Still Waters (21 page)

“You bet, just relax and let me do the work, okay? Tom’s going to steady the boat while I pull you in.”

Tiffany nodded her understanding, felt Jake loop his arms under hers, and before she could blink, was inside the boat with Jake’s arms wrapped firmly around her.

“Are you okay?”

Huddled close to Jake’s warmth, Tiffany felt better than okay. “Yes.”

“Greg didn’t hurt you?”

“Greg? You mean Slade?” Tiffany’s teeth chattered so hard, she could barely get the word out.

“You’re in shock. Tom, strip off your shirt.” As Jake spoke he pulled off his own shirt and tugged it over Tiffany’s head. Tom’s followed a moment later. Jake pulled her close and spoke over her head. “Can you drive this, Tom?”

Tiffany didn’t hear the answer. Pressed close to Jake’s heart, she had fallen asleep.

Later, after Greg had been taken to the station to be
booked and the spectators and reporters had gone back to their beds, Tiffany sat in Jake’s cruiser nursing sweet, hot coffee and waited while Jake gave final orders to several officers.

It didn’t take him long to return to the car and when he did, the concern in his eyes was obvious. “How’s the arm?”

“Better.”

“You should have gone to the hospital earlier. Gotten an X ray.”

“I wanted to be here. I also wanted to put off more pain for as long as possible. I figure once I get there they’ll do more damage to me than Slade did.” Tiffany was only half joking.

Jake seemed to sense it. He smoothed a hand over her hair, and let it rest against her neck. “Don’t worry. Whatever they do won’t be so bad. I’ll make sure of it.”

Tiffany smiled at his words, reaching up to brush half-dry hair from her cheek. “I’ll count on it.”

Jake stared down at her, his eyes assessing. “You’ve got another bruise.”

Tiffany shivered as he traced gentle fingers along her cheek. “I’ll be fine.”

“If I’d been with you tonight this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Jake, you can’t know that. Besides, being with me every minute of the day would be impossible.”

“Yes, but—”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Tiffany cut him off, not liking the regret she heard in his voice.

“Maybe not, but if anything had happened to you I never would have forgiven myself.”

“Jake—”

This time it was Jake’s turn to interrupt, his warm lips si
lencing Tiffany more effectively than any words could. When he finally pulled back, Tiffany was too bemused to speak.

In Jake’s eyes she could see everything she had ever hoped for—love, acceptance, passion—and Tiffany was sure she was dreaming. Then he reached out and tugged a curl, smiling into her eyes. “If anything had happened to you I wouldn’t have forgiven myself for never telling you how much you mean to me. I love you, Tiffany. Knowing you has changed me. You’ve made me believe in all the things I gave up on after my first marriage.”

“You love me?”

“Yeah, I do.” Jake threaded his fingers through hers and brought her hand up for a kiss.

“But aren’t you going back to D.C.?”

“D.C.? Why would you think that?”

“Henry said…” Tiffany paused, realizing what she should have known all along. “It isn’t true. You’re not leaving.”

Jake shook his head. “How could I? I’d have to leave my heart behind.”

Tiffany laughed; she couldn’t help herself. The sound pealed through the quiet night, filled with joy and hope and all the love she felt. “That is the silliest, most romantic thing anybody has ever said to me. And you know what? I love you, too.”

“Good, then share my life with me. Be my wife.”

Tiffany looked into Jake’s eyes, dark with longing and with hope, and for a moment was so full of love she couldn’t speak. Then she pulled his hand close, kissing it in the same way he had kissed hers moments before. “I can’t imagine a life without you, Jake. I’d love to be your wife.”

At her words, Jake pulled Tiffany to her feet and held her
close. She let his warm embrace envelop her, smiling against his chest as she said a silent prayer of thanks.

In His own time and in His own way, God had given her the desire of her heart.

S
he stood at the door of the sanctuary, listening for the first strains of the bridal march. Yards of white silk cascaded to her feet, a long train of the same material flowing behind her. In her hands she held a bouquet of fall blossoms—hyacinth and mums, mixed with tiny red and yellow roses.

A dog barked and Tiffany smiled, patting Bandit on the head and adjusting the bow tie attached to his collar. Mom had complained about the dog being part of the wedding ceremony, but Tiffany had insisted. After all, God had used him to bring Jake into her life.

“Your turn, guys.” Tiffany’s father motioned to Tom who stood tall in his rented tux. Tightening his grip on Bandit’s leash, he flashed Tiffany a smile, and walked through the door.

Then the music changed, slowing, gaining in depth, as the bridal march began. She felt her father’s hand tighten on her arm and she looked up into his green eyes.

“It’s time. I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too, Dad.”

Friends and family filled the church, smiling their happiness as Tiffany and her father walked through the door. Tiffany barely noticed. She smiled, gazing down the aisle, longing to meet her beloved’s eyes.

Jake stood waiting, tall and dark-haired, his eyes glowing with love. He moved forward as she approached, linking arms with her, leaning close to whisper in her ear. “I have never seen anyone as beautiful as you. I’ll remember you like this, always.” He brushed his hand against the soft lace of her veil and Tiffany’s heart thundered with happiness.

Bandit barked again. This time, Tiffany didn’t notice.