless like before. However, she quickly noticed that he was alert enough for his gaze to sweep her from head to toe. She shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny when she realized with some alarm that she hoped he liked what he saw.

"Congratulations," she said softly, holding out her hand.

At the sound of her shaky voice, the stunned look in his eye disappeared almost like magic, and he stared down at her hand in amazement. Once again, the niggling fear that he resented her for not coming forward sooner crossed her mind. Fearing the worst, her eyes lowered, and she was about to drop her hand when he suddenly stepped forward and grasped her shoulders. Pulling her up against his very broad and very hard chest, and holding her so tightly she felt her breath leave in a loud rush, Andrew bent over her and engulfed her with his body. Despite having four overprotective brothers, she could not remember a time when she had ever been hugged so tightly. She had forgotten that he was such a big man, taller even than Hayden, and he leaned over her as though she was nothing more than a child.

With her head pressed against the broad expanse of his chest, she could hear the violent pounding of his heart beneath her ear, and full body tremors shook him from head to toe. Like a leaf in a strong breeze, he trembled as every muscle in his body vibrated with shock. His shaking was a stark reminder that he was just a man, a man with feelings, hopes and dreams despite his formidable past, and Jamie's intimidation eased slightly. She relaxed against him and allowed him to continue to cling to her as though she were a life preserver, her own rampant emotions running wild. After another moment, he buried his head in her neck and began rocking slightly. Raising her arms, she awkwardly patted his back in an attempt to be reassuring although her own racing heart made her lightheaded. Knowing that they were exposed, and that people were watching, Jamie managed to hold in the rising flood of tears. There was so much she wanted to say, but it was neither the time nor the place.

As though reading her mind, Darren tugged on Andrew's sleeve gently, almost apologetically. "They're waiting for you."

She heard him inhale raggedly against her neck, and his grip on her loosened. Still, he was slow to release her, forcing Ian to loudly clear his throat. The noise seemed to bring Andrew back to the present, and he took a step away from her to focus on her brother. Another head to toe scan followed, with a bemused frown appearing on Andrew's face. His sharp gaze travelled from brother to sister before he swung his head back toward Darren.

"Okay."

His voice was still low and calm, but Jamie knew that inside his body was reacting to this new shock with a violence that matched or beat her own. Blinking rapidly, she stood aside so that they could pass. Darren held out his arm to allow her to precede him, but she shook her head. "I'd rather not."

While Darren nodded in understanding, Andrew was again staring at her. Taking advantage of this final opportunity, she reached for his hand and gripped it tightly. Her voice shook with guilt. "I am so sorry I wasn't here for you sooner."

Among the startled gasps of his companions, Andrew immediately flushed. His jaw clenched for a moment, and then he shook his head emphatically. Returning her tight grip, he spoke in his deep voice.

"You apologize to no one, Jamie," he said tightly. "No one."

Hot tears spilled over her lashes, and she no longer trusted herself to speak. Nodding quickly, she turned away from his piercing gaze and took a step toward Ian, but Andrew's grandmother reached out and grasped her free hand.

"Ms. Morton, Andrew and I cannot thank you enough for coming forward," she said in a deceptively strong voice.

Jamie again nodded, too afraid to speak.

"I'd like to meet up with you when things settle down to thank you properly," she continued. "Darren, would you set something up for us?"

Darren was distracted but smiled in agreement. "Of course. Now let's keep moving everyone, so we're not blocking the hallway."

Ian reached out and put his arm around Jamie's shoulders, supporting her as the group moved away. When Jamie looked up, she noticed that her brother's eyes appeared slightly damp as well. One of her brows rose in question as she reached up and pointed meaningfully.

"That was intense," he said in explanation.

"Definitely," she agreed.

Jamie watched Andrew being led away with a sense of loss. There was so much she had wanted to say, still wanted to say, and she hoped she would be given the opportunity to do so. Maybe when things settled down, as his grandmother had mentioned. Right now, he had other things on his mind. "How do we get out of here?"

"Let's wait until he's swarmed. Then we can slip off to the side."

They did not have to wait long. Though Andrew still moved as though he had been shell-shocked, Darren conducted himself like a true professional and took control of the situation. His group exited into the bright afternoon sunlight, and he immediately grasped Andrew's hand and held it high in victory. People swarmed, curious onlookers as well as media professionals, and she and Ian watched for a moment until the soft sound of sobbing reached their ears in the now quiet hallway. Ian looked over his shoulder and stiffened. His arm dropped away from her.

"Kit's family is coming," he whispered.

"Please, let's just go," she said.

While Andrew had obtained his freedom and Jamie was happy for him, the decision obviously had devastated the family of the victim. For five years, they had lived with the belief that the man who had brutally attacked and murdered their daughter, sibling and friend was in custody. Whether they believed Andrew was innocent or not no longer mattered. All they saw was that the man that had stolen away their daughter was a free man. Jamie could imagine their anger, but she felt fear. Who was the man and where was he now? Had he watched the trial? Was he scared now?

Hurrying away from the group, Ian and Jamie made their way back to the exit, and fortunately for them most of the crowd had dissipated. They slipped out the doors, studiously avoiding the small circle of people crowded around Darren and Andrew.

Someone had set up music outside, and the sound of Israel Kamakawiwo'ole's "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" was booming in the background. Ian glanced back at Jamie with a brow raised in amusement. "Appropriate for today, huh?"

"I suppose."

She followed Ian down the steps and out into the parking lot, feeling the weight of Andrew's stare the entire time. It was the strange heated feeling she remembered from that fateful night so long ago. She turned back one last time, seeing his tall head above all the others. That expressionless stare lingered on her, but instead of frowning like she had the first time they met, this time she raised a tentative hand in acknowledgement. Ian drew her attention away before she could see his response, but she wondered if he remembered her scowls from that night, too.

"Keys, please?"

Handing the keys over to her brother, Ian opened the door for her and walked around to the driver's side. Slipping behind the wheel, he was silent as he started the car and eased from the crowded parking lot. However, once he had pulled out of the complex and onto the open road, now thick with afternoon traffic, he exhaled loudly. "Jame, I have to say that I'm impressed."

She blinked in surprise. "Impressed? With me?"

"Yes with you. You stuck to your guns and went through with this. You even fought with us about it. Throughout all the doubt, you stayed true to yourself...and look... You just got an innocent man his freedom."

"I think I did what anyone in my position would do," she said softly.

"Not true. You did what a lot of people wouldn't. That's what makes you special."

"Well, if no one comes forward, they have to live with that for the rest of their lives. I did what was right."

"You sure did, and I'm damn proud to call you my sister," he said. He maneuvered onto the highway and eased the car into the carpool lane before speaking again. This time his voice held a touch of wonder. "That guy didn't know what to do or think."

She smiled. "He did seem a little stunned."

"I'm glad I took you. I'm glad I got to see him up close. You were right; he didn't look like a deviant."

"Coming from the FBI profiler here," she said wryly.

"No, that's Zach," he said with a chuckle. However, Jamie noticed that he had the grace to blush slightly. "All right, I'll admit that I was a little surprised when he lunged at you like that, but it was all good. I probably would have done the same if I had just gotten out."

"So nice of you to be so understanding."

Almost mimicking Hayden's words, Ian snorted. "Well, you're my little sister. I have to watch out for you."

"I think I've proven today that I can trust my own judgment."

A long pause hung over them for a few moments. Finally, Ian nodded his head. "Yes, I guess you have." His smile deepened as he thought about it. "Yes, you definitely have."

### Chapter 9

Summer 2011

Monsoon season occurs every year in the desert. Most times, it starts sometime around the 4th of July and lasts until late-September. When he was growing up, Andrew used to watch the news until the announcement was made that three days of a dew point over 55° had been reached. Even though anyone could feel the increase in humidity and sense that the heat was growing more unbearable, when the announcement was made on the news, it made it all the more real.

While he was away, the Weather Service decided to change the long-standing tradition by altering their determination of when it began by giving the monsoon specific beginning and end dates. A few years ago, June 15th was marked as the beginning date and September 20th the end. Clear and simple; they called it, and they had years of experience to back their decision. It tended to take the fun out predicting the monsoon, but it also was just a guide. The monsoon came when the monsoon wanted.

This monsoon season was Andrew's favorite by far. Instead of fearing the dust storms and humidity that made everything in his steamy cell hot and muddy, he lifted his face to the sky and breathed deep of the moist air, loving the musky smell of the rain slapping the dry desert, and the dark clouds forming over the mountains to the east. He was a free man, and he could stand outside in the whipping dust that stung his eyes without repercussions now. He could listen to the insects fanning their wings to cool off and watch the dark clouds approach from the open air. He did that now. Happily, eagerly, and most of all thankfully.

"Bring it on," he whispered at the sky.

This was his third storm since he had been released, and he had stood outside in the rain during every one of them.

It washed away the prison stink that he felt still clung to his skin.

It washed away the shame and depression he had felt during the past years of hell.

It cleansed his soul.

One thing it did not do, though, was erase the anxiety.

His first night home, he had discussed his control methods with his grandmother, and she had recommended he return to the VA to go on medication. He discarded the suggestion. Even though Darren was working hard to have his record expunged and benefits reinstated, he was still reluctant to admit to anyone his weakness.

When he told her of his reluctance, she suggested the next best thing. "Then get out there and help me care for those horses."

That was something he would consider, if not for himself then for his grandmother. The woman had done more than her fair share on his behalf. He owed her everything.

His fear of medication outweighed his desire to be human. Instead of running to the doctor, he forced himself to stand outside and listen to the cracking thunder that threatened to send him diving for cover. Even after all this time, the loud sounds still made him jump, but he was fighting it. Re-acclimation, he told himself, took time, and he was confident that with time he could master it on his own.

That's what he hoped for anyway.

A low, deep rumble crossed the sky from one end of Superstition Mountain to the other. The wind had picked up and sent small pockets of dust blowing toward his face. He squinted and ducked his head, but he continued his journey to the barn where he had turned out three of the boarders earlier. He wanted to get them back to their stalls before the storm came in and left the pen too muddy to traverse. Horses loved to roll in the mud following a good storm, and he was in no mood to have to brush them out after.

Filling their evening feed prior to collecting them, Andrew expected that their exceptional hearing would encourage them to return to the barn rather than him having to search them out. Reaching for the orange stick used to protect his personal space, Andrew opened the gate wide and waited while his horse extended his long neck and nuzzled his shoulder from his stall. Glancing at the old quarter horse, Andrew reached out and scratched his ears affectionately. "You've had your dinner," he admonished lightly.

As if he understood, Bruno ducked his head back in his stall and turned until his rump faced Andrew. He pawed at his empty feed bucket stubbornly.

"Not a chance," Andrew muttered.

Right on cue, the three boarders trotted toward him. He held the stick as an extension of his arm ready in case he was rushed or they became gummy toward one another, but they came in peacefully albeit quickly. He closed and secured the gate before turning to the stalls. Of course the sullen, blue roan gelding, Idaho, had entered Cash's stall and was burying his face in the old bay mare's feed. Andrew hastily intervened. Cash was on special supplements, unlike the spoiled quarter horse.

Of course, that was what he got for being lazy and not bringing them in one at a time. He guided the hungry gelding out of the stall and shooed him into his own, using his carrot stick to encourage Cash to do the same. The third boarder, a big palomino named Rojo, was already settled, so Andrew secured his gate just as another rumble of thunder shook the siding on the barn.

At the same time, Tabasco, a thoroughbred he had helped deliver before his incarceration, kicked at his stall and tossed his head. The outburst drew Andrew's gaze. He walked down the aisle to the unworked gelding. "So you don't like the rain, huh?"

The big chestnut continued tossing his head. Andrew reached out and caught him, applying light pressure between his ears until his head dropped.

"I guess now is as good a time as any," he said as he scratched the handsome gelding's ears in reward. "Let's go play a bit. We'll fight these storms together."

Prior to being arrested, Andrew was convinced that he was going to make Tabasco a fine horse. Unfortunately, he had been taken away before ever having the opportunity to train the magnificent animal. In his absence, his grandmother had hired on some help to care for the animals, but no one had taken the time to work Tabasco. In fact, the only reason he allowed a halter was because he had grown up with one. To say that his manners were rudimentary was giving him almost too much credit. Andrew was disappointed but determined to fix things while he was staying with his grandmother. At this point in time, he would be satisfied with teaching Tabasco his basic ground skills and then selling him to someone who would have the time to work him to his full potential. Besides, the more money he got out of him, the faster he would be free of his almost insurmountable debts.

He deftly tied the halter on and grasped the lead in one hand, using his other to guide the excited gelding from his pen. The wind was still bustling, and Tabasco danced along beside him.

"You have bad manners, mister," Andrew said, almost to himself. He continued leading the nervous animal with the confidence of a man who had grown up around horses. He could feel the tension in the young gelding's muscles and could hear the nervous breathing as if it were his own. He led Tabasco to the small round pen and stood aside as he rushed by him.

"We'll be working on that, too," Andrew announced firmly.

Secured in the round pen, Tabasco's nostrils flared as a gust of wind whipped his long, thick mane around his neck and eyes. Andrew remained calm, though the blowing dust stung his eyes as well. He ran his hands all over the tense animal, crooning softly and allowing him to grow used to the pressure of his gentle touch. Tabasco's ears twitched in his direction a few times. A few moments later, he began licking his lips, so Andrew continued on his other side.

He used the end of the lead rope next in place of his hand. Tabasco tensed a few times, but Andrew continued to soothe him with his soft words. The wind continued to blow and another rumble of thunder warned that the storm was growing closer. Still, he pressed forward, liking the distraction that working his untrained horse brought him. His grandmother was right, he thought wryly, it was therapeutic.

He had progressed to teaching circles in the round pen when he heard the sound of a truck pulling into the circular driveway behind him. The engine shut down and the doors slammed closed twice, indicating that his grandmother had company. Instead of turning around, he continued what he was doing. He was not expecting anyone, and it was none of his business if Grandma had friends over.

Tabasco had stopped after two steps for the third time, and Andrew was swinging the end of the lead when he heard a voice behind him.

"You have a beautiful animal there."

He turned on his heel, and Tabasco used the opportunity to come to yet another stop. Andrew sighed in resignation and faced the newcomer. To his surprise, it was a man who looked vaguely familiar but whom he knew he had never met. He frowned as he tried to place him.

"Can I help you?"

As he finished speaking, he saw another figure come around the back side of the oversized pickup. It was a woman wearing jean shorts and a black tank top. Though a matching black baseball cap covered her head and face, the dark ponytail sticking out of the back immediately gave away her identity. He felt his heart leap in his chest as he recognized Jamie Morton's tall, lean length.

It occurred to him then why the older man now leaning up against the top pole of the round pen appeared so familiar. He was another of her relatives.

"Yes, actually. I'm looking for Andrew Sheehan."

Andrew drew Tabasco in closer and led him over to the fence where the stranger was leaning. "That's me."

Jamie joined them and smiled hesitantly up at him. "Hello, Andrew."

He nodded in greeting. "Jamie."

"You've met my brother Ian; this is Ford."

Ford leaned over the top railing and extended a hand. After brushing his dusty palm on his jeans, Andrew accepted the hand and gave a firm shake. "Ford."

"Nice to meet you," the older man said.

Andrew nodded. This man had the same tall, lean build as Jamie as well as the same dark eyes and hair. Though his hair was sprinkled with gray at the sideburns, Andrew could still see the similarities in their matching oval faces and large, round eyes.

He was still wondering what had brought them to his grandmother's house on a stormy afternoon, and he was sure his confusion was plain on his normally closed face when Jamie spoke quickly. "Arlene called me this morning and asked me to come by. She said she had some questions for me."

He could not hide his surprise. "She did?"

Unfortunately, his surprise did not help Jamie's obvious nervousness. Her dark brows drew together in indecision, and Andrew wished he could kick himself. His people skills were far too rusty, and the last person he wanted to know that was Jamie.

She blinked and looked up at him with wide, frightened eyes. "I hope you don't mind our interrupting?"

When put that way, he thought wryly. Searching for something to say, he searched his memory for a witty comeback. Instead, only jumbled words spilled out. "Umm, no, not at all."

Tabasco was nodding his head again, tugging on the lead in Andrew's hand. He glanced over at the horse and put a steadying hand on his warm neck. Though he was very curious as to why his grandmother had called Jamie, he figured she would inform him soon enough.

"I'm sure she's inside. If you want to head on in, go ahead. I have to bring Tabasco in."

Ford turned to Jamie. "Go on ahead."

She nodded, but he could sense her continued hesitation. In an effort to be more welcoming before she bolted back to the truck, he nodded his head in the direction of the door. "There's a slider straight ahead if you want to go in that way. It'll lead you to the kitchen."

Jamie offered a tentative smile and eased away from the pen, turning on her heel and walking along the path with her head held high. He watched the sway in her hips and scanned lower down the bare length of her legs. Then he remembered Smack's words. Hot, he had called her. Andrew could not agree more.

Before he was caught checking out his companion's sister, he hastily returned his attention to the man who had accompanied her out to his house. Ford was watching him carefully, taking note of the way Andrew absentmindedly stroked the horse's neck.

"So I guess I should be congratulating you."

Andrew's lips twisted. "You'd be one of the first."

"Well, congratulations. I imagine you're enjoying being out."

"Still getting used to it, actually."

A flash of lightning over the top of the mountain lit up the sky followed moments later by a rumble of thunder that shook the ground beneath them. Tabasco shifted impatiently at the same time Andrew's heart lurched.

"You should probably get him in," Ford observed.

Andrew sent him an appreciative stare and nodded curtly. Gathering up the slack in the lead, he walked back to the gate while Ford followed along on the other side. "So you know horses?"

The older man shrugged. "Jamie rode constantly when she was in high school. She had the most ornery Hunter I've ever seen, but she handled him well and loved that damn horse. I had to drive her everywhere when she was doing events and picked some things up."

Andrew made a mental note that Jamie was familiar with horses, though why he was tucking the information away was beyond him. Ford interrupted his thoughts before he could explore that more.

"How many do you have out here?"

"My two are still here. My grandmother has one, though she can't ride anymore. Every now and then, she'll strap her old mare onto a cart, but that doesn't happen much anymore. She also has four boarders."

Ford whistled under his breath. "Jamie mentioned that she was disabled. How does she do all that work?"

Although he had been sizing up the outwardly friendly intruder, he suddenly became aware that the man was doing the same thing to him. His highly sensitive instincts sent off warning bells, but he reminded himself to give this stranger the benefit of the doubt. Obviously, he had his reasons, and they would be disclosed sooner or later. He could manage this dance.

"She had hired on the kid who lives behind us, but now that I'm here I'll probably take over most of the work. The place has gotten a little run down over the last few years. I've got a lot to do to get it back into shape."

"Have you found full-time work yet?"

He snorted as he opened the gate. "In this economy?"

Ford chuckled. "Tell me about it."

"What do you do?" Andrew asked as he led Tabasco back to his stall. He reached for a brush on the shelf by the door as he passed, and began brushing out Tabasco's shiny copper coat. He worked swiftly as he waited for the answer.

"Construction."

"Ouch."

"I guess you could say that," Ford said with a chuckle. "I'm keeping my head above water, though."

He fell silent as Andrew finished his task and removed the halter from the big chestnut's head. With a parting stroke, he exited the stall and secured the gate behind him. Brushing the dust off his hands, Andrew nodded toward the back door. "I'll take you up now if you want."

"Great. Thanks."

The sky had darkened to a gloomy hue when they left the small barn. Though the house was a short distance, Andrew's steps quickened as he considered the amount of time that had passed with Jamie alone with his grandmother. When he reached for the sliding glass door that opened into the kitchen, he noticed that Ford had paused. He was studying the wood supports on the back patio. His hand ran over the highly polished beam and then his eyes scanned the rest of the back.

"This is a nice place," he said distractedly.

Though he told himself that he had no right, he could not help the feeling of pride that washed over him. "My grandfather and I built this about twenty-years ago."

"You did?" The surprise on Ford's face was comical, and Andrew almost smiled.

"My grandfather bought this land back in the 60s. There was a trailer here for the longest time; the barn sits on the foundation now. My grandmother finally had enough when my brother and I decided that we were too big to cram into a tiny bedroom, so Pa sold a bit of his land where that house sits and put us all to work."

Scanning the property around him, Ford's gaze turned appreciative. Another luxury home sat on a lot not too far away. Both abutted the state forest land. His critical eye scanned the positioning of the house. Andrew knew that it was obvious to a well-trained eye that the man who had designed it had thought it out well. Mountain and city views were afforded, from both the front and the back.

"I recently had a foreman leave... haven't been able to find a good replacement. With the illegal immigrant crackdown and the economy so bad, we've been struggling to find good workers. Jamie mentioned that you did structural engineering, and you obviously know your way around home sites. If you don't have any luck lining up something and want to check us out, give me a call."

Structural engineering? Andrew almost smiled again. His time in Afghanistan was a bit different than overseeing a cookie-cutter house. Before Andrew could respond, Ford handed him a card. He stuffed it into his pocket without looking at it and nodded. "Thanks for the offer."

He pulled open the door and stood aside, so his surprise guest could enter before him. As he pulled it closed behind him, the first drop of rain landed on the patio with a heavy plop. He considered warning Ford about the wash that could flood but held his tongue. Again, he did not know why he was not in any rush to see them leave. Okay, well maybe he did, but he certainly was not going to be obvious about how attractive he thought Jamie was.

As he suspected, she was seated at the kitchen table with his grandmother and her caregiver Linda, and the two older ladies were laughing at something Jamie had said. She had removed her baseball cap, and it rested on her lap respectfully. Her dark ponytail hung down her back like a silken rope. The long strands were wind-blown at the ends, and several loose pieces framed her face on either side. She appeared young and happy, as though their shared laughter had taken years off her age. Though he wished he could laugh with them again, for now he had to content himself with the knowledge that Jamie had brought laughter to his grandmother.

The cheerful sound died as he and Ford entered, and Jamie returned her attention to the glass of iced tea in front of her. His grandmother stared up at Ford with a welcoming smile, and she pushed away from the table to approach him.

"You must be Ford," she said in greeting. "I'm Arlene Sheehan."

Ford stepped forward to greet her, once more holding out his hand politely. "Nice to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine. I understand that you played a large role in helping Jamie come forward."

Ford's brows rose in surprise. His gaze darted quickly to his sister then back to the beaming woman in the wheelchair. "Not at all. It was all Jamie. In fact, we fought about it initially, but she was as stubborn and rebellious as always."

Andrew crossed his arms over his chest and leaned up against the counter, watching the exchange carefully. He noticed at once that Ford was speaking honestly, for Jamie's cheeks had colored to a soft pink.

"Nonsense. She said she wouldn't have been able to do it if you hadn't been there to support her. For that, I'm very grateful. It's nice to have my grandson back. He's a good boy."

"Boy?" Andrew interrupted with a frown.

Like a reigning queen, Arlene waved her hand in dismissal. "You will always be a boy to me, no matter how tough you are, Andrew." She returned her attention to Jamie. "I'm glad I wasn't the only one to see it."

Andrew shifted uncomfortably, but he could not look away from the woman that had changed his life so dramatically.

"I asked Jamie to come over, so I could thank her properly. I didn't see you in the courtroom that day, Ford, so I want to tell you how well your sister did. She was very honest and it showed."

Ford nodded. "I heard about it."

"I don't think anyone would've believed what we all knew unless a complete stranger came forward. Jamie really understood my boy here. She convinced them when no one else could that he could never do something so heinous."

Jamie's face had deepened to a darker color of pink, and she stared into the glass of iced tea as though she saw something very appealing in it. Andrew knew exactly how she felt, for he wanted to sink into the floor, too.

"This boy was always the responsible one. He was dependable where his brother..." She trailed off for a minute and stared into space with a look of sorrow on her face. "Well, Adam has his problems. I was telling Jamie just how correct she was about Andrew, even though terrible things have happened since."

Knowing Jamie was as uncomfortable as he was, Andrew decided it was time to step in. He frowned meaningfully at his grandmother. "Things happen. It's over now."

"See?" She exclaimed as though proving a point. "He won't talk about it."

Finally, Jamie lifted her head and captured his gaze. Deep in the depths of her dark eyes he saw pain, guilt and sympathy. The amount of emotion caught him so off guard that he was finally able to look away and take down two more glasses from the cabinet. He poured some iced tea from the pitcher on the counter while she continued to watch him, and he felt the sorrow of her stare like a brand on his flushed skin. He offered Ford a glass without meeting his gaze as Arlene continued her embarrassing rush about his personality.

"But it's okay. He's home now, and soon he'll be back to his old self."

"Rome wasn't built in a day," Ford said. "Everything takes time."

"Very true," Arlene agreed. She turned back to Jamie. "Even though this ordeal is over, I would like to see more of you, Jamie."

"I'd like that," Jamie said.

Andrew could not tell whether or not she was speaking truthfully or trying to placate his grandmother, but as she spoke he realized he really wanted to see her again, too. Not as a prisoner in chains, but as a man, a real man instead of the shell of a human he had become. He was standing in his grandmother's kitchen enjoying the sight of a very attractive woman just a few feet away rather than fielding Smack's incessant chattering because of her. He owed her his freedom. He may, in fact, owe her his life. Plain and simple, he owed her everything. So it was not so surprising that he wanted to see her again. The more appropriate question would be whether or not _she_ wanted to see _him_.

She came to her feet when she finished speaking with an indulgent smile for his grandmother. Coming around the table, she held out her hand to shake, but Grandma reached out and pulled her toward her instead. He caught the slight flicker of surprise cross Jamie's face before she bent over and returned the tight hug. His mouth went dry as he was granted a nice view of her backside, and he quickly turned away before he humiliated himself.

"I can't thank you enough for bringing my boy home to me," Grandma said in a choked voice.

"I, umm," Jamie began.

Grandma cut her off. "No, don't say anything. Just know that I think you're an angel sent from God to fix the wrong that's been done."

As if in answer, a strong bolt of lightning lit up the room followed by a loud rumble of thunder shook the windows, and the rain started in earnest. Everyone in the kitchen paused and glanced at the windows with a hushed awe.

"I think that's our cue that we better leave before that wash floods and traps us here all night," Ford said.

Apparently, the mood was becoming too heavy for him as well, for he broke the emotional moment just in time, Andrew thought with relief. His discomfort levels had continued to increase tremendously, but it was not just because of Grandma's gushing. Jamie's scant attire and prettier-in-the-flesh appearance was like welcoming land to a drowning man, and he was finding it harder with every passing moment not to stare. He was a man, after all, but he feared who was going to notice.

Jamie gently eased away from his clinging grandmother and stood up straight. He liked her smile, the way a single dimple appeared in her left cheek and crinkled her large brown eyes. Her laughter lines had deepened since he had first met her, but aside from the inevitable effects of years passed, she was still just as pretty as he remembered. Not that he thought he would ever forget her after all the times he had conjured her image in his mind. For a woman with such a momentary contact, she had certainly left a lifelong impression. If only she knew...

"Thank you for your hospitality," she said politely.

Ford reached out and shook Andrew's hand, but he was still watching Jamie out of the corner of his eye. She had bent to offer Linda a hug as well, and his grandmother's caregiver patted her back and giggled shyly. Then Jamie straightened again and turned to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him a quick hug. It happened so fast that he had no time to react, but his body retained the feel of her soft body long after she stepped away.

"I'm glad to see you're doing okay," she said after she released him.

He nodded abruptly, pleased that she did not seem to notice his inner turmoil. "I'll walk you out."

"Oh no, don't bother," she said quickly. "It's raining, and we've already intruded enough."

Before he could insist, she reached up to replace her cap on her head and walked to the slider, pulling it open to the sound of a heavy rain. He was about to follow, but she stepped outside and closed the door behind her. Ford turned and shook his head.

"She just left me."

"I just offered to walk her out..." he replied, feeling foolish.

Ford chuckled and waved his hand dismissively. "She's always liked the rain."

As if that explained everything.

Pushing away from the counter, Andrew walked Ford to the front door and flipped on the outside light before pulling open the heavy oak door. The rain was coming down harder now, and the sound of it hitting the ground drowned out any sounds of the woman who captivated him. Though he stood aside to allow the older man to pass, his eyes eagerly searched for Jamie in the darkness. She was leaning against the passenger door with a small smile on her lips, her face turned up and her eyes closed as the rain washed over her. The sight was familiar to him, for he had done the very same thing multiple times. But this time the rain was not washing away the stain of terrible times. Instead, it seemed to impart the power of nature upon her wonder-filled face. Like a statue, he felt rooted to the spot unable to move.

Ford turned to him one last time before taking a step off the patio. His head was cocked to the side as he watched Andrew gape at his sister. Andrew hastily dragged his gaze away in response.

"So you'll let me know if you're interested in a job?"

Andrew patted his pocket. "I'll think about it."

"Okay." He held out his hand. Andrew accepted it in a firm grip. "Welcome home."

Andrew sighed. "Thanks."

He remained on the patio and watched as Ford jogged through the rain to the truck. A smile almost appeared on his lips as he heard Ford admonish Jamie. It was nice to hear normal interactions between two people. For the first time, he realized that he missed such a simple, common thing that was so easy to take advantage of.

"The doors _are_ unlocked, Jamie. Seriously?"

"What's the big deal?"

"Now you're going to get my truck all wet."

"Oh, whatever. It's not like the truck is clean anyway," she replied sassily.

"Why do you always do that?"

She laughed in response. "Loosen up a little, will you? It's _raining_!"

"Dammit. You're going to be the death of me sooner or later."

"Nah, your kids will be."

The rest of their conversation was lost to him as they both closed the doors, and the heavy rumble of the diesel engine drowned out the sound of her laughter. However, he continued to watch as Ford carefully backed from the driveway and out onto the dirt road. The big truck travelled slowly, and he watched until they were out of sight. He was left with only the sound of the falling rain, a growing emptiness in his heart...

And the knowledge that he really liked Jamie Morton.

### Chapter 10

A week passed with the card Ford had given him burning a hole, first in his pocket and then in his mind after he propped it on his bathroom sink. He studiously attempted to ignore it during the day, busying himself with cleaning up Grandma's property and repairing the loose fences. There was a lot more work for him to do, but he realized that merely working for Grandma was not going to earn him a living or help him pay off his debts. Unfortunately, Arizona did not have a fair compensation law, so he was on his own in rebuilding his life. Unless Darren was able to pull a miracle from out of somewhere, he needed to do more.

Darren had been working hard on his behalf. He had received a call from his office the day before on his new mobile phone. It was more good news. His co-counsel had advised that the District Attorney's office had filed to formally dismiss all charges against him. He was on the road to being completely exonerated – at least in the eyes of the law. The public, on the other hand, was not so easily swayed.

He knew it would take more time for his case to be reduced to the darkest recesses of the public's memory, but in the meantime he had difficulty going anywhere comfortably. It was almost as bad as when he first returned home following his time in the service. After the things he had seen and done, he always felt as though people would look at him and question his actions. Now those curious stares were reality, and he wished his case had not turned so public in the end.

No matter how many formal apologies he received, he would never be able to escape the reality of his last five years. Nothing could replace those years of his life, nor the shame he had dealt with – was still dealing with – and the stares he received only enhanced his dislike of those people who had once looked at him with scorn. From hero to nothing; he had been dealt a low blow.

To add insult to injury, he had received an awkward call from Adam the evening before. After the congratulations on being exonerated had passed and sullen apologies for not keeping in touch extended, Adam had promised to come home soon for a visit. He swore that they would catch up then. Hearing his brother's voice after long years of being estranged had sent home how wronged he had felt. It went far deeper than he had ever admitted to himself. He had always been the one to take on the weight of the world. From his brother to the American people, he had fought and spilled his fair share of blood to protect and serve. They, in turn, had spit in his face.

Though he told himself over and over again that his shame was not the reason he was ignoring the job offer Ford had extended, by the time a week had passed he reluctantly admitted it. There was no doubt about it, he was ashamed, and he was hesitant to share that with others, especially happy and carefree Jamie Morton and her forgiving family.

However, with the realization came a new determination to take back control of his life, and he had been offered an opportunity that he should not pass up. Reaching for his phone, he dialed the numbers on the card and immediately received an invitation to meet at Ford's office that Saturday.

It was one appointment he intended on keeping.

Though he was told it would be a casual meeting, he was not expecting it to take place at a sprawling luxury home up in Red Mountain Ranch. When he pulled up to the address Ford had given him, he took a second and third look before finally sighing and turning into the long paved driveway. The house was massive, with oversized and extended garages, a fountain out front, and a long circular driveway that was packed with a Mercedes, a Harley Davidson and a convertible BMW M3, bright red. He snorted. The man he had met the week prior did not fit his idea of an M3 driver, but he supposed it was possible that his people skills were a lot rustier than he thought.

The two-car garage at the other end of the property was open, and as he pulled in he glanced inside. There was the familiar work truck parked next to a BMW SUV inside.

He pulled his truck behind the convertible and shut down his engine, once more reaching for the address he had scribbled on the back of Ford's business card. Sure enough, it matched where he was. He took a deep breath and opened his door, carefully picking his way through the maze of vehicles to the stained-glass front door. The door alone probably cost as much as his truck when it was new, he thought wryly.

The doorbell was inaudible to his ears, most likely ringing somewhere deeper in the massive recesses of the home, but he felt a moment of concern that no one had heard it. Just as he was ready to ring it a second time, the heavy door opened on silent springs and an exotically beautiful young girl stood staring at him with wide black eyes. Long black hair was tied back in two ponytails, and she wore a T-shirt sporting Winnie-the-Pooh. Andrew figured the girl could not be more than twelve or thirteen, but her eyes were mature beyond her years, and her voice when she spoke was that of an older woman.

"May I help you?"

She appeared so well-manicured that Andrew again wondered if he was at the wrong place. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"I'm looking for Ford Evans."

She nodded and stepped aside. "Please come in. I'll tell him you're here. May I ask what your name is so I can announce you?"

Andrew blinked. Announce him? What time period was this girl from? "Andrew. Andrew Sheehan."

His astute gaze noticed the slight widening of her eyes. She knew who he was, most likely from the news. However, to her credit she did not appear frightened. Instead, she smiled broadly. "Of course. He's been expecting you. Please come in and have a seat. I'll tell him you're here."

She led him into the formal living room beyond a stone archway. Heavy leather sofas lined the wall, strategically placed to face the view of Red Mountain off to the northwest. He sat gingerly on the edge of one while she backed from the room, disappearing down a long hallway. Moments later, her shrill voice rang out in a more childish manner.

" _Mom! Dad's friend is here!... Mom!"_

He felt the corners of his mouth deepen. Now that was more like it. No kid should appear as though they are twenty-five, he thought rebelliously.

A second later, a heavily accented Italian voice responded. "Ana Evans. You know better than to shout like that." She continued on in Italian, a language he did not know, which had an immediate Italian response from the child. Then everything went quiet and silence once again reigned.

Taking the opportunity to take a look at his surroundings, Andrew remained impressed. The leather sofas were placed around an elaborate Oriental carpet, and solid mahogany tables rested on either side. Another mahogany table rested between the two sofas, its top sporting architectural and southwestern design magazines. Stained-glass lamps were well-placed around the room, and a large antique tapestry of the Italian countryside resided on the wall above the gas fireplace with a lamp installed above it. He could imagine how lovely that would be on a dark evening.

His perusal was interrupted by nearly silent footsteps in the hallway. He turned at almost the last minute and saw a stunningly beautiful woman, with olive skin and black eyes, dressed in a red sarong over a bathing suit. Just like the daughter, he thought. Feeling even more like an intruder spying her in her swimwear, Andrew realized that he must be seeing Ford's wife.

However, she was smiling broadly, and her wide smile appeased him somewhat. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Sheehan. I'm Isabel, Ford's wife. Welcome to our home."

He came to his feet as she entered the room. Glancing down, he noticed that her feet were bare. Apparently, the family was enjoying their Saturday. She held out a perfectly manicured hand, which he grasped gingerly. Her fingers were cool, but her grip was strong.

"Thank you," he said.

"Ford and everyone are outside. Did you bring a suit?"

He frowned in confusion. "A suit?"

"A bathing suit? They're all swimming now."

As she spoke, a shrill scream reached their ears. Andrew startled slightly and felt the familiar tightness in his chest, but Isabel appeared unconcerned. He glanced over his shoulder and frowned. "Is everything okay?"

"Oh, of course," she said with a chuckle. Her long hand waved dramatically. "That's just Hayden trying to drown Jamie again."

Andrew stiffened, but he had no time to react for Isabel was turning on her heel. "I gather by your confusion that Ford forgot to remind you to bring a suit. I'll see if I can find one to fit you. In the meantime, come with me, and I'll take you outside."

She continued chatting as she led Andrew down the hallway in the direction she had come and into a wide open kitchen with a huge oven, an oversized refrigerator and three other children leaning over the granite counters sneaking strawberry slices off the tray.

Isabel scowled. " _Uscire dalla mia cucina!_ Out! Out!"

