Read Shadows of the Past (Logan Point Book #1): A Novel Online
Authors: Patricia Bradley
Tags: #FIC042060, #FIC042040, #FIC027110
Shadows of the Past (Logan Point Book #1): A Novel (34 page)
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aylor’s ankle throbbed where she’d twisted it when she attacked Pete. She shifted her weight, and Pete tightened his choke hold on her. At least with Livy’s light, she wasn’t trapped in darkness.
“Pete, I have a bottle of water here,” Livy yelled.
“Keep your water.” He stepped back, pulling Taylor with him. His feet stirred the ground, and the sour odor filled her nostrils. Along with another faint scent . . . fresh, like sunshine. Like Nick
.
She didn’t breathe. Nick was here. He’d come for her.
“Maybe Taylor would like a drink.” Livy’s voice had an edge to it.
“Forget the water!” Pete waved the gun, then pressed the barrel against her cheek again. “And get me that helicopter!”
Do it again, Livy. Make him mad.
Taylor prepared herself, mentally picturing Pete’s most vulnerable spot. If he moved that gun just once more . . .
“Just calm down, Pete.”
He slid the gun up the side of her head, then jerked it in the air and fired. “Don’t tell me what to do. You got five—”
Taylor rammed her right elbow in his Adam’s apple. Pete shrieked and bent over, holding his throat. She jabbed him again, this time
aiming for his nose. Something crashed into them from behind, and the gun dropped to the floor.
“Run, Taylor!”
Nick.
Pete scrambled for the gun. Taylor lunged for him as Nick landed on Pete’s back.
Livy kicked the gun out of his reach. “You’re under arrest, Pete Connelly. On your face, hands behind your back. Now!”
Taylor fell into Nick’s arms, and he crushed her against his chest. She felt the pounding beat of his heart as she clung to him.
He kissed the top of her head. “Do you think you’re done scaring the life out of me?”
Daylight never looked so good. Taylor braced her back against a post as she and her mother waited on the porch at Oak Grove. Paramedics had wrapped her foot and dressed the scratches she’d gotten in the scuffle. Nick had walked out under the tall trees to call the hospital and check on Scott. Pete sat handcuffed in the backseat of a patrol car, his expression alternating between hatred and resignation.
Her mom slipped her arm around Taylor’s waist and heaved a sigh. “It’s over.”
“Yes. It’s over.” Taylor leaned into the embrace. Beyond the patrol car, an ambulance carrying Ethan’s body drove slowly away. “No more nightmares.”
But now they had to deal with the aftermath. Her dad, dead all these years. But for Taylor, and her mother as well, the loss was fresh and painful. She felt her mom shudder.
“Your father . . .” Her voice broke, and she cried silently. Taylor cried with her.
“I always believed he’d walk through the door one day, that he would come back,” her mom said through her tears. “But that’s never going to happen now.”
“I know.” Taylor wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “But at least we can grieve for him.”
“I feel so bad for the anger I’ve harbored. I should have known he would never leave us, but I just never believed he was dead. I thought if he was, I would know it in my heart.”
“I know. I did too.” Taylor closed her eyes. She’d wasted so many years believing her father had rejected her. At least that weight was gone. “It’s in the past. We have to put it behind us and move forward.”
Mom smiled through her tears. “Yes. I think we can now.”
Taylor wrapped her arms around her mother. Memories of her dad flooded her mind. Memories she could embrace now. She pulled away and wiped her cheek with a tissue from her mom. “Do you think Jonathan will make it?”
Her mom dabbed her eyes as well. “I asked Ben how bad his injuries were while they were wrapping your foot. It doesn’t look good. I’m afraid he won’t have the will to live. So many mistakes . . . but we’d both be dead if he hadn’t . . .”
“I know.” Taylor stared at the ground. She’d loved her uncle all her life, and she couldn’t imagine their lives without him in it. But after what she’d learned . . . she simply had to focus on the fact that he’d tried to save them. “I hope he makes it.”
