Page 37 of North

They burst out of the barn into the storm, rain stinging Selah’s face. Behind them, Hendrickson shouted, and she ducked as another shot barked, muffled a little by the rain and the fact that James drove them right onto a forested trail.

This couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t be on some high-stakes, on-the-run adventure with a stranger.

Who may or may not be a truck thief. Who spoke Russian.

Who might have been able to disarm—kill—an old man.

Oh, please, God, she didn’t want to be in a made-for-television thriller movie of the week.

She clung to James’s jacket, the wet leather slick under her fingers, wondering if she’d just made the biggest mistake of her life.

No. No, she’d already made that mistake.

But she couldn’t help the tiny prayer that lifted inside her. Please, God, help North find me.

* * *

Rain sheeted across North’s face as he checked his dying phone one last time. Two percent. No signal. The blue GPS dot spun uselessly against gray darkness, and every step sank him deeper into the muddy mountain road.

He’d found a way across the tumultuous river, and now, as lightning cracked overhead, he just needed shelter. A place to charge his phone. Maybe rent a car from a local.

His fingers trembled more from anger than cold as he shoved the phone into his pocket.

He shivered, wrapped his arms around himself, ducked his head…

The memory rolled through him like distant thunder.

He’d come in from a workout, freshly showered, and found Selah in his kitchen, a delivery bag from Bruegger’s Bagels on his granite countertop, making scrambled eggs.

Like he hadn’t been gone for a month doing security with Skeet, out of touch, out of country…

She’d somehow picked right up, not a question about where he’d been or what he’d done. The early-morning light had caught her hair, and she’d hummed, moving to some beat that pumped out of her EarPods.

He’d just watched her for a moment—his arms folded as he leaned against the wall. Until she’d turned, spotted him, and screamed.

Then she’d thrown the wooden spoon at him.

He’d ducked as it hit the wall behind him.

Her hands had gone to her mouth, her beautiful blue eyes widening.

Then she’d laughed, her entire face lighting up. She’d pulled out her EarPods and crossed over to him. “You scared me.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

Then he’d cradled her face in his hands and bent down to kiss her. She’d tasted of something sweet—maybe her morning yogurt, although it could simply have been the essence of Selah. Sunshine and light and peace and joy and, oh, she was exactly the package he’d wanted—needed—to return home to.

And he needed to stop waffling and propose already.

As if to make that point, Skeet came into the kitchen right then and whistled. “Man, I need a girlfriend.”

Selah had laughed as she broke away. “I made enough eggs for you too. And West, if he ever gets up.”

“He’s in Tennessee, visiting his family. Decided to detour on the way home from…”

She’d raised an eyebrow as she pulled a bagel from the toaster.

“Oops.”