Caught red-handed, the three boys snatched their hands back and laughingly hustled out of the sliding glass doors that lined the far wall. Isabel shook her head.

"I apologize for my rudeness, but those boys... They're always into something."

Andrew nodded. "Aren't all boys? I would've done the same."

She laughed again and waved her arms dramatically. "Good point. I had a sister, so I'm new to boys. I don't know how Jamie managed with all brothers. I think I would have gone crazy!"

Andrew felt another smile tease the corners of his mouth. He liked this theatrical Italian woman very much. She was entertaining without even trying to be so.

At the moment, she was staring down at the tray she had neatly arranged making a tsk-ing sound. She looked up at him in apology. "We're now short on strawberries. One more moment, please."

With deft hands, she cut the remaining strawberries in a bowl resting in the deep stainless sink. Andrew watched her work, remembering back in time when he would watch Grandma bake. When he was a kid, he used to help her, but all that ended when he reached his teens. After that, it was embarrassing to be seen in the kitchen, and after his job in the bakery in prison, if he never baked again he would be a happy man.

However, he enjoyed the homey scene playing out in front of him. Isabel had completed the cutting and was arranging the strawberries on the fruit tray, and beyond the sliding glass doors male laughter and the shrieking of children reached his ears. Though he had not been prepared for this, he was almost glad he was experiencing it now. The anxiety in his chest had eased, being replaced with excitement at seeing Jamie again.

Isabel had turned again and returned with another bowl. She spooned in more fruit dip in the center compartment of the tray, smoothing the sides where the boys had dug a hole in the side of the small mountain of white leaving a hole like a volcano crater.

"Perfect," she said with a nod.

Andrew's stomach growled in response.

"Take the tray outside."

Her voice brooked no argument, so Andrew did as he was asked, following behind the petite woman obediently.

She slid the door open and breezed outside, standing aside and closing the door behind Andrew as he exited behind her. He stood awkwardly on the tiled patio, wondering what would happen next as he glanced at the scene before him. He counted four children, the three boys he had noticed in the kitchen and the young girl. She was lounging on a plush patio chaise next to a blonde, her headphones attached to an iPod resting on the table next to the chair.

The blonde next to the girl was obviously the mother of the two tow-headed boys that had been with the dark-skinned one in the kitchen sneaking strawberries and dip. She was older, with a plump face and body, but her manner was cheerful, exhibited by the playful slap she sent at the man on the other side of her. Yet another dark-haired man lounged in the hot summer sun, this one not quite as old as Ford, but still most likely a family member.

Before he could stop himself, Andrew asked. "How many brothers are there?"

Isabel laughed again. "There are four and Jamie. She's the youngest. Ford is the oldest. Grady..." She pointed to the man lounging in the chair next to the blonde. "Is next. Then Hayden, who is most likely hiding behind the waterfall planning his next attack. Ian's next and then Jamie. You've met Ian too, I think?"

Andrew's eyes scanned the large waterfall, where a grotto was hidden behind the water cascading down the rock face. A slide went off to the left, and to the right the negative edge seemed to make the water appear to drain off into the desert beyond. The back yard was as beautiful as the front, classy yet functional. He felt completely out of his league.

"He was at the courthouse?" Andrew asked distractedly.

"Yes, exactly. He just got here and had gone in to change the last I saw. I don't know where Jamie disappeared to." Her gaze scanned the pool. "Ah, I see her. She's about to trample Hayden. Stealth attack."

Andrew's eyes went immediately to the pool while Isabel continued speaking.

"You should see when the rest of the family gets together. The Evans' clan is pretty large, and the boys like to hang out with their cousins. There's Chuck and Zach, and Jamie keeps in touch with Bri. She has a twin brother. Gosh, I could go on forever. Basically, it gets pretty wild around here sometimes."

She chuckled as she took the tray from Andrew's hands. Still not sure what to do and feeling very awkward, Andrew continued to stand in the shade. A winding steel staircase led to an upper balcony over his head, and he saw two pairs of legs begin their descent. That must be Ford and Ian, he thought as he wiped his damp hands on his cargo shorts.

"Ah, here comes Ford. I'll tell him you're here."

Isabel set the tray on a long outdoor dining table already made up with eight place settings. The outdoor dinnerware bore Southwestern patterns, and the red, gold and brown matched the surroundings nicely. He remained next to the table as Isabel went to the base of the stairs.

"Our guest has arrived."

"Excellent."

Ford hurried down the remaining stairs and greeted Andrew with a wide smile. Hand extended, Ford approached and grasped Andrew's in a firm shake. "It's pretty hot today. Can I get you a beer, water, soda? We have just about everything in that fridge there."

He indicated to a built in refrigerator in the pedestal with the grill. Andrew shrugged. "Water would be great. Thanks."

"Sure."

While Ford went to the fridge, Ian held out his hand. "Nice to see you again."

Andrew again shook, remembering that this tall, clean-cut brother was the cop. Initially, he was not sure how he felt about that, but Ian quickly set him at ease.

"Mistakes do sometimes happen, man, but I hope you'll accept my apology on behalf of all law enforcement officials out there. What happened was wrong, and all of Arizona feels pretty terrible about it."

Andrew nodded. "Thank you. I've heard a lot of apologies these last few weeks."

"You deserve a lifetime more."

Ford returned with bottled water and handed it to him while Ian stepped away and removed his T-shirt, tossing it onto an open chair. "Hey, Andrew's here," he said to the other lounging adults.

The two adults instantly rose from their chairs and joined him in the shade, but the teenage girl's foot just continued to tap to the unheard music. Returning his attention to the new family members, he immediately noticed the same friendly smiles greeting him. Though he did his best to reciprocate, his mistrust remained high since he still had not determined why this close-knit family was being so accepting.

"Grady, Torie, this is Andrew Sheehan. Andrew, this is my brother, Grady, and his wife, Torie," Ian announced.

Andrew greeted the smiling pair and listened politely as they also extended their congratulations and sympathies, but his attention had returned to the pool, where he heard a muffled cry followed by a hearty swear. It had come from behind the waterfall.

"Damn, brat, that was pretty low."

He heard her laughter first, and then a dark head emerged from the waterfall.

"Hey, Jame!" Ian called. "Come out here."

She was treading water in the deep end, but she nodded at Ian and lithely swam to the edge. Andrew felt his mouth go dry as he watched her reach for the ladder and climb one step at a time. The water poured down her length in rivulets and plastered her long, dark hair to her back as she emerged. Though she was not trying to draw attention, her graceful movements were the most seductive thing he had seen in years, and he forced himself to look away before he embarrassed himself with his body's reaction. It was the best of intentions, but when she stood on the patio and squeezed out her hair, Andrew's head whipped back around of its own accord.

Oh dear God, he thought in dismay.

She was in a fuchsia polka-dot bikini.

### ***

Jamie was still laughing when she emerged from the pool. She squeezed out the excess water from her hair and reached for a towel tossed haphazardly on a chair. After wiping her face, she glanced back at the grotto, where Hayden was emerging holding his nose. She had gotten him good.

"I think you broke it," he whined.

She laughed again. "I wish." Wrapping the towel around her waist, she ignored Hayden's continued whining and walked over to Ian to give him a quick hug. "Hey, there. You done working for the day?"

"Hey, yourself," he responded. "Night shift. Just woke up, actually. But look, we have company."

He stood aside and glanced back under the patio. Grady and Torie were speaking with an exceptionally tall, broad man. Jamie froze. There was only one man she knew that topped her brothers in height. Surprisingly, it was the last man she ever expected to see welcomed in Ford's home.

"Andrew," she blurted. "What are you doing here?"

"I haven't spoken to her all week," Ford said apologetically. "She didn't know you were joining us this evening."

"Joining you?" Andrew asked.

She would have felt a little sympathy for his obvious confusion if he had shown her any interest. After his initial double take when she first approached, she noticed that Andrew had studiously avoided looking at her since. With a touch of jealousy, she wondered why he refused to talk to her but seemed fine looking at everyone else. He had done the same thing when they visited him at his grandmother's house.

"Yeah. We can go talk first, but Isabel set a place for you for dinner."

Jamie sent a surprised glance at Ford, but Hayden chose that moment to come up behind her and squeeze out a foam pool toy on her head. She jabbed with an elbow and felt satisfaction when it connected with Hayden's midsection and elicited a pained grunt. She glared at him over her shoulder. "We have company, Hayden. Behave."

Hayden straightened and looked beyond her, meeting Andrew for the first time. He smiled and reached past her to extend his hand. "Hey, nice to finally meet you."

Andrew shook yet another hand, and Jamie noticed that he had that same stunned look he had worn when he had been released. The idea of meeting her family for the first time and all at once would scare even the most normal person, let alone a man who had lived primarily with insurgents and convicted felons. Feeling peevish for her initial jealous dismay, she sent him an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry for appearing rude. Hayden, on the other hand, is always rude."

Hayden elbowed her. "Don't believe her. She's still a brat."

Andrew looked from her to Hayden several times before focusing solely on Hayden. "A brat, huh?"

Laughing cheerfully, Hayden rubbed his nose mournfully. "You have no idea."

Andrew's lips compressed thoughtfully, and his gaze swept her from head to toe again before he quickly looked away. "I'll keep that in mind."

Ford spoke up. "Ian's going to cook tonight, and Jamie brought some really good-looking sirloin tips. If you all can leave poor Andrew alone for a bit, I'll return him to you in a few."

Jamie again looked curiously at her older brother and Andrew, wondering exactly what they were up to. There had been no discussion with her about Andrew joining them on their Saturday barbecue; in fact, no man she had interacted with had even been invited to one before. Of course, Andrew was not a normal date. She did not even think he liked her.

Naturally, that made her wonder all the more why he was there.

She never had a chance to ask. Ford and Andrew were already disappearing back inside the cool house to discuss whatever it was that had enticed Andrew to come to their party. As soon as the door closed behind them, she turned to Hayden.

"What's going on?"

His brow rose in surprise. "You didn't know?"

"Know what?"

"Ford gave him a job."

Jamie blinked, stunned. Not only had Ford never approved of anyone she brought home, he certainly had not encouraged anyone to work for him. Even Clay, who was a corporate lawyer, was never utilized for his knowledge at any point. "He did? When was this?"

Hayden shrugged. "Dunno. I just found out today that he was coming over. I guess you mentioned to Ford that you wanted to help him get his feet back on solid ground, and he's trying to help."

"No one told me."

Even she could hear the dismay in her voice, and her mouth clamped shut immediately. Torie stepped forward and placed her arm around Jamie's shoulders. "Ford's doing a good thing," she said. "He's trying to help you help him get resettled."

"Yeah, don't worry, Mom," Ian said playfully. "He's not up to anything sinister."

"I wasn't..." Jamie trailed off as she realized that she was actually thinking the worst.

"Sure you were. You're in a tiff because you thought Ford was doing something behind your back. He's not. I talked to him about it last week, and I know he's only trying to help," Grady said.

"First time ever," Jamie muttered.

Torie chuckled. "That may be true, but when he offers, he does follow through."

The boys had taken over the pool in the adult's absence, so Jamie went to the fridge, grabbed a water bottle and sat down at the table to sample the fruit platter Isabel had brought out. Hayden pulled out the chair next to her and grabbed a handful of orange slices, popping several in his mouth and then reaching in for a grape to finger football it into the side of her face. She sent him a withering scowl.

"And how old are you?"

Hayden chuckled, obviously feeling pleased with himself. "Relax, Jamie. You were right about this guy, and Ford agrees with you. You should be glad that he trusts him enough to have him here."

She harrumphed.

"You don't need to be upset that you weren't the one to invite him. You don't have to control everything."

"That's not it at all. I don't think the guy even likes me. After all, I'm the reason all those years of his life have been wasted."

Hayden frowned. "I don't think that's true. You're the reason he's out now. I'm sure that counts for something."

"Yeah, well, it's awkward."

Confusion spread across Hayden's face, but Grady stepped in on his behalf. "The guy has been ostracized for years now, and suddenly he's got to start all over. I'm sure that makes him feel awkward. Give him time. He'll settle in once he realizes that no one here is going to bite him."

"You sure about that?" Ian called. He had bent over to light the grill but straightened and stared pointedly at Jamie. "Mama Bear over there looks angry enough to bite him hard."

"Grady's right," Torie said, ignoring Ian. "I could see it on his face when we spoke. He looked like a deer in headlights. Can't blame him... I guess we all just need to be patient."

"What is this 'we'?" Jamie said. "It's done. I spoke to Chuck, and he says that the detectives are looking at two suspects, one of which is pretty interesting. He lived in Kit's apartment complex and was considered a weirdo. If they make the arrest, Andrew will resume his life without any help from me."

"But you're the only friend he has right now."

"That we know of," Jamie said to Torie. "He may have a whole bunch of old buddies."

She shook her head. "I don't think so. He doesn't strike me as the most outgoing of individuals."

Having lit the grill and closed the lid to allow it to warm up, Ian joined the group at the table. "He's here now, and we'll all be as polite as possible. We're adults and can behave as such, Jamie."

Her lips twisted sarcastically. "Fine. We'll all behave."

They did.

Ford and Andrew were not gone long, and when they returned, Ford was looking very satisfied. Jamie kept her distance, preferring to work in the kitchen with her niece, Ana. They prepared a potato salad and fresh greens while Ford and Isabel catered to Andrew in an effort to make him more comfortable. Torie worked on the other side of the kitchen preparing chili and beans as side dishes. Though she tried not to, Jamie stole several surreptitious glances to the patio to check on Andrew, and each time he appeared as nervous as she felt.

Awkward.

Ana chatted gaily with Jamie while they worked, filling her in on her latest Facebook friend and the drama of being a freshman in high school. While Ana kept up the chatter, Torie brought Jamie a glass of wine, and she gulped it down quickly to steady her nerves.

Luckily, the wine helped. By the time they began to bring out the food and set the kids up at the secondary patio table, Jamie was feeling more accepting of Ford's deviousness and more relaxed. The appreciative words of the hungry family pleased her, and though Andrew did not speak much, the way he dug into his meal with gusto gave her a sense of satisfaction.

As was customary, talk during dinner went around the table. Every member gave an update on their lives and careers, and Jamie noticed how carefully Andrew listened. Rather than have him squeeze in between others, Isabel had placed him in her seat at the opposite end from Ford. The position placed him in plain view of her, and Jamie kept a close eye on him throughout the meal. He eventually relaxed as the conversation continued, but she never saw him crack even the hint of a smile, despite the ribbing between the brothers and laughter from the others. In normal Evans way, they continued their noisy dinner until darkness approached, and Jamie arrived with dessert. Ian leaned back in his chair with his customary appreciative belch.

"Great dinner," he announced. "Although, _I_ must take credit for the awesome grilling job. The meat came out perfectly, if I may so."

A murmur went around the table, first admonishing Ian for his terrible table manners, followed by hearty thanks from all around. When Jamie offered Andrew the plate with chocolate chip brownies, he met her stare for the first time since his arrival.

"Thank you for dinner," he said.

After reaching for a brownie, his pale gaze held hers for several moments, and she took the opportunity to search his eyes for some inclination as to what he was feeling. He was so guarded that she could not read any emotion in the honey depths, but she wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to. Another charged moment passed before she finally looked away in disappointment. She just could not read him.

Smiling thinly, she withdrew the plate. "Anytime."

Continuing around the table, she handed out the rest of the brownies before clearing off the remaining plates and returning to the kitchen to help with the cleanup. By the time she reappeared outside to say goodbye, Hayden and Ana were in the pool with the boys playing volleyball while the remaining brothers had taken over the lounge chairs and were cheering the kids. Though Andrew watched in silence, Jamie immediately noticed that his body was less stiff, and he seemed to be more relaxed than when he first arrived. She approached and hugged each brother in turn, but when she reached Andrew, he had already come to his feet and was returning his chair to the table.

"I'll walk out with you," he said in explanation.

Jamie hid her surprise from her gaping brothers and nodded her agreement. "Okay."

Following Jamie's lead, Andrew expressed his thanks to everyone while Jamie went to the kids in the pool. When she was done, he was waiting patiently by the sliding glass door, his hand resting on the handle as though he was ready to bolt. Another round of farewells followed in the kitchen before Jamie and Andrew stood alone for the first time since they had initially met. They stood uneasily outside the front door as Andrew scanned the driveway. His brow was creased in a frown.

"Which car is yours?"

"Oh, I walked over. I don't live far from here."

"You walked?" He stared up at the sky, which had grown dark in the hours they had spent with her family.

"Of course. Why drive when it's just down the street?"

"But it's dark... I'll give you a ride."

Unable to help herself, she laughed out loud. "I'm fine. I walk here all the time. This neighborhood isn't exactly dangerous."

Andrew had the grace to look slightly embarrassed at her teasing words. "You're right... Tools of the trade."

Jamie immediately felt guilty. Surely it was not Andrew's fault that he was nervous. After all, he had seen enough in his lifetime to never trust anyone again. "Sorry about that."

He glanced down at her with a determined set to his jaw. "I'll walk you home."

"If you do that, you'll have to walk all the way back to get your truck," she pointed out wryly.

"I don't mind. After eating all that food this afternoon, I could use a good walk myself."

Heart pounding in her throat, Jamie looked up and met Andrew's pale gaze again. It was too dark to read his expression, but he was actually looking at her for a change in addition to asking for her company, which had to mean something. Now she was responding by suddenly feeling nervous? Reminding herself that this was her opportunity to have him to herself, Jamie bit back her anxiety. Why was she seizing up with indecision and feeling vulnerable and afraid? That was not the Jamie Morton she knew. Taking a deep breath, she spoke before she could refuse.

"All right, then. Let's go."

### Chapter 11

Hands stuffed deep into his pockets, Andrew walked alongside Jamie in the darkness, listening to her even breathing and the sound of her flip flops slapping against the hot pavement. He was not sure what had spurred him to walk her home; she did not seem to want his company anyway. However, there they were walking side by side in silence, and he had absolutely no idea what to say to her.

He felt like an inexperienced teenager.

To her credit, Jamie appeared as relaxed as ever. Though he had caught a glimmer of hesitation when he first insisted, she had carefully masked it and seemed as confident as usual. It surprised him how easily she had given in and agreed to walk alone in the dark with a convicted murderer, and he had to admire her pluck for placing her trust in him so effortlessly. If he was anyone else, he would have shaken her for doing something so foolish.

They were approaching the end of Ford's street when Jamie thankfully broke the silence. "So you're taking a job with Ford?"

There was no reprimand in her voice, only curiosity. He sent her a sidelong glance. "For the time being, yes."

"Good for you."

That sounded earnest.

It bolstered his confidence slightly, and he attempted to keep the conversation going. "You have an interesting family."

She chuckled. "That I do."

As she spoke, he realized he really did like her family. They had not stared at him strangely or asked him questions about his past. They seemed normal and wanted to treat him as if he was, too. He wondered if that would ever be possible, but he had to give them credit for trying. "They seem like good people."

"They are."

He was growing frustrated with her closed-ended answers, and he could not come up with anything else to talk about. She took a right at the end of Ford's street, her pace fluid but unhurried. They were now on the main road going through the community, and orange street lights lit their path. Her pace remained even as she pointed to side-street far ahead.

"I'm up there."

In a last ditch effort to come up with something to talk about, Andrew reached for his last straw. "Ford told me that you used to ride."

He sensed rather than saw her step falter, but her voice was clear when she answered. "He did?"

"Yeah, when you came to see my grandmother. He mentioned that you used to do events."

"Jumping."

"Impressive. Why did you stop?"

She turned her head to stare at him curiously. "My parents got sick with cancer. First my mother; then my father. I had no time to show anymore because I was caring for them."

This was something he did not know, and he immediately felt remorse. "I'm sorry... I didn't know that."

She smiled briefly. "I wouldn't expect you to."

He glanced down at her, but she was still looking forward.

"When they died, I moved in with Ford and Isabel while I finished high school. Ford took me to some events, but it was too much, and I sold Duffy. I haven't ridden since."

"That's too bad."

She waved her hand in dismissal. "It was a long time ago."

"Have you considered riding again?"

A silence descended as she considered his words. "Honestly, I hadn't thought about it. Life goes on, you know?" When he nodded, she continued. "First there was college, then the career, then marriage followed by divorce... Now all this. I guess I've been too busy to think about what to do in my off-time."

"You're divorced?"

As soon as he spoke, he wanted to kick himself. In his efforts to speak with Jamie, he was bringing up every painful memory the woman had. No wonder she did not want to be near him.

Without looking at him, she nodded her head. "Yeah, a while ago now."

He swallowed hard and gathered his courage. Change the subject quick, he thought, or this walk home with her will be your last walk home with her. There was a time when he never would have hesitated. He would have found it easy to talk to her and express his interest. The night he first met her, she had liked him. He left feeling confident that had she not have been engaged, he would have gotten her number. However, so much had changed since then. Now he was labeled a criminal.

Taking a deep breath, he took the plunge. "Now that I have a job, I'm going to need help caring for the boarders and training Tabasco, so I can sell him. If you're not too busy and might be interested, come on out."

Bracing himself for the polite refusal, he held his breath. After meeting her family, he now understood where Jamie learned her graciousness, so he expected nothing less than a friendly but unequivocal snub. However, he was taken aback when she stopped and stared at him in open-mouthed surprise. He also stopped and stared as her dark eyes widened to the size of saucers, and he was instantly reminded of an excited child being granted a much coveted gift. While not what he expected, he had to admit that he was pleased. However, before he could relish the moment, her eagerness subsided and her tone became more suspicious.

"You want me to help you with your horses?"

"They've been pretty lazy lately." He saw the uncertainty return to her eyes and immediately felt suspicion of his own. "Why?"

She shrugged, but he heard the hurt in her voice. "I didn't think you liked me."

Now that was unexpected. He could not have been more surprised if she had reached out and slapped him across the face. Without another word, Jamie turned the corner onto the side street and crossed the gravel in the front yard of a modest ranch house. He watched her for a moment and then began to follow, still stunned. She reached into the pocket of her shorts and pulled her keys free before looking over her shoulder for him, and his steps quickened until he caught up to her standing by her darkened front door. "Why would you think that?"

"For obvious reasons, I guess." She reached out and patted his arm lightly. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. It's no big deal."

"No, I'm glad that you did," he said firmly. "Jamie, there are many things that I think of you, but I can tell you right now dislike is not one of them."

A hint of a smile appeared on her lips. "I'm not sure how to take that."

He could feel the color in his cheeks rise uncomfortably. They were burning, and he hoped the darkness hid it well. "Take it any way you like. Just know that I don't dislike you at all."

He wondered if the desperation he was feeling was apparent in his voice, for she suddenly smiled up at him. "I'll see what kind of schedule I can come up with this week and let you know." When he nodded, she tilted her head in the direction of the house. "Would you like to come in for a minute?"

Her continued show of trust pleased him more than her invitation, but he decided not to push his luck any more that evening. Shaking his head, he took a step back in the direction of the street. "Thanks, but I should get back to my truck."

She nodded her dark head and pushed open the door, greeting both of them with a blast of cool air. It felt good after the hot walk to her house. Air conditioning was one of the things he would never take for granted again.

"Maybe next time," she said as she stepped inside. Once she flipped on the outside lights, she turned around and again smiled at him. This time her smile was less timid, and he decided right then that he liked seeing her like that. "I'll let you know as soon as possible. Sometimes I do home appointments for work, so I have to check what days I'm free."

Nodding, he was about to turn away when she reached out and laid a hand against his cheek. Her palm was warm and feather soft. Despite his eagerness to feel her touch, he could not help but flinch, and when Jamie noticed her hand fell back to her side. "Drive safely, Andrew," she said softly.

"Enjoy your evening," he said in return.

Backing away slowly, he raised a hand to say goodbye. She responded in turn, calling out to him one last time before he reached the end of her driveway. "If I can't make it any evenings this week, how about Saturday morning?"

Andrew stopped walking and turned around, wondering how it was possible that Jamie had no inkling how badly he wanted her company. "Anytime you want, Jamie."

She nodded and disappeared back inside, but not before he saw her happy smile. As the door closed and the lock set, he heard her muffled whoop. It was not until he reached the corner to turn back onto the main road that he realized something had definitely changed.

He was actually grinning.

### ***

Despite the scowl sent her way, Jamie continued whistling when Andrew joined her in the barn three Saturdays later. This was her third time rising before dawn and making the drive out to Grandma's Apache Junction home on her day off. Instead of lamenting the loss of extra sleep after a long week, she actually looked forward to seeing the horses. Getting back in the saddle again after so many long years was cathartic.

This was her eighth trip out since Andrew had first mentioned it to her, and their uneasy truce had developed into a cautious friendship. She was growing more accustomed to his moods, and he was slowly learning to open up to her. After her first visit, she realized what Ford had deduced that first evening. Andrew had a patient and gentle way with the horses, showing no aggression or anger when a command was not followed... Or when she did something stupid, she thought with a wry smile.

Though she still had yet to hear Andrew's laughter, she thought she had caught a glimpse of a smile one day earlier that week. She had not tightened the girth properly on Bruno's saddle and landed on her backside in the dirt at the old horse's hooves. Once Andrew was sure she was okay, he came over and straightened the saddle. His lips were compressed tightly as if holding the smile in, but he glanced over at her as she regained her feet and brushed off her rump.

"Amateur."

His gentle teasing was so unexpected that Jamie laughed out loud. "I try," she said lightly.

He was still staring at her as she finished brushing herself off, and when she looked up she saw that the corners of his mouth had deepened considerably. For the first time, Jamie felt as though she had made some progress with him. She mounted up gracefully the second time and sent him a saucy, triumphant grin.

He shook his head in return. "I was beginning to worry about you."

"I do know how to ride," she declared. "It's just been a very long time."

"Well, let's see what you've got, Champ," he challenged in return.

She had shown him, and she had proven herself so well that this was to be their first ride off the property. Andrew had suggested an easy trail ride along the base of the mountain earlier that week, and she had jumped at the chance. Though he was scowling this morning, he still seemed eager, for he arrived in the barn with a cooler under his arm.

"Linda packed us some food," he said in explanation.

Jamie's brows rose. "She did? Is the ride that long?"

"Depends on the weather," he said with a shrug. "If it gets too hot, we can turn around any time."

Judging by the eighty-something degree temperature at the moment and the clear star-filled sky, Jamie suspected it would top the century mark by late morning. Despite her concern, Andrew seemed unaffected. He grabbed Tabasco's lead and went to collect him where he dozed under the lean-to across the pen. After running him through some games in the round pen to loosen him up, Andrew led him back in where Jamie was brushing out Bruno. She was still whistling under her breath.

"You're very chipper this morning," he said shortly.

"And you're very grouchy."

"Yep," was his reply.

"Everything okay?"

"Yep."

She briefly considered questioning him more but had learned enough about his personality to realize that he would not elaborate unless it was something she needed to know. With his back squarely toward her, it was obvious that this was not one of those things. Though feeling a bit stung, she did her best to ignore him and continued tacking up Bruno. She did not whistle again.

Giving the old chestnut a light rub on the neck, Jamie led him past Andrew into the yard. Holding the reins in one hand, she reached inside the open window of her car and pulled out the bottled water she had brought. She tucked them into the insulated saddle bag she had tied on the back of the saddle and then scratched Bruno's ears while she waited for Andrew to appear.

The sun was just starting to rise behind the mountain, and it gave the intimidating cliffs a purplish hue. She found Venus in the early morning sky, a bright light of happiness and stability. No matter what mood Andrew was in, she was happy to be out here and eager for their ride.

"Are you coming or not?"

She was so lost in staring up at the sky that she did not see him approach, but she heard his short command. His head was still lowered, so Jamie could not judge his expression with the hat that hid his face. She frowned but did as she was told, mounting the old quarter horse and steering him to the gate. Pouting at his back, she followed as he led Tabasco through the gate before latching it behind them. As soon as it closed, Bruno's ears perked in excitement. She could tell it had been a while since he had left the yard.

Before she could comment, the old horse let out a whinny, to which Rojo answered immediately. The others trotted to the side of the pen and watched as Andrew mounted up and guided Tabasco into the lead.

"We'll head east until we hit the Forest Service trail. Then we'll go north for a bit."

The path was too narrow for them to ride side by side, though Jamie doubted Andrew even wanted that at the moment. He was in deep concentration, focused solely on Tabasco, who was jittery and skittish. Jamie remained respectfully silent and attended to Bruno. The older horse had again whinnied to express his reluctance to leave his herd.

After a few minutes of steady riding, Bruno calmed. The house was not in immediate sight anymore, and the trail had grown increasingly rocky. Jamie was enthralled at the wild desert around her. Old and overgrown mesquite trees, with branches dangling down to the ground, provided the perfect den for slumbering coyotes. Aloe plants and cholla cactus grew to either side of the trail, mingled in with the never-ending sea of brittlebrush. The monsoon season had brought out the green of the desert, and an almost-emerald carpet of life surrounded them on either side.

The repetitive calls of a family of quails met their ears moments before they shot out on the path in front of Tabasco. He startled briefly, but Andrew quickly got him back under control. The skittish reaction reminded Jamie to focus, and she returned her attention to Andrew. Though he was far more skilled a rider than she was and less likely to get hurt, she did not mind watching his broad, T-shirt clad back even if he was acting sullen. For such a large and well-toned man, he sat in the saddle with the same stealthy grace that he moved with on the ground. Jamie had to admit that she was no more immune to it now than she was when she first met him. She just wished he felt the same draw of attraction as she did. Actually, she wished he could feel anything at all.

At the entry to the trail, Andrew pulled up Tabasco and waited for her. His eyes were still shielded behind his hat, but his voice was less clipped when he spoke. "How are you doing?"

"Oh we're fine," she said. She reached out and stroked Bruno's neck. He was not even warm yet.

"Good." He nodded. "I've been thinking of a change in plans, if you're up for it."

"Depends on what it is," she responded lightly. Inside, though, she was crossing both her fingers and toes in the hopes he would not suggest they turn back.

"Instead of heading north toward the state park, I'm thinking of going south instead."

"Okay then."

"It's more secluded that way. I doubt we'll see any hikers on the trail."

She sensed the unspoken challenge and test of trust in his cautious words, but she refused to flinch. Her days of suspicion had passed long ago. "That's not such a bad thing, is it?"

"Not at all. We're less likely to spook Tabasco."

Of course it was not that he wanted to be alone with her, she thought mutinously. She raised her chin. "Let's go."

The path had opened up a little now that they were off the game trail, so Jamie steered Bruno alongside Andrew when he waved her up. Riding side by side was more enjoyable for her, even though Andrew remained silent. Although he was not feeling talkative, she did notice that he kept a close eye on her. She felt his stare every so often, and he pointed to loose rock areas for her to be careful guiding Bruno through. After another half hour of this spotty talk, she finally reached behind her to the saddlebag.

"Would you like some water?"

"I should finish my coffee. That'll wake me up."

She unscrewed the cap to her water bottle and took a deep drink, aware that he was watching her as her head tilted back. When she finished drinking, she replaced the cap and met his stare.

"It's still cold. You sure you don't want one?"

Her words seemed to shake him from his reverie. He shook his head briefly and reached for his travel mug. "I really better finish this, so I can become more human. I didn't offer you this trail ride to ignore you the entire time."

It's about time, she fumed, but she hid her irritation behind an indulgent smile. "Don't worry about it. I like the quiet."

She lied in an effort to appease him the way he tried to appease her. Instinctively, she understood that this was his way of apologizing for his moody behavior, which in her opinion was a step in the right direction.

She watched him as he downed his remaining coffee. "Did you sleep at all last night?"

He shrugged. "No more than any other night."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

Not knowing what else to say, she adjusted her baseball cap on her head and settled back in her saddle to enjoy the ride. Andrew did the same until they made yet another turn onto a rock strewn double path. Instead of following the base of the mountain, this time they were heading back toward one of the steep, overgrown, brush-filled canyons. There were no trails marked into that canyon, and she felt a moment of hesitation again.

"This is an old wagon trail," he commented as he pointed out the two wheel furrows. "It's grown in a lot in the last hundred or so years, but you can still see where the mules pulled the wagon."

She looked at the path with new eyes. "I wouldn't want to be that mule."

"I wouldn't want to be the miner who had to bring them up there. There's no water, and it's pretty rough," Andrew agreed.

"Where does this lead?"

"It's a surprise," he answered. He glanced over at her to judge her reaction. When she smiled, he swept an arm out to indicate around him. "Just watch how the landscape changes. Back there was all brittlebrush. Up here, the growth is much thicker and dense."

"You know, now that you mention it... The canyon must run-off something fierce after a good rain storm."

He nodded. "I've seen bobcats and a mountain lion or two in this area. I think they prefer the denser vegetation."

"And the bunnies," she said, pointing to yet another rabbit hopping out of their way. Bruno flicked an ear as it shot past.

They watched it go for a few moments. Then Jamie turned back to him. "How often do you come up here?"

He paused as though considering her answer, but after several long moments of silence she began to wonder if he had no intentions of answering her. Assuming it was just another mood swing, she returned her attention to the scenery when his voice reached her ears again.

"My brother, Adam, and I used to come back here all the time. This is my first trip since... The trail we just came up on wasn't built when I was a kid."

Grandma had told her about Adam's betrayal and Andrew's resulting despair. She decided to keep it light. "How did you get through if there was no trail?"

He shrugged again. "We made our own."

She chuckled as she imagined two boys wielding machetes. While it was a bit over the top, it was definitely a possibility.

"What? You don't believe me?" He asked in response to her laughter.

"Actually, I do believe you. That's what made me laugh."

"Do I want to know?"

"Probably not," she replied.

That earned her another intent stare, but she merely smiled. "Remember, I grew up with four brothers. I know what you boys do."

"Having met your family, I'm sensing a bit of unfair bias," he muttered.

"With them, anything's possible," she agreed with a grin.

They returned their attention to the trail when Tabasco stumbled on a loose rock. The trail had grown steeper almost unknowingly, and it was rougher than the manmade trail they had recently turned off of. Jamie fell back to keep an eye on Tabasco's front leg to make sure he was not injured while Andrew skillfully weaved their way through.

"When I was in Afghanistan, some of our guys used horses. I think I was probably one of the only ones who knew how to ride, but they were smart and learned quickly."

"I didn't know that," Jamie said in genuine surprise.

"We wanted to blend in, and horses were a way to do it."

Not knowing how much he would disclose, this having been their first conversation about his months overseas, she remained neutral in the hopes he would talk more. "That's very interesting."

"Picking our way through brush wasn't uncommon. This reminds me of that."

Disappointment surged. He was not going to open up. "I see."

"Horses are surefooted."

She agreed. How many jumps had she faced where she thought there was no way Duffy would make it over? But he had, and beautifully so. "They know their limits."

"Yeah, probably better than we do." He twisted in his saddle to look at her before pointing to a large rock cairn to the right on the trail ahead. "Do you see that marker? It's about five minutes past that."

"Where does that marker go?"

"Nowhere that we can take the horses. There's a cave – you may have seen it from the highway – but we'd have to go on foot. I'll bring you up there another time."

While not exactly the promise of a date, it was something. She smiled at his back. "That sounds like fun."

If he sensed her pleasure at his offer, there was no indication. His head remained lowered as he scanned the safest route forward over the rocky terrain, but Tabasco knew exactly where to step and Bruno comfortably followed. She had all but given up again when he shot her a quick glance. "Let's wait a bit for the weather to cool, okay?"

Pleased, Jamie grinned. "Not a problem."

"Are you hot?"

"It's getting warm." Which was an understatement. The rising sun had begun to scorch where it hit. She could already feel her T-shirt clinging to her back, and her legs felt damp where they rested against the saddle. She was ready to get down and stretch her legs. She imagined Bruno was ready to get her weight off him, too.

"We're almost there."

Sure enough, the large rock cairn loomed to their right, and Andrew steered Tabasco to the left, down into a wash and up the other side. They went through a thick patch of overgrown mesquite and ironwood trees whose branches threatened to scratch their faces and claw at their knees. The seldom-used trail had grown narrow, and Jamie was reminded that she was placing a lot of trust in a questionable man that she did not know very well. Anything could happen out here in the desert. However, she was not afraid. All she could see at the moment was that Andrew was showing her something he enjoyed. In her mind that proved his trust in her even if his words did not, and she was pleased that he had chosen her to show his special place to.

A spiny bush reached out and scratched her arm, breaking her reverie. She leaned to the side with a muttered curse, drawing Andrew's attention. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." Even in the midst of a foul mood, he still showed concern. She liked that – perhaps too much.

"It's a lot thicker than it used to be."

She snorted. "I'll take your word for it."

After another few minutes of breaking through the thick brush, Andrew pointed to a small clearing. "We're here."

"And where exactly is here?"

She followed him through the last of the thicket, her mouth falling open in surprise as she realized what lay ahead. The clearing was on higher ground, with washes running down either side. Trees surrounded it on all sides, though there were various game or foot paths leading away in several directions. In the middle of the clearing lay the foundations of a small stone house. It was completely hidden from view from the trail but strategically placed to see downhill. She gasped in surprise.

