Oregon Outback (9 page)

Small rocks trickling down the wall. Jonas stopped.

He turned to her, pressed his finger against his lips, then nudged her back into the darkness.

She was scared for him. At that minute, she never wanted anything more than to be free to love him. Jonas moved to leave, but she reached out for him. He pressed into the darkness with her and cupped her cheeks. Then he kissed her, infusing her with his love.

“I have to go,” he whispered. “And finish this.”

Then, he disappeared into the darkness. Darcy prayed hard for him. Would they get their chance together? She never should have decided to sell her store. Never should have thrown things in his face. If she hadn’t, neither of them would be here now.

Jonas was risking his life for her.

Pop! Pop!
Gunfire exploded. Darcy covered her ears and stifled her scream.

Another round of gunfire erupted.

Then … silence.

Jonas didn’t return. Darcy feared the worst, but neither did she hear anyone else walking the fissure path. No pebbles falling or crunching underfoot.

She left the shadows where Jonas had tucked her, no longer caring about her own safety. She had to know. Using the stone hedge as a guide, she crept forward.

In the moonlight, she spotted Jonas’s silhouette. He leaned against the wall several yards away. Heart rate spiking, she made her way to his side.

Was he injured? Where was Gambini? Fear and sorrow erupted in her heart—her most precious possession. She’d wanted to protect it. But now all she wanted was to give it away. Give it to Jonas.

“Jonas,” she whispered. “What happened?”

He pressed his hand against his chest, near his shoulder, and in the light of the moon she could see blood oozing between his fingers.

“You’re hurt.” A sob caught in her throat.

He slid to the ground. Darcy dropped beside him and there, she cradled his head. “I love you. Don’t leave me.”

Bright, white pain seared his shoulder and chest. The edges of his vision grew dark, even in the shadows.

Jonas wanted to tell her he loved her. There had never been anyone else.

Would he get the chance?

He didn’t have the breath to speak. Why had he wasted his chance when he had it? Loud thrumming vibrated inside the fissure. A chopper. Help had finally come.

Jonas mustered his strength, tugging Darcy close. “It’s over. You’re safe now.”

The beam of a light shone on her face, revealing her tearstained cheeks. Darcy kept her eyes on him.

“Jonas, I love you. Do you hear me? Stay with me.”

Someone shouted. Sounded like the local sheriff—what was her name again? Jonas replayed Darcy’s words in his mind, in his heart, until her face, the rock walls, the flashlight, and voices, all faded away.

S
he had to see Jonas.

Authorities questioned her about the abduction, keeping her away for too long. She hurried through the hallway of the local county hospital, grateful they hadn’t sent him to someplace like Portland.

That meant his injury wasn’t serious enough to warrant travel to a better hospital. Room 235, where he recovered, loomed three doors away. He’d taken two bullets but was in stable condition, they’d said.

Two bullets!

The fact that he was an FBI agent had taken time to sink in. Gambini, gunfire, and bullets had done the trick. She drew near the room and heard voices inside. Not wanting to interrupt, she paused and lifted her hand to knock, listening to the voices to see if she recognized them. Were his brothers inside?

A gruff voice, “Patrick Honor was involved with Adrian Gephardt and his Internet fraud scheme. Money swayed him, Jonas. He took it to keep you off Gephardt’s trail, but he didn’t follow through with his agreement.”

“And that, in turn, infuriated Gambini,” Jonas said. “Because I linked the Internet fraud to his mob operations.”

“Right,” the gruff voice again. “Honor was now a target. On the next raid, though he tried to assist the target’s escape with vital information before you arrived, he was killed. We searched Honor’s belongings, and then the boxes you put into storage. That’s where we found the half-million dollars.”

Darcy pressed herself against the wall, not wanting to hear more. Dreading what would come next.

“Honor’s fingerprints were all over the bills. In his panic, he became careless. When he couldn’t keep you off Gambini’s trail, then he knew he was in trouble and hid the money in what he thought would be the most unlikely place.”

Darcy exhaled. A nurse sitting at her station frowned at her.

“That’s what it meant then. When he was dying, he told me he was sorry. I thought he was sorry for getting hurt during the raid. For dying on me.”

“All you need now is a psych evaluation, then you’re cleared to return. It’ll be good to have you back, Agent Love.”

Jonas said something, but Darcy couldn’t make it out. Was he going back to work? Her heart sank right to her ankles.

“We’re done here. Once you’re fully recovered, we’ll be in contact.”

The men from the FBI were leaving, and Darcy stood at the door eavesdropping. She dashed around the corner and gasped for air, trying to comprehend what it meant.

His plans didn’t include her. Had never included her.

He’d come here to wait out an inquiry over his conduct during a raid. She’d told him she loved him and still, he was leaving. He’d been half-unconscious before Darcy had been willing to give up her heart. Maybe he hadn’t heard.

Devastated, she couldn’t bear to face him now. Not until she gained some measure of control over her emotions. She took the quickest escape route and bumped into a man leaving another patient’s room.

The man gripped her shoulders. “Darcy, are you okay?”

Darcy stared into the eyes of the new pastor of her father’s church. “Pastor Reeves. What are you doing here?”

He gestured to the room behind him. “I stopped by to visit Mr. Donaldson.”

