Hope White - Christmas Haven

Walking toward her was the man who’d asked for directions to the ferry line. He eyed his phone, stopped dead in his tracks and looked right at her. He smiled. Goose bumps pricked down her arms.

She got up and headed for the snack bar, bustling with passengers anxious to fill their stomachs. Look relaxed, casual. You don’t know he was the one who sent the text .

She wandered up to a pack of teenagers who eyed foil-wrapped burgers. The thought of food made her stomach twist into a tighter knot. The hair bristled on the back of her neck, instinct warning her to get away.

She grabbed a sandwich and lined up to check out. Glancing over her shoulder, she spotted the car guy in line a few people behind her.

“Seven eighty-seven,” the cashier said.

Julie fumbled in her pocket for cash. Her fingers trembled as she desperately strategized her next move. She handed the cashier a ten and took off, rushing toward the stairs, hoping to hide between the cars below.

Would he jump the line and follow her? She couldn’t think about that, she had to get away, had to—

She raced down the stairs and flung open the door. Rushing up the aisle, she used the cars as cover, ducking between them so as not to be seen. She crisscrossed the ferry and glanced over her shoulder. A tall figure headed toward her.

She stumbled on something and went down, dropping her sandwich and slamming her palms to the ground to brace her fall. But it was too late. She was down and he was close. She could feel his eyes boring into her back.

And saw a shadow loom above her.

* * *

“Hey, you okay?” Morgan Wright asked, kneeling beside the frantic woman.

His instincts piqued when she dodged around the corner and raced for the opposite end of the ferry as if she was a sprinter in the Olympics. They went on red alert when he spotted a tall male make the same turn and search between cars.

“Ma’am?” he tried again. She didn’t answer at first. He’d seen her hit the ground and figured she was out of breath.

“Don’t hurt me,” she gasped.

“You’re okay,” he assured. “I’m a police officer.”

She sat up and the air ripped from his chest. No, it couldn’t be. He’d never forget the face of his first love, never forget her golden eyes or freckles that dotted her nose.

He’d never forgotten Julie Burns, the girl who’d taken a piece of his heart with her when she’d left ten years ago.

Lower lip trembling, she clutched her wrist to her stomach, rocking forward slightly. She still hadn’t looked at him.

A tornado of emotions whipped through his body, from anger to pain to concern. And he had so many questions.

“I… He was…” she choked.

“Take a deep breath,” Morgan said, touching her shoulder for support. That’s what he’d do if she were a stranger. He decided that was the best way to keep his perspective.

To treat her as if she were a stranger.

He spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. A tall man, thirties, with slicked-back hair, wearing an overcoat, froze ten feet away. Was it the man who’d been searching between cars? Morgan couldn’t be sure.

“Can I help you?” Morgan stood to his full six feet two inches.

“She forgot her change upstairs.” He hesitated and extended his hand to reveal a few bills and coins.

Morgan reached for it.

“Who are you?” The guy closed his fist.

“A cop.” He flashed his badge. “I’ll take it from here.”

The guy dropped the money into Morgan’s hand and eyed Julie. “Is she okay?”

“She tripped. She’ll be fine.” Morgan glanced at Julie, who still hadn’t looked up, then back at the stranger. “You a friend of hers?”

The guy backed off. “No, I just happened to be in line behind her.”

Uh-huh. Right.

“Good Samaritan type,” Morgan said. “Thought we’d lost all of those. Thanks again,” he said in dismissal.

With a nod the guy disappeared into the stairwell.

Morgan took a deep breath and kneeled beside Julie. She was white as a sheet, dazed and looked as if she was going into shock.

“Jules, hey, it’s really okay.”

She blinked, the sound of her nickname snapping her out of the trance. Glancing at Morgan, she gasped.

“Morgan…” She closed her eyes. “I’m dead, right? I’m dead and went to heaven.”

Interesting that she thought seeing Morgan equaled heaven.

“You’re not dead. Just shaken up.”

She eyed him, a tear trailing down her cheek.

He remembered the last time he’d seen her cry. He thought they were happy tears, but they’d been tears of goodbye.

“I don’t understand,” she said.

“To see me in heaven I’d have to be dead and I’m very much alive, which means you’re very much alive.” He sounded like a dork, but finding the right words, any intelligent words, at this point was a challenge.

He was on the ferry headed back home. With Julie.

A scene that had filled his dreams more than once in the years after she’d left.

Shifting into police mode he asked, “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I fell.”

“I gathered as much.”

She tipped her head slightly, a habit he’d found endearing years ago.

“Why are you on the ferry?” she asked.

“Coming home from seeing my dad in the hospital. Why are you on the ferry?”

“Mom needs help.”

Short sentences seemed to be all she could utter. He guessed the trauma still buzzed in her system.

“Huh, news to me,” he said. “I saw her yesterday and she looked fine.”

“Housecleaning.”

Now he knew she was half in shock. Edith Burns kept a tidy house, was the most organized person Morgan knew and baked a mean pecan-chocolate pie.

“Housecleaning?” he prodded.

She gave him a quick nod, looking like a little girl.

Don’t do it, Morgan. Don’t get sucked in .

“Did she send you to get me?” she asked.

She was up to seven-word sentences. That had to be a good thing, right?

“No, she didn’t send me. Take your hat off,” he said, changing the subject. He didn’t like seeing her like this, frightened and disoriented.

“What? Why?” she asked.

“I need to check for a head wound.”

She absently slipped the knit cap from her head and golden strands of sunlight fell across her shoulders. Clenching his jaw, he ran his hand gently across her scalp looking for a contusion. He struggled to ignore the feel of the soft-spun gold against his fingertips.

“I didn’t hit my head. I don’t think,” she said.

He removed his hands and leaned back on his heels. “Nope, doesn’t look like it. You wanna tell me what got you so spooked?”

“I—” her breath caught. “I was…” Her voice trailed off and she clasped her hands in her lap, he guessed to keep them from trembling.

Morgan touched her shoulder once again, hoping to ground her. “Come on.”

Gripping her upper arm, he coaxed her up. He’d forgotten how perfectly matched they were with her five-foot-eight-inch height to Morgan’s six foot two. She’d been teased in grade school for being a giant, but the teasing stopped when she turned into a beautiful teenage girl.

His girl.

“I can’t believe I tripped,” she said, avoiding his gaze.

He could. She was terrified, and eventually she was going to tell him why. But not now. Now he had to help her calm down.

Cupping her elbow, he guided her to his truck.

“I’m such a klutz,” she offered.

She was anything but a klutz. She’d been a star athlete at Greenwood High, center on the basketball team, track star, and she had looked breathtaking in a prom dress.

This was bad, very bad. He needed to take her to her mom’s and get as far away as possible from this woman. And his past.