"Whose house was this?"

Kicking his feet from the stirrups, Andrew lithely dismounted and immediately set about loosening the cinch. She jumped down and did the same to give her peaceful and hardworking mount the same courtesy. Her legs felt stiff and her backside was sore, but being on the ground was welcome. She shook out her legs as she carried her saddle over to a large rock.

While he settled Tabasco, he told her what he knew. "I'm not sure who the guy was, but there were a lot of men who came out here to look for the Lost Dutchman's Gold Mine. You're familiar with that legend, I suppose?"

She chuckled. "Of course. Who isn't?"

"There's a mine around here. The guy built the house with stones from the wash. This is all that's left."

He indicated to the stone foundation. The tallest part of the house was the fireplace, still standing and still bearing the marks of long ago fires.

"His trash pile is off over there." He pointed off to a deep depression surrounded by trees. "I used to pick through it when I was a kid."

"Did you find anything useful?"

"No, just some old rusted cans and a snake or two."

She grinned. "So no gold?"

He shook his head. "The mine isn't near here; it's up in the cave. I'm sure he didn't bring any of the dump back here – too much to carry."

"Do you think he found anything in the mine?"

Shrugging, Andrew tied Tabasco to a tree branch before reaching for her lead and doing the same with Bruno. "These guys came out with dollar signs in their eyes but never found anything substantial. Superstition Mountain is primarily made of dacite left over from the volcanic activity a few-million years ago. But every mountain range has to have their legends, right?"

"I suppose."

He cocked his head to the side as if in thought. "There was gold found over in Goldfield, so who knows really?"

With the horses taken care of, Jamie took the opportunity to wander around the clearing. She inspected the remaining stones of the foundation of the house, as well as the few marks of graffiti that stained the historical value of the fireplace. It was well built even though it had been vandalized, and Jamie was enthralled with the piece of history he was sharing with her.

She glanced over at Andrew. He was watching her as she ran her hands over the stones. "This is amazing."

Her response seemed to please him. "I'm glad you like it."

"Like it? I love it," she said with a broad smile. "I feel as though I've discovered a lost world."

The corners of his mouth deepened again, and Jamie smiled wider. He was actually smiling at her. Her heart leapt in triumph.

"It's not really a secret," he said indicating to the graffiti. "Plenty of people have come up here, so we're not the first."

"Shush," she admonished. "Let me think that we are."

To her amazement, he chuckled. It was the first time she had heard his laughter since he had been freed. She watched in awe, her heart racing in her chest.

"Suit yourself." Still smiling, he reached for the cooler Linda had packed for them. "Hungry?"

"I am," she answered.

"I'll see what Linda put in here for us."

Finding a smooth rock on the north side of the foundation, Jamie sat down while Andrew crouched on the hard-packed dirt in front of her. He unzipped the cooler and pulled out some covered Tupperware bowls, plastic utensils and plates, and some picnic napkins. He arranged everything neatly on the ground beside him, carefully balancing the utensils on the lid of the largest bowl.

Linda had gone all out in her food preparation. There was a fruit salad in one bowl, blueberry muffins in another, and a third had a mixture of cookies and brownies. He offered her a muffin and napkin and scooped some fruit salad onto a plastic plate. Once she had taken it, he did the same for himself and then settled on the ground beside her, leaning up against the low rock wall of the house with his long legs stretched out in front of him. His feet crossed at the ankles as he steadily munched on his breakfast.

"There's a lot of food," Jamie commented.

"I think she wanted me to camp out here with you," Andrew said. He glanced up and followed his cheeky comment with a wink.

So unused to his humor, Jamie laughed. It was a glimpse of the Andrew she had met that fateful night at the bar. She was reminded of how disappointed she had been that she would never see him again but knew now that for some reason she had been given another chance. This time, she would not blow it.

Hoping to keep his mood light, she widened her eyes innocently and playfully pursed her lips. "Or she was afraid you'd get us lost out here."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," he said wryly.

"I'm not too worried," she continued as if he had not spoken. "I'm sure Tabasco and Bruno can get us back once they get hungry."

"So you'd trust an animal over me?"

She grinned. "Maybe."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "We can test that theory if you want. I can pack up and leave you here..."

"To see if I make it back?"

"Sure."

Still grinning, she shook her head. "I think I'll pass this time. I enjoy your company far too much."

Though she was keeping in the lighthearted vein of the conversation, there must have been something in her voice that drew Andrew's attention. She watched as his head swung slowly upward, and his pale eyes smoldered with more feeling than she had ever seen from him before. The intensity of his gaze was so strong that her heart gave a lurch against her chest, and she felt herself instinctively lean toward him.

His reaction was swift and unexpected. Reaching up, he pushed her baseball cap away from her face and cupped the back of her head. The hat hit the ground behind her as he drew her down, and she did not resist as he pulled her closer. Instead, her lips parted slightly just moments before his came up to meet hers. The initial meeting was tentative, almost hesitant, but he quickly increased the pressure as well as the grip on the back of her head, angling her slightly to deepen their contact. Heart racing with excitement, Jamie relaxed into him and followed his lead, opening further to grant him access even when the pressure of his mouth went from exploration to a much greater need.

Since he was not one to show emotion outwardly, she was taken aback by the power behind his kiss. His lips were assertive and insistent, and his obvious desire for her boosted her confidence. One hand left the safety of her lap to rest on his chest. He was warm, and his shirt was slightly damp from their long ride and the hot day. Underneath her palm, his heart raced as quickly as her own. Her acquiescence seemed to encourage him more, for his free hand reached around her waist and drew her down off the rock wall. His lips never left hers as he settled her onto his lap, and his deep groan of satisfaction escaped between their meeting mouths.

Andrew felt strong and solid beneath her, and she settled herself astride him with her knees clutching his hips tightly. Wiggling her hips in response to the firm pressure against her inner thigh, she felt his hand slip from her waist down to her hip where he held her tightly in place. There was a lot of strength in that hand, and she pressed against him harder. All the while, his lips teased hers, deepening and then withdrawing, only to attack her once more with insistent need. Head spinning with excitement, she let her hands slip under his shirt to caress his smooth skin of his chest, and her belly tightened as warm desire rushed through her loins. Receiving everything she had hoped for and more, she was ready for him, wanted him with a passion that took her breath away, and was exhilarated that he had finally responded to her.

Though she was being kissed like never before, the growing passion between them seemed to catch Andrew off guard. As if he suddenly realized what he was doing, he abruptly pulled away and lifted her from his lap. As she landed in the dirt, he scrambled to his feet and took several hasty steps away. Turning his back to her, he ran one hand over his face and around his neck before shoving both hands into his pockets.

His voice was rough. " _Jesus_."

She sat on the ground in dazed confusion, her legs askew. With wide eyes, she took in his heaving shoulders, her own breathing as ragged as his. A slow flush stained her cheeks as she realized what he had already concluded. She had been ready to let him go even further, right there on the dirt floor of the shaded house in the mountain.

While he composed himself, she kept busy by returning the bowls and their used plates to the cooler. Her eyes were averted as she worked, and she remained silent with only the sound of his breathing and the chirps of the birds to break the quiet.

Finally, he regained enough control to face her. "We should go."

She nodded in agreement and returned to Bruno, who was dozing in the shade under a tree and unhappy about having his saddle replaced. However, when she mounted up and turned to the path, his ears pricked forward with excitement. Andrew allowed Jamie to lead on their way back, and she felt his hot gaze on her back, silently brooding the entire time. They did not speak, not even when they dismounted and cooled off the horses. Confusion replaced elation, and that brief glimpse of warm happiness was overshadowed by sadness. Everything had changed so quickly. What had she done?

By the time Jamie was walking to her car, she was near tears. Not sure of what had happened and not sure how to respond, she collected her cooler and walked back out into the harsh sunlight. Feeling the urge to escape from the ruined day, she marched quickly to her car, but Andrew's hand briefly touched her shoulder and halted her progress. Turning slightly, she glanced back to see him holding out her favorite black baseball cap. Her cheeks reddened when she realized she had left it on the ground.

"Oh, thank you."

He nodded, refusing to meet her gaze. Though he cleared his throat, his voice was exceptionally deep when he answered. "I'll see you next week then."

Afraid her confusion was plain on her face and would be evident in her voice, she only nodded her head.

"Okay. Drive safe."

Spinning abruptly, he strode away without another word, leaving Jamie to sulk in silence.

### Chapter 12

He made a huge mistake.

Or maybe several... He could not decide which.

All he knew was that her car was driving away, and he did not stop it.

Instead, he stood in the drive and watched her disappear from sight, feeling frustrated and angry with himself and her for what had transpired. Though it was not her fault, he wished she had pushed him away with a hard slap across his face rather than purring in pleasure and curling into him like a kitten struggling to get warm. Oh yes, he was warm at the moment, uncomfortably so.

Damn her for wanting him.

Damn him for letting her leave.

He was a fool, a fool for taking advantage of a nice moment and doubly a fool for pushing her away. For the first time in a long time, he had held a woman in his arms. Not just any woman either. It was Jamie, the woman who had kept him alive while he was locked away. The woman who had brought back his smile. She was the only one who had believed in him and trusted him during his darkest days, and he could not think of anyone else who would have given him the chance to show off his favorite places. Certainly there was no one else who could keep his anxiety away like she did. When he was with her, he thought of nothing and no one else.

Now she was gone. He had frightened her off because he was too weak to fight his problems and ashamed of the man that he had become.

Growing aware of the sweat trickling down his back, Andrew turned away from the now-deserted dirt road and strode up to the back door, hoping that his grandmother was nowhere in sight so that he could disappear without answering any questions. Unfortunately, she was at the table with the cordless phone in front of her. She looked up and smiled as he closed the slider behind him. He had remembered to remove his boots and leave them outside, and her eyes twinkled as she noted his feet.

"So, how was the ride?"

"Tabasco did well. He spooked a couple of times but was easily managed."

"He's coming along nicely, Andrew. You've done well."

Coming from his grandmother, that was extremely high praise. Horses had been her life for as long as he remembered, and there was not another person he knew that could measure up to her skills in working with the magnificent and high strung animals. She was a natural.

"Thanks."

"It's too bad you want to get rid of him, Andrew. He's a good horse."

"I can use the money."

"That's nonsense. You have a job now, and your lawyer is working on your compensation case."

"But you took out a huge mortgage to help me. I won't rest until it's gone."

"I'll take it out of your inheritance," she responded lightly.

He frowned. "No... I'll take him out a few more times to work out the bugs, maybe take him out on the road before I put him up for sale."

"Good idea." She pointedly looked beyond him to the empty drive. "Where's Jamie?"

He could feel the angry flush rise on his cheeks. "She had to get home."

Grandma's brows rose as she shrewdly took in his frustration. "You didn't have a falling out, I hope?"

He had no idea what to call what had happened between them, but a falling out was not exactly right. He shook his head. "No, not at all."

"Oh good. I like her. She's a good girl... and she's good for you."

Andrew shifted uncomfortably, not liking the direction their conversation was taking. Remembering the cooler on his shoulder, he slipped it off and turned his back on Grandma. He busied himself by unpacking it and putting the leftovers in the fridge.

"Don't you agree?"

He glanced down at the plastic plates and utensils Jamie had thoughtfully wrapped in their discarded napkins to keep from spilling and making a mess in the base of the cooler. It reminded him again of how good she had felt in his arms.

Knowing that his persistent grandmother would keep pressing if he did not respond, he finally caved. "Yes, I do."

"I was thinking of having her over for dinner Monday evening."

His hands froze over the trash bin. "Why?"

"Your brother called me back while you were out on your ride. He's flying in tomorrow afternoon. You can collect him at the airport, right?"

The true reason for Andrew's cranky morning, he thought in irritation. For once, Adam was keeping his word and was coming home. Andrew felt the familiar tightening in his chest, though he could not fathom the source. It could have been his reaction to Jamie or the idea of finally confronting his younger brother. Maybe a combination of both, he thought sourly.

"So he is?"

She nodded. "He's flying on Southwest. I think he lands at 5:20 pm."

"I'll meet him," Andrew said.

"Thank you."

One dark brow rose in question. "Did you think for a minute I would say no?"

"Of course not, but after what happened you never know... So what do you think about having Jamie over for dinner?"

He swallowed hard. After what had transpired that morning, he was not sure she would ever come back out. "I'm not sure. She sometimes meets with clients in the evenings."

"Clients?" Her surprise was evident.

"She's a financial advisor, Grandma," he responded quickly.

"Oh, I didn't mean anything... I just wondered why she would have to go out after hours."

"People work."

"Well, I'm going to ask her anyway."

"If you want."

"Good. I haven't seen your brother in a long time, Andrew. I wonder how he's been."

"You and me both," Andrew muttered.

He reached for the kitchen sponge and wiped out the cooler before setting it back on the counter to dry out. As he did so, he heard his grandmother push away from the table and approach him. Her hand was cool against his dusty arm.

"I know he wasn't there when you needed him, Andrew. It hurt me to see him take off like that and leave you alone after everything you went through for him, so I can only guess how you felt. But you know that he's never been the strong one. That was always you."

"I know."

"You're just like your grandfather. You accept everything life throws at you with open arms. Adam, on the other hand, is like your poor mother. He can't handle difficulties. He runs away – like she did."

"Grandma," he said. "Not now."

Her hand fell away from his arm reluctantly. "You're right. You've had a busy morning. What are your plans for the rest of the afternoon?"

"I'm going to clean up then I'll fill in those cracks on your ramp so you don't get hung up. I don't want to do it when the sun is high."

"I heard you last night," she commented softly. "You should sleep the whole day away. The ramp can wait."

Though he wanted nothing more than to be alone, he knew that if he hid in his room he would only think. He had done enough thinking over the last five years that what he needed was a mindless activity to distract him. The ramp was right up that alley.

"I'll see how I feel."

"Good. I'll tell Linda to stop blasting the rap music."

Seeing the humor dancing in Grandma's eyes, Andrew shook his head in mock reprimand. "You two ladies are trouble."

She giggled lightly like a young girl. "You ain't seen nothin' yet, boy."

He snorted and tossed the sponge back on the rim of the sink. Shaking his head, he headed down the hall to his bedroom wagging his finger as he went. "I'll be watching you just to make sure you don't get yourself into any trouble, young lady."

"I was kind of hoping you would," she replied. "I feel safer already, soldier."

Closing the bathroom door against the sound of her laughter, Andrew ran the shower. The cool water felt heavenly against his heated skin. He took his time washing away the dust and the sweat, knowing that he was also washing away the scent of Jamie. Her sweet, fruity scent was almost as potent as the smell of horse, and he was reluctant to see it go. Damn, it had been too long since he had been near a woman.

As he showered, he again replayed the events of the morning in his mind. Attacking Jamie had never crossed his mind, not for lack of wanting to but due to the deep-seated respect he had for her. She and her family were like a television sitcom show. Humorous, loving, intelligent and classy, they were a group that he could never hope to compete with. He had nothing to offer Jamie, and she deserved so much.

Granted, lustful thoughts of her were not new to him; he was only human, after all. However, today his tenuous grip on his control had slipped. While he never intended on taking advantage of her in any way, today he had, and now he felt like the lowest form of life.

Roughly toweling himself dry, he shoved his legs into his shorts and returned to his bedroom where he threw himself across the bed with a remorseful groan. The soft bed felt like heaven to him, and the cool duvet felt good against his cheek. Even if he wanted to lament his mistake over and over, sheer exhaustion took control. His eyes closed before he could pull back the covers, and he drifted into the dreamland he resented so much. However, this time his dreams were of Jamie, with her silky soft skin and eager moans. Her heavy lidded eyes called him, and her gentle hands soothed him. Relaxing completely, he enjoyed his dream for the first time in a long while.

### ***

Monday continued the surprise heat wave from the weekend, and Jamie groaned when her alarm went off, having spent another night of tossing and turning with worry. It still bothered her the way she had left Andrew's after their ride. She knew she should have said something to break the tension, but she had been so stunned by what had occurred and embarrassed by her own shameless behavior that she had fled like a coward. Still shocked by her wantonness, she found it little surprise that he pushed her away.

When the phone rang Sunday morning revealing Grandma's home number, she had answered eagerly only to bite back disappointment when she heard Grandma's voice inviting her over for dinner after work. Too afraid to commit, she had put the elderly woman off under the guise of having to check her schedule. In truth, she hoped Andrew would have contacted her by now to at least let her know that he did not think she was too easy.

He never called.

As quickly as it rose, her anger with herself eased, and she tossed aside her duvet to begin her morning ritual. Determined to have a productive morning, she arrived fifteen-minutes early at her office and was already hard at work when Melissa entered.

"Good morning," Melissa offered cheerfully.

Jamie looked up from filling the coffee pot and forced a happy smile. "How was your weekend, Mel?"

"My weekend? Are you kidding? I'm dying to hear about yours. Did you take that ride you were so excited about?"

Jamie had thought about the inevitable questions she would face that day and planned her response carefully. Her one hope was that her young employee would not catch the uncustomary lie. She turned on the coffee pot to start it brewing and crossed the room to place her lunch in the small fridge. "I did."

"Well... how did it go?"

"It was long and hot, but it was fun."

"Where did you ride? Was it a trail?"

Jamie shrugged. "Part of it was. We had to plow our own, too."

Melissa fell silent and watched Jamie carefully while she spread jelly on half a wheat bagel with her head down. Unfortunately, she had swept her hair into a messy bun that morning, so she was finding it difficult to hide from the watchful gaze. After what seemed an eternity, the young woman pushed away from the counter and put her lunch pack in the fridge before spinning on her heel and placing her hands on her hips.

"All right, what happened?"

Jamie feigned innocence. "What do you mean?"

"For someone who was so excited, you seem... let down today."

"It was fine. Both horses behaved magnificently."

"Did he?"

"Who?"

"Your friend."

The color in her cheeks belied her answer. "Of course he did."

"Then what happened? Did you have a fight?"

"No, not a fight, just a...miscommunication."

Melissa's face fell. "Oh no. Have you spoken to him since?"

"No, he hasn't called."

"Why haven't you called him?"

Melissa had started a relationship in the spring with a nice boy she met at school. He was studying to be a firefighter and found the time to help Melissa and Zoe get by. Initially, Jamie had felt a motherly overprotectiveness when Melissa first mentioned her infatuation with Kip, but it eased right after she met the man in the flesh. He was as ambitious and caring as Melissa, and Jamie hoped their relationship would grow even deeper. In her opinion, Zoe needed a father figure, and Kip had the patience to deliver. However, Melissa's idealism clashed with Jamie's bitterness. She had already worked her way through one failed relationship, and her obvious loneliness might have just cost her another one.

She shrugged. "I just haven't."

"Why not?" Melissa pressed. "You know how important it is to communicate in a relationship."

Fortunately, the coffee had finished brewing, so Jamie steered Melissa away from the awkward conversation. "Do you want some?"

"Please. Black."

As she prepared their coffee, Jamie carefully considered Melissa's wise words. For just barely being over drinking age, Melissa had a level of maturity beyond her young years. "You're absolutely right, Mel, but it's complicated."

Melissa raised her chin and huffed. "Nothing is more complicated than losing a potentially fulfilling relationship."

With that she turned on her heel and carried her mug over to her desk, placing it down on the blotter and then pulling her chair out to get to work. Jamie shook her head in amazement. The girl was absolutely right.

By the time she had returned her voicemails and emails, she had her hand on the phone and was dialing Andrew's mobile. To her dismay and increasing insecurity, it went straight to voicemail. Fearing he was busy, she hastily hung up with the hopes that he would see the missed call and ring her back. By lunch, she still had not heard anything. She dialed again, aware that she had to respond to his grandmother's invitation soon or risk being seen as rude.

The second time it went straight to voicemail, Jamie got nervous. This time, she left a message, but she also grew worried. Her next call was to Arlene, who cheerfully answered on the first ring. "Hi, Jamie."

"Hello, Arlene," she replied.

"We were just talking about you. Did you have a chance to take a look at your schedule?"

Hearing Linda's cheerful voice in the background asking Arlene to find out if she liked pot roast made Jamie feel a twinge of guilt for her well-planned answer. "Actually, I have. I have a meeting at six this evening. It would run an hour or two, so I'm afraid I can't make it to dinner."

"Oh no." Her disappointment was evident in the tone of her voice, perhaps overly so. "Linda already has the roast in the oven. We felt sure you'd be able to come."

Jamie cringed. She had really done it now. "I'm sorry. Is it a problem to take a rain check?"

Arlene continued on as though Jamie had not spoken. "Andrew told me that you sometimes work in the evenings, but I felt certain that you'd be able to clear your schedule this one time. We had a surprise and wanted to share it with you."

Jamie's head dropped to her desk, though she still cradled the phone next to her ear. Feeling like a recalcitrant child, she struggled to find a way to redeem herself. Think, think, think, she told herself, and then she sighed in resignation.

"I'll see if my receptionist can get a hold of my client and reschedule. Can I give you a call back?"

"You sure can, honey."

The satisfied tone to Arlene's voice sounded suspiciously like manipulation to Jamie, but she accepted it reluctantly. "I'll let you know."

"Wonderful. We're all so excited to see you tonight."

Jamie replaced the phone on the handset and rubbed her temples absentmindedly. She was trapped and she knew it. Melissa appeared at her desk though Jamie did not look up.

"Did you call him?"

"Left him a message."

"So you're not going to be a coward and avoid him are you?"

Raising her head, Jamie pursed her lips and considered Melissa's question. Whether she wanted to or not, she was going to have to see him at dinner. Would she be a coward and avoid him? No, she was not a coward.

"Of course not."

Melissa smiled. "Good."

The ringing phone drew their attention. Melissa returned to her desk and sat down, answering with a chipper greeting. Though not exactly feeling chipper herself, Jamie managed to make it through the remainder of the day with focused attention on her work. Even when she called Arlene back and replied in the affirmative, she kept her voice light and even. However, as she was walking out to her car she did check her mobile phone again to see if Andrew had answered.

Still no response.

His truck was in the driveway when she pulled in. Shutting down the car, Jamie sat for a minute and wondered what her next move should be. It could go one of two ways. Either she could stride up to the front door and enter as a guest, or she could act as though she and Andrew had not broken a string in their tenuous friendship. In her opinion, nothing had been done that could not be undone. It was not his fault, and she needed to be a little more sympathetic to his moods. After all, the man had been through a lot. Growing uncomfortably warm in the car, Jamie came to a quick conclusion. She would go to the door as Andrew's friend and put the whole kiss behind her, and hopefully he could do the same.

Luckily, when she opened her car door another option was presented. The unmistakable sound of activity was coming from the barn like the lids being removed from the feed tins. She paused and glanced that way... Or she could make amends with him now before joining his family in the house.

Pushing away from the car, she picked her way across the gravel. Her sandals were not ideal for parading around the barn, but she could manage. Though the barn was dim after the bright sunlight of the Arizona afternoon, Jamie caught sight of Andrew leaning over a feed tin in the tack room. However, Andrew was not filling their pails; it appeared as though he was reaching for something behind the bins. She wondered if he had dropped something and stepped in to offer some help.

"Need some help?"

There was no indication that he heard her, so she stepped further inside. Aware that her sandals were getting dirty, she picked a path in the semi-darkness as carefully as she could. He still had not moved when she came up behind him.

"I left you a message earlier. Did you get it?"

Still no response. She frowned, but as her eyes adjusted to the dim interior she realized that there was a cord dangling by Andrew's ear. When did he get an iPod?

Taking another step forward, she reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Andrew?"

What followed was completely unexpected.

With the speed of a rattlesnake, his arm whipped out and grabbed her by the throat, pushing her back against the wall of the tack room with his elbow holding her shoulders tightly against the wall. Thrown back painfully, a strangled cry escaped her lips, and her hands came up immediately to claw at the force squeezing her tightly and cutting off her air supply. The clip holding her hair in place dug into her skull, but it was nothing compared to the sharp rise in panic she felt that someone so strong held her completely immobile. She could not move.

Then a sharp voice rose from the doorway.

"Adam!"

As quickly as she was seized, she was released and collapsed in a fit of coughing. Sagging against the wall, eyes wide and stunned while she struggled to stand on her wobbly legs, Jamie realized with a mixture of fear and relief that the man standing before her was not Andrew. He was actually a much younger version of him, perhaps an inch or two shorter and slightly smaller in build. There were similarities though. He had the same short, dark brown hair and classic features that had initially made Jamie's breath catch. Jamie realized that this had to be the brother that had abandoned Andrew for his career in the military.

At the moment, she was granted a view of his profile while he watched Andrew advance from the doorway. Heart racing in surprise and fear, Jamie resisted the urge to run to him. She had not seen Andrew dressed formally since his trial, and though she thought he appeared incredibly handsome, his jaw was clenched so tight that his face was white. He was so furious that she felt slightly intimidated, despite the classy black slacks and button-down blue shirt.

"Are you crazy?" Andrew asked Adam in a tight voice. "What in the hell were you thinking?"

Adam took another step away from Jamie and held his hands up soothingly. "Sorry about that," he said when he finally looked at her. "You startled me."

"You shouldn't have your headphones in. Not in the barn with the horses," Andrew snapped.

He was concerned about the headphones? What about her? But as he spoke, he came to stand in front of her defensively. Though he seemed to do it unconsciously, the protective positioning was not lost on Adam. She watched him flush in embarrassment and then glance between the two of them with interest. Assuming it would be up to her to calm the tense situation, she laid a hand on Andrew's arm and stepped out from behind him.

"I'm sorry I caught you off guard," she said in a strangled voice, which Andrew noticed. She felt the muscles of his arm go rigid under her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Though her throat was sore, she knew that she would be fine.

Adam's eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the interaction. Eyes sparking with an unidentifiable emotion, he gave her a slow and careful once over, but the measuring assessment felt lewd to her already hypersensitive opinion. Brother or not, she was distinctly uncomfortable.

Once again, Andrew came to the rescue. His voice was sharp and commanding, the authoritative tone taking Jamie by surprise. She was not used to seeing Andrew so assertive. "Adam," he barked.

The younger man forced his attention back to his brother. "Completely my fault. I guess I'm a little high strung," he said holding out his hand with a short laugh. "I'm Adam."

"Jamie." Her hand trembled slightly when she accepted his grip. As firm in greeting as it was against her throat, his hand was slow to release hers. She shifted uncomfortably and again resisted the urge to hide behind Andrew.

With a cool smile that did not reach his eyes, he gave her yet another once over. "I've heard a lot about you, Jamie... It's nice to meet you." Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and brushed past them both. "I'll see you inside."

Andrew only waited to make sure he did not turn back before he turned to face her. "Are you okay?"

When she raised her gaze to meet his worried stare, she was surprised at the extent of emotion on his face. Though she had learned that he was a gentle and empathetic man, he was no longer one to reveal what he was thinking. After all, she had only seen him laugh on one occasion. So when she saw the fear and anger on his face mingled with concern and panic in his pale eyes, she attempted to smile. The mollifying parting of her lips did not register with him, for her upturned face revealed her neck fully to him.

"He hurt you," he snapped.

Despite his obvious fury, he reached out and gently tilted her chin to fully inspect the marks on her neck. Though she could not see them herself, the tightening of his lips told her everything she needed to know.

"I'm fine," she said hoarsely.

His voice was cold. "I'll take care of this."

"No, Andrew, it's okay. I'm fine."

She shook her head to emphasize her point, only to stop when the clip holding her hair tumbled to the floor in pieces. Andrew watched as her hair tumbled free in a tangled, curling mass around her shoulders. Her hand shot out to catch it, but Andrew reached out and captured her wrist.

"Leave it... It's nice."

Drawing her hand away from her hair in a gentle grip, he reached out with his other hand and loosened the remaining strands caught in the twist, de-tangling the wavy curls around her shoulders with his unskilled fingers. Jamie was frozen to the spot, so taken aback by his action that she was afraid to move. Though his movements were inexperienced and bordered on clumsy, the look of awe and appreciation in his anxious eyes made everything else seem to fade away, and that warm feeling she had in her belly after their kiss returned. When he was satisfied with his work, he bent and retrieved the broken plastic clip, grasping the two pieces and handing them to her apologetically.

"I'll replace that," he said huskily.

"It's okay. It's so hot that I have plenty to spare."

"I noticed you always have your hair up."

He had? She stared up at him, again surprised. He had the grace to look a little uncomfortable and changed the subject quickly.

"Are you sure you're okay? You sure he didn't hurt you?"

"More startled than anything," she responded softly. "I thought it was you in here."

"I was waiting in the house."

"I heard him moving around in here and thought you were feeding the horses. He was bent over the feed tins looking for something, I guess. I must have startled him like he said."

"Don't make excuses for him," he growled. "He should know better by now."

Know better? She frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "It's a thing lots of guys come home with after their deployment."

"They do?"

He cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable with the direction their conversation was taking. Still, he spoke patiently. "When you're in combat, Jamie, you tend to get a little too defensive at times. Sometimes it's hard to let it go when you get home."

"I've never seen you react that way," she protested.

"Just because you haven't seen it doesn't mean it hasn't happened. I'm still jumpy, too."

Before she could stop herself, she reached up and cupped his cheek. Though his jaw flexed under her hand, this time he did not flinch. "You've been through so much, Andrew."

The corners of his mouth deepened in his attempt at a smile. With warm fingers, he captured her hand and drew it away from his face. "But I'm still here, aren't I?"

"For that, I am eternally grateful," she said, realizing that she meant it. Very much.

His response was to squeeze her hand encouragingly before letting her go, but Jamie was satisfied with that. After their fiasco up on the mountain, she was just pleased that he was not running away from her, and she felt better seeing some of the restrained rage ease out of him.

"We better go before Grandma sends out the search team."

With one last critical perusal of her neck, he indicated with his arm that she should precede him. Like a silent ghost, he followed close behind her. Jamie felt less self-conscious, for one thing had become clear during their brief conversation in the barn. He was not immune to her any more than she was to him. There was no doubt that there was something growing between them. Only one question remained. How much longer could they avoid it?

### Chapter 13

As soon as Jamie entered the kitchen, she saw why Andrew's phone had gone straight to voicemail. Though only a few weeks old, the phone was in several pieces in a bowl of rice on the counter. It was not hard to determine what had happened.

"Did your phone get wet?"

His gaze followed hers to the counter, and a slight flush rose on his cheeks. "Damn technology. Things are so sensitive nowadays."

She chuckled. "I tried to call you a couple of times. I thought you were avoiding me."

Confusion replaced his embarrassment, and he frowned slightly. "Avoiding you? Why?"

When she did not answer immediately, a look of understanding suddenly rose on his face. He glanced away and cleared his throat. "No, I wasn't avoiding you, Jamie."

"What happened to the phone?"

Just as eager to change the conversation as she was, Andrew shook his head. "I was filling the water trough last night, and it slipped out of my pocket."

"It's completely ruined?"

"Yep. Off to buy a new one. I'll pick it up after work."

Hearing their voices in the kitchen, Linda came bustling in with her shy smile and warm eyes. "Oh, you're here just in time, Jamie. We've just finished setting the table."

Jamie slapped her forehead. "Darn, I brought something. It's out in my car. Give me just a sec?"

"I'll get it for you." When her mouth opened in protest, Andrew shook his head and stared meaningfully at her neck. "No, I'll get it. Go sit down."

Jamie watched as he exited then turned to Linda to help her gather up the remaining dishes on the counter. The smell of fresh-baked rolls and steamed asparagus filled her nostrils. Her stomach growled as Linda sighed.

"Now that's a good boy," Linda said wistfully.

"He is," Jamie agreed.

"I'm glad you came. Adam's here for a visit, and Andrew got some news that he wanted to share with you. He's refused to talk about it so far. He was waiting for you before he'd announce it to us..."

This was new to Jamie, and her brows shot up in surprise. "Really?"

"Well, that's what he said this morning."

Linda led the way back into the dining room. It was an area of the house that Jamie had not visited before, and she could not resist her curious gaze as it traveled through the elegantly furnished and spacious home. The same wood beams that supported the back and front patios were present in the dining area as well, and a long line of floor to ceiling windows faced the mountain, more specifically the canyon she and Andrew had ridden to. She stared at the magnificent sight before her, taking note of a massive saguaro cactus whose arms seemed to point where the cabin was hidden in the trees. Feeling warm again, she remembered their kiss, and the way he had stared at her that evening when her hair fell free.

Sighing, she returned her attention to the table. The highly polished mahogany table was set with fine china and crystal wine glasses. Burnt copper napkins matched the array of orange and red roses in the centerpiece. She was about to comment on the elegant array and beautiful views when she suddenly felt tense.

Adam had arrived.

He had showered and changed from the red T-shirt and cargo shorts she had seen him in outside to a button-down, pale-green shirt and khaki slacks, and his short hair glistened with water. The musky smell of his recently applied cologne tickled her nose, but it was a pleasant scent and not unattractive. This Adam was almost a different person from the wild-eyed man who had attacked her outside. Clean-cut and sporting a charming smile, he reminded her so much of Andrew the night she met him that Jamie shook her head.

"Hi, Jamie," he said as he entered. "Like that view?"

So he wanted to start over, she realized. She responded cautiously. "This room is angled perfectly."

His brows rose in surprise. "You haven't seen the house yet?"

"Not all of it," she replied with a shake of her head.

"After dinner, we'll give you a full tour. My grandfather, my brother and I built this house. You think the view in here is nice, you should see the living room. It faces off to the Flatiron. My grandfather angled the house exactly right to take the best of the views from all directions."

"You did a fabulous job. It must've been a lot of work."

He chuckled, but like before the amusement did not reach his eyes. "I hated every minute, but my grandfather insisted."

Jamie attempted an understanding smile. "I can imagine. Your grandfather sounds like a very clever man."

"He was. Smartest man I knew."

His voice was almost too friendly, she thought nervously. His movements were quick, jerky, unpredictable even. She breathed a sigh of relief when Linda reappeared with Arlene following right after.

"Sorry I'm late," Arlene said reaching for Jamie's hands. Jamie approached and was pulled down for another warm hug. "I'm glad you could make it."

Jamie was aware that Adam was watching her interact with his family and wondered what he could be thinking. It must have been quite a shock for him to hear that his brother was not only released from prison, but already had a woman friend his capable grandmother and Linda knew personally.

"I'm glad to be here. I was just meeting Adam, and I forgot to say welcome home."

Giving her a brusque nod, he stared beyond her to smile at his grandmother. "Thank you."

"Has it been a while since you were here last?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, actually. I was on deployment then back to the base. I haven't used any leave time in a while."

"It must feel good to be back again."

"A lot's changed."

"When did you fly in?"

"Last night."

Jamie struggled to keep the conversation rolling, but Adam was not very forthcoming about his private life. "And how long are you here for?"

"I'm on leave for thirty days, but we'll see how long I stay here. Right now, I'm not sure."

As he spoke, his eyes drifted to the doorway. Andrew was standing with her bottle of wine in his hand, appearing tall and devastatingly handsome. His gaze scanned the room before coming to rest on her. "Do you want this chilled?"

Linda pushed away from her seat on Arlene's right and reached for the bottle. "We have a nice ice bucket I can put that in. Let me take it and go sit down, Andrew. Everything's going to get cold."

"She's right," Arlene said quickly. "I apologize for being tardy. I had a bit of trouble with my wheel here, but it's better now."

"I'll look at it after dinner," Andrew said as he pulled out the chair next to Linda for Jamie.

Smiling her thanks, Jamie sat down and watched as Andrew and Adam took their seats. They exchanged glares, and for a moment she feared another blow out. Apparently, there was still a lot of repressed emotion between them, and the episode in the barn had not made it any better. Luckily, Linda returned, carrying the wine bucket filled with ice and smiling from ear to ear. She regained her seat and spread her napkin on her lap, which prompted everyone else to do the same.

"Jamie, you're amazing. You picked a Cabernet Sauvignon, which is perfect with the pot roast. How did you know?"

Jamie smiled. "My sister-in-law is quite the connoisseur. She taught me well."

"Andrew, would you carve the meat?" Arlene asked.

Andrew shook his head. "I'm not the guest of honor. That task should go to Adam."

"You're absolutely right," Linda said cheerfully.

Arlene nodded and watched as Andrew handed the blade and fork to Adam. While Adam set about carving the meat, Andrew reached for the wine and deftly removed the cork. It sprung open with a solid pop which caused Adam to noticeably flinch. The knife clattered to the plate, but everyone studiously busied themselves while he hastily picked it back up. Jamie caught Andrew watching Adam out of the corner of his eye while he continued pouring out four glasses of wine, but to all obvious appearances, no one had paid him any mind.

Struggling to do the same, Jamie watched Andrew. She had never seen him drink alcohol before, and this time was not any different. His glass contained only a drop of wine in it, enough for one toast. It was a curious fact about him that she wanted to discuss, but with tensions still high she decided it would have to wait for another time.

A wise decision, she realized just a moment later. As soon as Adam finished carving the meat, Andrew lifted his glass and indicated that they all follow suit. His eyes went around the table and rested on each one of them before he finally spoke.

