Hope White - Christmas Haven

He opened the truck door. She took off her backpack and climbed into the front seat. It suddenly hit him how surreal this was. Running into Julie on the ferry? Rescuing her?

Morgan glanced over his shoulder to see if the guy who’d brought her change was anywhere in the vicinity. A Good Samaritan? Perhaps. Yet the guy looked as if he’d been caught stealing when Morgan noticed him.

Morgan slid behind the wheel of his truck and locked the doors. They couldn’t dock fast enough. At least when he was driving he’d have to concentrate on the dark roads leading to Port Whisper. But sitting here on the ferry…he dreaded the awkward conversation.

“How have you been?” she asked.

“Good. You?” He didn’t look at her, fearing the resentment would rise up this throat against his will.

“Okay, I guess.”

Just okay? She’d fled Port Whisper, ran away from Morgan to save the world. She’d sacrificed true love and she was just okay?

Knock it off .

“I work with street kids,” she offered.

“Sounds like a worthy endeavor.”

“It is. It’s…fulfilling.”

Unlike staying in her hometown, marrying Morgan and raising a family.

Ancient history .

He thought he’d moved on. He’d been engaged once, thought he’d found love again. But Renee couldn’t turn down an offer to teach in the Midwest, and Morgan wouldn’t abandon his dad.

Sure, he’d recovered from Renee’s heartbreak, occasionally dating Anna, another hometown girl.

But she wasn’t Julie.

Unbelievable. Why did they have to be on the same boat?

“You said your dad was in the hospital,” Julie said. “What’s wrong?”

“Cancer.”

“I’m sorry.” She leaned back against the headrest and sighed.

Seconds stretched like hours between them. Fine. Silence was better than talking about their past.

Her cell vibrated and she pulled it out. “Hey, Mom. Yeah… okay. You’ll never believe who I ran into on the ferry. Morgan Wright.” She glanced at him and smiled.

He ripped his gaze from hers and focused on the Camry in front of them. It was dangerous to look too long at that gentle smile, the whir of emotions building in his chest.

“I don’t know, hang on.” She glanced at Morgan.

“Can you give me a ride to my mom’s?”

“Absolutely.” Great, now he was down to one-word sentences. Shock did that to a person, and he was still in shock after running into her tonight.

“Sure, Mom, he’ll drop me off. Okay, I’ll tell him. Love you, too.”

She pocketed her phone and glanced at Morgan. “She wants you to come in and say hi.”

“Can’t tonight.”

Or tomorrow. Or ever.

The Burnses’ house brought back too many memories. It had been a safe place, a nurturing place for Morgan to hide out when his dad was in one of his moods. He’d had a lot of those after Morgan’s mom left.

Morgan never understood how Julie could have traded such a safe, loving home for the threat of working with street kids. He’d kept up with her life through the town grapevine, not intentionally, of course, but the news always made its way to him through one source or another: Did you hear that Julie got her master’s degree? Julie was honored by the city of Seattle? Julie is saving runaway teenagers?

“So, I heard you went into the family business,” she said.

“Yep. I’m police chief.”

“How are things in Port Whisper?” she asked.

“Busy. Developers have discovered us. A new resort is under construction. Don’t you talk to your sister?”

“I do,” she said defensively.

“Seems like her snack shop and tourist business has picked up.”

“Never pegged Lana for a tour guide in a small town.”

“Right, it’s not as exciting as saving street kids,” he let slip.

She pinned him with her golden eyes. “What I meant was, she was always so shy.”

“How long will you be in Port Whisper?” He hoped not long.

“Not sure. Depends on how long it takes to help Mom.”

He’d managed to avoid Julie the other times she’d visited. He’d thrown himself into a home-improvement project at Dad’s, or taken a few days off to go fishing with the guys, anything but come face-to-face with heartbreak. He’d been a fool to think she’d choose Morgan over her career. But back then he was young and hopeful.

Buddy, you have so not gotten over this woman .

“I feel like we need to talk about something,” she started.

“What’s that?”

“You know.”

He glanced at her, casual, aloof. “No, I really don’t.” He hesitated. “Oh, you mean why you were terrified a few minutes ago?”

With a disappointed frown, she glanced out the passenger window to study the side-view mirror.

“Did you know that guy?” he pressed.

“No. He was just a guy I gave directions to.”

“Which is why you were freaked when you rushed around the corner?”

She rested her forehead against the window and closed her eyes, indicating the conversation was over.

Good. He’d successfully avoided the gut-wrenching subject of their failed relationship. Why did she want to go there, anyway?

He clicked on the radio to a country station. A song about lost love and regret filled the car. He punched the radio off.

During his tour in Iraq he’d faced off against insurgents, been shot at and nearly blown up a handful of times. But nothing made him feel as threatened as sitting next to Jules.

For some reason, being near her exposed his vulnerability like nothing else could. He felt as if he was going into battle without a flak jacket, weapons or common sense.

And he didn’t believe in coincidences.

What’s the message, Lord? What am I supposed to do with this situation?

He wished he could trust his heart to guide him.

Unfortunately, the woman sitting inches away had destroyed his heart. That’s probably why he couldn’t get close to Anna, and why he used his charming smile and jokes to keep people at a distance. He never let anyone inside. It wasn’t worth the risk.

Maybe running into Julie was his final test, his last challenge before being able to move on.

And he was so ready to move on.

The warmth of Morgan’s hand holding hers shot a sense of peace across her body as they lay in the grass overlooking Puget Sound. She closed her eyes, savoring this moment, wanting it to last forever .

“Are you cold?” he asked .

She turned to look into his blue-green eyes, filled with love and adoration .

“No, I’m perfect,” she whispered .

“That you are.” He leaned over and kissed her, his lips soft and gentle. Her heart tapped against her chest .

Love. This is what love feels like, she thought. She wanted to hang on to it. Forever .

Then it was gone, her lips suddenly chilled, her hands frigid .

She opened her eyes to an empty spot where Morgan had just been beside her .

“Morgan?”

A gunshot echoed across the water. She jumped to her feet and spun around to see Morgan fall to his knees, clutching his chest .

“Morgan!”

She rushed to him, gripping his shoulders, searching his eyes. They were coal-black, dead. He fell to the ground, blood staining his shirt .

“No!” A sob wracked her chest .

“Yes,” a voice said. Through tear-filled eyes she glanced up, struggling to focus on the man standing a few feet away. “And now it’s your turn.” BANG!

“No!” she screamed.

“Julie, wake up.”

She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see past the shooter’s black eyes…Morgan’s lifeless eyes. Heartbreak ripped through her.