A Bridge Unbroken (A Miller's Creek Novel) (25 page)

The words knifed into him. No wonder she'd changed her name. No wonder she'd run away at the prospect of talking to the police. "What for?"

"Theft."

She'd mentioned her past experience with drugs. Had she stolen to buy them? "So if she's found, what happens?"

"She'll be taken into custody and returned to the location of the crime for arraignment."

The news knifed through his heart, and he closed his eyes. So even if Dakota did come back, it wouldn't be for long.

Carter stepped closer and laid a hand on his shoulder. "You okay?"

Still in a daze, Chance shrugged. "Don't know. A lot of stuff in my head right now." And his heart.

"Just 'cause there's an APB doesn't mean she's guilty."

Carter's comment rained soothing balm on his soul. He sent the tall policeman a half-smile.

"We'll keep you posted." Carter patted his arm and headed back to the car, Ernie right behind him.

Downey was replacing the cover on the electrical panel when Chance entered the kitchen to put the eggs away. "Just finished the panel."

"Good." Once the electrician was gone, he'd be able to finish his work without further interruption. A few minutes later, Chance hauled the new door up the front porch, just as Matt's Suburban rounded the driveway corner. His friend hopped from the vehicle, the typical laid-back smile on his face.

"Weren't you just here?"

Matt sauntered up the steps, his hand extended. "Trying to get rid of me already?"

"No, but I might just put you to work."

Matt stepped back, both hands in the air. "Just remembered an appointment."

The two laughed, then Matt's face sobered. "Actually, I came out to see how you're doing."

"Been better, but I'm okay." Chance leaned against the house and crossed his arms.

"Glad to hear it. Still no word?"

"They still haven't found her, but I do have some news." He relayed what Carter and Ernie had told him earlier.

"I can't tell you what Dakota told me about her past, Chance, but I can tell you this. She's a good person with powerful enemies."

The words both encouraged and disturbed him. Encouraged him because they offered hope that she wasn't guilty, but disturbed him because of whoever was out to destroy her. He searched for words, but nothing came.

Matt turned the conversation to other topics for a while. Then his friend engulfed him in a bear hug. "Wish I could stay longer and give you a hand."

Chance managed a smile. "Yeah, right."

"You have my number if you need me."

"Thanks, pal."

Chance returned to his work with renewed gusto, the day now warm and sunny. In no time at all, the door was in place and shimmed to level and plumb. He reached for the package of four-inch screws he'd bought that morning. The stronger the frame the better, and he'd make sure to repeat the process when it came to the hinges and lock plate. If Dakota did come back, at least she'd have secure doors.

Chance worked straight through lunch and into the afternoon, his thoughts never far from Dakota, but happy for the work that kept him somewhat distracted. His concern for her spurred him on to finish the tasks in record time. First he finished the installation of the front door and trim and moved to the back to repeat the process. Then he added security lights to the front and back, tying them into the lights already in place. Once that project was finished, he tackled the chore he'd been itching to do after finishing up the paint scraping yesterday--building shutters.

What was there about shutters that made a house feel homey? Maybe the shutters would make Dakota feel at home. Make her want to stay. Forever. With him.

The ache in his heart returned and lingered, as he took measurements, used the noisy chop saw to cut the boards to length, and installed the first two shutters. Chance stepped back to view his work, pleased with the results.

A vehicle with no muffler growled in the distance and grew closer. Then a truck in worse shape than Dakota's pulled into view. Chance raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sinking sun, still unable to make out faces inside the noisy truck.

The pickup stopped, and the engine went silent. An old man he didn't recognize climbed slowly from the cab and tottered toward him.

Chance stepped toward him. "Can I help you?"

The man's long white beard reached to his chest. "You might not remember me, son, but I was a friend of J.C.'s."

Chance offered his hand. "Any friend of Grampa's is a friend of mine."

"I'm Hank, and I have something for you."

A frown cinched his brows. This man he didn't know had something for him?

"But before I hand it over, I need to tell you something." Hank raised long wrinkled fingers in the air and peered directly at Chance. "Sometimes things happen we have a hard time gettin' around. After it's all said and done, we wish we could go back and do things differently, but we can't."

Where was he going with this line of conversation?

"That don't make us bad people. It makes us like everyone else in the world. Sinners in need of grace." Hank's voice held a gruffness that bordered on scolding. "Part of forgiving someone means lettin' the past go and movin' ahead without all that garbage holdin' you back. You get what I'm saying, young man?"

"Yes sir." But not why he was saying it.

"Sump'n' else I want you to know."

The sun sunk lower and lower behind the old man. Chance turned sideways to keep the sun from his eyes. Just how much longer was this gonna take?

"It ain't always easy for people to talk about the past. When I came back from the war, I vowed to never mention it, even if people asked. Didn't mean I had sump'n' to hide. It meant it hurt too much to talk about." He paused. "Whatever you do, don't let her shut you out."

Chance's pulse quickened. Who? Don't let who shut him out?

"She needs to get this settled, and she needs your help to do it."

Behind them both, soft footsteps sounded.

Chest pounding, Chance whirled around.

A familiar figure stood in front of him, silhouetted by the sun, her red hair gleaming like that of an angel. In two steps he had her in his arms, whispering against her hair. "I thought I'd lost you forever." His voice broke, and he struggled to keep his emotions under control.

Dakota pushed away gently. She peered into his eyes, her face full of both sorrow and questions. Then she turned and walked over to Hank. "Thank you for everything, Hank. Words just can't expre--"

The old man pulled her into an embrace. "Hush now, 'fore you go and make me cry." Hank moved her to arm's length, tears shining in his ancient eyes. "You do things right this time around, girlie. No more running away, no matter what. Trust the Lord to take care of you. And don't be a stranger."