"I just wanted to let you know that it's officially over. All charges against me have been dropped, there will be no civil suit, and I am completely exonerated. The case has been reopened, and I'm also back in good standing with the Army." He paused and turned his attention to Jamie, holding his glass toward her. "I could never have done any of this without your help, Jamie. Thank you."

"Hear, hear!"

Everyone cheered while Jamie bit back the sudden sting of tears. She reached out and grasped his hand. "I'm happy for you, Andrew."

"We all are," Adam announced, though his voice lacked conviction.

"It's time to put this all behind us. I know it's been a long and difficult time for you, but you've survived, and I think you're a better man for it. Now you can embrace your future with a true sense of value." Arlene held up her glass one more time and turned her attention to Adam. Her eyes shone with unshed tears as well, but her voice was firm. "And I would like to toast Adam's return. We've missed you, and I'm one of the happiest ladies alive to have both her boys back home safely after all the terrors you've both faced."

"Thanks," Adam said. "It's good to be home."

Plates full and glasses nearly empty, everyone dug in. It was one of the best meals Jamie had tasted, even in comparison to Isabel and Torie's cooking. Linda had gone all out in steaming her vegetables, whipping her potatoes, baking her buns, and most especially preparing her roast. The meat was so fresh and perfectly prepared that it almost melted on their tongues. All around the table murmurs of appreciation rose, and Linda colored under all of the attention.

Once they had taken their initial bites, Adam's attention returned to her, and she noticed that he toyed with his steak knife the entire time they spoke. The way he spun it from the tip concerned her, for he was entirely too skilled with a blade for her comfort. She could easily imagine him thrusting it into someone's chest.

"So you're the girl that came forward? I didn't know that."

Jamie nodded, carefully watching his sporadic actions. "When I moved back to Arizona I saw a story about the case."

He noticed her slight defensive tone and smiled. "Yeah, too bad you couldn't have been there when it first happened and saved Andrew a few years of his life."

Jamie flushed but kept her chin high. "Had I known they were looking for me, I most certainly would have."

Andrew frowned at Adam in warning. "Jamie did everything she could. I wouldn't be here now without her excellent memory."

Jamie sent him a thankful glance and swiftly changed the subject. "So Adam, I understand you're recently home from overseas?"

Skillfully flipping the knife, he caught it in his hand and returned to his plate. After cutting several more pieces, he looked up with a similar expression that Andrew bestowed on her a few times. That look gave her the chills for it was almost lifeless, cold and distant. "I've been in Iraq several times over the years. My last deployment lasted thirteen months."

She sighed. "I'm sorry you've been away from your family so much. I've heard many mixed stories about the events over there."

Andrew and Adam exchanged a look of brotherly understanding. Then Adam shrugged. "Don't believe everything you read. There are good things happening over there and there are bad. Back home, the media and politicians spin it in the direction they want to take it, so it's either all one way or the other."

"That's true," Linda said from beside Jamie. "I just heard on the news about civilians being killed in great numbers, and then I read a story about some soldier coming home and saying how many schools they've built."

"You never know, do you?" Jamie said.

"No, you don't. You can't trust anyone, because they all lie. Take a look at Andrew. He's a perfect example."

"Adam," Andrew warned.

"No, this is my exact point," he said hastily. Returning his attention to Jamie, he continued speaking. "So my brother spent nights completing raids to knock out bad guys and while building roads and schools during the day for civilians. Their payback was a planned ambush for his unit that nearly took his head off, and he's still got the shrapnel in his neck, and a huge scar on his face."

Jamie stared at Andrew while Adam continued. Though she could tell Andrew was not happy, she could not deny that her curiosity was aroused. The hush at the table advised her Linda and Grandma's were, too.

"He's almost blind in his left eye because someone panicked during the attack. Some thanks, right?" He glanced at Andrew. "Hey, Andrew, how many of your buddies died in that blast?"

Andrew's silverware clattered to the table loudly, but he avoided her gaze and addressed his angry brother. "Everyone makes mistakes, and everyone has their scars, Adam. Mine just happens to be more noticeable than others."

Jamie clenched her hands in her lap to stifle the urge to run her fingers along his scar. In her opinion, it defined him and made him stand out from others, but apparently to him it was a reminder of a failure.

He was not a failure in her eyes.

"It was a mistake that cost you a career," Adam sneered. "You're just a civilian now."

Andrew noticeably stiffened, and his voice was cold. "A civilian with a job."

"Not as good of a job as you deserve, though."

"Maybe if you'd been there when everything went down, I'd be doing better now. You were there that night, too."

Another hush fell in the room, and Jamie shifted in her seat. The tension was rising in the room and emanating from Andrew. She could see his grip on his eating utensils had grown so tight that his knuckles were white, but she had no idea what to say or do to help the situation. This tension had been going on for some time between the two men, long before she had arrived.

Adam's mouth tightened, but he held his tongue.

"A career is a lot better than a life. Brad paid for his mistake in the worst possible way," Andrew said in a low voice.

"Thousands have," Adam snapped. "For what? Nothing. What have we really accomplished?"

Thankfully, Arlene's firm voice cut in. Just in time, Jamie thought nervously. "Enough of this depressing talk. You boys are home now, and I'd like to enjoy your good news instead of hashing up the terrible things you've seen."

Linda smiled at Adam. "I'm so glad you're here, Adam. You haven't been home, and we've missed you."

"It's been too quiet," Arlene said.

Sighing, Adam turned his attention away from Andrew and relaxed. Jamie noticed that Andrew did not. "I have time banked now. They made it possible for us to carry over any extra time, which is really cool for most of the guys. It's supposed to expire, but I'm hoping his new policy will be extended. Most of the guys I know have kids, and they want to spend time with them."

"Which reminds me," Linda said. "How is that girl of yours... what was her name?"

Adam glanced down at his plate. "Gracia and I split up last spring."

Her face crumbled. "I'm sorry. I was wondering why you didn't bring her out to meet us."

He jabbed violently at his dinner roll with the knife he had been toying with the entire meal. "I would've if she hadn't run off."

"I had hoped you'd have babies by now..." Linda's voice trailed off wistfully.

Her point was made, though. The two ladies were not getting any younger. The brothers exchanged a glance as if accusing one another for not having a family. Adam's attention turned to Jamie, who quickly glanced down under the guise of folding her silverware across her plate while Andrew hastily reached for his glass of water and took a large sip. His hasty gulp caused him to choke uncomfortably, and he held his napkin to his lips as he coughed.

The remainder of the dinner encouraged less intense conversation, focusing on Adam's plan for his thirty-day block leave. Andrew and Adam attempted to work out a plan for sharing Andrew's truck, but Andrew now used his truck to get to his work sites, so it fell to Arlene to offer her vehicle. Jamie almost piped in and offered her car, but her fear of this on-edge brother of Andrew's caused her to hold her tongue. This time, she was going to trust her instincts.

While they discussed logistics, Jamie and Linda began clearing the table of their dishes. She smiled at Arlene as she scooped up her plate and silverware. "Thank you again for having me. It was one of the best meals I've had in a very long time."

Arlene smiled. "I hope we'll have plenty more with you."

Jamie nodded and backed away from the table. "We'll see."

No sooner had Jamie and Linda begun rinsing the dishes and stacking them in the dishwasher than raised voices once again reached her ears. She glanced at Linda, but the older woman merely laughed nervously and continued rinsing.

"Is it always like this?"

"When they're speaking, yes. They're brothers."

Jamie thought of her brothers and the relationships they shared. While sometimes Grady ended up bearing the brunt of her other brother's mockery, they all remained cordial. There was something different about Adam. There was a lot of rage radiating from him.

"They've never gotten along?"

"When they were children, they got along very well. Andrew's older by six years, and he always took really good care of Adam growing up, but Adam was pretty upset when Andrew joined the military. He felt as though he'd been abandoned by his brother the way his parents left him. As soon as he could, he enlisted as well, but he ended up in Iraq while Andrew was in prison and couldn't follow in his brother's footsteps. It was hard on both of them... Adam's been through a lot, Jamie. He's not completely recovered."

"Recovered?"

"From the war. He came home the first time and told us about all the dead people he saw. He drank to ease the pain, but that didn't help much. It stayed with him... Andrew too. Both boys had a hard time. But now Andrew seems to be doing better. He doesn't have the nightmares he used to have."

Jamie frowned in concern. Andrew had just mentioned that to her outside. "Is he jumpy like Adam?"

"Sometimes. He took to standing outside in the storms to deal with the thunder and lightning. It must have helped a little bit because he's calmed quite a bit." She winked at Jamie. "I think that you've kept him so busy he doesn't have time for night terrors anymore. It's awful quiet in his room nowadays."

"Do you think that Adam will get better?''

"I hope so, but his drinking and his temper are something fierce."

Jamie glanced back to the doorway where the muffled voices seemed to grow in volume. She was fairly certain that there were more dishes to be cleared from the table, but she was reluctant to go back in the room. The last of the dishes were stacked in the dishwasher, and Linda shut the sink tap off. Suddenly the raised voices were clear, and she froze when she realized that she was the subject of their conversation.

"...So she got you out because you're screwing her? Where did you find her? One of those prison pen-pal lists?" The taunt came from Adam, and his voice carried a suggestive tone that made her distinctly uncomfortable. He followed up with a laugh. "I don't really blame you, bro. She's a nice piece of ass."

She could not hear the low words that followed, but Adam's response was palpable and cut her to the bone. "How can you hold her in such high regard when she let you rot in prison? You kiss her ass when she did nothing to stop what happened. If I were you, I'd kick her back to whatever rabbit hole she came out of before she screws you over again."

She heard a scuffle next. What appeared to be silverware clattering onto a plate and a chair shoved back was explained just a few seconds later. Arlene's strong voice echoed clearly into the kitchen.

"Adam, I will not have that language at my dinner table, and I will not have you insult our guest... Andrew, let your brother go."

Silence reigned. Then there was the sound of more clattering plates. "I said _let him go_!"

Jamie backed away as quietly as she could and returned to Linda's side. Wavering between sneaking out of the house without saying a word or coming up with a quick excuse, she finally turned to Linda. "I think I may finish up in here and get home. I have a bit of a drive."

Linda smiled, but her eyes bore a look of sorrow that matched the feeling deep in Jamie's stomach. "It does get a little loud, doesn't it?"

"I feel as though I'm intruding," Jamie admitted.

Reaching out, Linda patted her hand. "You're not intruding. It's just that Adam's a little hard to handle sometimes."

"I understand completely," Jamie said. "At the same time, you certainly don't need to entertain me when he has so much going on right now."

"Oh, he's always been like that. It's just been a bit more pronounced since he went away. Please don't let it affect your relationship with Andrew. He thinks so highly of you."

"Of course not," she stuttered. However, honestly she was not sure just then. Arlene and Linda seemed to have their hands full, and while she wanted to know more about this family she was associating with, now was definitely not the time to ask.

Silence had fallen in the dining room, a tentative silence. Jamie knew it would just be a matter of time before someone came out to check on her and Linda. She gathered up her bag and keys.

Linda smiled in understanding. "I'll let them know you said goodbye."

Jamie reached over and hugged the older woman. "Thank you for a marvelous dinner. I'm going home with a very full belly."

"It was my pleasure," Linda replied, beaming.

Slipping out the slider, Jamie made a quiet exit back to her car. Though she felt a twinge of guilt, interrupting a family argument did not seem appropriate either. By the time she pulled in her garage, she felt somewhat justified in leaving quietly. She was still stung that Adam would accuse her of something so terrible, but she tried to put it out of her mind. It should not matter what other people thought of her, but in a way it did. As she stripped out of her work clothes and turned on her shower, she wondered if Kit's family thought the same. The idea was not only shocking but sad as well. The killer of their loved one was still out there, and it was not the gentle and honorable man she had come to care for. At least the police had realized that and reopened the case to find him. She hoped they did soon.

The shower felt heavenly after the stressful evening, and she relaxed under the stream for a while before going about her normal nightly routine. The doorbell rang just as she finished leisurely towel-drying her hair. Frowning, she lowered the towel and cocked her head to listen, wondering who would be ringing her bell at that time of night.

It was not her imagination. Sure enough, the bell rang again, this time twice in a row. Setting aside her towel, Jamie tightened the knot of her bathrobe and padded to the front door. She was glad that she had left the outside light on, for when she peeked through the peephole, the light illuminated George staring anxiously at the closed and locked screen door.

With a resigned sigh, she unlocked the door and pulled it open to greet the man she had gently let down a month ago. "What's wrong, George? Is everything okay?"

He appeared out of breath and frazzled, something that was out of the ordinary for him. "I'm in a bit of a bind. I have to make brownies for Maggie's class tomorrow, and I've run out of eggs. Do you have any that I can take?"

Despite her stressful evening, Jamie laughed. "Yes, of course. Come on in."

"I've only got a minute. I have Maggie and Paul stirring over there by themselves, and it's past their bedtime already."

Jamie was aware of her lack of dress, and George's appreciative gaze as she led him to the kitchen. She wished she had put on something more conservative than her thigh-high red robe, but it was too late now, and he seemed in too much of a rush for her to worry about it.

Opening the refrigerator door, she reached inside and pulled free her egg carton. "Would you like to take the whole thing?"

"No, no. I can just carry a few back."

"How many batches are you making?"

"There are thirty kids in the class, so I was making two boxes. You think that's enough?"

"I'm sure it's fine," she said, biting back her grin. "So four or six?"

"I'll take whatever I can carry."

"Are you sure you don't want to just take them all? It's not a bother, really."

"Nope, I can do it."

Jamie frowned skeptically, but George held open his hands. He had large palms and long fingers, so when she placed the eggs within his palm his fingers closed over them securely. She placed six in his two hands before returning the remainder to the fridge.

"Thanks, Jamie." He smiled crookedly at her. He was still slightly out of breath, but his eyes were warm. "So how are you doing?"

Gritting her teeth, Jamie opted for a quick response. No sense in giving him false hope. "I'm okay. How about you?"

"I've been wondering about you. We haven't seen much of each other in a while."

Her thoughts immediately turned to Andrew, and she smiled wistfully. "It's been pretty busy."

"It's okay. Look, I'd better get back. The kids are alone." Nodding his head, he backed away from her without turning. Unfortunately, he bumped into the counter and stumbled.

"Oh no! George, wait!"

It was too late. Knocked off balance, his hands closed reflexively. She heard eggs crack and called out in alarm. It must have been her startled cry drifting out the open front door, for the next thing she knew her screen door was being slammed open with a loud crash. When they turned in surprise, like a ghost, Andrew appeared and threw himself at George. The remaining eggs went flying as George was slammed roughly against the counter, Andrew's hands pinning him in a tight grip, and his face again white with rage.

Too stunned to move, Jamie just blinked. What the hell?

### Chapter 14

The startled cry was all Andrew heard.

A surge of protectiveness like nothing he had ever experienced before raced through him and forced him to act. Not even during his time overseas did he feel the rush of emotion with such urgency. He reacted before he knew what he was doing, furiously charging the stocky man standing far too close to Jamie. As he pinned the intruder up against the counter, he noticed Jamie's state of undress and wet hair and wondered who the man was that was causing her to call out in distress, and what the hell he was doing in her house at this hour. He was livid, and his grip was unforgivingly tight on the frightened man before him. The urge to kill was strong, and his fingers tightened until the man's mouth worked like a fish out of water.

This new stranger struggled briefly as Jamie reached for his arm, her voice filled with shock and dismay. "Andrew! What on earth are you doing? Let him go."

Still not ready to release his grip, Andrew watched the man's eyes flash with fear. He had plenty of experience in restraining others, and this man's weak struggles barely fazed him. Ignoring the man's panicky stare, Andrew turned to Jamie. "Are you okay?"

"Of course I am. Let George go, please."

Though he was reluctant to, he slowly released his grasp. Breathing heavy and blood pumping rapidly through his veins, he met George's stare with fury emanating from his eyes.

"You know him?" George asked in a strangled voice.

Jamie continued to hold Andrew's arm, and he was surprised that she had no fear of his anger at all. "Andrew, this is my neighbor, George."

"I heard you scream," he said. His accusing glare caused the intruder to glance at his hands. They were coated with the remnants of raw egg.

George exhaled heavily. "Eggs."

Jamie turned to George. Her voice was clear, but her eyes were wide with horror. "I'm sorry, George. Here." She returned to the fridge and pulled out the carton. "Take them all. Get back to the kids. I'll call you tomorrow."

Andrew could tell that George not pleased, but he nodded his head anyway. Before he turned to go, he stared at Andrew again, whose fists were clenched tightly to keep from snapping the other man's neck. Jealousy was a new emotion for him, and he was surprised at the intensity with which it hit.

"The mess?"

"I got it. I'll clean it," she replied hastily.

George was not convinced. "Are you okay?"

Conjuring a brilliant smile, she nodded her head and led him out of the kitchen and back toward the open screen door. "Of course. This is all just a misunderstanding. Really – now go."

Andrew glanced down at the floor and saw the cracked eggs. Shells and sticky yolk formed a mess on the pristine tile floor. In Jamie's absence, Andrew reached for the paper towels on the counter and began scooping it up. It was only a matter of moments before he had cleaned the majority, so he opened her lower cabinets to see if he could finish the job. He found some cleaning supplies under her sink and was wiping the last of the mess when he heard first the screen then the front door close and lock. In another moment, Jamie returned to the kitchen, a fierce frown on her face and her hands balled into fists on her hips. He had never seen her other than happy, but when he glanced up and caught her angry scowl, he realized that he had set her off good.

Giving one last wipe to the now clean floor, he regained his feet slowly. Despite his best intentions, his gaze rose even slower to meet hers, starting with her shapely legs exposed up to mid-thigh then on up to the deep V that revealed the creamy white skin of her neck and chest. His mouth went dry at the sight of the curve of her cleavage, and he was immediately reminded of that day he saw her emerge from the pool like some sort of goddess. The sight of her in that fuchsia bikini had haunted him for many nights, and though his dreams had her staring up at him with desire at this moment she was staring up at him with unconcealed fury. However, he was able to tell that the high color on her cheeks indicated that his appreciative stare had not gone completely unnoticed.

"What was that all about?"

"I heard you scream. The door was open. I thought you were in trouble," he said.

She continued to glare at him, and he would have felt amusement that she had no fear of him, even though he outweighed her by close to a hundred pounds, stood taller than her, and could snap a man's neck without blinking an eye... He would have if he was not so humiliated by his uncustomary reaction.

"He's my neighbor, Andrew," she said tightly.

"I didn't know that."

"So you thought someone had broken in?"

"I didn't know what to think. Like I said, I heard you scream and just reacted."

She shook her head, but the tension in her shoulders eased away, and her voice softened its cold edge. "What are you doing here anyway?"

As quickly as the protectiveness had filled him, he felt it ebb away too, leaving him feeling both guilty and slightly embarrassed. He was confused where Jamie was concerned. Feelings he could barely identify were making him act out of his carefully controlled character, and he felt helpless to stop them. But how did he explain that to her?

"You left so abruptly this evening. I wanted to check and make sure you were okay because Adam was... well... Linda told me you overheard."

He could see that she was just as confused by his response. No matter how angry she wanted to be, the tension in her face was easing by his honest answers. "Why didn't you just call? Isn't it a bit late to be out?"

"My phone's broken, remember?"

Frustration was evident on her clear face, and her hands came up to massage her temples. She looked down at the floor and closed her eyes. "I'm so confused, Andrew. I don't know what's going on."

The low and forlorn tone of her voice tugged at his heart strings. He wanted to reach out and smooth the worry lines on her forehead but remained still and unsure before her. The fear that this evening had been the death knell for their relationship, that he had finally ruined their friendship beyond repair, rose in intensity. Disappointment and self-loathing filled his words. The single person that he respected the most was looking at him as though he was a stranger, and it pained him that the night had ended so poorly.

"I am sorry, Jamie... You're right, I shouldn't have come." With a hesitant hand, he gave in to his previous urge and smoothed the furrows in her brow. "I'm sorry I embarrassed you."

A heavy silence fell in the kitchen doorway, with Andrew standing tall but uncertain over her. She was just a breadth away, looking small and defeated in her robe and damp hair. Then slowly she took a deep breath. He watched her chest rise toward him and the material tighten against her breasts. Finally, her eyelids fluttered, and she tipped her head to stare up at him once more. Her brown eyes were wide, though her natural warmth had been replaced with wary concern. "I don't know what to say – or do, for that matter."

Allowing his hand to fall back to his side, he nodded his head. "I understand. Maybe I should go, and we can start over again in the morning?"

The hopeful tone of his voice was obvious even to his own ringing ears, but rather than weaken his case it seemed to strengthen it. Nodding her head slowly, she took a step back and gazed at the front door. "That's probably a good idea. It's been a crazy day for both of us."

Though disappointed to leave without having the chance to speak with her, Andrew accepted the decision. At least she was not telling him to leave for good. Somehow, Jamie had managed to integrate herself so deeply into his thoughts that the idea of ruining things between them terrified him more than his time in prison had.

Without another word, he strode back the way he came, this time without the violent urgency he had entered with. Aware that Jamie was following him, he stepped aside as he reached the front door. She reached past him to place her hand on the lock, but she hesitated to unlock it. "You really thought that George was hurting me?"

The question came from out of nowhere, and the incredulity in her tone once again brought color to his cheeks. "I heard you call out. I was going to help."

Jamie's lips suddenly twisted. "You certainly helped all right. I don't think he'll ever come back over here now."

"I really am sorry."

"I suppose I should be thanking you for having my back rather than kicking you out for the evening, but I just don't know what else to do right now."

He reached out and placed his hand over hers where it hovered on the lock. His voice was rough when he spoke. "It's okay. I understand. A lot happened today... It's been a long time since I've felt anything at all, and now suddenly all these emotions are coming back... It's been hard to feel again."

Her eyes widened as he spoke, and her gaze searched his earnestly as though looking for any sign of deception. Of all the things he could have said, he concluded that he had done the right thing at that moment in time. Her hand flipped over the lock to cup his palm, and she drew it slowly to the smooth skin of the gaping robe. One finger traced his knuckles, now red from the blow he had launched at his brother for insulting her. Mesmerized, he watched as she pressed his rough palm against her soft skin. She was as warm and silky smooth as he had expected, and beneath his frozen hand, her heart was racing. His own heart leapt in excitement.

She held his hand trapped, and his fingers itched to spread away from her sternum toward the soft curve of her breasts so tantalizingly close. But he remained controlled. At the moment, their situation was too tenuous to push.

"I just don't know what to do right now," she murmured.

"So you've said," he replied.

"But you understand?"

He nodded and his pinky finger twitched, grazing the top of her breast. His instinctive movement caused her heart to leap against his palm, and he struggled to keep himself in check. "I'm afraid that my past and my faults are too much for you to take. That's the last thing I want."

Still holding his hand to her heart, her free hand reached up and cupped his cheek. A small smile teased her lips, and the tip of her tongue snaked out to moisten them nervously. It was torture for him to watch her innocently seductive movements, and he began his rhythmic breathing as quietly as he could.

"How could you think you would scare me off, Andrew? I'm sorry, but that's not possible." She spoke with so much conviction and confidence that he could not help himself. A slow smile appeared, and her face lit up immediately.

"You're smiling," she exclaimed.

Maintaining the firm pressure against his cheek, she reached out with her thumb and traced the curve of his lips. Her touch was gentle and insistent at the same time.

"I haven't smiled in so long I thought I forgot how, but then you came along," he said softly.

Sympathy clouded her eyes. "I don't blame you for not smiling, and I don't blame you for denying your emotions."

"It doesn't help now. Too many things have happened too quickly."

"I understand, and I'm scared too."

She finished speaking with a single-minded nod and suddenly closed the gap between them, coming up on tiptoe and releasing her grip on his hand so she could clasp his cheeks and draw his head down. He did not resist; in fact, at that point he did not think he could refuse her anything. Lips parting willingly, his eyes fluttered closed just as she kissed him softly. Jamie held him in place, preferring to set the pace of the kiss on her own, and she took a step closer in a move that trapped his hand between them and brought her body against his. He was very much aware that only a skimpy robe stood between him and her silken skin, and the knowledge made every nerve in his body throb with excitement. The struggle within him was increasing with every light kiss, and it was costing him tremendously to remain perfectly still while she held him in her control.

Satisfied with her light kisses, Jamie suddenly grew bolder. Her flirty light kisses suddenly grew more demanding, becoming open-mouthed and urgent. With eyes squeezed shut in denial of his rising urges, he allowed her to continue toying with him until she finally let out a soft murmur of desire. Though pulling away was the hardest thing he had ever done, he raised his head and took a deep, shuddering breath.

"I should go before we do something you regret later."

Her eyes appeared dazed and unfocused when she looked at him. It took her a moment to comprehend what he said, but when she did, she shook her head and pressed closer. "Andrew, I'd never regret being with you."

His body hummed in response to her words, and all restraint disappeared in a rush of pure emotion. With a ragged groan, he lowered his lips to hers and showed her the extent of his longing. All the years of loneliness, loss, depression and hopelessness finally seemed to be a memory now. In his arms now was his future. Jamie was soft, willing, and even more beautiful than in his dreams. He clumsily drew her robe away from her silken skin and threw it to the ground before wrapping his arms tightly around her as his heart surged with joy. She wanted _him_. It took all of his strength and self-restraint to not throw her down to the floor then.

However, Jamie proved as urgent as he, and she roughly pulled his clothing off and drew him down to the soft carpet instead. She touched him with reverence and joy, tracing the outline of his tattoos with light fingers and smoothing the concern out of his muscles with her confident grip. It had been so long since he held a woman, and he grasped at every sensation holding her close brought him when he finally fulfilled his dream of being one with Jamie. Though desperate to do things right, all too soon he lost himself in the warmth of a woman after years of isolation and solitude.

### ***

Jamie lay awake in the darkness, listening to the soft hum of the ceiling fan above her bed. It was as rhythmic as the sound of Andrew's breathing, which had finally eased into the more regular pattern of sleep. Though not normal for her to stay awake so late on a work night, her mind was buzzing and made sleep impossible to achieve.

Though having been married and no stranger to intimate relations, the experience she had shared with Andrew had left her even more confused than before. Never had she felt so admired or treasured, and Andrew's desire for her had almost frightened her with his intensity. Though she was certain that she was the only female of any consequence in his life, and though she understood how badly his baser instincts needed to be fulfilled, it was a carnal first meeting for both of them and something new and exciting for her. Afterwards, he had carried her to bed and covered her with a sheet, softly offering to let himself out, but she had surprised them both by drawing him back down to her. Again, he had taken her, this time with less urgency, a more languid lovemaking where they began to learn each other's likes and dislikes. Having experienced a magical moment incomparable to anything she had ever had before, now she had no idea where they were going or how things had changed between them. She wondered what morning would reveal.

As she lay in worry, Andrew made his first movements. It started as a twitch, a slight tightening of the arm around her shoulders that pressed her up against his side. The grip did not concern her initially, but when his legs began to jerk and his fists started to clench she became more alert to the fact that this was not just a dream.

A low moan, like an animal crying out in pain, rose in the back of his throat. She propped herself up on one elbow and reached up to stroke his cheek. "It's okay, Andrew, I'm here," she whispered into the dark.

His arm tightened, but he did not wake. The clenching of his muscles continued, so she moved her hand down his cheek and neck to his chest and then back up again. After a while, the stroking eased him somewhat, and she felt him slowly relax again.

A moment later, his hand reached up and caught hers. The movement was fast, and his grip was firm. Briefly, Jamie hesitated in fear, but when she heard his voice it was thick with the remnants of sleep. "Everything okay?"

"You were dreaming," she replied.

"I was?"

She felt his reluctant stiffening and realized that this was just one more attempt to deny what he called his faults. In an effort to promote his trust, she attempted to make light of it. "You were. You told me that you had the best night of your life."

His stomach clenched in what appeared to be a snort. "I don't think that's what I said, but it sure is what I've been thinking."

Placing a kiss on the warm skin of his chest where her cheek had rested, she smiled. "Me, too."

His arm tightened in response. "Good. That gives me hope for another go."

Though he spoke matter-of-factly, she sensed his unspoken fear of her denial. Wiggling her hand out from under his, she trailed a finger down his chest and over his taut abdomen. His muscles clenched under her exploring finger, so she made small tantalizing circles.

"I was counting on it."

"Are you free after work tomorrow?"

She chuckled. "Dinner will be ready at six."

Growing more alert under her careful ministrations, Andrew rolled on his side to face her. "I'll be here."

Her playful tone grew serious as she stared up at him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Deftly turning the tables, he lowered his head and kissed her while his hand slid from her waist to her hip. He pulled her up against him, showing her exactly what he wanted at that moment.

"Maybe another time."

Much later, Jamie finally drifted off to sleep, wondering what demons haunted his dreams. As Linda had told her just that night, Andrew and Adam both suffered from sleep problems due to their time in combat. What had he seen and experienced in his short life that made something as simple as sleep so hard to achieve? The things that he had lived through could only be described as a nightmare to her, and she wondered if she alone was strong enough to help him heal. Was this a problem that could be overcome? If so, could she help him through it? Jamie was afraid of losing the man she had come to care for and respect so much. She wanted to help him in any way she could, but was that possible? More importantly, would he allow her to try?

### Chapter 15

The bedroom was shadowed in darkness when Andrew slipped stealthily from the bed with only the grey light of dawn creeping through the cracks in the blinds to guide him. Jamie's soft, regular breathing hitched as he left her side, but she remained asleep while he gathered up his clothing and dressed. When he returned to the bedroom, she was still laying peacefully on her side, her dark lashes resting against her cheeks. Feeling content for the first time in years, he watched her for a moment, almost willing her to wake up so he could hear her voice. Though the room was still dark, he could make out the hand that had recently rested on his chest now cupped under her cheek. She appeared so tranquil that he felt guilty for wanting to disturb her and slipped out as quietly as possible instead.

Reluctant to be seen leaving Jamie's house by her brother, he knew he could not linger any longer. He was still feeling the languid aftereffects of enjoying the night with a beautiful woman, and his footsteps were slow and heavy as he left through the garage. He drove away with the same lazy slowness, spending his day in a fog of memories and elation that he would see her again that evening.

He stopped at his grandmother's house after work to shower and change, a move that was not lost to his grandmother's astute eyes. When he reappeared with fresh clothing and freshly shaven, Grandma wheeled into the kitchen with pursed lips and dancing eyes.

"You're showered, dressed up and smell like cologne... I take it you have plans this evening?"

Andrew gave her a sidelong glance. "I do."

"Need a little distance from your brother?"

"I'll talk to him tomorrow," he said stiffly.

She shook her head. "He drove down to Tucson to visit a friend for the rest of the week. He left this morning. I guess your disagreement last night bothered him, too."

"All right then. Maybe this weekend."

Grandma wheeled up close to him and reached for his hand. "I'm very worried about Adam. He's even worse now than after his first deployment. You have to do something."

Andrew knew that his grandmother spoke the truth. Adam was walking on a thin line from about which he was ready to fall. He had seen it before, and it did not bode well. Adam had turned into a man who did not look at the future. He no longer cared. Yet Andrew also knew that there was nothing he could say or do to influence Adam until his younger brother got over his anger toward him. After their interactions over the last two days, Andrew doubted that was going to happen anytime soon. Adam resented Andrew with an intensity that seemed to have gotten worse over the years. Even though Andrew's record was now clear and had no bearing on Adam's military career, the way Adam continued to lash out at him bespoke of deep-seated rage that had not yet been spent. Andrew felt that anything he said would just be ignored.

"I don't know what to do, Grandma," he said regretfully. "I think he needs to go to medical and have them do a complete evaluation."

"You know he won't. After all, you didn't, so why would he?"

All his life, Andrew had taken care of Adam. He had always done his best by his brother, but in this situation he felt as though he could only fail him. What Grandma did not realize was that Adam would see his offers to help as insulting. Nevertheless, he could not deny his grandmother anything. She had done so much for them over the years and even more for him during his difficulties. He would not let her know how ineffective he felt.

"I'll talk to him this weekend and see if I can get it out of him."

"I knew you would... So you're off to see Jamie?"

He nodded. "She's invited me over for dinner."

"I noticed that you didn't make it back last night. Things are growing serious?"

Andrew colored slightly under his grandmother's careful scrutiny. Was there nothing that escaped that woman? However, he was not yet sure what was happening between them and had no intentions of telling her that. The reluctance he felt to speak about it must have been clear on his face, for Grandma nodded in understanding.

"You're not so different from Adam, except that you have the help of a really fine girl behind you. I'm glad to see you making the smart choice and pursuing her. She's a smart and lovely young woman who has done wonders for you."

"She's quite a lady."

"Don't think any of us agree with your brother. She's not a floozy, I can tell."

He inclined his head in agreement, even as his fists clenched with lingering anger. Coming to blows the evening before with his brother was not the way he had wanted his first dinner with Jamie to go. It had nearly destroyed him when he found that she had left. He was out the door after her before he even considered the repercussions, which thankfully had worked out in his favor. He still tingled where she had touched him, and like an addictive drug he wanted more of her. "Jamie's many different things; a floozy is not one of them."

No, that she was not; a vixen, an angel, a magnificent friend and lover, yes, those things she was.

"He's lashing out because he's hurting. You did the same thing when you first received your discharge, Andrew." When he opened his mouth to deny her words, she held up a hand to stop him. "I know it wasn't quite as bad for you. You still hold a lot inside. He's not as strong and therefore lashes out."

Nodding slowly, Andrew conceded. "I understand."

"Good. I know you can handle him." She smiled again, her weathered face crinkling. "Will we see you later tonight, or should we just go to bed?"

"Probably."

Grandma pursed her lips again as though deep in thought. "You're young and have been alone for too long. If I were you, I'd do everything I could _not_ to come home tonight."

The conversation was growing far too personal for him. "I'll feed the horses before I go," he said abruptly.

"Thank you. Now don't forget to show up with something nice for her," Grandma said with a chuckle.

"Huh?"

"A girl always appreciates a token of affection following a first encounter. Don't you remember these things?"

"Apparently not." After all, he was overseas and locked away for years of his adult life. "I guess I'm a little rusty."

"All men have their faults," she said airily. "Flowers may be a little too predictable at this point and very unimaginative. Jewelry, on the other hand, is too presumptuous."

His lips twisted dryly. "What else is there?"

"You know her. Go find something that you know she'll like and save the flowers for a less tempestuous time."

"That's not very helpful, but I'll try."

"If you want her, you'll do more than try."

Feeling more like a fool than a grown man, Andrew turned away hastily. "Good night, Grandma."

She chuckled. "Have a nice evening."

He went out the back, his face burning with embarrassment. Though he was a grown man, his grandmother's sauciness was a bit much for his tender feelings at the moment. Things were happening very fast. After years of doing nothing but think, all this action was new to him. Still, he had to admit that his grandmother made sense. He did want to impress her, and he wanted to show his affection for her as well. Since the words escaped him, his grandmother was right in suggesting that he show her instead.

By the time he was done feeding the horses, he had come up with a tentative idea. Instead of driving straight to Jamie's, he made a stop at the shopping mall. Warily, he took in the shoppers as he wandered down the corridor feeling uneasy and exposed. Arms laden with bags from various stores, they went about their business as though they had no care in the world except when they would be home for dinner.

It was still a sight that caused Andrew some anxiety. Wondering if any of these people knew who he was, how he had spent the last ten years of his life first in an effort to protect them and then as a labeled criminal, made his mission uncomfortable. At times, his anger would return, and he would have to fight the urge to pull someone aside and shout at them that he had devoted a good portion of his adult life to supporting the very same democracy they were enjoying at the moment. However, he pushed the old resentment aside and headed straight toward his destination. After all, tonight he was going to see Jamie.

Finding the store was the easy part; deciding where to start was another matter altogether. Not a small man, he stood like a bull in a china shop just inside the entry staring at the sights, smells, and options before him with the urge to flee. What he had assumed would be an easy task was suddenly a vast undertaking that he was not sure he had the time for.

Luckily, one of the young salesgirls saw his hesitation and approached him with a broad smile and no glimmer of recognition or fear. In the weeks that had passed since his release, he had allowed his dark hair to grow in more and no longer appeared as he had during his trial. There was no flicker of recognition in the girl's face when she greeted him, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"May I help you?"

He nodded tersely. "Please. I need a nice gift."

Her smile never wavered. That made him very happy. "Sure. Is this for your wife?"

"Not my wife, no. My, uh, girlfriend." Though he had never before considered her as such, speaking the words aloud seemed natural to him...

"Well, what scent is her favorite?"

...Until that moment.

"I'm not sure, actually," he stammered, feeling foolish again.

She chuckled, remaining as unsurprised and unfazed as before. "I understand completely... Can you describe it? Is it floral, fruity or musky?"

His mouth fell open as the girl spoke. "What's the difference?"