Her mom squeezed Taylor’s hand again. “I’m so proud of you. You’re good at this police stuff.” She took a deep breath. “You were born to do it. Doesn’t mean I won’t worry, but I had no right to ask you to stop.”
“And I was wrong as well,” Nick said.
Taylor looked up. She hadn’t heard him approach. His tender smile hooked into her heart, anchoring it. Otherwise, she was sure it would leap out of her chest.
Mom’s cell phone rang, and she glanced at it and sighed. “It’s your brother. I’d hoped to tell him before he heard about this from someone else.”
Her mom walked away from them, her cell phone pressed to her ear. Taylor looked up. Nick’s eyes held hers. She wanted so badly to believe what she saw in them was love. But could he really accept her the way she was?
He took her hand. “Want to take a walk with me?”
She nodded, and they strolled toward the grove of oaks. “How is Scott?” Taylor asked.
“Better. The doctor said he’s going to be fine, no lasting effect of the insulin that Ethan gave him. But it’s not Scott I want to talk about. I want to apologize.”
She gave him a curious glance.
He rubbed his hand over his jaw. “In the tunnels . . . I thought . . .” He looked toward the old house. “When Pete held that gun to your head . . . I—”
“I understand, Nick.” Taylor wrapped her arms across her stomach and stared at the ground. “After losing your wife like you did, I don’t blame you for not wanting to go through that again.”
“That’s not what I was trying to say. When it was all over, all I could think about was that you were safe and we had another chance.” He lifted her chin. “I’m sorry for asking you to give up something you were meant to do. I’d like to start over.”
“What . . . what do you mean?”
Nick brushed back a strand of hair, then cupped her face, his fingers sending shock waves through her body.
“I was wrong,” he said. “Helping others solve crimes is part of who you are. I don’t want to change that about you.”
A breeze touched her cheeks, bringing the scent of honeysuckle as hope soared in her heart. She smiled up at Nick through blurry eyes. “You don’t?”
“No.” His fingers trailed down her neck, sending chills chasing down her spine as he bent toward her and gently kissed her lips. She slipped her arms around him, and he pulled her to him. “I think
I’m falling in love with you, Taylor Martin. Would you want to take a chance, see where this relationship takes us?”
She blinked back tears. “I think I would, Nick Sinclair. But are you sure?”
The answer came in the form of a solid, unwavering kiss that melted her like warm butter.
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here are so many to thank for making this book possible.
My family and friends for believing in me—my daughters, Elisa and Carole. My mom, Frances, and my sister, Barbara. Bryan for his love and encouragement. Patricia and Cheryl, who talked me off more than one ledge. My critique partners, Chandra, Johnnie, Renee, and Rob—you made this book better. And Delores, who prayed me through more than one crisis.
To Susan May Warren and Rachel Hauck—you two changed my writing life. Thank you. And thanks to the Ponderers and My Book Therapy for being one of the best writing communities out there.
To Dr. Amy Davis, my go-to for physician and hospital-related questions, and Dr. Reba Hoffman, who answered many of my questions dealing with psychology and university credentials. Any mistakes in not getting the facts straight are mine.
To my wonderful agent, Mary Sue Seymour, who loved my work.
To my amazing and gifted editors, Lonnie Hull DuPont and Kristin Kornoelje—a special thanks for your patience, kindness, and valuable input. And to the Revell art, editorial, marketing, and sales teams for your hard work—you are the best!
And most of all to my heavenly Father who loves me.
Patricia Bradley
is a published short story writer and is cofounder of Aiming for Healthy Families, Inc. Her manuscript for
Shadows of the Past
was a finalist for the 2012 Genesis Award, winner of a 2012 Daphne du Maurier Award (1st place, Inspirational), and winner of a 2012 Touched by Love Award (1st place, Contemporary). When she’s not writing or speaking, she can be found making beautiful clay pots and jewelry. She is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers and Romance Writers of America and makes her home in Corinth, Mississippi.