Dakota hugged him again. "I won't. Give Emma my love."

Hank waved his bony fingers again, tottered to his pickup, and drove away.

Dakota faced Chance. "We have lots to talk about."

He breathed a silent prayer of thanksgiving for her safe return, then pulled her into his arms once more. "We certainly do."

Chapter Twenty-Three

D
akota's heart did that strange little flip-flop thing in her chest, and it was all because of the love and relief shining in Chance's clear blue-gray eyes. She pressed her lips together and lowered her gaze. So much for her determination to tell him everything. How could she tell him the truth and risk changing his tender expression to one of anger?

Daisy began to bark and whine from the barn. A grin she couldn't control spread across Dakota's face as she hurried to her old friend. The dog practically jumped into her arms as she unlocked the gate, eliciting a laugh from both her and Chance. "Down, Daisy. You're a German Shepherd, not a Chihuahua." She glanced over at Chance and moved outside. "I think she missed me."

"She's not the only one." He placed one arm around her shoulder as they strolled toward the house, Daisy on their heels. "Glad to have you back." His handsome grin set off a swarm of butterflies that made their way to her queasy stomach. "Why'd you stay gone so long? In fact, why'd you leave in the first place?"

Good. This Chance she could handle. She pulled away from his embrace and raised both hands. "Look, don't push me. This isn't easy."

An apology crept into his eyes, mingling with the love and relief.

Oh no, not that again. Dakota snatched up her backpack from off the ground and then stopped in her tracks, for the first time noticing the work Chance had done on the house in her absence. This place would look phenomenal once they added a few coats of paint. "You've been busy." That he would use his holiday and evenings to work on the old house even without her there touched her in a way she didn't expect.

Chance ambled up beside her. "Looks good, huh?"

Gross understatement. "It looks wonderful. New doors, old paint scraped off, and I love the shutters. It's a perfect touch."

"Wanna help me finish?" Chance peered back at the setting sun, eyes squinted. "Should have time to get a few more shutters done."

"Sure." Dakota dropped her bag on the front porch and followed him to where he had the sawhorses and chop saw set up.

He handed her a tape measure and pencil. "You mark the boards in four-foot sections, and I'll cut them. If we create an assembly line, we'll be able to whip these out in no time at all."

They soon fell into an easy rhythm and managed to churn out enough shutters to finish the windows on the front of the house before dark. As they moved to clean up the debris and tools, Chance smiled over at her. "We make a pretty good team you know."

Her thoughts exactly, and it troubled her to no end. No matter how sweet and kind he was, no matter how good-looking, no matter what he said or did, she had to find a way to fight the incredible waves of attraction that kept washing over her, yanking her below the surface, and leaving her gasping for breath.

He leaned against the barn door, one lanky leg across the other, those vivid eyes of his highlighted by his blue plaid shirt. "For someone who said we need to talk, you're not doing much."

Dakota finished putting the tools away, struggling for words. What was this sudden inability to make a coherent sentence? "Guess I'm having a hard time figuring out how to start."

A lazy smile curved his lips. Chance uncrossed his legs and stepped toward her. He stopped just inches from where she stood, his eyes searching her face.

Dakota struggled to maintain aloofness, praying that she wasn't sending off any unspoken signals.

He reached up and fingered one of her curls. "I like your hair this color."

"You do?" Why did her voice suddenly resemble Minnie Mouse?

"Mmm-hmmm." He continued to wind it around his long fingers as though mesmerized. "Let me take you out to a nice dinner, Dakota. A place where we can both relax. Maybe that'll make it easier to talk."

"Okay." The traitorous agreement escaped her lips before she could stop it. What was she thinking? It would be much easier to handle this conversation in a less intimate setting.

After locking Daisy inside, they set out for the lake, Chance insistent on seafood. Once they arrived, they were immediately seated at a table in the back, overlooking the lake. Dakota pursed her lips as she scanned the room. At least they were the only customers in this part of the restaurant, which might or might not make it easier to talk.

Chance helped her remove her jacket, his breath warm against her cold cheek. "We'll have privacy here. I work with the wife of the owner, and called in a favor."

Thoughts tangled in her brain. Privacy. Good for conversation, if it weren't for the romantic setting. Apparently this room was used for special occasions, because the decor was much less casual than the noisy front room they'd passed through on their way in. In addition, soft music played in the background. With the lights low, the flame from the flicker of the candle on their table danced about in sync with the flames from a nearby stone fireplace. But the best part was the view.

Their intimate booth for two sat beside a large plate glass window overlooking the lake, where the sun melted into the horizon, leaving pink, orange, and gold streaks on the underbelly of the fluffy clouds.

Chance motioned for her to have a seat.

Warding off the romance as best she could, Dakota scooted into the booth.

He took a seat beside her, his smile wreaking havoc with her insides. "You look like you're on pins and needles, Dakota. Relax. Enjoy the evening. Take in the view."

After they placed their order, Chance filled the time with talk about his week and had her laughing at stories of Daisy's antics. By the time their food arrived, the atmosphere had worked its magic on her, her tense muscles unwinding in spite of her earlier resolution to stay on her guard.

Chance took her hand to bless the food. But once the prayer was over, he maintained his grip, his gaze still searching hers.

Dakota sent a tight-lipped smile, pulled her hand away, and busied herself with her napkin and food. For the next few minutes she focused on devouring the meal in front of her. Never had she had such delicious shrimp scampi.