With continued enthusiasm, she turned on her heel. "Come with me, and I'll show you a few of our most popular scents. You should be able to tell which type is more her style."

Like a frightened child, he fell in step behind her and obediently sniffed each sample she held out to him. Having only been close enough to catch Jamie's scent on a few occasions, he finally settled on the one that he preferred the most. She beamed with pleasure.

"That's my favorite, too. I love this particular scent because it has a touch of wildflowers and lemon. So you have the best of both."

"Great," he said. Suddenly, he was not so dumb after all.

"Now are you looking for daily shower use or something more relaxing?"

Stumped again, he stared down at her wordlessly.

"Is this a special occasion?"

"Sort of," he said. Another reminder of the previous night advised him loud and clear that it was definitely a special occasion for him.

"Romantic gift?"

He cleared his throat. "Uh, ya, that would be good."

"Okay, how about this basket? It's a spa gift set, with bubble bath, lotion, a candle and a nice body mist."

He stared at her offering, wondering if Jamie would like it. Hell, he had no idea. Turning to his helpful salesgirl, he pinned her with a steady stare. "If you were her, would you like that?"

A high-pitched laugh rang throughout the store, and Andrew shifted uncomfortably. "You're so cute," she giggled. "Yes, I would like that very much. It's a thoughtful gift."

"Then I'll take it," he said.

"Follow me... I think we may even have some tissue back there so we can wrap it all up nice for you."

He followed her to the back of the store and waited while she pulled free some tissue and arranged it around the basket in the paper bag. She then rang him up, all the while telling him what a nice gift he was buying. Andrew nodded distractedly, more cognizant of the passing time than of the wrapping job the helpful salesgirl completed for him. The last of the small talk complete, Andrew gathered up his package and thanked her for her help. As he strode back out the way he came, weaving through flower and fruit scents wrapped in colorful packaging, he realized that he was feeling almost like a full human again.

### ***

Jamie pulled open the door with a brow raised in question. "You're late," she accused lightly.

Reaching forward to unlock her security door, she took in the tall sight of her guest. He was standing on the other side of the screen dressed in tan slacks and a black shirt. His dark hair appeared hand combed, and his light, deep set eyes gleamed in the growing darkness. His cheeks were smooth from a recent shave, and the woodsy smell of fragrant cologne brought a smile to her lips as she swung the heavy screen door open to allow him entry.

Closing and locking the door behind him, Jamie placed her hands on her hips and spun around with a playful scowl. "Well..?"

He held out his hand in answer. It was the first time she noticed the bright, multi-colored bag with pink and white tissue peeking from the top. "I made a quick stop."

"You bought me a present?"

He inclined his head. "I did. Here."

Grasping at the urgently thrust package, she reached out and caught the bag before he dropped it on the floor in his haste to be rid of it. Laughing, she grabbed it with both hands. "You're forgiven for almost ruining my nicely planned out meal. I hope you're hungry, because it's ready."

"Famished."

"Good. Come on in."

She moved away from the doorway and led him through the great room to the small dining room. She had lit candles, and they flickered as they passed. When he took his seat, she noticed that his nostrils flared.

"Something smells good."

She beamed. "Do you like Italian food?"

"Love it."

"Good. Then you'll like my meal. It's one of Isabel's recipes." She smiled at him over her shoulder and set the bag on the counter so that she could take a peek inside. "I think this smells pretty good, too."

Reaching in, she pulled the basket out and read the labels with pure pleasure. With her penchant for taking long hot baths in her whirlpool tub, he could not have picked a better gift.

"Oh, Andrew," she breathed.

Glancing over her shoulder at him again, she realized that he appeared very nervous. Her smile grew in response. Placing the basket down on the counter, she bent and threw her arms around his neck to hug him tight.

"I can't believe you bought me a present, let alone such a perfect gift. Thank you very much."

His arms came around her slowly, lightly touching her waist. "I... you're welcome."

Laughing at his obvious discomfort, Jamie released him and carried her gift with her, setting it on the table as she took her seat. "I want to open this and smell it. Would you open the wine?"

Without a word, he came to his feet and reached for the bottle, deftly popping the cork. He filled her glass but sat back down without pouring any for himself.

"You're not having any?"

"May I just have some water?"

Darn, Jamie thought. She had made a specific trip to the wine store to locate her favorite pinot grigio to go with dinner. The fruity wine went very well with the heavy chicken saltimbocca, and she felt it was a great addition to the meal itself. In fact, it was a part of the meal.

Hiding her disappointment, she went back to the kitchen and reached into the cabinet for a glass. As she went she chided herself for not remembering that he did not drink. "Ice?"

"No ice, thanks."

As she handed the glass to him, she smiled apologetically. "I forgot that you never drink."

"I might just have a sip or two with your meal. It looks fantastic."

"Then let's eat."

"Finish opening your present first."

He stared pointedly at the basket until she reached for it. Pulling the bubble bath free first, she lifted it to her nose and inhaled deeply. "Wow, Andrew, this is very nice."

"You think so?"

Though for the most part he was an inscrutable man, she detected a hopeful tone to his words. She smiled again, touched by his thoughtfulness and eagerness to please. "It's wonderful. Not too strong, nice and smooth... I don't like the lotions that you put on and people can smell you from twenty feet away."

He nodded. "I don't either."

"This smells great. Thank you. I'll try it with my next bath."

Setting the lotion aside, she returned her attention to the meal before them and began to serve. As she worked, she wondered how long it had been since she had prepared a cozy meal for two. In the final days of her marriage to Clay, she had been home alone in the evenings most of the time. On the rare occasions when he did come home, more often than not she was already in bed. It had been almost too long to remember, she thought with a touch of nostalgia. However, things were changing now. She placed the plate in front of him, meeting his appreciative stare.

"Wow, Jamie, this looks amazing."

Smiling, she served herself and then placed her napkin on her lap. "It's chicken saltimbocca with steamed broccoli and angel hair. I hope you like it."

Mimicking her actions, he spread his burgundy napkin on his lap and eagerly picked up his knife and fork. She laughed when he took his first bite and let out an appreciative groan. It was heartening to see him dig into her preparations with such gusto. Silently focusing on the meal before him, he ate enthusiastically for a moment before finally raising his head to meet her amused gaze. "This is delicious. I'm impressed."

Though beaming with pleasure, she ducked her head modestly. "With Linda's cooking every night, how can I compare?"

His eyes were completely serious when he met her gaze. "After the food I've been forced to eat over the years, I relish every good meal."

The somber reminder of his past caused her to shift slightly in her chair. Reaching for her wine glass, she lifted it in his direction. "May you have many more delicious meals in the future to make up for the past."

He raised his glass of water in response. "I'll drink to that."

Taking the opportunity that presented itself, Jamie lowered her wine glass and leaned forward. "Is that why you never drink alcohol?"

His head tipped to the side as he contemplated her question. For a moment, she feared he would not answer her, but he surprised her. "I used to drink," he said. "After my accident, I actually drank a lot. After a while, I figured it wasn't worth it. I'd wake up hungover and even more miserable than I was before."

"So you quit altogether?"

Andrew shrugged. "Alcohol isn't a good way to deal with problems."

Though she understood his meaning and fully agreed, she could not help but press him a little. "Neither is holding it all in instead of talking about it."

"True enough..." Leaning forward, he refilled his plate much to Jamie's pleasure. Then he pinned her with his steady stare. "So tell me what happened to your Mr. Right."

Caught completely off guard, it took Jamie a few seconds to realize what he was talking about. Suddenly his subtle change of topic hit her, and she chuckled. "Touché."

The corners of his mouth deepened in his now familiar semblance of a smile. "You said it first."

Having fully sated herself, Jamie topped off her glass of wine and then sat back in her chair. Tossing her napkin over her plate, she pursed her lips and stared at him. "All right, you asked; I'll answer."

While he finished his second helping, she sipped at her wine and filled him in on her last five years. "Clay and I left the day after you followed me home. Do you remember that night?"

His lips twisted. "How could I ever forget?"

"We settled up in Vegas. He was chasing his career as a corporate lawyer, and I had a good job with clients of over a hundred grand in assets. Within the first six months, we were married and bought a house just outside the city. Things were good."

"But?"

Swirling the wine in her glass thoughtfully, Jamie pondered what had happened. It seemed to have changed overnight, but in hindsight she could see that there had been warnings long before the drugs became involved. "I think we were both too caught up in getting our careers up and running in a new city. We were young and ambitious, and we lost our relationship after the initial rush... Then he got in with a fast crowd."

The candles cast his face in the shadows, but she could see his eyes widen and narrow as necessary during her story. When she paused a second time, his brow rose in question.

"He started partying in the evenings. It started with a late night here or there for a client dinner, but it wasn't long before he was out all night. When he got home, he'd be crashing hard. He'd be sad and mopey. It took me a few months to realize why that was."

"Drugs?"

She nodded. "Ecstasy and cocaine."

A low whistle escaped his lips. "He wasn't messing around."

"No, he wasn't," she agreed.

"How long did you stay?"

"Too long," she said softly. "I thought it would stop. He made promises at times, but in reality he just got worse. I finally realized that we'd grown too far apart, and after everything he did, I knew I could never love him the way I once did."

"So you left?"

She nodded. "I spoke to him first. He wasn't happy and went into a deep depression. I got scared and stayed a little longer, but I had already filed for divorce. Once that process started, things got really bad. He was acting so crazy that I moved into a hotel room. I stayed there for a few days, going to work like normal, not thinking that Clay was following me. He showed up there high and freaked out a little. I had to call Ian."

Andrew's face had grown dark with repressed anger. "Did he hurt you?"

Jamie shrugged. "Physically, no... emotionally? I'd be lying if I said no, but I'm over it now."

"Are you?"

Though it appeared to be a simple question, Jamie sensed there was some depth behind his mild words. Wondering if he was really trying to ask if she was emotionally available, she considered his inquiry carefully even though she knew the answer even before she spoke. "I haven't spoken to Clay in a year now. He's involved, and from what I've heard he's happy. I wish him no ill will and hope he finds happiness someday."

At that point, she decided it was time for a change in the subject. Discussing her ex-husband was not her idea of a pleasant first dinner. "Did you like your dinner?"

The abrupt change of subject seemed to catch him off guard, but he collected himself rather quickly. "That was one of the most memorable meals I've had in a long time. If I had known what a good cook you were, I would have begged a meal sooner."

"Begged a meal?" She grinned at him.

"Well, you did make me pay last night."

Realizing that he was teasing her, she laughed. "I love it when your sense of humor makes an appearance, Andrew. You need to work on letting it out more."

"I am, believe me," he replied. "I'm trying."

Falling silent, Jamie took a moment to study him intently. The truth was that he _had_ made great strides. Remembering the lifeless and shocked gaze that had held her captive on the day he was released, she realized that he had been changing on a daily basis. A little bit more of his true personality showed with every passing day.

"I see it. I'm glad what happened hasn't changed you permanently."

He shook his head. "Oh, it's changed me plenty. Whether or not I can overcome what's happened is another matter that only time will tell."

Coming to her feet, she began to gather up their dishes. Together they cleared the plates, and Andrew wrapped the leftovers while she rinsed and loaded her dishwasher. It was nice to work together, and she noted quickly how well they did. They never bumped into one another, and Andrew seemed to have no problem finding things in her kitchen. He maneuvered through her drawers like he had been living there for years.

She had just turned on the dishwasher when Andrew returned from the dining room with the two candles in his hands. He placed them on the counter and leaned against it with his arms crossed over his chest.

She hung the dishtowel on the rack and smiled at him. "I know you saw some terrible things, but I'm going to help you forget."

His brow rose, and again the corners of his mouth deepened. "You are, huh? Am I some sort of project?"

Unfazed, she nodded her head. "Absolutely."

"In that case, good," he said with a chuckle. "I'm looking forward to it."

She laughed in return. "Don't you worry, I'll make it well worth your time."

Reaching out, he grasped her wrist and pulled her into his arms. As his head lowered for their first kiss of the evening, she saw him smile. His voice was deep and full of a promise of his own. "All the better."

### Chapter 16

A slight movement under her cheek brought Jamie slowly awake. She had not meant to fall asleep on Andrew's chest, but apparently the previous late night with him had left her more tired than she had thought. When her eyelids fluttered open, she realized that the movie she had put in for them to watch had already finished, and Andrew had tuned it to a channel that was presently showing a group of soldiers in military fatigues bearing guns and heavy packs climbing up the side of a rugged mountain. The clock on her cable box revealed it was shortly past ten.

She raised her head wearily and looked up at him. "I'm sorry I fell asleep."

The arm that had held her close tightened slightly. "It's okay. It was nice to be close for a while."

"But I'm crushing you," she said as she straightened.

"No, you feel good."

Smiling, she turned her attention to the television. "What are you watching?"

Andrew inhaled deeply, his chest rising and lifting her away from him. Before she could escape the confines of his heavy arm, he pulled her tight again. "I was going to be a career military guy, but I guess the higher powers had other ideas for me... We were on a night mission when we were attacked," he said softly.

Jamie tensed immediately but remained silent. She wanted to encourage him to speak, though his voice was so low that the sound of the television almost drowned him out. His chest rose under her cheek again when he took another deep breath. "You know, we never really talked about it while we were there. We tried to keep a good face on and bury everything inside. If morale slipped for any of us, the whole team would be affected. So when bad things happened, we'd talk about it briefly and then move on to the task at hand. It was always about the mission."

Nodding her head briefly to indicate that she was still listening, Jamie held her tongue. This was an important step, and it was a step toward healing.

"Attacks were not uncommon. Though in the beginning we subdued the resistance fairly quickly, a lot of what was reported back was propaganda... at least while I was over there. They would back off for a time to regroup, but then they would come back and try to catch us off guard... They did catch us that night Adam mentioned.

"We were on an open road. Funny that we were, considering most of the time we were high in the mountains. But we had gone down to lower ground, in a valley. There were fields on one side, and a ridge on the other. The moon was just about full, so visibility was good... They were on the ridge waiting for us. We had heard some radio chatter and knew they were setting up, but we didn't know where or when.

"An IED hit the lead vehicle. Even with armor, it was not a pretty sight, and it blocked the road forward. They were coming up from behind. It was a stay and fight situation."

Jamie shuddered, imagining their fear. "So you fought?"

Ignoring her comment, he continued. He was lost in the memory. "We'd been in situations like this before; we knew what to do. Everyone took position while a few of us went to check on the first truck. There were four guys in there."

Though she wanted to ask if any of them made it, she kept quiet.

"I was pulling our translator out of the truck when the convoy pulled up. It was too big a force approaching, and we had to get to more secure ground."

He paused again, his voice growing deeper as he went back to that evening. "They were still laying down cover fire and protecting our rear, but no one really considered what was ahead of us, even though it's the IEDs that usually warn us of an impending ambush... We finished loading up the guys from the first truck and drove off-road to get out of there.

"That wasn't unusual for us either. We always tried to take different routes so they couldn't guess our movements, but this night was a little different. We had to get to a safe position. Sitting exposed was a death warrant, and we all knew it."

Jamie shuddered. She had tensed thinking about the scene he painted, and she wondered how he had managed to keep his cool when they were trapped.

"Everyone was shouting, excited and confused. It was hard to tell who was hurt and who might not make it. All we could smell in the vehicle was burnt flesh. Our translator was burned pretty bad but still breathing when I put him in the truck... That smell will stay with me forever."

A tremor went through him, and Jamie tightened her arm around his midsection. The hard flatness of his belly was tight and tense. She began to stroke him lightly in an effort to relax him, but his mind was miles and years away.

"Most of us didn't know how to deal with everything, Jamie. We all stuffed it down. I don't know how to react anymore. Do I keep denying it? Or do I try to express it? If I talk about it, it brings it all back. If I don't, I'm in denial. Which is worse?"

Jamie raised her head and stared up at Andrew. His pale eyes were glowing with an emotion she had never seen before. Normally so guarded and piercing, his eyes had seemed cold and disengaged, but at the moment they were shining in the semi-darkness. She suspected that the dam was about to bubble over.

"Do what feels best for you... maybe over time it will get easier," she whispered in return.

"We drove across the field. Brad was driving. Everyone was screaming in the back. The ride was bumpy, and the injured guys from the first truck were taking the ride hard. With all the shouting, Brad couldn't tell who was saying what. He was driving too fast, too recklessly. One of the trucks behind us sent us a warning, but I think Brad was too panicked to stop or slow down. When you finally realize that it's real, that the popping sounds are real guns aiming for your head to blow you away, your instincts kick in. It becomes all about survival, and sometimes you react without thinking. All he could think of was getting us out of there to safer ground."

He paused and stared down at her. "We were all pretty tight, a unit of guys who stuck together by an unspoken code. But he was my best friend, Jamie."

Jamie could feel tears rising in her eyes, but she held them back for him. The raw emotion in his voice warned her that what he was about to tell her was very traumatic for him.

"They were yelling at us to slow down and take it easy. No sentries had been through the area, and they weren't sure if it was cleared or not... Brad just ignored them and kept going. The next thing I knew there was another explosion, and we were flying through the air. Everything went black. The truck flipped, and we were all tossed about like paper dolls. I had climbed in the back to help provide cover, so I was thrown, which I guess was a blessing. It was silent for just a few seconds then all hell broke loose. People were screaming, but I couldn't see anything. All I could feel was the pain. It's hard to describe, but when all of your internal organs are aching from the blast, it hurts. I was also hit with shrapnel, but I lived. The others, four of them, didn't.

"I've seen lots of dead people; maybe too many for my liking. I still see bodies of men missing arms, legs, heads, you name it... but nothing sticks in my memory like when they pulled those guys out of the truck."

His voice shook at that point. Jamie sat up slightly and moved her head to his shoulder where she pressed her face against his neck. Wrapping both arms around him, she hugged him tight.

"I think Brad would have been ashamed of himself for losing it had he made it, so it was almost a mercy killing. Those guys – all dead."

His voice broke. Jamie gave him a few moments to regain his composure before asking quietly. "What did you do?"

He cleared his throat while his free hand came up to press against the bridge of his nose. "It's fuzzy. The explosion was so loud and my ears were ringing, but I remember the other guys running up and shouting at me to hold still. Our medic was telling me to stop moving. I guess I was fighting them pretty hard and screaming at them to let me up so I could kick some ass... I don't really remember. Afterwards, they told me that it was a good thing my helmet had stayed on. It had hit me from the eye to my neck, and they were afraid I would bleed out. It looked like hamburger. Well, you've seen part of the scar."

Against her back, she felt his fist clench. "They tried to shoot down the copter that flew us out of there. Air support was finally able to hit them hard back, but not before two other guys were hit...

"Then they told me in the hospital that I was done. I had too many pieces lodged too close to my cervical spine to operate on, so I was no longer fit for duty."

Swallowing hard, she placed several soft kisses against his neck. "You've been through so much."

"No more than all the other guys I was with."

"You've all experienced a lot, Andrew, and those times will stay with you for the rest of your life. There's nothing wrong with feeling grief and anger."

He nodded impatiently. "I've heard all that before. They would tell us to take it out on our enemies, but look at me now. The state became my enemy; the public I served, killed for and almost died for did. My family is fractured. My brother..."

Jamie pressed two fingers against his lips. "Andrew..."

Shaking his head, his hand tightened around her. "I came home half the man I was when I left. When I received my discharge, I had no idea what I was going to do. Even when I went to see Brad's wife and his little daughter it was just different. I was an outsider in the community that had been my home. My girlfriend at the time couldn't handle it. She took off right after I hit stateside.

"I had symptoms that they couldn't diagnose well back then. The doctors were trying to figure out what was wrong with all us guys who came home and couldn't sleep. They were throwing medication at me left and right. At one point, I had five prescriptions... Since they couldn't really tell me what to do and how to cope, I started drinking."

She had wanted to know, but now that it was coming so quickly she was not sure how to react. Sorrow, anger, fear, shock, all of those emotions welled up inside her. Raising her head slowly, Jamie met his steady gaze with as much strength as possible.

"I drank for a while before I realized that self-pity wasn't going to help me get any better. So I decided to quit drinking and come home. Adam finished up his advanced training and was deploying to Iraq. It was hard to put on an enthusiastic face for my little brother, but I tried. I put on my positive face and hid it all from him – I kinda wish I hadn't. Maybe he wouldn't be so torn up right now if he knew what he was feeling was what I'd gone through."

"So you think that he's going through what you went through?"

"Without a doubt."

"Is that why he's so angry at you?"

"I always protected my brother. I failed him this time, and he hates me for it."

That explained a lot about his behavior during their dinner, and Jamie wondered how Andrew could have been so different when she first met him. After all, that first encounter had charmed her. He seemed so different from the man he was describing.

"It was so easy for the courts to use my _problem_ to their benefit when they were accusing me of murder. They announced that I'd snapped after witnessing prolonged combat and stress. It was so easy to believe yet so hard to treat. So I ended up shunned and sent to prison, right after I made the conscious choice to take my health into my own hands."

"That's my fault. I should've been there for you."

"You've said that before," he said. His eyes closed briefly as he shook his head. "Jamie, when I talked to you that night, I thought that I was finally getting my life back. I left feeling a lot happier and more of my normal self than I had since my first deployment. I thought I was becoming me again."

Jamie smiled, but it faded when she realized how quickly that moment was taken away from him.

"The next thing I knew, I was being arrested. Then I was looking at life in prison. At first, I thought it was all a joke, but that didn't last long. I was wearing prison stripes and locked in a tiny cell."

"Was it that terrible?"

He studied her for a moment without speaking then shook his head. "I went in thinking I would just keep to myself, but I learned quickly that it doesn't work that way. It makes you a target. The first few months were hell, and I ended up in the hospital. But I still had so much rage, and I remembered my training well... After I got back to my cell, people decided that I was too much of a loaded cannon to mess with. I chose my ... I guess I can't call them friends... associates, I guess, very carefully. I just preferred to be alone.

"It was hell, Jamie, don't get me wrong. I guess I shouldn't say that it wasn't that terrible, because that isn't true. It was years off my life where all I could do was think: think about war, think about the mess my life was, think and rage that these people had turned against me. I would've preferred going back to Afghanistan than sitting and rotting in that hell hole with people that would just as soon spit in your face than smile at you."

Seeing the horror in her eyes, he stopped speaking. She leaned over and pressed a kiss on his cheek, and then she moved to his chin before finally coming to rest on his scar. She let her lips linger briefly before sitting back. "I understand why you never smile," she said softly. "But I'll make sure you laugh again if it kills me trying."

He reached over and pulled her atop his lap. His hands slipped up her back and over her shoulders until he cupped both her cheeks in his hands. As he drew her face to his, he spoke one last time. "Jamie, you've already saved my life."

He kissed her then as desperately as he had the night before. Despite his urgency, she relaxed against him and kissed him back with all the emotion he had raised inside her with his story. Even though he claimed he was only half the man he used to be, to her he was the strongest, smartest, bravest person she had ever met. He was a man that had gone on when so many others would have given up. In her eyes, he was a man in the truest sense of the word, scars or no. When he slipped his arm under her knees and came to his feet, she also realized that he was the man she was falling in love with.

### ***

Though he had been expecting it and waiting for it to happen, Andrew watched Ford approach with a slight feeling of trepidation. After an early return to his grandmother's house midweek, Adam had rented a car and driven off to San Diego to visit with more friends. With his brother out of town, Jamie had insisted that he continue to stay at her house, and two of those days during the week, he had not snuck out at dawn, preferring to lie next to Jamie's soft body for as long as possible. In addition, his truck had been parked in her driveway for most of the weekend, so it was just a matter of time before one or all of her brothers descended upon him. He actually felt some relief that Tuesday afternoon that it was just her oldest brother – and his boss – who appeared.

His work had been exemplary, and Ford had on more than one occasion made a comment that he hoped Andrew would not leave him for something better due to the fact that he was "damn smart." However, at that moment Ford did not look as though he was coming to praise him.

His voice matched his serious demeanor. "Hey, Andrew."

Andrew straightened from the beam he was inspecting and came to his feet slowly. Holding out his hand, he was relieved when Ford accepted it. "Ford."

"Hanging out a little late, aren't you?"

He shrugged. "Just wanted to check a few things before I left."

"Things are coming along great out here," Ford said as he took in the progress with a critical eye. "You guys are ahead of schedule."

Andrew nodded in agreement. "It's been going very smoothly. No big issues have popped up yet."

"Let's hope they don't."

Andrew began gathering up his tools, aware that Ford was watching him closely. He waited for the ball to drop, but Ford seemed content to merely study him and size him up.

As Andrew moved toward the door, Ford followed behind all the way to his truck. "Do you have plans this evening? Have time for a quick drink?"

Andrew glanced at him over his shoulder. "I don't drink."

"I'll drink, and you can watch."

Knowing that this was Ford's way of telling him he would not accept a negative answer, Andrew conceded. "All right. Where did you have in mind?"

"I know a small place not too far from here. Just follow me."

Still new to text messaging, Andrew fumbled his way through a brief message to Jamie, advising her that he would be home late while Ford returned to his truck. Then they were pulling away from the home site and making their way out of the custom development toward the main streets of north Mesa. While he drove, he found his thoughts circling to how he would manage getting out to his grandmother's to take care of the horses and then back to Jamie's house before dinner. Somehow, he doubted that would be possible, especially when Ford pulled into the parking lot of a small Mexican restaurant. When he found a spot, he sent another message to her to let her know he probably would not make it for dinner. His phone vibrated almost immediately in return, but he figured it wise to not tell her where he was or who he was with at that point.

It was a surprise to him as they were led to a small table painted a vibrant yellow to contrast with the blue, red and orange of the walls that he was a little nervous to hear what Ford would say. The last couple of weeks in Jamie's company had been some of the happiest days in his memory, the depth of which he had not realized until that moment. Although he knew it was not really their business, more than anything he wanted her brothers to approve of their relationship. With his family broken apart by war and their emotional scars, feeling the fresh optimism from her family had become vital to him. Knowing how close a family they were made it all the more important that he stay on their good side, and he was not mentally prepared for anything less. Jamie had become a priceless part of his life, one he would not willingly part with. She had encouraged him to talk, held him in her arms while he released his inner angst, and she reminded him constantly that he had the rest of his life ahead of him to do with what he wanted. In her company, he could feel himself heal.

Taking a seat across from Ford, Andrew watched as Jamie's brother smiled his thanks at their young hostess before turning his attention back to him. "You sure you won't have a beer?"

"Water's fine for me."

Ford placed their order with the girl and picked up the laminated menu. "I'm starved. Are you going to eat something?"

Reaching for his own menu, Andrew gave it a once over and hoped the food was as nice as the interior. "Sure."

Their waitress appeared with the drink order, interrupting any further conversation. She smiled expectantly while the two of them decided what they were going to eat. Andrew allowed Ford to go first then placed his own order for a chicken enchilada. He sat back with the fresh tortilla chips and salsa the waitress left at their table, waiting for Ford to say what was on his mind.

It took only a moment before Ford broke the silence. "How's the job going? Are you enjoying it?"

Andrew was surprised at this indirect approach but accepted it. "It's good to work... I like it."

"Times have been really tough for all of us lately, tight. Am I paying you enough?"

Andrew's brows rose. "Well, sure... I'm glad to have a job right now."

Nodding his head, Ford reached for a handful of chips and placed them on his plate but did not make an attempt to eat any. Instead, he leveled Andrew with a steady stare. "It's only been a short time, but I have to say that I'm still just as impressed with your work as I was when you first came on board. You're good with your guys and lead them exceptionally well. All of the jobs you've handled have gone without a hitch. I'd like to keep you on as long as possible."

"I have no plans of going anywhere," Andrew replied.

Ford took a long drink of his beer before setting it down on the table. His gaze avoided Andrew's. "Jamie told me that you've been invited to talk about your experiences over the last few years..."

His voice trailed off uncomfortably. That was a reaction he was growing more used to. Not very many people aside from Jamie wanted to discuss the wrong done to him. Darren was still studiously working on a settlement from the state, something Andrew had only discussed with him and Jamie. Now that he had her in his life, Andrew was finding the rage slowly easing from him and now more than ever he wanted to put the past – all of it – behind him. He wanted a new life, one that included Jamie.

The realization made him pause. A life with Jamie? That was sudden. As he thought of it, he concluded that he did, he really did.

"That's a career path I have little interest in," he reassured Ford.

"She also mentioned that you had given up pursuit of your master's when you joined the military. She said you were considering finishing that off."

The corners of Andrew's mouth deepened in amusement. "She's been talkative."

Ford shrugged. "Our family has no secrets."

So there it was.

"I can tell."

This time it was Ford who smiled in amusement. "I know you and Jamie tried to keep it quiet, and you'd leave early so no one would see your truck, but I jog in the evenings when it cools off." He patted his stomach. "I'm not getting any younger, and I'm beginning to settle in areas I have no wish to sag."

Though they were almost the same age, Andrew could not relate to Ford's comment. He was still as trim as he had when he was in the military. Though he tried to remain sympathetic, his voice was tight when he answered. "We weren't hiding anything. We have nothing to hide."

Waving his hand impatiently, Ford brushed aside Andrew's defensiveness as though it was a non-essential. "I'm not saying you do. I think you're a far better sight than that neighbor of hers who was chasing after her. He seemed to be looking for a new mother for his kids. Jamie doesn't need that. She's a great girl."

Andrew's brows rose as he felt the same twinge of jealousy that had overwhelmed him when he barged into her house. "Do you mean George?"

"Oh, you know him?"

"I met him once," he said roughly, remembering the night he wanted to kill the other man.

"So you know how desperate he is to get help raising those kids. I feel for the guy, but I know Jamie wouldn't be happy in a relationship like that. She needs someone tough, and a guy who can handle himself as well as her. I wish you all the best of luck, Andrew. She's a great catch for you."

Andrew had run several scenarios through his mind on how the initial discussion would go, but the blessing of the family patriarch was not something he had prepared for. He found himself smiling a real smile knowing that Ford was supportive of his budding relationship with Jamie. A weight was lifted off his shoulders; a weight he was not even aware he was carrying.

"I couldn't agree with you more," he replied.

"That being said, I want to keep you on, Andrew. If things don't work out with Jamie, I'd rather it not impact our working relationship. We're a tight family, and I'll kill you with my bare hands if you hurt my sister, but aside from that I'd like to try to maintain a professional relationship as well. Do you think you can agree?"

"I appreciate the vote of confidence," Andrew said dryly.

"You never do know, do you?" Ford said, chuckling again.

"I would as soon cut my own arm off than hurt a hair on your sister's head, so you don't have to worry about trying to kill me with your bare hands," Andrew said.

"Good, because I think I'd be in training for years before I could take you on," Ford said, relieved.

Nodding matter-of-factly, Andrew smiled again. "As I said before, I have no interest in going anywhere. I'll let you know if anything changes in the future."

"Good news," Ford said beaming.

The waitress returned then with their meals, and Andrew watched as Ford placed his napkin on his lap and dug in with the speed of a man who appeared to have not eaten in some time. It was clear why Ford was developing a bit of a paunch, he thought wryly. Andrew approached his food more slowly, savoring each bite of the enchilada like the man he was – one that had lived first on military and then on prison food for most of his adult life.

Words were few while they ate, so he allowed his mind to wander. Ford's approval of his and Jamie's growing intimacy left him feeling like an eager teen meeting a father for the first time, and he could not deny that he was pleased he was willingly accepted. Whether or not the other brothers would remained to be seen, but Andrew felt as though the hardest nut had been cracked. Feeling more relaxed, he enjoyed his meal, and it had grown dark by the time they exited the restaurant. Fall had been approaching rapidly, and the shorter days held the promise of cooler temperatures ahead. Andrew dreaded feeding the horses in the dark, but heading over to Jamie's afterwards was all the motivation he would need to make it quick.

Ford paused one more time before they parted ways for the evening. When Andrew looked up from unlocking his truck, Ford was tossing his keys in one hand as though debating something. He waited patiently.

"I'm not sure if you and Jamie have made plans yet, but Isabel is determined to have a Halloween party up at our place next weekend. If you're free, we'll expect you."

Andrew shrugged. "I'll ask Jamie when I see her."

Ford nodded. "Okay, then."

He still lingered, so Andrew indicated with his thumb to his truck. "I've got to get going before the horses break down the fences and storm the barn."

With a nod, Ford began to head away. At the last moment, he paused and called out. "Hey, welcome to the family."

Andrew drove away from their meeting with a wide grin and a new purpose. Things were starting to finally go right in his life. A new chance, Jamie had said. He had the chance to start all over from scratch, and now it appeared that the support was not just coming from the very special woman in his life but also from her family.

It seemed as though his luck was finally turning.

### Chapter 17

Despite the progress Andrew was making in his personal life, the problem of Adam was ever-present in his mind. The significance of his traveling around the Southwest visiting friends was not lost on Andrew, and not for the first time his brother's odd behavior worried him. Though Andrew did not speak of it, he was growing more anxious to see Adam to try to reach him through words if possible, fists if necessary. One way or another, he would draw out what was troubling Adam and stop his self-destructive behavior. One way or another, he would do what he had always done and try to help.

In the years since his return, more attention had been given to the state of the returning veterans and their ongoing issues. Sustained combat was now admitted and identified as a true source of post-traumatic stress disorder, the levels of which had not been seen since Vietnam. Andrew had no doubt that Adam was facing much of the same inner turmoil many of the others and he had experienced, but where Andrew had taken it upon himself to handle his situation and attempt to overcome it in whatever method he could, he feared Adam would be too stubborn to admit the diagnosis let alone try to face it.

Urban warfare was much different than the mountains of Afghanistan. Around every corner there could either be a bad guy or a child; Adam surely never knew. Entering the military as a kid fresh out of high school also impacted the much younger brother. At least Andrew had experienced life a little before he joined. His team had consisted of a small group of men, the average age of which of was early-30s, while Adam had been sent over with young guys, full of spit and vinegar but also fired up with the need serve their country. All these years and tours had taken their toll on him. While Adam had returned home safe, he still bore scars internally if not externally.

His grandmother had called him that afternoon to tell him that Adam was passing through Phoenix and would be home by dinnertime. First a trip to Tucson, then San Diego, and finally Los Angeles on his way back, Adam had driven a lot in a short time. That was something that concerned Andrew more than his angry behavior. It was all leading to something, but Andrew had no idea to what.

Jamie was supportive when he called her to let her know that he was heading to meet Adam. She wished him good luck with her cheerful voice, but Andrew knew how frightened of his brother she was. The first impression Adam had left her with was unfortunately not a good one, and although they had discussed that disastrous dinner and Andrew had apologized for his brother's rudeness, he suspected Jamie would not forgive him anytime soon. Considering how open Jamie was, that spoke volumes. Her opinion that he was loaded for bear seemed accurate, and Andrew wanted to shelter her from his brother. The uncustomary possessiveness sent warning bells off that even he feared his brother.

When he pulled into the drive of his grandmother's house, he saw an unfamiliar blue Cobalt parked. Adam was home. With a heavy sigh, Andrew climbed from his truck and went to the barn first. As was customary, he saw to the horses before entering the house, making sure that they were doing well and had plenty of water. He and Jamie had been going out on the weekends and working them, but Andrew still felt some residual guilt for not putting them through their paces as often as he should. He made a mental note before slowly heading into the house to ask Jamie to come out an evening or two during the week as they had before, anything to avoid the upcoming confrontation.

With a heavy heart, he entered the house through the slider as always, finding Linda singing by the sink as she prepared a fresh green salad. He nodded in greeting, taking in her cheerful greeting with a slight smile. As he felt his lips spread, he once again gave thanks for Jamie. Without her, the flash of his teeth would most likely not be present to Linda's sparkling eyes.

"Well look at you! You're glowing, Andrew," she said in amazement. "I take it these last couple of weeks have been good for you."

"They have," Andrew said in return.

"You're just in time for dinner. Adam got home an hour ago. He went to shower and change. You're staying for dinner, right?"

Apparently, the two women had already consigned him off to moving in with Jamie, and happily so, judging from Linda's dancing eyes. He reached down and gave her a hug, one that caused her to laugh in surprise. "Yes, I'm staying for dinner. I wanted to spend some time with Adam while I can."

"That's good news."

"What can I do to help?"

She pursed her lips. "Go on and set the table; we'll eat in the dining room again."

Reaching for a sliced carrot popping up from the top of the salad, Andrew swiped it before Linda could catch him. She swatted at him playfully. "Get on out of here. You can have as much as you'd like once the meal's ready."

She was still laughing when he reached for the plates and carried them into the dining room. Andrew realized that the sound of laughter did not offend him as much anymore. It was a good feeling, and he was proud that he was winning the battle over his scars.

"Hey, Drew."

Andrew's reflective smile faded when he glanced up. Adam stood in the doorway, looking trim and clean cut but still shifting anxiously. Taking a deep breath, Andrew promised himself that he would remain calm at all times and refuse to allow Adam to provoke him.

"Hey, yourself. How was your trip?"

Adam moved deeper into the room, his hands anxiously drumming atop the chair directly in front of him. "It was good. I saw some friends that I haven't spoken to since I came home."