Reeling from the fact she was about to lose Jonas again, Darcy eyed the exit. So. Close. “I’m sorry to hear that. Will you excuse me?”

She pressed past the new pastor. He called after her, “Wait, Darcy. I have something I need to give you.”

Darcy was at the door, the only thing standing between her and freedom. She felt the cool glass against her palm.

“It belonged to your father,” he said, gently.

She hesitated, peering behind her. He closed the distance between them and shoved the door open for her, allowing her through first. Outside, he motioned to a bench. Darcy didn’t feel like sitting, but refusing would mean she’d need to explain.

Pastor Reeves sat next to her. “Somehow I ended up with your father’s old Bible. Then today, I discovered that I picked it up on my way out the door to the hospital. I didn’t know why, but I do now. God wanted you to have this.”

He handed it to Darcy. She ran her fingers across the dried-out, old leather that bound the weight of a thousand pages together. A lump cinched her throat closed.

When she said nothing, Pastor Reeves continued. “I tried on several occasions to return it because I wanted to do it in person. I was never able to connect with you. You see, I discovered a private letter stuck inside. It’s addressed to you.”

She thumbed through the pages. A letter rested behind the front cover. Staring at the envelope, she hardly noticed when Pastor Reeves stood.

When finally she acknowledged him, he smiled down. “I’m glad you have what belongs to you. I’ll leave you to your business.”

As he walked away, she tore the envelope, mindful of the letter inside. When she unfolded the paper, her father’s familiar scribble caressed the sheet.

“Oh Daddy,” she whispered.

The writing blurred. Tears dripped onto the page, smudging the ink.

Jonas stared out the hospital window and buttoned his shirt, compliments of Lucas.

No more would he blame himself for Honor’s death. A brick of disappointment lodged in his gut. Darcy hadn’t come to see him yet, and he’d been in the hospital three days. Should he give up?

Had she meant what she’d said to him? Did she love him?

Her actions spoke to the contrary, like a megaphone in his head. He could almost hear her saying,
‘Agent Jonas Love, you’re relieved of duty.’
The words that had sent him to Oregon in the first place.

He had to face the awful truth. Darcy would be safer without him. It was better if she felt nothing for him. He couldn’t afford more jerks coming after him, hurting Darcy or others he loved.

The words he had to say would be harsh. Jonas needed all the practice he could get so he said them out loud. Lucas’s advice on that seemed to work, but he wasn’t going to look in the mirror while he did it. He had to draw the line there.

“Because I love you,” he said under his breath. “Because I love you, I have to go back to the bureau. Back to my job and do my duty to keep thugs like Gambini from hurting people. I’ve turned control of my life over to God. It’s in His hands now.”

There was still the issue of the promise he’d made to Darcy’s father. Jonas sighed, dreading the decisions he faced—opposing forces ripped at him, inside his head, inside his heart.

If he could just say it like that to her face … it was a start.

“Don’t leave.” The words drifted to him so softly, he almost didn’t hear them.

Jonas angled his head. Had he imagined them? He swung around.

Darcy stood there, a sheen of moisture in her eyes.

She gave him a sort of smile-frown. “Don’t leave.”

He tossed all his well-meaning thoughts about leaving, his spiel about why, into the air. His arm open—one arm remained in a sling—Darcy ran to him. She pressed into him. He sank his face into her neck, breathing in the familiar honey-vanilla scent. Breathing in the essence of Darcy, the woman he loved.

How many times had he said he would never let her go? The last time he’d held her, he thought it might be his last. He’d left her to face Gambini.

“I thought you’d decided not to see me,” he said against her hair.

Darcy pulled away. He brushed a blond strand from her cheek.

“I came to see you yesterday, but you had visitors.” She took a step back. “I’m sorry, Jonas. I overheard them. And then today, I was in your room, and you were talking to yourself.”

Jonas released a breath. “So you heard me say that I love you.”

“And that’s why you think you have to leave. But I’m asking you not to. Not this time.”

“But my being here put your life in danger. How can I let that happen again?”

“I gave you up once before, because I wanted my father’s approval. I’ve wanted it ever since you left. Even after my father died. He never gave it. When I hid from Gambini, scared for my life, I prayed for God to hide and protect me. I never needed Him that much, and He didn’t withhold. That emptiness that I thought my father’s approval would fill is gone.”

Darcy angled her head, her soft hair falling forward slightly. Jonas could read her tenuous smile. She was afraid that she couldn’t convince him to stay.

“God sent you to help me. Hiding and waiting for you, I knew I had to forgive you and that, with or without my father’s approval, I love you and want to be with you. But I have his approval, too.” Smiling, she tugged a paper from her purse. “I have his consent. My father left me this letter, saying he would be proud to call you his son.”

Jonas took a breath to speak—

“How did he know?” she asked.

If he told her, would she lash out again? So near the very thing he’d wanted for so long, knowing how fragile that was, and how easily he could lose it, Jonas feared she would bolt again. He stepped closer, taking one of her hands in his.

“Because … I went to see him while he was in the hospital before he died. It was then that he gave me permission to try to win your heart back. To marry you.” Jonas searched her eyes for understanding. “I never forgot you, Darcy, never stopped loving you. He made me promise to take care of you if you’d agree to have me. But I couldn’t find my way back into your life no matter how hard I tried.”