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Loretta was right.
“Thank you.”
Loretta quietly made her way back to Sheriff Modine, but Violet remained at the grave. She had other siblings out there. She could find them. Instead of looking for Adam, maybe she should have been looking for other brothers.
“I’m not you. I may have your DNA in me, but I don’t have to be you. I will not be you.” And she wouldn’t be bitter like her mom either. She heard footsteps. Knew it was John. She stood. “Wanna meet my father?” she asked and pointed to the boulder.
“Not particularly.”
She shoved her hands in her coat pockets, looking at this man before her. Quiet when he needed to be. Challenging and consoling. Kind and patient. He’d brought her into his family without fear, and she’d been accepted.
John was right. She believed God had brought her here for more than a case. He’d brought her here to set her free, and she was—free. She had much to learn, but she was free.
“Did you get all the answers you wanted?” John closed the distance between them.
“No. But I got what I needed.”
She grasped the lapels of his coat, gazed into his eyes. “Do you want to kiss me, John?”
His eyes held the answer, and his lopsided grin corkscrewed her belly.
“I do.”
“Then I double-dog dare you.” She challenged him with the words.
His arms slid around her waist as he drew her against him. “A double-dog dare. Can’t pass that up,” he teased as his lips met hers, explored gently, cautiously and tempered with restraint, but she felt the heat beneath the simmer.
They’d let it marinate a while longer.
John eased back from the kiss, pecked her lips once more. “Does this mean I’ve stolen your heart?” John lightly teased.
“Hardly. You’re not that slick.” She framed his face. “It means I’m entrusting it to you.”
His thumb caressed her cheekbone. “I like this way better. I’ll be good to it. I promise.”
As they walked to the car, she leaned against him. “You better. ’Cause you know I only need one bullet.”
“Hmm...” John chuckled under his breath and opened her car door for her. She slid inside and noticed something was off. She patted her holster, then snapped her attention to John, who stood beaming like a kid on Christmas morning.
“Bullets are useless without a gun, darlin’.” He held up her weapon.
“Oh, you are slick.”
He leaned into the car, handed her back the piece and kissed the tender spot behind her earlobe. “You have no idea,” he flirted through a whisper.
No, but she was ready to find out. Ready to leave the past behind and pursue something new, something greater, stronger and brighter.
Something like hope and truth.
And love.