"How did that go?"

Adam's drumming sped up a little. "Everyone's changed, Andrew. Kids, wives, divorces, it's like the world has moved on, and I'm still back in Iraq. It was harder than I thought to say goodbye."

Nodding sympathetically, Andrew kept his face as neutral as possible. "I know what you mean."

Adam's discomfort was obvious. His rapid drumming abruptly stopped, and he pulled out the chair in a jerky movement. "Yeah, I guess you would."

Not a good start to their conversation. Andrew backtracked quickly. "So have you been thinking about what you're going to do next?"

"Next?"

"Your contract's up soon. Have you considered what you're going to do when you're out?"

"I once had big plans to follow in your footsteps. That didn't quite work out, did it?"

Andrew stiffened, and his voice was hard when he answered. "You live your own life. There's no point in following in anyone's footsteps, especially when tragedy strikes."

"Tragedy? Is that what you call that BS?"

Ignoring his raised eyebrow, Andrew shrugged. "I can't call it anything else. What's done is done. I'm trying to move on and start a new life now."

"Yeah, with that hot little witness of yours? Too bad she wasn't there when the shit hit the fan. You wouldn't have had to put your life on hold if she hadn't disappeared on you."

Sighing heavily, Andrew frowned in warning. "I'm not doing this with you again. Leave her out of it; she had no idea."

"So she says."

This was the same discussion they had the night Jamie had overheard his accusations. That night Andrew had come to blows with his younger brother, but Andrew was determined that tonight would be different. To know the impact that Jamie had on him over the last two weeks, how happy he was with the way things were going had truly calmed his soul. He shook his head. "You know I'm not going to do anything but defend her. What she did took a lot of courage for a girl who only spent about thirty minutes in my company. I really don't know why you dislike her so much."

Adam shrugged. "Your life wasn't the only one impacted by Kit."

"You could've written me off to get your DOD clearance, Adam. It wasn't like you spoke to me after the conviction anyway."

"That wasn't what I meant, but whatever... I stayed a scout and spent four years in Iraq. Today, I don't think of anything beyond this minute, Drew. What's the point?"

"Because you still have your whole life ahead of you."

"My life ended when I went to Iraq."

Though Adam spoke lightly and followed up with a stilted laugh, Andrew frowned. Those were not the words of a man planning for his future, and regardless of their inability to see to eye to eye presently, Andrew still felt concern about his brother's seeming depression.

"How long have you felt that way?"

"What way? What are you talking about?"

Unfortunately, Grandma and Linda arrived with happy smiles and trays of warm food. "Andrew, glad to see you here," Grandma said in greeting. "How's Jamie? Is she joining us tonight?"

Andrew bent down and kissed his grandmother's cheek. "Jamie's good. She passes on her best wishes and regrets that she can't make it."

Grandma smiled and patted Andrew's hand. "Too bad. Maybe next time."

As everyone took their seats, Andrew returned his gaze to Adam. "I was hoping to spend some time with Adam before he left again... Adam, are you free after dinner for a bit?"

With all eyes turning toward him, Adam had no choice but to agree. His eyes flashed when he met Andrew's steady gaze, but he nodded sagely. "It'll be good to catch up."

Throughout the meal, Andrew studied his brother, taking note of his continued anxiety and obsession with spinning his knife on his plate. He stabbed at his salmon with a vengeance despite its tender and flaky consistency, and he gulped the wine that he and Linda shared. Following the meal, Adam was quick to help Andrew clear the table and clean the kitchen, but the two brothers did not speak while they worked. It was so unlike his recent Evans family dinner, where the talk had been light, interesting and full of laughter. There was not much laughter this evening, and Andrew sadly noted that when they eventually retired to the rooftop observatory, Adam brought along a twelve-pack of beer. Again, he was reminded of his own early days.

The night was cool and clear, and the sky glittered with hundreds of stars. When they were kids, they would stage camp outs up on the roof. Many evenings they had lain in their sleeping bags and stared at the stars above. They wondered if there was life on another planet somewhere and whether or not they would live to meet a true alien. As Andrew took a seat in the deck chair that now took the place of their sleeping bags, his gaze scanned the horizon, taking note of the almost-full moon, and the black outline of the mountain off to the east. Adam followed his gaze.

"It's been a while since we've been up here, huh?" Adam commented.

The nostalgia in his voice made Andrew lower his gaze. "I was just thinking about when we were kids. When I first got out of prison, I came up here every time it rained. It was filthy; I know Linda never comes up here to clean it."

"I haven't been up here since I enlisted."

Which brought them full circle again, Andrew thought. "About that... We were talking about what you were going to do. Have you thought about anything? Are you going to move back here?"

"Why would I?"

The complete surprise in Adam's voice took Andrew off guard. "Well, Grandma and Linda are here. I'm planning on staying..."

"I can't come back here for good."

As he spoke, Adam twisted the top off his bottle of beer. He took a long draught then, drinking down almost the entire bottle in one long, large gulp. Andrew watched in concern, pondering his words and wondering how to approach his resentment without appearing like the overbearing older brother Adam apparently thought he was.

"I don't bear you any ill will after I was locked up, Adam."

"Maybe you should," he replied cryptically. Foot tapping in much of the same manner as his hands earlier, Adam finished off his first beer before reaching for another. Before Andrew could explore his comment, Adam glanced up again. "That whole situation really sucked, huh?"

"Just a little," he said with a touch of sarcasm.

"She wanted you to take her home that night, you know."

"Maybe if I had, she would still be alive," Andrew said tensely.

"She was hot."

"I didn't think so at the time... She was too drunk to be attractive."

"Speak for yourself."

Adam's harshness caught Andrew off guard. He stared at his brother intently. Everything about his demeanor screamed nervousness, but Andrew was unable yet to determine what the cause of his discomfort was. His observation skills, honed from years in the military and then practiced in prison, were on fire at the moment. There was something within Adam just waiting to burst free.

"Everyone's entitled to their own opinion."

"Well, she liked you that night. She wanted you to take her home. How did you not notice?"

The conversation was uncomfortable for Andrew, but he remained determined to listen to his brother and let him express any rage that he needed to get off his chest. "I was preoccupied."

"With this Jamie?"

Andrew nodded. "Yeah, I liked her even then."

"I wish you hadn't. I wish you would've taken Kit home that night."

He spoke with so much regret that Andrew felt a lump in his own throat. "You and me both, believe me."

"Things would have been different for you," Adam said as he finished off his second beer. "You would've been making bank for some architectural firm by now, probably married with a few kids running around."

"I can't think of it that way," Andrew said. "It happened. Now all I can do is move on, pick up the pieces."

"You shouldn't have gone to prison, bro."

"The case has been reopened, and I understand they've got some suspects. It's done."

"It never should have happened to begin with," Adam insisted.

Andrew had enough. He changed the subject. "So you're single again?"

Adam looked taken aback at the sudden change, but he recovered quickly. Opening his third beer, he took another long drink. "She took off after a fight we had... couldn't handle the stress."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Though Andrew replied earnestly, Adam's response was immediately defensive. "I'm not the only one who came back a little stressed out."

Andrew nodded. "I had it myself. Still do, really. But I control it on my own now."

"How?"

Andrew smiled. "Yoga."

A sharp bark of laughter escaped from Adam. "Yoga? You shitting me?"

"Actually, no." He took a deep breath and took the plunge to open up to his brother in the hopes of breaching his angry wall. "I do breathing exercises and yoga positions. It's helped me a lot in the last few years. But when I first came home I had meds."

Adam perked up a little. His foot stopped the rapid tapping, and he leaned forward in his deck chair. Though his eyes still shone in the darkness with a nervous glitter that Andrew had seen on too many occasions to count, he was feeling a little more confident that there was hope for their relationship yet.

"It was easy for you to go on meds after you had your discharge. I'm not discharged yet, so I can't admit to anything. You know that."

Andrew nodded in understanding, but still he pushed. "I couldn't sleep. I still don't sleep very well, but I'm working on that. It wasn't just dreams... It was also the fear that if I wasn't constantly on guard something would get me. Even just sitting and watching TV. I would think someone was going to burst in and fire."

Adam nodded sympathetically. "I know what you mean. There was a guy in my outfit who would sleep walk. He'd attack some of us while we were in our beds. None of the higher ups would admit that he was having trouble."

"What happened to him?"

"He committed suicide."

Andrew's eyes slipped closed. "That's not right."

"They can't admit to any problems, you know that." Adam drank more. "We're on our own."

"Have you talked to anyone yet?"

"Why should I?"

The defensiveness was back in his voice, so Andrew backed off. "Just to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine. I don't have any problems. You know me, I'm always on edge." He met Andrew's stare straight on. "You know I've always been like that. You remember what it was like when mom was alive."

Actually, Andrew thought, this was not the brother he had sent off to war before he was arrested. Though he knew Adam had his scars from their childhood, there was now an edge that had not been present before, a shift to his moods that marked him as a man under stress. However, there was nothing that he could do without his brother's admission of his problem. He watched as Adam opened yet another beer and nursed it down in a few gulps instead of just two. Andrew remembered the days that he had done the same thing. As a drunk, he was not a pleasant person. He had ruined a burgeoning relationship due to his anger as well. It seemed to him as though his brother was following in his footsteps after all.

"Do you want to take a quick ride with me tomorrow after work? We'd still have a good hour of sunlight."

Adam glanced toward the barn. "I haven't ridden in a while. Maybe."

"I could use a little help since it gets dark so quick now, if you're up for it."

"I don't know what my plans are yet. I still have a few people I'd like to see. Let me see how it goes."

"Fair enough." Andrew came to his feet and glanced down at his brother. "I've got to head down there now and close up for the night. Do you want to come?"

Adam shook his head. Suddenly he seemed more subdued, almost sad. "Nah, I think I'll hang up here for a bit and stare at the stars. It's nice out."

Andrew nodded and headed for the spiral staircase, pausing long enough to place a hand on Adam's shoulder as he passed. He gave him a brief squeeze. "I hope you'll reconsider moving home."

The rapid tattoo of his foot against the roof began again, and Andrew thought he detected a hitch in his voice when he answered. "I just can't. You don't understand."

Though Andrew paused, he did not press further. Instead, he descended the stairs, listening to his brother's rapid foot tapping the entire way down, feeling helpless and as frustrated as his brother apparently did.

### ***

Despite his offer for a ride following work the next day, Adam had put him off all the way until Friday. However, when Andrew arrived at his grandmother's, he found that Adam had once again taken his rental car and driven off to parts unknown. Andrew hid his growing frustration behind a warm smile for the elderly ladies, one that reached his eyes. They commented on his growing happiness with pleasure, and Andrew realized that his excitement stemmed from seeing Jamie. With his brother gone away again, that meant an evening in her company. After days of not seeing her, he was feeling a lot lonelier than he would admit to and could not deny the anticipation filling his chest. Already, his mind spun with plans on surprising her before she left work for the evening.

With efficient speed, he completed his chores and showered before wishing the two women good evening and hurrying back out the door. It had been a long week without her. He missed her company and missed talking to her. After the heaviness of his depressive and unpredictable brother, he longed for her steady smile and warm hands.

It was almost an afterthought that drew him to stop at the grocery store on the way to her office. However, once inside he strode purposefully for the refrigerated section and grabbed a small bouquet of flowers. He was greeted at the cash register by a smiling older woman, and he smiled sheepishly at her in return.

This was all new to him, the overwhelming urge to show his appreciation and desire. In his previous relationships, he had always been the selfish one, treating his girlfriend almost as an afterthought while he focused on his career. Either his years of danger had matured him and gave him a new appreciation for life, or Jamie was _the one_. As he pulled into the parking lot of her office, he wondered if maybe it was both.

Her car was still in its regular spot, so he parked next to her and exited his truck, nervously gripping the end of the bouquet while he made his way to the door. As he pulled it open, he came face to face with a young blonde on her way out.

"Oh, excuse me," she said in surprise.

He stood aside to allow her to pass, but she hesitated when she saw the flowers. Gaze flicking between him and the bouquet in his hand, the girl's eyes suddenly went wide.

"Are you, uh, Andrew?"

The slip of a girl was staring at him in awe, and before he could speak, she held out her hand and shook his free one rapidly. "I'm Melissa, Jamie's assistant. It's nice to finally meet you."

Clearing his throat, Andrew nodded politely. "It's nice to meet you, Melissa. Is Jamie inside?"

"Oh, yeah. She's been working long hours this week since you haven't been around. Maybe you can talk her into leaving at a reasonable hour tonight?" She gave him a once over before smiling brightly again. "I'll bet you can talk her into it. You have a great night."

"Uh, thank you. You do the same."

As quickly as she had appeared, Melissa hurried away, and he reached for the door again and pulled it open. It was dim inside compared to the afternoon sunshine, and he stood for a moment to allow his eyes time to adjust. The soft sounds of classical music reached his ears, and he could hear Jamie's voice through an open door to his left. The desk directly ahead of him, now vacant, was obviously Melissa's. It was a colorful arrangement of toddler paintings, photographs in multi-colored frames, and a cup with flowers taped to the ends of pens. He shook his head. No wonder Jamie used her to greet her clients. She certainly was enthusiastic.

With two chairs resting against the wall across from Jamie's office door, Andrew took a seat to wait for her to finish on the phone. It was not long before she laughingly wrapped up her conversation and set an appointment for the following week. When he heard the handset return to the cradle, he came to his feet and knocked on the open door while poking his head inside.

"Hey."

Jamie visibly startled with a small cry of surprise. Her hand pressed against her breast, but her chocolate eyes lit up with pleasure. "Andrew! You just scared me to death."

"Your door was unlocked."

"Melissa was supposed to lock it behind her." She frowned. "Did she leave?"

"I saw her on my way out. She let me come in."

Jamie pushed away from her desk and came to her feet. He liked the black skirt that ended just above her knees and pale blue sweater. Her lithe figure was flattered in the well-fitting business casual outfit, and not for the first time Andrew wondered why she was content with him. After all, she was quite the catch, happy, easygoing and beautiful. She could have any man that she wanted. Yet she was willing to take him on, issues and all.

However, her smile and glowing eyes were focused solely on him at the moment, and he felt a surge of pride. "Well, don't just stand there. Come in," she demanded.

He returned her smile as she approached and threw her arms around him. The sweet floral scent of her hair and the soft feel of her warm body against him sent a rush of joy through his heart. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. Inhaling deeply, he buried his face in her mahogany waves.

"I've missed you," she said into his neck. "It feels like days and days since I saw you last."

Like the sweetest sounding music to his ears, he heard her sigh in contentment. She snuggled into his embrace and hugged him tight, even though his returning words got caught in his throat. After a period of silence, she drew away and smiled up at him. "Thanks for coming to see me. It's been a long week."

"It has," he murmured.

So caught up in her warm welcome, he suddenly remembered the flowers still gripped in his hand. He took a step back and brought them up between them. She giggled in surprise. "You brought me flowers?"

"Yep."

"Wow, you're full of surprises today." She took the bouquet from his hand and lifted them to her nose. "Is it okay if I keep these here? They'd look great on my desk."

"Of course. Do what you want."

One brow rose in amusement, but she did not tease him. "Let me go lock that door before someone else comes in. I'll see if I can find a vase to put them in."

He nodded briefly and released his hold on her waist. Following her trim back and admiring the gentle swing of her backside as she led the way back into the main office, Andrew watched as she deftly locked the door before moving to a back room where a small kitchenette was hidden. He was impressed with her neat little office. It was well equipped and a good size for her modest clientele. As she bent to rummage in a cabinet under the small sink, he continued to watch her move. Once again, he was overwhelmed with the amount of longing the sight of her brought out of him.

Straightening with a triumphant snort, Jamie smiled at him over her shoulder. "Melissa's boyfriend sent her flowers for Valentine's Day. I was hoping she left the vase here."

As she busied herself with trimming the ends of the flowers and organizing them in the glass vase she had found, Andrew could not resist his own attempt at teasing her. "You don't get flowers regularly then?"

She laughed aloud. "Me? No. Unfortunately, I can't even remember when the last time was that I got flowers... Well, except the bouquet your grandmother sent me after you were released."

"Not even from George?"

She looked surprised. "My neighbor?"

He had never had the opportunity to ask her about Ford's offhand comment about the neighbor he had met, but now that he had mentioned the name, he realized that he really did want to know what her opinion of the man was. "Ford mentioned that you two went out."

Admitting a touch of jealousy was hard for him, but her reaction was everything he could have hoped for. She laughed again, a light sound that warmed his heart once more. She set the vase and fluffed the bouquet one last time before turning to face him. Leaning against the counter, she put her hands on her hips and shook her head. "Oh gosh, I had dinner with him a couple of times, one that ended up a barbecue in his backyard with his children. No, George never bought me flowers."

"Good."

His single word answer drew her laughter again, and she leaned forward to grasp the lapels of his shirt. She pulled him to her, and he went willingly, his heart picking up in tempo as she paused when their faces were just inches apart.

"Are you a little jealous, Andrew?"

Rather than answering her question, he closed the gap between them, and his lips covered hers hungrily. When he lifted his head a few moments later, her eyes were glazed. Feeling satisfied with her reaction, he felt a smile grow and part his lips as he stared down at her.

"Maybe a little," he admitted.

Nodding her head slowly, she gave his head a slight tug to draw him close again. "I like that."

"You do, huh?"

"Are you just swinging in on your way home?" Her voice held plenty of promise, and he could feel his loins tighten instinctively.

He shook his head. "Adam took off again."

"He did? So that means..."

He nodded. "It does."

"Then come here."

A slow, seductive and pleased smile spread her lips, and she leaned forward and kissed him again. With no one to interrupt, with nowhere to go, he lifted her onto the counter and wondered if he would ever be able to get enough of her. At that moment, he knew he could never let her go. He was hopelessly and happily trapped in her tender grasp.

### Chapter 18

Following the family dinner at Ford's house that weekend, Andrew finally admitted to Jamie that he had missed her as much as she claimed to have missed him the week before. It was a big step for him, but the joy that had flashed in her eyes gave him the confidence to continue opening up to her. He liked that she was so easy to talk to, and it was growing easier for him to express himself when he had such an avid listener. Her brothers were more accepting of him than he had expected, and Jamie made no attempt to hide their relationship from any of them. She sat by his side and touched him casually throughout the evening, surely turning any rumors that remained into fact. Surprisingly, they continued to support his presence, and there were no subversive glares or threatening stares sent his way. Ian had even pulled him aside and advised him of the latest in Kit's case. They were closing in on a suspect, meaning Andrew would once and for all be able to escape the stigma.

He was settling more and more into his new life, a life he never would have dreamed possible just six short months ago. He had a job, was starting a new relationship, had developed new friendships and felt as though things were finally going his way. Though he would always bear some scars from his past, he felt strong enough to continue moving forward. It had become easier to contact Smack over the last month, and he had even sent the kid some money to go into his account. Smack had reported that he was holding up and still attending classes. Knowing that he had left his cellie with some semblance of a chance had boosted Andrew's confidence all the more.

He had made a difference after all.

There was only one dark cloud hovering over his head reminding him of his one continued failure. If only he could make the same impact on Adam.

For every moment he spent in Jamie's company, falling deeper in love with her gentle spirit and loving personality, the wedge between him and his brother grew. With only one week left before he had to return to the base, Andrew feared what would happen once Adam left Arizona. Even his grandmother had voiced her concern that he would not return any time before her funeral. Adam's continued erratic behavior reminded Andrew that he still had not learned exactly what was going on, and he also realized he had missed many hints and subtle innuendos.

With that in mind, Andrew again dragged himself from Jamie's arms and moved back in with his grandmother, intent on pulling from Adam what was troubling him.

Knowing that he was due home from a trip to Albuquerque that evening, Andrew drove straight out to his grandmother's following another long workday. Ever since the weather had cooled off he had ridden more frequently, but his riding partner had more often than not been Jamie rather than Adam. His brother showed little interest in the animals. Once an avid rodeo rider like his older brother, Adam seemed completely disengaged from anything horse related. In fact, none of his previous interests appealed to him anymore. These increasing warning signs boded trouble sometime in the future. Though how quickly that trouble was to hit was unknown to Andrew at the time.

He was to find out that it was not as far off as he had thought.

At the same time Andrew was climbing out of his truck, Grandma was wheeling directly into his path with a pensive look on her face and a slip of paper in her hand. For such a slight woman, she was wheeling herself pretty quickly in his direction, and Andrew watched her approach with an impending feeling of doom.

"Andrew, I just spoke to Gracia. I think you may want to call her back."

Frowning, Andrew reached for the slip of paper. "Who's Gracia?"

"Gracia was Adam's fiancé. She called me today."

Glancing down at the slip of paper now crumpled from being pressed against the pushrim of the wheelchair, Adam studied it carefully as though looking for clues. His grandmother's normally neat handwriting was hasty and scribbled, but he could make out the number and name. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure. She was babbling about police and Adam. She said she needed to speak to him as soon as possible, but he wouldn't answer his phone."

Andrew's lips compressed tightly. That could not be good. He nodded and reached into his pocket for his cell phone. With thumbs that felt like sausages, he dialed the number scribbled on the paper. The phone answered on the first ring.

"Adam?"

He cleared his throat nervously. "No, this is Andrew, his brother."

"Oh." The disappointment in her voice was evident. With a voice that sounded more like a young child caught in the act of doing something wrong, its high pitch and shaky tone conveyed her fear. "Is Adam there with you now?"

"He's not home yet. We're expecting him this evening..." Though he could sense her reluctance to speak with him, he was concerned enough to press her. "I understand that you might be in a little trouble?"

"It's not me that's in trouble," she blurted.

"Can you tell me about it?"

"Adam's not there?"

Her simple question made the blood in his veins run cold, though for what reason he could not determine yet. He glanced at his grandmother and nodded for her to go back to the house. "I'm outside alone."

Grandma gave him a concerned frown before turning her chair around and wheeling back the way she came. Andrew felt sympathy for her, but at the moment he had no idea what was going on, and the less stress he brought her, the better.

"I'm not sure how much you know about what's been going on out here, but he must have told you that I left him."

"He did mention that."

"I left him because he was getting more violent and drinking too much. I was scared."

Her voice trembled as she spoke, and Andrew felt a surge of anger toward his brother. The way he had thrown Jamie up against the wall flashed in his memory. "Okay."

"I had the police here today looking for him. Something about a girl who claimed he tried to kill her. They wanted to talk to him."

Andrew's hand tightened around the phone reflexively. "What did you say?"

"I didn't say anything. I told them that we broke up three-months ago, and I wasn't sure where he went. I gave them his grandmother's phone number."

Andrew's eyes drifted closed. This was not good. He was sure his grandmother would not be able to go through another scene like the one he had put her through. Pressing his thumb and forefinger against the bridge of his nose, he pinched tightly and struggled to think. "Do you know who this girl is? Could she be lying?"

A shaky laugh reached his ears. "I don't know for sure, but I can tell you that what they told me he did... he had done to me, too."

He could not hide his disbelief when he responded. "You mean he tried to hurt you?"

"I'd rather not discuss it, really. I'm just trying to move on with my life. I loved Adam, I really did. It's just that he changed so much, and I couldn't be with him anymore." She inhaled shakily. "Please let him know if you can that they're looking for him. It might be better for him if he contacts them before they find him."

Andrew reached for his pen and spread the paper his grandmother had given him on the hood of his truck. "Okay, do you have a contact name and number?"

She rattled it off and then abruptly disconnected. For a while, Andrew stared at the number blindly, wondering what his brother could have done to bring this new trouble. Though he wanted nothing more than to claim Gracia was lying, unfortunately her fear was too real, her concern not scripted, and her sorrow evident. Worst of all was the reality that he could actually believe her just from viewing his brother's behavior. Adam had proven already that he was on edge, and now Andrew had confirmation that he was unpredictable as well.

With his own horrific experience with the legal system, Andrew felt hesitant to get involved. However, this was his baby brother, the boy he had tried to protect for most of his life. This was the kid who had climbed into his bed following nightmares or the occasional bedwetting after a beating. Andrew had always taken care of his brother. He needed to do it now.

He just did not know if he was strong enough.

First he needed to think.

### ***

A chilly evening turned into a breezy night when Andrew retired to the rooftop observatory with Adam. He donned a coat over his long-sleeve pullover before leaving the house, admitting finally that the dog days of summer had turned into the cool temperatures of fall. This was the second evening with temperatures in the 50s, and there was talk of a winter storm arriving within the next few days. The hint that the mountain may actually get a dusting of snow caused Andrew's eye to stray to the black silhouette off in the distance. Seeing it with snow was a sight to behold, and this year he welcomed staring at it from his grandparent's roof rather than from the distance of his prison cell.

"Do you remember when we first came here?" Adam broke the silence with a wistful smile and low voice. "Do you remember how we looked up at that mountain and thought we were in the wilderness?"

Andrew nodded with a smile of remembrance. "Afraid grizzlies would break in our bedroom and attack us."

Adam chuckled. "Exactly."

"I remember."

"I had no idea back then what wilderness was. I bet you didn't either until you were deployed."

Andrew's lips compressed. "To an extent, yes. There were definitely remote areas."

"Filled with savages."

"Filled with people who were not accustomed to heavily armed troops shooting them and invading their land," Andrew corrected softly.

"Funny how things are never what you expect them to be... what you think you know, and what is the truth end up being two separate things."

"That's very true." Andrew took a deep breath. It was now or never. "I spoke to someone from back east today."

Adam's brows rose in undisguised surprise. "You did? One of your old unit buddies?"

"No, she called for you."

"She?"

The change in Adam's demeanor was sudden. While previously reclining in his chair with his beer nonchalantly dangling from his hand, he suddenly sat up straight, and his foot began its nervous tapping. Andrew noted the change with interest.

"Gracia."

"She called looking for me?"

Andrew turned and leaned against the roof, crossing his legs at the ankle. This was the important time; the time when he would have to watch Adam's reaction carefully. Lies were easy to spot when one knew what to look for. Considering his experience in gauging liars, Andrew suspected his brother would be a piece of cake. "She called to warn you. Apparently, some police officers were looking for you and visited her. Did you have some trouble with another woman before you left?"

Adam's eyes widened even more, until they appeared like large, white saucers in his handsome face. The rapid tattoo of his foot stopped as he ingested the new information, and Andrew saw that his chest barely rose. Adam was so surprised that he forgot to breathe.

Interesting.

His initial surprise turned to confusion. His brows drew together and his lips grew thin. "Did she tell them where I was?"

"Not exactly."

Adam's eyes strayed back to the mountain. He considered Andrew's response carefully for a moment before turning back and smiling. "I think before I leave I'll hike back up there one last time... you know, leave with a bang."

"She left me a name and number. Do you want it?"

"Well, I guess I'd better, so that I know what's going on."

Nodding his head slowly, Andrew stared at his brother closely. "You have no idea why the police would be looking for you?"

Never turning away from the mountain, Adam shook his head. "No clue."

"Then maybe a call can fix that. I'll leave the number on the counter for you."

"Cool."

"Will you still be here tomorrow when I get home?"

"I want to catch up on my sleep and visit with Grandma a little before I leave. Why? You going somewhere?"

Shrugging, Andrew thought of Jamie. "I'll be back tomorrow after work."

Though he never mentioned her outright, Adam seemed to know. He stiffened, and his voice was cold. "You're serious, huh?"

"She's been good for me."

Snorting in disbelief, Adam downed the rest of his beer and crumpled the can in one hand. "No woman is any good, Andrew. They're all liars, just useless. Sooner or later, you'll realize that."

"Strong words, Adam," Andrew said softly.

"But all true."

"I'm sorry you feel that way," he replied as he turned to the stairs. Once again, he left his brother alone on the rooftop staring off into the distant blackness.

"Yeah. Have a good night, bro."

When Andrew pulled into Jamie's driveway, he stared at the darkened house for a moment. Though he knew Jamie was not expecting him, he had the overwhelming urge to see her one last time before he took action. Conflicted thoughts plagued his mind, concern for Adam, fear for the trouble his brother was facing, and worry for the lies his brother had just fed him. In addition to that was his growing suspicion and fear for what he had to do next. Though he knew it was not fair to her, more than anything he needed Jamie's stability.

Pressing his finger against the bell, he waited as the melodious chime echoed through the house. A few moments later, he heard the sound of a lock turning, and suddenly Jamie was before him, backlit by the light from the kitchen which cast a halo around her. To him, she was his angel. Her dark hair was hanging loose around her shoulders, tumbling down her back and contrasting sharply with the infamous red bathrobe. Returning his gaze to her clear, beautiful face, he noted the broad smile that reached her sparkling, dark eyes. She pushed the door open, and he reached for her eagerly. Enveloping her in his arms, he pulled her close and buried his face in her hair.

"Wow, what a nice surprise," she gasped.

When he did not answer, she reached out and closed the door behind him with one hand while the other held him close. Once the door was locked, she guided him the sofa in her great room and pushed him down. He sat heavily, his hands remaining around her hips as she followed and straddled his thighs. Her hands went to his face. They were cool and gentle against his rough cheeks. She leaned forward and kissed him several times, light and warm kisses against his lips, cheek and chin.

"What happened?"

"It's Adam... Jamie, I don't know what to do. I needed to see you," he replied. Though he did not doubt she knew of his need, his hands tightened around her hips.

"I can tell," she said with a chuckle.

"Let's talk later."

### ***

Jamie lay nestled in the crook of Andrew's arm, her cheek pressed against the smooth skin of his chest. She listened to the strong and steady beat of his heart which had slowed considerably after their urgent lovemaking. While accustomed to his varying moods and unexplainable tension, tonight there was something more tangible about his distress. Though he was not yet speaking, she was concerned about what was to come. With his arms wrapped around her securely, Jamie felt enveloped yet it was a hollow feeling. He just was not there. His mind was miles away. Something had happened. Something bad.

Her hand crept up to his smooth chest and she began tracing small lines across the various muscles of his chest. She smiled as she thought how unlikely a couple they were, how crazy their situation was. However, she had no regrets; instead, she was happier than she had been in years. She foresaw a long and happy lifetime with Andrew, regardless of his past.

"I need some time," he said softly.

Even though she was not sure what she expected was troubling him, that was certainly not it. Drawn from her fantasies of picket fences and a houseful of children, Jamie's hand stilled in her random exploration. Propping her chin where her cheek recently rested, Jamie tilted her face to meet Andrew's gaze in the darkness. "Time?"

Though his hands tightened around her in a way that told her he never wanted to let her go, his voice was distant and lifeless. It was more like the old Andrew, and she felt a shiver of fear race down her spine.

"A few things have come up, and I'm afraid I won't be able to be there for you... I need some space."

She stiffened slightly. "Have I done something out of line?"

"No!" He shook his head. "You don't understand."

"Then enlighten me."

He exhaled heavily, his breath stirring her hair. "I can't right now."

"But you will?"

"When I'm able."

"Ok... I guess." Her voice broke slightly.

Andrew's arm tightened instantly. "Jamie, this has nothing to do with you. I need you to believe that first and foremost. Please, don't be hurt."

"Okay," she said softly. "If you have things you need to deal with, that's fine. I just wish you could share it with me."

His hand left the curve of her waist and reached up to stroke her hair. The touch was as gentle as it had ever been, and again Jamie marveled at his restraint. So large, so strong, so familiar with death and violence, and yet his heart was still as gentle as an innocent's. Leaning into his hand, she reached up and stroked his furrowed brow.

"Can you talk about it at all?"

He shook his head with regret. "Believe me, Jamie, I would if I could. I can't even put my finger on it yet. I just have the feeling that things are going to go all to hell again, and I don't want you involved."

"I want to be there for you, Andrew," she insisted. "I should be."

"You are, more than you think. Just knowing that I can go through what's coming and come home to you makes it possible for me to keep going."

"These cryptic words are frightening," she muttered unhappily.

"It might be nothing. Please don't worry."

She snorted. "How can I not worry when you're being evasive and ominous?"

"Because everything I'm feeling is just a hunch or maybe a feeling. There's nothing concrete to it."

"Yet."

"Possibly."

Leaning up, Jamie followed her hand and pressed her lips against his. It was a brief kiss, but she put as much of the love that she felt in her heart into it. When she slowly pulled away his eyes were distant, but his hands were still gripping her tightly.

"I love you, Andrew," Jamie whispered. "And I'll still be here when you're ready."

Speaking the words were not as difficult as she thought it would be, even though the response was not what she would have hoped. He nodded briefly and slid down until they were face to face.

"I'm sorry that you got mixed up with me." She heard the misery in his voice and longed to shake some sense into him. "You deserve so much more than what I can offer."

She pressed her fingers to his lips. "Sshh, don't say that."

"It's true."

"No it's not. You're perfect."

A deep groan rose from his chest, and he dipped his head to capture her lips. Though unable to say the words, she felt the tightly contained emotion emanating from him. He cared, and that was all that mattered at the moment. That was all she needed to know.

### ***

Jamie always felt a sense of loneliness when she awoke to an empty spot beside her. Whenever Andrew spent the night, she wanted to wake up with him beside her even though his sporadic sleep pattern had not eased completely yet. Despite the strides he was making, he still awoke several times in the night with a jerk or a shout. He settled once she moved to his side, snuggling up against her and holding onto her like a man drowning. Those were the mornings when Jamie knew that they were meant to be together. However, then there were still mornings when she would wake and he would be gone. This was one of those mornings, and the empty feeling seemed even more pronounced following his cryptic comments in the night.

She lay in bed for several minutes, running their conversation over in her mind in a desperate search for clues. After their glorious weekend, his sudden change seemed out of sorts and even forced, but she threw back the duvet and turned on her shower with every intention of keeping her promise. She had agreed to wait until he was ready, and she intended to keep it that way.

Going through her morning ritual distractedly, she had just pulled on her cream-colored sweater when the doorbell rang. Hurrying to the door in the hopes that Andrew returned, she pulled it open and spotted Adam on the other side of the screen. She was unable to hide the look of distaste and surprise as she faced the last person she expected to see at her door. With wrinkled clothes and tousled hair, Adam looked as though he had not slept at all the previous night. Glancing beyond him to the small rental car parked haphazardly in her driveway, she frowned in confusion.

"Adam?"

"I'm looking for Andrew. Is he here?"

"Andrew?" She shook her head. "Um, no... I imagine he's at work."

Adam's eyes shifted quickly, looking beyond her into her great room and then back again. "I tried. He isn't there." As though pressing his point home, he reached for the locked screen door handle. "Jamie, I'm really worried about him. He was weird yesterday and then took off. I haven't seen or heard from him since, and I'm a bit freaked out."

That feeling of concern over Adam's stressed appearance suddenly made sense. With Andrew's cryptic words the evening before, she could completely understand his strain for she suddenly felt it, too. "He was here, but he left early."

"I need to find him. Now." His voice broke as he spoke with desperation that seemed to enhance his nervous behavior. "He's my brother."

Jamie swallowed hard. Had Andrew tried to tell her something the night before that she had missed? All she remembered was that he had a problem that he needed time to sort out, something that seemed to have to do with Adam. However, Adam was standing before her, running his hand down his face and around his neck in a move she had seen Andrew do countless times. Concern rising, Jamie could not help but call Adam back when he turned to leave. Despite her own misgivings, her memory of Andrew's strange actions the night before only increased her worry.

"Wait! I'll go with you."

Adam paused and waited while Jamie unlocked the screen and pushed the door open. He scanned her from head to toe before shaking his head. "Where I think he went you can't go dressed like that."

She frowned. "Where's that?"

"The mountain." He sighed unhappily. "We were just talking about going up there again."

She looked at her business casual, cream-colored sweater and brown pencil skirt. "I'll throw on some jeans. Come in for a minute."

She noticed the conflicting emotions cross his face, but before she could plead with him he chanced one last glance at his car before entering the house. "Quick."

She left him standing in the doorway and hurried back to her bedroom, unzipping her skirt as she made her way through the bathroom to her closet. Grabbing the first pair of jeans she spotted, she threw them on and reached for a battered pair of jogging sneakers and socks from her drawer before hurrying back out.

Adam remained where she had left him, his sharp gaze exploring the layout of her home. She followed his gaze, seeing Andrew's jacket thrown across the sofa, and her robe in a heap on the floor. Though color stained her cheeks, all that mattered at the moment was her concern for Andrew.

"Ready?"

Adam's gaze returned to her. "You're quick. Good."

He stood aside so she could pass and closed the door behind her. Together they hurried for the car with Adam slipping behind the wheel in a move that was so like Andrew's that it made her heart ache.

Once he had pulled out of her development in the direction of the highway, Adam spoke. "We used to go up there when we were younger. Andrew's said that going over one of the cliffs would be the best way to go."

He spoke so ominously that Jamie spun in the seat. Reaching for his arm, she gripped him tightly, uncaring that her nails dug into his wrist. "Go?"

"I'm not saying that's his plan, Jamie. You've gotta relax."

"How can I relax when you're throwing this at me all at once? I need to talk to him." She looked down at her feet. "Damn. I forgot my purse. My phone is in there. I could be calling him now."

Adam shook his head. "I've tried - several times."

"What happened?" Jamie asked, feeling tears sting her eyes. "What happened that made him change so quickly?"

Adam maneuvered through the morning traffic with ease, and Jamie was thankful that most motorists were travelling toward Phoenix while they were heading east. Panic was heavy in her breast, and her breathing came in rapid and shallow gasps. All she could think was that Andrew needed her, and she would not be there in time. Every minute was torture.

"He mentioned at dinner that he got a call yesterday. He seemed a little quiet and wouldn't talk about it. I noticed he lied to Grandma about it, and then he just up and took off... I know my brother. Something was bothering him."

She nodded. "Yes, he mentioned a little bit of trouble to me, too."

With eyes so like Andrew's, Adam turned to stare at her. "Did he say who it was or what it was about?"

"No. Just that he wasn't sure what was going to happen but feared it wouldn't be good."

Adam continued to stare at her until she was afraid he would drive them off the road. Her gaze flickered back to the windshield, which seemed to draw Adam's attention back to driving. With a quick nod, he accepted her response. "He's always been the good one, Jamie. He's always been the brave one."

Jamie nodded, her lips parting as she thought of him. "He's a good man."

Adam was watching again, and his brows drew together as he ingested her faraway look. "You know what's strange?"

"What?"

"Andrew gets that same look on his face when he thinks of you."

"He does?"

Adam sent her a wry smile. "He does. He said that you're good for him."

She attempted to smile at Adam, but it felt more like a grimace than a true smile. "Adam, I just want him to be okay."

### Chapter 19

So engrossed in her rising anxiety, it wasn't until Adam took a turn down a remote dirt road several miles from his grandmother's that Jamie realized that they were in an unfamiliar area to her.

"Where are we going?"

She had been looking out the window, seeing the mountain loom closer with every minute that passed, but this road was one that she had never traveled down. In fact, it appeared as though not many people did. After a short drive, the dirt road became more like a rock road, and the rental car Adam drove bottomed out several times.

"This is a shortcut to the trail. We could've parked at the state park, but this will be faster."

"But where are we going exactly?"

Adam hit the brakes hard again and maneuvered around another large rock, slowing the car to a crawl as he went over a large boulder poking up from below. When he was convinced that the danger had passed, he returned his attention to her. "Up there."

He pointed straight ahead to the mountain. It was still in shadow, a dark purple behemoth rising from desert like a majestic and dangerous peak full of danger and superstitions. Though she had grown up viewing the peak and it was a familiar sight, today it appeared threatening and angry. She shivered.

"We'll grab the trail to Siphon Draw and continue up to the Flatiron. My guess is that he's up there – or at least still on his way. It's a tough climb."

"I only have sneakers."

"You can make it. I'll help you."

"Water?"

"I always have a few gallons in the trunk... I've been in the desert all my life, if not this one then in the Middle East. I'm always prepared."

They had reached the end of the road. Only one or two houses remained in this area, and across the street was virgin desert. It was eerily quiet and remote. Reaching for the jacket she had grabbed, Jamie gave Adam one last skeptical look. It would be colder up on the mountain. The elevation change sometimes brought snow to the peak even when the desert floor was relatively warm. Adam shrugged at her hesitation.

"You can take the car back to my grandmother's if you want."

She shook her head. "Not a chance. I'm scared for him."

Giving her an appreciative look, he nodded. "Good. I think I still have my pack back there. I'll carry as much as I can fit. You can handle the rest, okay?"

"Absolutely."

Within moments, Adam was leaning over the trunk. He pulled free a large camouflage backpack already bulging at the seams. As she stood to the side, he pulled out some spare clothing and tossed it on the floor of the trunk before stuffing in two gallons of water to take its place. The remaining items he left in the pack, and when he hefted it onto his shoulders, she spotted a sleeping bag, and the outline of what appeared to be a tent in the side pocket. She realized that he was not kidding when he said he was prepared.

"I got it all. Let's get going," he said abruptly. Before he closed the trunk, he reached back in and pulled out a thick sweatshirt. He thrust it in her direction. "You might want to take this in case it gets cold up there."

She took the offered sweatshirt and was about to express her thanks when he turned brusquely and slammed the trunk shut. Without another glance at her, he strode off to a wire fence that separated the forest land from the residential area. Shrugging, she hurried after him, throwing the sweatshirt over her shoulders and tying the arms around her neck.

The trail started off wide, and Adam walked briskly over the uneven ground. Though Jamie stayed in good shape for the most part, she struggled to keep up with his long-legged stride and well-developed stamina. The further they went, the steeper the trail, and the open fields of creosote and jojoba bushes narrowed into steep cliffs and startling rock formations on either side. After the first mile, she was huffing and puffing, but Adam continued his stride without seeming to notice her discomfort.

Determined to keep up and fueled with the urge to find Andrew, Jamie continued to push herself to her limit. Periodically, the sound of a train whistle echoed in the draw, reminding her of civilization just a short distance away despite the silence surrounding them. Though considered a popular hiking spot, the midweek, early-morning hike left them alone on the trail. It was an eerie feeling.

At the doorway to the steeper hike up, Adam dropped down on a rock to wait for her. She finished her approach and took a seat across the trail from him with a heavy sigh. Unzipping his pack, he reached in and removed one of the gallons of water. After removing the plastic seal, he handed it to her. Though warm, the water felt good going down her parched throat, and she took several large gulps before handing it to him. He did the same before returning it to the pack and glancing back the way they had come. From this height, they could see the tall buildings of Phoenix off in the distance, as well as the city of Apache Junction in the foreground.

Finally catching her breath, Jamie followed his gaze. "It's quite a view up here."

He nodded distractedly. "So much has changed since I was here last. So many new houses... I remember when most of AJ was a campground for winter visitors. Now it's filled with cookie cutter houses with swimming pools. Life goes on, huh?"

"It does," she agreed.

His head swiveled back toward the Flatiron above. "Even here things have changed. The trail was never well maintained before. It's a walking path most of the way up now. What's up with that?"

She smiled. "The winter visitors come up here frequently."

"It's not a secret anymore."

"No, I guess not."

He exhaled sharply and came to his feet. "Well, more of an audience than I had hoped, but what the hell."

Cocking her head to the side, she frowned. "What do you mean?"

Instead of answering, Adam glanced back up the trail. "The Basin is just up ahead. From there, it's another hour or two up to the Flatiron. Andrew and I used to camp up there. It's pretty flat once we reach the top."

He turned then and began walking again, but Jamie was a little slower to come to her feet. No matter how uneasy she felt in Adam's presence, the fact that they were both looking for Andrew spurred her forward. Not for the first time, she regretted not having her phone with her. She plodded onward and upward behind Adam, hoping with all her might that they would find Andrew safe and sound and share a laugh with him at the top.

Not that he ever laughed.

Ahead, the jaggedness of the peaks around them sloped down into the smooth worn rocks of the Basin, a testimony to the power of the water that had eroded the top of the mountain. Several loose, large boulders warned her of the power of the funneled water and reminded her not to be anywhere close to the area during or directly after a storm. She glanced up at the gathering clouds and remembered the weather forecast threatening a winter storm. It brought some speed to her tired legs. They could not stay at the top for long. If they were caught in a storm, they would run the risk of being swept away when the rain started in earnest.

"What makes you think Andrew's up here?" Jamie asked as they reached the Basin. She took a deep breath and sat on the worn rock, causing Adam to pause several feet above her.

"We were talking about some adventures he brought me on. He said he wanted to come up here again."

With another shiver of unease, Jamie noticed that he would not look directly at her as he spoke. Instead, his gaze traveled around the Basin itself. A lone pond remained, with the waterfall above it stained black from the years of use. Large rocks, the size of basketballs or bigger, sat in the middle, again proving the sheer force of the water coming down from the steep cliffs above. She glanced at the sky again. The sun was still rising, but the strong rays were blunted by the wispy cloud cover.

"What if it rains?"

"Let's hope it doesn't."

Not satisfied with his answer, Jamie pressed again. "Why would Andrew come up here knowing that there's a storm coming?"

"He wouldn't." Adam hefted his pack higher on his back and settled it more comfortably over his hips. When he met her penetrating gaze, he nodded to the top. "Not unless he wasn't planning on coming down anytime soon."

His words, coupled with the chilled breeze that entered the draw and blew her hair away from her face, made Jamie feel cold inside. She regained her feet and began the slippery and steep walk. Adam led the way, his path finding skill honed from his time in the military as well as his familiarity with the mountain itself.

"It's a tough hike from here. Are you doing okay?"

"I'm more concerned about Andrew."

Jamie took another deep breath and glanced at Adam, who still appeared as energetic as he had when he first exited the vehicle. The only sign of exertion that she could see was a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. She felt inadequate, knowing that he was carrying a heavy pack, and all she had was a sweatshirt. He paused long enough to offer her the water again, which she grasped eagerly.

After a slow and tedious climb, a lone single propeller plane passed the draw, lower than she and Adam. Not realizing how far they had come in so short a time, Jamie gasped. Her intake of breath caused Adam to turn. "We're pretty high up now. It's not much further."

She moaned in protest, no longer caring if he knew how uncomfortable she was. "How many times have you said that already?"

"We can stop here and rest a bit if you want."

"Thank you," she said, sinking onto a rock. Relief surged through her as the weight came off her legs, and she closed her eyes thankfully.

"I gotta give you some credit. You're tougher than I thought." Adam was watching her carefully when her eyes reopened. He glanced away quickly when she caught his stare, turning his attention to his pack. From a side pocket, he managed to produce two individually wrapped granola bars. The sight of them reminded her that she had yet to eat that day, and her stomach growled in protest and anticipation. He handed her one and tore open his with a shrug. "I'm not quite fully stocked, but I always have something in my pack."

"I can tell," she replied cautiously. Not sure why he was suddenly being so thoughtful, she glanced down at the wrapped bar suspiciously. "Thank you. I needed this."

"I can't have you running out of energy when we're so close to the end. I need you with me for effect."

"Effect?" That did not sound good. Frowning, she cocked her head to the side. "I'd hope when we find him he'll laugh at us."

"I don't think he's going to laugh, but we'll definitely show him quite the surprise."

The hair on the back of her neck prickled in warning. All was not what it appeared to be, she was sure of it. Adam seemed too eager to please and concerned for her well-being. "I don't understand any of this. What could have happened to set him off so quickly?"

"Having you in his life has helped, Jamie, but there are some things that just never go away."

Jamie took another bite of the granola bar as he spoke, washing it down with the warm water. Between the two of them, the first gallon was growing low, but Adam insisted they were close so she did not fret about their supplies. Instead, she worried about Andrew. "He told me about some of it."

"Not all, though," Adam said cryptically. "There are some things that we never discuss with anyone. It only takes a word or a sound, and next thing you know you're in the middle of a nightmare again. Something may have set him off... maybe he came up here to a familiar place to calm down."

Jamie sat stunned and unable to fully comprehend how terrible an experience like that was. Having to live like that, having to attempt to function after the things that these men had seen that forevermore haunted their dreams, made a mockery of the cause in her mind. Suddenly, Andrew's words from the night before made more sense. He did not want her to see him torn up like that. Silly, in her opinion, but she could respect his desire to be alone.

Coming to his feet, he held his hand out to pull her up. She accepted his help and glanced around while Adam took the water and replaced it in his pack. With weary sighs, they began the climb again, scrambling over rocks and searching out the markers to keep on the right path. Every step was torture, and their knees cried out in agony as they scaled the large boulders that marked the trail. Pausing to catch her breath, Jamie turned to look behind her at the familiar sight of Red Mountain. Not only did it remind her of home, but she suddenly remembered that she had not called Melissa to tell her she would not be in. Jamie shook her head and wondered how long it would be before Ford called in the troops. Spying Adam several feet higher than her and still climbing, she began scrambling up the rocks again. "Do you still have your phone? I never called my receptionist to tell her I wouldn't be in."

He pointed to a mass of rock formations ahead. "We're almost to the top. I'll check my pack as soon as we get there."

"Okay," she breathed in relief.

He paused at the top while she scrambled up and waited for her to catch her breath before veering right. Finally, after several hours of strenuous hiking, the Flatiron beckoned. Aloe plants and prickly pear cactus littered the flat landscape, their green color contrasting sharply with the yellowish-orange, Mars-like rock upon which they dug their roots. Though Jamie was marveling at the magnificent view and the harsh landscape, one thing stuck in her head as being blatantly wrong. While Adam removed his pack and dropped it to the ground, she approached him and placed her hands on her hips angrily.

"Adam?"

He glanced up, unconcerned. "Yeah."

"Andrew's not here."

His gaze never wavered, but his words sent a chill down her spine. "I know."

### ***

Andrew disconnected the call from the Georgia detective in search of his brother and leaned his head against the bed of his truck. Things were far, far worse than he had feared, especially when the detective mentioned his time in jail for the strangulation death of Kit. Despite the distance of over a thousand miles, he felt almost as though the detective could read right into the deepest depths of his soul and feel his own rising suspicions. Nevertheless, keeping to his silent code, he maintained his brother's privacy in the hopes of speaking to him first.

His fears that Adam was near snapping were not as unfounded as he had hoped. The girl had claimed that he attempted to strangle her and would have succeeded if her roommate had not returned. _Strangle_. The very word made him shudder. That was how Kit had died. Suddenly, he was gripped with rage toward his brother, a deep seated anger at the years he had lost, and the hypocrisy that he had shown toward Jamie.

If Adam had left him to rot in prison... he could not even think about it. Not yet. Not now.

No sooner had he raised his head than he spotted Ford recklessly pulling into the job site. The truck came to a dirt-sliding stop in front of him, and Ford jumped from the cab without turning the engine off. "Where is she?"

The shouted, angry demand caught Andrew off guard. "Who?"

"Jamie. Where's Jamie?"

Face red with rage, Ford advanced upon him while confusion made Andrew frown in response. "What?"

Before Ford could reply, Andrew could feel the blood drain from his face as realization dawned. First the detective telling him that his brother was wanted for questioning in an attempted murder case frighteningly similar to the one he served time in prison for, now Jamie was missing. His most dreaded fears were coming true all at once. He could feel his legs buckle, and he reached for the bed of his truck to prevent himself from collapsing.

"Where's Jamie?" Ford pressed.

"I don't know. I left her around four this morning. I haven't spoken to her since, but she was sound asleep when I left."

Realizing that he was holding his phone in his hand, Andrew pressed the speed dial for Jamie. Ford watched him, shaking his head. Some of his anger had eased when he saw the stark confusion on Andrew's face, but his eyes were still wary when he spoke.

"Melissa called me when she didn't come in to work. I went to the house. Her phone, purse, coffee... everything was sitting on her counter... She just took off. I hoped you knew what was going on."

Andrew swallowed hard. His heart was beating so hard that he felt as though it would burst through his chest. The words he spoke next were almost as painful to speak aloud as they were to think. "Was there any forced entry?"

He was surprised at the anguish he heard in his own voice; it was the same pain and terror in Ford's eyes. "No. Which is why I thought..."

Ford's voice trailed off, but Andrew caught the meaning. He responded in a low and firm voice. "I would never hurt her, Ford."

"Who would?"

The unspoken accusation hung in the air. Neither man wanted to speak aloud what was undoubtedly thought. The realization burned Andrew, for he had paid the dues of being falsely accused before. Was it something he would never escape? Would suspicion and mistrust follow him forever?

"I don't know what you think, Ford, but I can tell you that I would never betray the woman who gave me my life back," he snapped.

They stared at one another, brown and honey eyes clashing. After searching his gaze for any sign of deception and finding none, Ford finally backed down. He sighed heavily, almost as though he was disappointed, but his voice was regretful. "Of course, I believe you. I just hoped..."

Though stung, Andrew understood Ford's frustration for he knew how it felt. Now they had to determine where she could have possibly gone, and at the moment Andrew did not have a clue. His fear was that it had something to do with his cryptic appearance the night before. However, Jamie had seemed okay with his request. In fact, she had promised to give him all the time that he would need. What had happened?

As Andrew pondered, Ford's phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out and pressed it to his ear. "Yeah."

While he turned away to take the call, Andrew continued to wrack his brain. For the life of him, he could not think of anyone or anything that could have sent her out of the house by her own free will without her handbag, keys and phone.

Nothing except him.

A thought so crazy that he almost discarded it popped into his head. In a mixture of panic and relief, he toyed with the thought briefly before shaking his head in disbelief. However, it returned even stronger than before. It made too much sense after what he had just learned.

"Ford," he called.

Glancing over his shoulder at him, Ford held up a finger to ask Andrew to wait. When he signed off, he turned and faced Andrew, his eyes shining with worry. "No one knows where she is. She just disappeared."

"I think she may be with my brother."

"Your brother? Why?"

"I'm not sure yet. I just think they might be together."

"You think, but you're not sure?"

"Well, it's something I'd like to investigate."

"I'm going with you. Hayden and Ian can check things out on their end. I want to be sure."

The truth of the matter was that he wanted to keep an eye on him, Andrew realized, but he nodded impatiently. If he wanted to come, he could come. "Do you know how to ride?"

"I'm not afraid of horses if that's what you mean? Why?"

"It's faster..." He glanced at his truck, the sudden urge to hurry to his grandmother's almost too strong to bear. "I've got to go."

"My truck's running. Let's go."

Without a word to anyone at the site, the two climbed into Ford's truck, and Ford floored it, casting one last glance over at Andrew as he made his way back to the main road. "I hope you're not feeding me a line of bull."

Andrew drew his hand down his face and around his neck and sighed heavily. Unfortunately, as much as he wanted to doubt himself, the feeling would not go away. Instead, it was growing stronger and made even more sense than he could accept. Adam had said that he wanted to go back up the mountain one last time before he left. He said he wanted to leave with a bang. Never in a million years did Andrew think that Adam was looking to make a bang for his attention. But what else could it be?

"I wish I was," he said softly.

"Fill me in."

Briefly wondering what Jamie's family's opinion of him and his family would be once he told Ford about his concerns, Andrew realized that more than their acceptance was at stake. Though he could not see his brother hurting Jamie, obviously there was a reason Adam would have lured Jamie from her home in the early morning. Knowing he had much more to lose than their esteem, Andrew explained it all.

### Chapter 20

"Did you know that my mother died of a drug overdose?"

Jamie continued to scowl at Adam. Jutting her chin forward in a show of stubbornness, she refused to respond.

"My dad took off when my mother was in the hospital having me. She couldn't take it and started using. It just got worse and worse until she OD'd when I was five. Andrew thinks that I don't remember any of that time, but he's wrong. I remember quite a lot. I remember how weak she was; I remember how much she lied."

Previous campers had spent time upon the Flatiron, so finding a fire pit had not been a problem. Once Adam had encouraged Jamie to sit by it, he wandered around the clearing to find old century plant stalks and other brush with which to light a small fire. Though she appreciated the warmth after the sun made its final departure behind the thickening cloud cover, she was still so furious that she had been duped into being lured to the top that she could not even find her voice.

Adam continued poking the fire as he spoke, but his eyes frequently scanned the trail below for any new hikers.

"My brother was the appeaser," he continued. "My mother started telling him when my dad first took off that he was the man of the house, and Andrew took that seriously. He always took care of me, especially when my mother turned on me."

Despite her frustration and irritation at being virtually dragged up the mountain for no reason, Jamie found herself tuning in to what Adam was saying. Andrew had only touched on his childhood with her, so this was new information and once again reminded her of what a survivor he had turned out to be.

"He defended me, Jamie. Always. Even if it meant he would get a beating, he would step in and protect me. The last time was the night before his twelfth birthday. As he grew up, he became more vocal, more protective, and more eager to save me from being the scapegoat punching bag. It earned him his fair share of fights, but he had grown into a strong kid and had shot up in height. That night, our mother lost her temper and began pounding on me, and Andrew stepped in to pull her away. Of course, the guy she was with jumped in and nearly beat him senseless. We both went back to our room to hide while our mother smoked her sadness away. The next thing we knew, an ambulance was pulling into the driveway and we were removed from the house.

"On his birthday, we stood in the driveway of Grandma's house, and Andrew clung to me as hard as I clung to him. We didn't know what to expect. He looked down at me and said, 'don't worry, Adam. I'll always have your back.'"

"I'm not surprised," she said, knowing Andrew well enough to understand he would do anything to help his brother. That was just the kind of man he was. A true hero, through and through.

"He still wants to do it. There's nothing that my brother wouldn't do for me. Even though he doesn't think I know that, I do... I've just never thanked him."

"Maybe you should."

"That's what I plan to do – as soon as he gets up here."

Reaching into his pack, Adam withdrew a threatening looking knife and a block of cheese. Using the knife with deft fingers, he cut off a chunk and handed it to her. The growling of her stomach reminded her of how little they had eaten during the strenuous hike up, and she reluctantly took the offered piece.

"Which brings me to what exactly is going on here, Adam? Why am I up here if Andrew's not?"

"I wanted to make sure he'd come before the storm. I didn't think he'd make the hike unless I gave him a bit of motivation." He indicated with his knife at her. "You're all the motivation he needs."

She snorted. "So you think that by worrying my family and friends you can entice Andrew to hike up here just before a storm hits? That seems a little melodramatic."

He came to his feet and raised his face to the cloud covered sky. Jamie watched as a crooked smile broke on his face, and his eyes gleamed with barely contained excitement. This was the Adam that she had feared when she first met him, and she was beginning to fear him even more now. She recognized that she was a part of something that could only grow worse if they stayed, and she hoped she could talk some sense into him. "Drama is good. Drama is great. What better way to leave than with an adoring audience?"

"This is crazy, Adam. I think we should head back down."

"No," he cried, lowering his gaze to her. "I've tried to talk to him, but we always end up arguing. I need you with me. We have to stick together."

"I don't like this. I'm a little concerned."

"Concerned?" His voice was low. "This has nothing to do with you. I only need you here to get Andrew's attention. This is between him and me."

It was Jamie's turn to regain her feet. Though they were sore from the punishing hike up the mountain, she closed the distance between them and placed her hand on his arm. She kept her voice low. "What's between you and him? Hasn't he been through enough already? Why are you scaring him unnecessarily?"

Adam stared down at her with curiously detached eyes. His lips twisted with undisguised disdain. "I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"Understand what?" Jamie cried. "Don't you see that this is all crazy? It makes no sense."

"It'll make sense soon enough. I'll explain everything once he gets up here."

"I want to talk to him. Where's your phone? Can you call him?"

Awareness suddenly dawned on his face, as though he had forgotten all about his vital piece of technology. He reached into one of the many side pockets of his backpack and pulled out the mobile phone, sliding the top and typing out a rapid message before walking back to the edge of the mountain and throwing the phone with all his might over the side.

"Wait! What are you doing?" Jamie cried, rushing to his side. She watched as the phone bounced on a rock a hundred feet down and landed in the thick desert brush below. Shivering slightly, she looked over at Adam again, her intent to remain calm and collected suddenly being overshadowed by the fear he was completely losing it.

He had been right. She did not understand.

"I won't need it anymore," he said in a deceptively calm voice.

They stood silently looking down at the where the phone had disappeared. Jamie's disquiet grew. Feeling a trembling start in her legs, she began to piece together that there was a very real danger approaching, and somehow, some way, she would have to use her head to get herself out of it.

### ***

Andrew pulled his phone from his pocket and stared at the message displayed on the screen. "Meet us at the Flatiron," was all it said.

Us. Though his instincts had told him that Jamie was with Adam, knowing he was right disappointed him more than he wanted to admit. He glanced up at the sky and frowned. The weather report had predicted a 30% chance of showers. In the desert, that meant chances were pretty good they would have rain.

"What?" Ford asked, glancing at him. He had just made the turn onto his grandmother's dirt road, but Andrew felt a greater sense of urgency. Now they had to beat the rain.

"Do you know when the storm's coming in?"

Ford shrugged. "No idea."

"We have to hurry. They're up the mountain."

"How will you get down if it starts to rain?"

"Exactly... We have to hurry." Andrew was out of Ford's truck before it came to a complete stop and jogging inside. Before his startled grandmother could respond, Andrew rushed to his room and grabbed a pack, calling out to Linda as he passed her in the hall. "I need water. Can you pack it up?"

Linda had pressed up against the wall when Andrew rushed by but came to stand just outside his door. "What's going on?"

"Adam and Jamie are up on the mountain. I have to get up there."

"But it's going to rain," Linda said in dismay.

"Which is why I'm hurrying."

"I'll get you some," she said. "Can't you just call him?"

"I've tried. He must have left his phone behind."

"But he packed up everything this morning. He said he had to leave to fix some things."

Andrew felt a chill go down his back. Maybe he had actually called the detective himself. Suddenly, his trip up the mountain with Jamie took on a more serious bent, that of a man who was desperate. Desperate men were dangerous men, and Andrew feared Adam's state of mind already. Seeing the concern on Linda's face, he patted her shoulder. "I'll get them. We'll be home before the rain."

She smiled tremulously. "I'll pack you some food, just in case." She turned to leave but turned back. "Dress warm. The temperature's dropping already."

With record speed, Andrew managed to pack up warm clothes for Jamie in case she was not wearing the proper garb and a tarp and rain gear in case they were trapped above the Basin. Only one thought continued to run through his head. Get up there and stop whatever it was Adam was planning.

When he returned to the kitchen, Andrew scooped up the water and food that Linda had hurriedly packed for them. She helped him stuff everything in his overloaded pack before reaching for his arm and giving him a nervous squeeze.

"Linda, you're amazing," he said with a lopsided grin.

"Just make sure they're okay," Grandma said in a low voice.

He glanced over his shoulder and spotted her in her chair, gripping the hand wheels tightly. "I'll get them down, Grandma. Don't worry."

"It's not you I worry about." Their eyes met and communicated what they both feared. It was the very thing he had been accused of when he was sent to prison. The stress becoming so overwhelming that the soldiers cracked. The sadness in Grandma's eyes nearly broke his heart, but ever the pinnacle of strength she took a deep breath and smiled bravely. "I'll be expecting you for dinner at six."

Turning away from the tears of hopelessness she struggled to hold back, Andrew strode to the door. His own voice broke as he pulled the slider open. "I'll bring him home, Grandma."

What he did not say, and what both women noticed, was that he did not say how.

Ford had managed to collect Bruno and Tabasco and was in the process of tightening Bruno's girth when Andrew entered the barn. Tabasco's saddle was resting on the stall door, but Andrew ignored it. "I don't need a saddle," he said reaching for the lead.

Ford nodded and gave the cinch one last tug before gathering up Bruno's lead and deftly tying it into a set of reins. After hiking his backpack high on his hips, Andrew did the same and then swung effortlessly onto Tabasco's back. Ford watched with a grimace. "I hope you don't expect me to be that svelte."

Andrew glanced down at him. "I just expect you to keep your seat."

Ford nodded. "I think I can do that."

Though slower in mounting, Andrew noticed that Ford seemed to have a good seat. With a quick nod, he spun Tabasco around and sent him off toward the trail, keeping steady control as the horse skittered sideways and shook his head to express his displeasure at leaving the safety of his pen. Once he had full control of Tabasco, he sent a quick glance behind him. Ford was doing well on Bruno, despite their hurried pace. Feeling more secure in Ford's skill, he took the opportunity to run his plan by him. He knew that Ford would balk at his suggestion, but he hoped Jamie's brother would find it possible to trust him. No one knew Adam better than him, and no one cared more about Jamie's safety. He hoped Ford could see that.

"We won't be able to take the horses all the way up. It's too dangerous and too vertical. I'm going to get us as far as we can, but then I'd like you to bring these two back for me. Would you do that?"

"Hell, no."

As he expected, Ford was adamant. He took a deep breath and pulled on his reserves of patience. "I can move a lot faster alone."

"That's my sister up there."

"She's with my brother."

"Who you just told me may be having a breakdown."

"He won't hurt Jamie."

Even as he spoke, Andrew felt doubts of his own. In truth, he really did not know what Adam was capable of doing or why he was even doing what he was. That was what he needed to do first. He needed to get inside Adam's head. Unfortunately, what he saw scared him to death.

"You sure of that?" Ford asked. "Can you promise me that?"

Andrew faced front again as he considered how to best answer him. They were just beginning to enter the draw, Tabasco's surefootedness finding his way through the rough trail with ease. Nevertheless, he drew him up to a brisk walk rather than the quick trot they had been pacing up until then.

"I can promise you that I'll do everything I can to get them both down safely. But if we both go up there, I can't guarantee anything. If you can trust me to take care of her, it would be best if you stayed down here. If we're trapped up there for the night, you may need to call in the rescue to get us down. It floods during storms. We won't be able to make the hike down without being swept away."

One more look behind him showed him that he was finally reaching Ford. The other man nodded reluctantly. "Fine... Just promise me you'll take care of Jamie."

"You have my word."

Going as far as they could, Andrew dismounted and stared up at the Flatiron above. He still had at least an hour of hiking to go, longer if the rain started. Glancing at the sky, he assumed he could make it. Off in the distance, he spotted signs of virga, rain that evaporated before reaching the ground, but it was to the north by Fountain Hills. Further south, the desert would hold off on rain until the air was oversaturated.

He handed Tabasco's reins to Ford and rubbed his horse's neck. "Do you think you can handle them both for the ride back?"

"If I go slow enough."

"Don't let him pull on you. He has a habit of jerking his head to pull out of your hand."

"Got it."

Adjusting his pack, Andrew turned to go. He began heading off at a quick jog when Ford called out one last time. "Hey!"

Andrew turned back with one brow raised.

"Remember your training, Andrew."

Nodding once, Andrew turned again and set off at a steady jog. He knew that Adam was watching him, could feel his gaze burning on the top of his head. Whatever it was that his brother had planned, he was playing right into his hands. Oh yes, he would remember his training, for better or for worse.

### ***

"I knew it! He rode over... See Jamie? I told you he'd be here. He doesn't know how to be selfish."

Jamie crossed the wide expanse and went as close to the edge as she could. Being so near to the side of a sheer cliff took her breath away, but it did not seem to faze Adam at all. He stood at the very edge on a rock, his binoculars pressed against his eyes watching the speck that was Andrew approaching at a rapid pace. She watched his approach in admiration, wishing she was in tiptop shape like these two men apparently were. His steps never faltered, despite the steep incline.

"Okay, so he's on his way up. Now what?"

"We have to wait for him to come." Adam lowered the binoculars and stared at her. "Relax. It'll be over soon."

"That's what scares me." She reached for his arm and gripped him tightly. Noticing how the muscles under her hand tensed reflexively, she looked up into his eyes knowing she had his full attention. "Promise me you're not going to try to hurt him."

"Hurt Andrew? I'm not going to hurt Andrew," he said incredulously.

His eyes were clear when he answered, so she released him with a sigh of relief. Making her way back to their dwindling fire, she sat back down and put her hands over her face. She was starting to feel the bite of the wind through the sweatshirt Adam had given her, and her fingers were cool against the warm skin of her cheeks. Though she was eager to see Andrew, the misgivings she had felt earlier would not leave her. She was confused about the entire situation she had put herself in, and Adam was not in the mood to enlighten her. Every time she asked, all she would receive for an answer was a simple "just wait." So she waited.

Though still confused about Adam's plan, she hoped it was just a ploy to get Andrew's attention. As he had promised, Adam had not hurt her. In fact, he was ever conscious of her comfort, stoking the fire, offering her what meager food he had with him, and promising her she would be safe.

Now seeming calm again, Jamie watched as Adam strode back to her. The way he moved was a very familiar sight to her. In looks and build, he was so similar to Andrew – tall and darkly handsome, with straight noses over deep-set, pale-brown eyes. However, the similarities were superficial, especially at that moment. As Andrew continued his hasty approach, Adam's movements had become erratic again, and he began muttering to himself as he wandered back and forth across the flat expanse. When he returned, he grabbed his binoculars and went to the side again. That was when the first drop of rain hit.

The rain came on quickly. First she felt a single drop on her hand. When she lifted it to see what had struck her, a sudden barrage of drops began falling on her head. The raindrop dripped over her hand and onto the ground, joining a multitude of others that began a drumbeat of danger.

She heard Adam's swear just as she came to her feet. "Okay, Adam, I think I've had enough. We need to get down now."

"We can't leave." Holding his binoculars to his eyes again, he swore even louder.

"What?"

"I can't believe it," he shouted. "He just turned around."

Hoping she could finally talk some sense into him, Jamie spoke in a low, calm voice, using every bit of persuasion she could. "He probably feels the same way I do, Adam. It's too dangerous to hang out up here with a storm coming. We don't have any shelter."

"This wasn't supposed to happen... I need to finish this!"

The binoculars lowered long enough for him to hit his forehead with them several times. She frowned. Things were not working out the way he planned, but she never expected him to take it so harshly. She swallowed hard and watched him warily. He suddenly appeared frightened and confused, but when he turned away from the trail his face had regained its determined set.

"Forget it. I can just do it myself," he muttered.

"Do what?"

He stalked off again, back to his pack. She watched as he jerked the zippers open in irritation, pulling out a beige folded tarp and some collapsible poles. Having no other choice, she joined him by the fire and glanced down.

"Why don't we just start heading back? It's not raining hard."

"It will be in a minute. I've got to set up your shelter. You're stuck up here until the water runs off, or someone comes to help you down."

She noticed how he mentioned just her and frowned. "Where are you going?"

"I'm not going anywhere," he said firmly.

Returning his attention to the poles, he hastily erected a sort of lean-to, with the back blocking the wind, and the front leaning over the fire pit. The efficiency with which he worked was impressive, and though she wanted to offer to help, she knew it would be futile.

"This should keep you fairly dry. The rock is elevated and slopes off the sides. That'll keep the rain away. It's a good campsite..." He stared down at it and then nodded. "I've got to find some more dry fuel. Wait here."

Spreading the sleeping bag down on the smooth rock, he tossed the pack in and then indicated with his hand that she should follow. With a resigned huff, she ducked and went under the tarp, a part of her happy to escape the rain while the other part of her wished they were heading down.

When Adam saw her frustration, he shook his head and explained. Though he had been varying between excitement and an unexplained tension, his voice was calm and matter-of-fact, almost completely lucid. "The water will make its way down the canyon we climbed. There's no way we can leave yet. It'll be slippery, and we'll break bones."

Jamie hated that he was right. "Isn't there another way?"

He sighed impatiently. "Unless you want to jump over the side, no. We have to wait it out."

Grasping for anything at all that could put an end to their crazy situation, Jamie sent him a pleading look. "What about the ridgeline? Surely there's another trail."

"It's just as steep, Jamie." He sighed in frustration. "Just stop arguing and stay here."

"Maybe we should call for help. We're not exactly prepared for bad weather up here."

"I need to think... Just give me time to think."

Realizing that he had not prepared for the current developments and was now dealing with his own doubts increased Jamie's panic. Andrew was not coming up; he had turned back, and that meant she was on her own. However, that did not mean she would have to stay, and she planned to go now while she still had a chance. "I'm sorry, but I can't do this with you anymore. I don't know what's going on, but this has gone beyond creepy to outright dangerous. I'm leaving now."

Turning on her heel, she ducked under the top of the tarp and began to walk away. Surprisingly, Adam did not respond, but no sooner had she traveled twenty yards than a loud crack broke the soft pitter patter of the rain. She jumped as a tuft of dirt alongside the trail exploded outward. Disbelief and panic caused her to spin around with wide eyes.

"You have a gun? Why do you have a gun?" Jamie shrieked in disbelief.

The gun that had magically appeared in his hand was now leveled on her. Knowing his skill with a firearm, she froze and waited for his next response. His voice was deceptively calm when he spoke. "You can't go down alone. I'm sorry, but it's for your own good."

Heart thundering in her chest, she took a step forward. However, tears now formed in her eyes, tears of fear and desperation. "Please, Adam."

Scowling at the sight of her distress, he stormed off to collect more kindling for the fire. There was a stand of pine trees back down the trail, and she could hear him snapping branches just out of her line of sight. For a moment, she considered making a run for it, but as she prepared to go she saw him coming back with more kindling in his arms. He dumped his load at her feet, just under the tip of the tarp. The wind had picked up, and the back of the shelter blew in the wind. Though feeling the chill, at least she was dry. For how long remained to be seen.

She sighed in frustration. "All right. It's time for you to tell me what's really going on. Did you bring me up here to hurt me?"

Adam chuckled, the sound deep and eerie to her oversensitive ears. Pulling a hunting knife from his boot, he began trimming the branches he had carried over with a violence that sent shivers down her spine. As he made short work of the dead branches, he glanced at her. "I had a plan, Jamie. It didn't have to involve you, but you calm him down, and I needed to get Andrew's attention. I wanted you here so I could talk to him reasonably before this all ended."

Jamie shook her head in confusion. "What ended?"

"I didn't expect him to scare off by a little rain. He's normally tougher than that."

"He's just being smart," Jamie said defensively, though she was curious about his sudden change as well. "It won't do either of us any good if he gets trapped up here or hurt trying to get meet us... Why are we here?"

"I wanted to come up here one last time. I wanted to end things right here... Andrew and I used to come a lot when we were little. I wanted to come clean before I left."

"Then why a gun?"

"Just in case."

"In case of what?"

Poking at the fire he had rebuilt with a piece of wood, Adam seemed to completely disconnect from her presence. His eyes took on a faraway look and his foot began its rapid tattoo that she was growing more familiar with. The rain was coming down steadily now, and the landscape around them took on a slippery appearance. She knew that her chances of making it down now were fairly slim. All along, Adam had been right.

Knowing that they were stuck for the time being, she reached for the block of cheese Adam had brought up with him and broke off a piece. As she chewed, Adam leaned back and rested his head on his hands. She watched as he closed his eyes.

"I'm not right," he said softly. "I know that; Andrew knows that."

"Andrew will help you with whatever you need."

"That's just it. I can't be a burden anymore. This was going to be my last stand before I removed myself from his life forever."

Jamie frowned down at him. "Why would you want to do that? He's your brother; he loves you."

Adam scowled at the reminder. "I'm done talking. I'm going to rest a bit and decide what to do next. You may as well chill."

Jamie knew there was no chance of her resting up on a campsite that she had no wish to be at, but she leaned back on Adam's pack and closed her eyes. Though she had not intended on falling asleep, a sudden rumble of thunder and the heavy pattering of rain startled Jamie awake. Not wearing a watch, she could not tell how much time had passed, but the sky had grown darker since she last opened her eyes, and Adam was snoring softly on the other side of the tarp. Smoke from the moist fire had blown under the tarp, and the air was ripe with the smell of burning wood. She scrunched her nose and leaned her head out of the tarp, ignoring the rain that instantly drenched her head.

The irony of her day suddenly seemed all the more dangerous to her. She was trapped at the top of a mountain in the middle of a winter storm. The air had cooled even more, and they had only a tarp to protect them from the elements. Her companion was a man on the edge, now sporting a gun to make sure she did not run off.

The gun.

With Adam acting sporadically and nervous, she concluded that it would be better for both of them if she got rid of the gun. Her gaze swiveled over to Adam's prone form. Both hands were still behind his head, and a low snore continued with each rise and fall of his chest. This would be her only opportunity to grab the weapon where it rested by his hip. If she tossed it over the side like he did with the phone, the chances of someone getting hurt would decrease dramatically.

Though shaking with fear, Jamie leaned across the expanse and placed her fingers gently over the butt of the gun. Her knowledge of weapons was limited. About the only thing she knew was how to engage the safety. However, taking command of the firearm was a risk she was willing to take.

She did not count on startling a high-strung man.

No sooner had she pulled the weapon toward her than Adam awoke with a sharp cry and grabbed her hand. She realized her mistake too late. It happened fast, for before she could blink he was on her. Hastier than she would have imagined, she was thrown backward, and her hand twisted painfully. With a panicked cry, she realized that her finger had slipped through the trigger hole, and just as Adam wrenched the gun from her hand she heard a blast.

Her first thought was of the safety. Why wasn't the safety on?

Then a burning sensation sliced through her arm, followed almost simultaneously by pain, pain so great that her terrified gaze met Adam's equally panicked stare, and she let out a sharp cry that sent him flying off her with a muffled swear. Jumping to his feet, the gun dangling from his hand, he stared down at her, aghast.

"What were you thinking?" Adam gasped.

Too stunned to move, her mouth fell open as her hand went to her arm. When she lifted it, she saw blood. With wide eyes, she met his gaze. "Oh Adam... you shot me."

"Jesus, Jamie. Why did you do that?"

He stumbled backwards and tripped on a rock. Seizing the opportunity, Jamie scrambled to her feet and lunged past him, blindly running into the cover of the thick fog and ignoring his pleas for her to return.

### Chapter 21

Exhausted, legs screaming with pain and hands scratched and bleeding from the slippery and reckless climb up the wash, Andrew saw the broad expanse of the Flatiron directly ahead. His pack felt as though it weighed twice as much as he did, and the rain had soaked his clothing so much that his jeans were now stiff and unyielding. However, he was driven by more than his discomfort. Knowing Jamie and Adam, the two people he cared about most, were up ahead was enough to keep him going.

Low clouds were moving in from the north, and the backside of the ridgeline was already engulfed in a thick bank. He topped the final rise and saw the Flatiron spread out before him. Scanning the horizon briefly, his gaze searched for his brother and Jamie. The wind whipped the heavy rain into his eyes, and the cloud cover was thick and gray, blurring his vision and making it difficult to see far.

However, the sudden sound of a cry followed by the sharp retort of a gun spurred Andrew into action. With a muffled roar, he ran in the direction of the shot, eventually finding Adam standing several feet from a tarp and smoldering fire with his handgun dangling from his hand. Too busy scanning the horizon, he did not see Andrew until he dove upon him. Without thinking, Andrew tackled Adam to the ground and slammed his hand against the rock in one swift move. Startled by the sudden attack, Adam lost his tenuous grip on the gun, and it bounced off their small ledge into the saturated dirt. Nevertheless, his surprise did not last long. Though Andrew's pack and soggy clothes had given him more velocity behind his attack, it soon became a liability under an equal opponent.

With surprising speed, Adam threw Andrew off him. Weighed down by wet clothing and the heavy pack, Andrew had no choice but to follow. His brother landed two punches to Andrew's face before jumping off him and scrambling for the gun. As soon as his hand closed around the grip, he took several more steps back to increase the distance between them. Leveling the barrel at Andrew's chest, he continued to back away cautiously.

"I saw you turn around," Adam said accusingly.

Andrew sat up slowly, shrugging off his pack as he regained his footing. Holding his hands out cautiously, he chanced a quick glance behind him. From his vantage point, he could not see inside the tarp, but the lack of movement did not bode well.

"I had to find a different route," he said evenly. "Where's Jamie?"

Adam continued to back away, and Andrew followed him step for step despite the gun leveled at his chest. Adam watched his approach, his eyes wide with panic and fear. "It was an accident, Andrew. It was all one big giant accident. I just lost control... I never meant to hurt any of them."

"I don't understand." Andrew's panic grew. "What did you do?"

Adam continued backing away, growing closer to the ledge. He stumbled on a rock, nearly losing his footing, but caught himself and continued to move away. Andrew's heart was pounding, from exhaustion and fear. Both mingled in his breath until he called out in anguish.

"Adam! What did you do?"

"This is why I wanted you up here. I wanted to tell you everything."

"I'm here. Now calm down and talk to me, for Christ's sakes." Though he never took his eyes from his frightened and unpredictable brother, Andrew's ears strained to hear for signs of Jamie. The sound of the rain was all he heard, and his fear grew.

"You've always taken care of me, and I never gave you enough credit. Ever. But I know what you did for me. No brother should've done the things you did. You knew I wasn't right, all along. You thought the military would help me, but I didn't stop. I couldn't stop."

Though Andrew continued to advance on Adam, he gave in and turned his head in the direction of the tarp. That shot he heard. It could not be. There was no movement inside, no sign of Jamie. Panic fueled his steps, and he rushed Adam with no regard for the gun in his hand. Grabbing his collar, he pulled him forward. "What happened here?"

Adam did not struggle, but he still kept his grip on the gun. Pressing it to his temple, he smiled briefly. "It was all a ploy to make sure you came up here. I couldn't let you try to take the blame for this and needed a witness. You can't take the blame for me anymore."

Andrew reached for the gun, but Adam spun away gracefully. He jumped back several more feet. Coming to a stop perilously close to the edge, he stared at Andrew.

"Blame? What blame?"

"What happened in Georgia, Kit, now Jamie... but you knew that already, didn't you? You've always known, even when you didn't want to admit it."

Andrew could not answer. In his heart, he thought he must have known, but always putting his brother first, he could not admit it – not even to himself. The detectives who reopened the case were wrong. All along, they had been barking up the wrong tree.

"You did know, didn't you? You put it all together when you were in prison."

Andrew shook his head. "No... it's not true."

Adam swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly. Rain ran down his face and onto his neck, and Andrew noticed he was shivering with the cold. "It is, Andrew. I'm sorry."

"You really let me go..." Unable to finish the thought that had tortured him and was now suddenly truth, Andrew bit back the horrible feeling of betrayal and rage.

"I was scared."

"Scared?" Andrew croaked painfully. "You did these horrible things and let me pay the price for it because you were scared?"

"It was an accident, Andrew. I never meant to hurt her."

Confused at the sudden change of subject, Andrew bit back his fury. "Hurt who?"

"Jamie... She reached for the gun, and it went off."

Before he could even finish his sentence, Andrew had spun with the intent of seeing for himself what had happened. No sooner had he taken two steps than Adam was calling him back. "It's done, bro. You're free. You have your whole life ahead of you, and you don't have to worry about me anymore."

Andrew paused and glanced over his shoulder, rage replacing the panic in his heart. "Is she..." He could not speak the words. Feeling as though a knife had pierced his breast, he swallowed hard. The pain was overwhelming, stealing his breath and making words difficult to speak. His voice shook with the weight of all the emotions he had refused to feel for years: agony, horror, despair. His heart was breaking in two. "Adam, did you kill her?"

"I don't think so."

It was all too much. With a muffled cry, Andrew felt his knees buckle. He fell to his knees and looked up at his brother. "Why, Adam? Oh God, why?"

"I fucked up," Adam said, shaking his head. Tears joined the rain running down his face, and the gun slowly lowered to his side. "I've ruined everything for you because of my own cowardice. One damn thing after another. I stole your life, and you never once complained. You always took it. The beatings, the jail time... You really were the man of the house, and I failed. I can't do this to you anymore. I'll never be as good as you."

"It's too late," Andrew said in a choked voice. "You've already done these things. You can't take them back now."

Adam nodded. "I know. I've got to stop this – end it. I'm broken, and there's only one way to fix it now."

He glanced behind him to the edge of the cliff. The rain pounded them both, and a cloud cover had rolled in, enveloping them in a thick mist. As Andrew struggled to breathe, Adam turned around and faced the edge, a misty form as shadowed as a specter.

"I love you, Andrew."

Then he was gone.

Andrew saw his intentions mirrored in his eyes just before he took that final step. With a startled cry, his instincts took over, and he lunged just as Adam went over the edge, managing to catch hold of Adam's collar. Adam's gurgling matched Andrew's wounded groan. White hot pain shot up his arm as he caught his brother's full weight, and he slid several feet toward the edge until his free hand was able to grasp a protruding rock.

An eerie silence fell as Andrew adjusted his balance to prevent himself from following his brother over the edge. His arm and shoulder screamed in agony, the pain forcing his muscles to contract and seize in a vice of anguish nearly as overpowering as the one around his heart. Trying to catch his breath, he glanced over the edge.

"This is not the way to handle it," Andrew ground out painfully. He held with all his might, fighting back the urge to let his brother fall to his death. Though still reeling from the confession, he held tight.

Despite the mist around them, Andrew could see a ledge slightly to their right and only thirty-feet down. If he could make it, Adam would suffer broken bones but at least live. Gritting his teeth against the agony in his heart and arm, he tightened his grip.

"Adam, grab my arm."

Adam refused to move. He was struggling to breathe, the collar pulled tight around his neck.

"Adam, please! You need to grab my arm. I can't... I can't hold you."

"Let... me... go," Adam wheezed through clenched teeth.

"No! You grab my arm – grab it!"

Adam's hands suddenly came up and wrapped around Andrew's wrist. Andrew groaned as his brother's full weight shifted, and he ground his teeth tight against the pain.

Pain.

He knew pain. For so long, he had stuffed it down, refused to acknowledge it, held it deep within so that he would not feel anything. But now he knew it from the inside out because Jamie had thawed him. With her gentle touch and loving smile, she had awakened his sleeping emotions, and right now he could not determine which pain was worse – his brother's weight or the cracking of his heart.

A surge of adrenalin met his determination, and with his newfound strength, he began to swing his brother. Adam stared up at him, his eyes half closed against the pouring rain. His grip was tenuous since the rain made Adam's skin slippery and Andrew's sweatshirt soggy. Andrew met Adam's eyes. Unspoken words passed between them. Then finally understanding.

"Don't you let go, Adam," he pleaded, his voice breaking. "Please. We can talk about things, straighten all this out."

Adam smiled again. "You were the best brother a guy could have."

"Adam, please," he said softly. His eyes pleaded with his brother. "Please, don't let go."

"You know I need to do this. Remember Afghanistan. Remember Brad. It's mercy."

"No."

"Let go for Grandma. She can't go through this again."

Andrew paused. She never should have had to go through it the first time. Still, he could not let his brother go. It went against every fiber of his being. "Adam, no."

"I love you."

With that, Adam took matters into his own hands and released his grip.

He did not make a sound as he disappeared from sight. The only sound was Andrew's anguished cry, pleading for Adam.

Flashes of his brother: a two-year-old boy with a black eye, staring up at him adoringly; a frightened five-year-old with his arm in a cast, bravely facing down his mother's boyfriend, and climbing into bed with him and hugging him tight after a nightmare. They had cleaned each other's wounds following the drunken altercations with their mother's male friends. However, Adam had taken it hard. Yes, he knew how his brother was affected. Always the blame, no matter how hard Andrew tried to shield him, still tried to shield him. But it was not enough; it was too late. The demons that haunted his brother, the rage that consumed him after their childhood, had turned him into a monster that not even the military could control.

Rolling onto his back, Andrew ground his teeth together and eased his arm across his chest. Squeezing his eyes closed against the pain and the falling rain that mingled with his tears, he lay helplessly in the mud. The reality of Adam's declaration stunned and shocked him, and he was unable to comprehend it all. His brother was responsible for Kit's death... Oh God, his brother had taken her life. His brother's rage-filled face entered his mind, glowering and furious... Hands wrapped around a young girl's neck... Andrew shuddered, both from the cold and the scenes flashing through his mind.

In the blink of an eye, the happier memories rose: Adam smiling and laughing, riding on the handlebars of Andrew's bike; riding his horse Bulldog around the barrels as a strong and healthy ten-year-old; a sharp Army kid, graduating from basic training and moving on to advanced training, the AIT. Andrew forced his eyes open to block out the memories, but as he did so he realized the truth. Adam had broken.

Stumbling to his feet, his arm hanging lifelessly by his side, Andrew took one last look down. He was unable to see where Adam had landed, but the solid thump he heard was muffled enough to be barely audible. He did not think there was any way a ledge had broken his fall to the bottom.

A mercy killing, Adam had said. Perhaps it was, no matter how cowardly Adam had become.

"Oh God," he breathed.

Disbelief, shock and horror caused him to go numb, but his first thought was Jamie. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder and ribs, he stumbled back across the uneven surface to where he had found the campsite. Jamie was in there, though in what condition he was not sure. Not knowing if it was minutes or hours since he had first arrived on the plateau, he stumbled under the tarp and fell to his knees.

As his eyes gradually adjusted to the dimness in the tent, he saw the blood. Large drops and a smear upon a rock, but there was no sign of Jamie. Stumbling back to his feet, Andrew ran several feet and scanned what he could see through the dense clouds. There was no sign of Jamie anywhere. Ears straining, he struggled to listen over the sound of the rain in the hopes of hearing her movement. Where had she gone?

Knowing that she could not have gone past where he had just traveled, Andrew stumbled several steps in the other direction. His shoulder screamed with pain, but he knew one thing. He had to find her.

"Jamie!"

Heedless of the rain chilling him to the bone, he refused to believe that she had taken the same route down as Adam. He would have known. He would have felt it in his heart. She had to be around there somewhere. However, try as he might, he could not hear anything over the rain.

His voice broke when he called again. "Jamie!"

He had just lost his brother, but he would be damned before he lost Jamie. He would not give up hope. Not now, not ever. He would find her or die trying.

### ***

Jamie had run like she had never run before. Though blinded by rain and frightened half to death, she ran as though her life depended on it. In fact, she realized her life might very well depend on it. If Adam had shot her by accident, he may spook even more and try to finish the job. She had to get away – and fast. They had camped close to the edge of the Flatiron, so she ran for the trail to the ridgeline instead. She had seen it before the rain began to fall and now placed all of her hope that it would be safe enough to follow until she found a spot to hide and shelter her from the rain.

Though her legs were exhausted from the difficult climb to the top, she approached the steep group of rock formations before the trail with a sudden burst of adrenalin that gave her the strength to run for cover. One quick glance behind her revealed only a thick fog. There was no sign of Adam in pursuit. Snatching the brief respite, she paused and scanned the horizon. Her eyes landed on a rock outcrop above, shielded by a small stand of pine trees. The three trees were only four or five feet tall, but considering the chill and the rain, Jamie knew it was her best chance for shelter.

She had to get out of the weather. Already, the cold had made her fingers go numb, and her clothing was now soaked through. Her jeans clung to her legs, and her hair was plastered to her face in long, wet tendrils. The cold almost overpowered the burning pain in her upper arm, almost but not quite. She could still feel the hot blood trickling down the arm of her sweatshirt and realized that she needed to do something about bandaging that, too. A few more minutes out in this weather and she would be in trouble. She had to find shelter now.

Off in the distance, muted by the fog and the sound of the rain, she heard a call. It spurred her to move again, faster, away from the voice barely carrying in the wind. With the last of her strength, she scaled the slippery slope to the stand of trees. With her left arm useless, Jamie stumbled and fell to her knees several times, but she ignored the pain and pressed forward. She had to get somewhere safe.

Another call reached her ears, and she suddenly went still. The strength in her legs finally gave out, and she sank to the ground in the driest spot she could locate. She was shaking all over, from her teeth to her toes, and the pain in her arm was throbbing. Though not nearly as good a shelter as she had hoped, it protected her from the worst of the rain, and the higher location gave her a view of the Flatiron below. To her surprise, a tall figure emerged from the fog, still in shadow but unmistakably familiar. Blinking the rain away from her eyes, she reached up a hand and wiped them as dry as she could. Was she mistaken? Could it be?

### ***

Andrew made his way back to the trail, not sure which direction to start in. He had come down the trail from the north, and he knew from experience that only a sheer cliff lay to the south. He refused to go that way. There was no way she had gone over the edge. That left only the ridgeline trail. He headed that way, pausing at the intersection to call her name again.

This time, he received a response.

Heart leaping in his chest, Andrew struggled to place it. Though he could have imagined the sound of her voice, his instincts told him that it was Jamie calling his name.

"Andrew?"

He heard it again, and his eyes squinted as he looked up at the rocks rising jaggedly from the Flatiron floor. Andrew took off at a steady jog, his urgency driving him up the slope to the only spot she could possibly be hiding. The small stand of trees pressed against the rock face of the peak, and he scrambled up to find her huddled almost in a ball.

"Jamie," he breathed. He grasped her chin with his good hand and kissed her face all over. "Oh God, I thought I lost you."

She was pale. So very pale. Dropping to his knees before her, he noticed immediately that she was shivering violently. Relief surged through him, a feeling so overpowering that he could not stop himself from pulling her against his chest with his good arm. Though trembling uncontrollably, he felt her lean into him thankfully.

"How are you here?" Jamie asked raggedly.

"Where else would I be?"

"You shouldn't have come up here. You'll be trapped."

"I couldn't leave you here," he whispered.

He gripped her tightly, as tight as he could, relieved that she was safe. At least for the moment. He knew he had to get her out of the cold and into dry clothing. Getting her back to the shelter was his first priority. Adjusting his position, his arm lowered and grazed her arm. She inhaled sharply, and it was then that he noticed the blood. It was her blood he had seen on the rock.

He drew away. "What happened?"

She gripped his arm with her good hand. Her fingers were cold. "It was an accident. No matter what happens, please know that it was an accident. I grabbed for the gun, and it went off."

"He had a 9mm," he said more to himself than to her. Then he frowned at her. "You're lucky he didn't kill you. You never should've tried to disarm him."

"I know," she moaned. "Believe me, I learned my lesson. It hurts."

"I bet it does."

The look she gave him was slightly disoriented. He glanced down and saw the sweatshirt was almost saturated with blood, but she smiled at him wistfully. "I feel like I'm dreaming you. I saw you leave."

"I'm really here, Jamie." As much as he wanted to draw her into his arms and hug her tightly, he had to check her wound. "I need to look at your arm."

"No, don't. It hurts."

"That's why I need to look at it... I have to stop the bleeding. Then we need to get back down there and get you out of the rain."

She nodded reluctantly, and he set to work as quickly but gently as possible. Though she winced, she remained brave when he helped her remove her arm from Adam's oversized sweatshirt and eased her jacket off. She shivered even harder as the breeze hit her damp skin, and he hurried to get her covered again. Tearing a piece of his shirt free, he tied it around her arm as best he could with one hand and his teeth.

"It looks like it grazed your arm, but it's not a pretty sight," he said as he finished his makeshift bandage. Easing her wet clothing back over her arm, he lightly stroked her chin. "Nothing appears broken. Do you have any numbness or tingling?"

She shook her head. "No, it burns."

"You might have muscle damage, too." He sighed heavily, his shoulder throbbing painfully. "We need to get back down. Can you walk?"

Her fingers rose and covered his lips, stopping his conversation. "Where's Adam?"

Andrew swallowed painfully. His voice broke when he spoke. "Adam can't hurt you."

Jamie frowned, confused. "Is he okay?"

"No," he whispered. Understanding filled her gaze, and he watched the tears rise in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry."

He avoided her gaze, avoided looking into her eyes for fear he would lose it at any moment. "I need to call for help. My pack is down there. We have to go now."

Her hand fell away, and she nodded slowly. Just knowing that she was safe was all the motivation he needed to help her to her feet once more. Though his shoulder was surely dislocated and possibly broken, he was able to aid her back down the outcrop and back to the shelter. Once she was safely under the canopy of the tarp, he backed out in search of his pack. Hopefully, his phone was still functioning.

The cloud cover had thickened to a full blown fog, though the rain had eased to a light drizzle. The air was cold and stagnant, and he realized that he had started shivering as uncontrollably as Jamie was. He was soaked through, and the temperature had dropped dramatically. However, he could not think about that now. All that mattered was getting help to Jamie.

It took him several minutes to locate the spot where he had slipped out of the pack. It was sopping wet, but when he carried it back to the tarp and unzipped it, he realized that most of the items were still dry. His phone was one of them. He pulled it free and pressed the speed dial for Ford while covering Jamie with the excess clothing he brought. She managed to smile her thanks, but her lips had taken on a bluish tinge, and her eyes were glossed over.

A sharp ding echoed in his ear. Though working, the call did not go through. He looked at the sky and frowned.

Jamie shook her head. "Call failed?"

"The fog, I think." He stared at her. "I'm going to help you get undressed and into warm clothes. Then I'll try again while it blows over."

She shook her head. "I can manage. Can you hike down?"

"It's running off. I don't think I could make it." He did not tell her that he was pretty sure his shoulder was dislocated and virtually useless. The water rushing down the draw would surely kill him.

"You have to go. You have to get help for Adam."

He leaned over her again. He needed to touch her, to see that she was still breathing, still there with him. Pressing his lips to her forehead, he inhaled the scent of her and thanked the higher powers that were for returning her to him. "I'm not leaving you, Jamie."

An eerie silence fell around them, with only the sound of an occasional drip on the tarp. Feeling useless and frustrated, he glanced around the covered area, his gaze falling on the pile of kindling his brother had collected. "All right. You strip down. I'm going to try to start a new fire to warm it up in here. Then we can decide what to do. It may clear up a little faster than it would take me to get down."

Nodding weakly, she turned her face away and closed her eyes. "I'm so tired."

His hands paused in midair, and he stared at her over his shoulder. "That's the hypothermia setting in. Just try to stay awake. I'll warm you up in a minute."

Certain she was watching, he hurriedly organized and lit the fire with the remaining dry timber and Adam's lighter before returning his attention to what remained of Adam's pack. The wood was damp and smoky, but the heat that rose felt heavenly to his frozen skin. He found some dry clothes, which he immediately handed to Jamie. She had struggled and groaned a couple of times, but after several minutes with his help they had managed to pull on a dry pair of sweats and a new sweatshirt hung loosely over her shoulders. As he helped her put her good arm through the sleeve, he checked her makeshift bandage. Her skin was cool to the touch and slightly clammy, but luckily no blood had soaked through his compress. He hoped it had just been a superficial bleed and not something internal that had been nicked.

Though he knew it was dangerous for him to stay in his own soaked clothing, he could not bring himself to take any of the extra garments for himself until he was sure she was dry. Jamie was his priority now; he had to protect her. With her still shivering, he worried that the cold would harm her more than the bullet wound. Shock was a very real danger.

Watching him half-heartedly, she attempted a smile. Her voice sounded faint when she spoke, and it concerned him more than the wound itself. "I can't believe you really came all the way up here."

He blinked in surprise, wondering how she could have doubted he would leave her. "How could I not?"

"I love you, Andrew," she said with a soft sigh.

He leaned over her again and touched her cheek. Though he was not sure why she loved him, he did not doubt her words. Her love shone in her eyes, and he once more felt the emotion rising in his heart. Busying himself with removing her saturated and muddy clothing and laying them on in a pile as close he could get them to the fire, Andrew paused when her hand reached out to rest on his thigh.

"Kiss me, please?"

Her voice was fading, but he pressed his lips lightly over her face and gently over her lips. Once he started kissing her, stopping was not an option. Over and over again, he pressed his lips to her cold skin, loving the feel of her and the fact that she was there with him. When he finally raised his head again, her eyes were closed, those large dark orbs that always seemed to mesmerize him now hidden by her pale lids. He could see every small vein in the dim light under the tarp. How he loved her eyes. Hell, he loved her – more than anything in his small, shattered world.

Suddenly, it all made sense. His curse in life was to hold the best of the world in his hands, and then lose it all like some sort of eternal punishment similar to the suffering of Prometheus. Grasping his phone, he checked the bars and typed a text before pressing the send button. As he watched the phone do its work, he hoped with all his might that Ford would know what to do. The single word held what was left of his entire world in it.

"Help."

Gripping his phone in his hand, he waited. He waited and prayed for the best.

As he had predicted, the cloud cover moved off a lot faster than he would have made it down. In the distance, he could hear the water coursing through the Basin, and he knew then that leaving Jamie's side would have been tragic. He lay beside Jamie, gently stroking her hair and staring into her pale face as she slept. She was so beautiful that for the first time in years he felt the emotion overwhelm him. Lowering his face to the crook of Jamie's neck, he finally gave in to Jamie's request and sobbed. He allowed the tears to fall, embraced them, felt the emotion of the last ten years of his life rise in one long sob of pain. If she heard his anguish, she did not respond, and although he did not expect her to, he wished she could see that he finally had opened up.

Blazing hot tears dripped to the cold, damp rock beneath him as he lay in the growing darkness. As the minutes passed, he realized that he did not feel the discomfort of the chill any more. He had stopped shivering some time ago, leaving him with just the feel of Jamie. Soft and loving Jamie. He remembered the last time he heard her laugh. It mingled in his mind with that of Adam's laughter. Both of them happy and able to enjoy life in a way he had never been able to. Until he met her. Until she had saved him.

He had no urge to move, not even when he heard the low, deep rumble of the helicopter motor. Too weak and cold to rise, he did not even try to greet them. He could not leave her.

She had never left him.

### ***

A touch on the top of his head brought Andrew awake with a start. At first, the events came rushing back as though another of his night terrors, but when he sat up abruptly and swiveled in his chair, all the confusion and panic flooded back and mingled into one jumbled mess. Disoriented, he glanced around him. The room was dim, but he could see a light in the hallway beyond the partially closed door. It illuminated the foot of the metal bed, the off-white blankets, and the two legs underneath them. Turning slowly, his gaze followed the legs up to the monitors. The LCD display showed everything had stabilized, so his gaze continued to the prone woman in the bed.

Large brown eyes met his. They blinked, bewildered and muddled.

He gasped. Jamie was awake.

Her hand rested near where she had touched him. He wanted to grab it and press it against his lips over and over again, but he resisted the urge. The IV line was still attached in the crook of her elbow, and she was obviously groggy from the anesthesia they had given her prior to the surgery to repair the muscles in her arm. All he could do was gaze at her stupidly.

"You're awake," he whispered.

In answer, her hand went to his shoulder, which was encased in a sling. Her eyes questioned silently.

"I'll be okay," he said in an attempt to shrug it off. In fact, he would be out of commission for three-to-four months. "I'm fine."

Her look was skeptical.

"It's dislocated and my collarbone fractured, but I'm okay."

She nodded, but her brow crinkled sympathetically.

"Don't worry about me. You're the one who just had surgery."

Swallowing hard, she managed a slight shake of her head to dismiss his concern.

"How are you feeling?" Andrew glanced around anxiously. "Can I get you anything?"

She shook her head again and closed her eyes. After several minutes of silence, he feared she had fallen asleep again, but then she opened them again. Her voice was rough when she finally spoke. "Adam?"

Reaching for the water resting on the tray beside her, he pressed it to her lips and waited while she took a sip. As he did so, he opened his mouth to answer even though no sound escaped. While he struggled to find the words, a tear slipped free from his eye. Tears of relief, joy, hope, and most especially sadness over losing the brother he had loved. Everything seemed to have crumbled with Adam's devastating final admission.

"Oh, Andrew," Jamie whispered.

Her fingers were gentle when she wiped the tear away. However, more followed, so many that she could not keep up. He allowed them free rein; he did not care that he was crying like a child. Replacing the water on the tray, he offered her a definitive shake of his head instead.

Jamie was there. She was with him. He had everything he needed, so why did his heart crack so painfully? "Adam confessed before he..." His voice trailed off before he could say the words.

"No." Jamie's eyes drifted closed. Evidently, she remembered the police crowded in the emergency room eager to speak with him once they were safely off the mountain. Things had happened so quickly once they were rescued, and they had rushed Jamie off before he had a chance to speak to her. He had no idea what she had heard, seen or even understood at that time.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Andrew thought about the past 24-hours as though he were in a dream. After they had been taken off the mountain, he had gone through long hours of explaining and answering questions despite the pain in his arm and worry for Jamie. By the time Adam's body had been retrieved, Darren had joined him and immediately his loyal lawyer stepped up on his behalf. His relief from the interrogators was short lived, for then Grandma had arrived. A shudder went through him as he remembered her heartbroken sobs when she greeted him at the hospital. The devastation his brother had brought to his family made his death feel even more selfish. As he had feared, everything had fallen apart in a blink of an eye, but Andrew was determined to put it right once and for all.

"Jamie, I'm sorry – for everything," he blurted out suddenly. Aware that he was still crying, and his voice cracked as he spoke, he pushed through the awkwardness and hesitation to reveal himself fully. "I'll understand if it's too much for you. I've brought you so much trouble."

"Shush." She shook her head and once more pressed her fingers to his lips to prevent him from speaking more. "Don't say that... You know how I feel about you. Nothing's changed that."

He wanted to believe, but he also knew she needed to understand the truth. "It was Adam."

"I know. I remember." Moving her hand to cup his cheek, her eyes were earnest when she spoke. "That doesn't matter to me. In my eyes, it's all over."

"God, Jamie, when I got his text, all I could think about was getting up there. Then I couldn't find you... I thought I'd lost you."

She shook her head slightly. "Never. I'm not leaving you – ever."

"When Adam told me everything, I thought I'd never have the chance to tell you how much I love you, Jamie. You need to know, and I need to say it out loud like I've been afraid to until now. I love you. You are my heart and soul. You mean everything to me."

"I do know," she whispered.

Her own tears began to spill through her lashes. Afraid to touch her, he allowed them to fall. With amazing strength, her hand captured his in a tight grip.

"What Adam did is not your fault," she said firmly. "He told me that he owed you so much. He also told me how you protected him all his life... Andrew, you are such a hero."

Her words did little to raise his spirits, but he wanted them to. God, how he wanted them to. "So much has happened... I've been living my life in a fog. I don't want to do that anymore. I need to live again, Jamie. I need to remember how to laugh. You make me want to do that."

"I'm happy to hear that."

Even though he was aware that he was gushing like a child, now that he had started speaking he found that he could not stop. "You've come to mean so much more to me than the woman who showed such bravery and honesty when she helped free me from prison. You're a part of my life. I don't ever want to lose you, Jamie. I'll do anything to make you happy. I love you so much."

When his voice broke a second time, he stopped and pressed her hand to his lips. In her eyes, he saw the truth of her words. She really did believe he was a hero, and the love that shone through her pain and discomfort made his heart soar.

"I love you, Andrew Sheehan, and all I want from you right now is a smile. Will you smile for me?"

Confused by her words, he frowned instead. "A smile?"

"Yes, a smile. A real one," she whispered. "We're safe, Andrew. It's over. We have the rest of our lives ahead of us. Right now, all I want from you is a smile. Just one, and then we can grieve for Adam and what he did."

With every ounce of energy that he possessed, Andrew proved that he would do anything for her. Though his lips trembled slightly, Jamie's wide grin eased his discomfort and forced away some of his angst.

"You're right," he whispered. "That's why I love you as much as I do."

"Andrew, all I can say is..." Her voice trailed off as the sound of her brother's echoed out in the hall. Their private time was nearly over. Yet, her smile remained as her eyes drifted closed wearily, that faint curvature of the lips that he never grew tired of kissing.

"What?"

When her eyes opened, they were glowing. "It's about time."

Though the words could be taken in many ways, he knew exactly what she meant. After everything that had happened, after all the trauma he had seen and lived through, he had finally opened to her. Coming to his feet, he stood above her and kissed her forehead then her lips before turning to the door to face the onslaught of her worried family.

"You're right, Jamie," he said with a heavy sigh. "It _is_ about time."

While he may have lost most of his family, he had gained a new one in the form of the Evans clan. The weary concern was reflected on the four faces in multiple ways but also so similarly. It was obvious they cared, and each and every one of them approached him first with heartfelt thanks for taking care of their little sister. There was acceptance in their voices and in the hearty pats on the back they gave him.

As he watched them crowd around Jamie, Andrew realized that she was right all along. They had their entire lives ahead of them. The past was over; the deed was done. While he would always have the memories and perhaps the scars, he did not need to allow it to run his life. It was time for him to put all the horror behind him and start living again. From this point on, he could move forward and live the life he had always wanted. He had the support of the Evans family, and they were giving him the strength to dream again.

While Jamie bravely greeted the new arrivals, Andrew remembered a simple sentence she had said to him during their first encounter. She had lightheartedly told him then that if it was meant to be, it would have been. After all of his pain over the years since those first few words, he had finally come to a conclusion. As far as he was concerned, it was meant to be. Against all odds, she had returned to him, and he had been given another chance. Another chance at life, and another chance to find happiness. Perhaps his trials and Adam's betrayal were all a part of life's greater purpose for him after all.

If it was meant to be, it would have been.

He smiled down at her again. A true smile. And she stared up at him with one just as real. Though all four Evans brothers were waiting for their turn to gain her attention, she had eyes only for him. The woman whose hand clung to his tightly was everything he needed now, and their future was a blank slate just waiting to be written upon. This time, Andrew intended to make every moment count.

### The End

### Coming February 14, 2012

### Through Winter Skies

### The Evans Family, Book Two

One evening changes two lives:

Ten years ago, a home invasion nearly took the life of a 15 year-old-girl, and Zachary Evans became an inadvertent hero. Following the traumatic experience, Zachary continued on to pursue a career with the FBI in the hopes of controlling the criminals who appear as quickly as he puts them away.

The past cannot be denied:

Content with a solitary life, suddenly a new case drops on his desk. One case starts it all, a continuation of the events from ten years ago that still haunt his dreams. A murder in prison followed by a break-out sends Zachary in a desperate search for his childhood friend. Knowing that the escapees still believe her to have something they want, it is a race to find her before they do.

Emotionally and physically scarred following her experience, Emery Flores disappeared into the mountains of Colorado, becoming a reclusive but successful artist with a purpose. Wanting just to be left alone, she is shocked when a face from her past appears at her door moments before a spring storm hits. With news she does not want to hear, Emery is reluctantly thrown back to events she would rather deny.

Everything happens for a reason:

Trapped together during a mountain snowstorm, Zach and Emery are forced to confront the trials that shaped them as adults and in the process renew their bond. As man and woman, they find their connection goes much deeper than they thought and long buried feelings re-emerge. But still the danger is lurking, and Zach finds out that it extends beyond Emery's case. With ties to a human and drug smuggling ring that claimed the life of a police officer, Zach realizes that Emery may just be the key to blowing the case wide open. The question remains: can he risk her, the woman he loves, for justice?

About the Author

΅

Always composing stories in her head, Collette began her first novel at the age of eight. Since then, she has obtained her bachelor's degree in English literature and master's degree in education while squeezing in her writing whenever she can. _If We Dare to Dream_ is Collette's third novel and the beginning of the highly-anticipated Evans Family series. The New England native now resides in Arizona with her husband, three children and multiple family pets.

For more information visit: http://www.collettescott.com

Collette's page on Smashwords

Facebook page: ColletteScott

Twitter: @collettescott

