Angela Strong - Presumed Dead

Holly.

She didn’t turn or respond as the other car passed. She must not have known the man or been expecting a package. Could the stranger have set a bomb for her?

Preston’s mind whirled with possible scenarios. Some ridiculous. Some disastrous. But the worst scenario would be the one where he stood by and watched while someone else got hurt. He’d made that mistake before.

No matter how badly he wanted to shake the dread that gripped his heart, he couldn’t deny the fact Holly’s life might be in danger. He’d have to jump onto his parents’ old Jet Ski and race what he suspected was a bomb. Keeping his life a secret wasn’t worth risking hers.

Preston dropped the binoculars and grabbed his keys. Adrenaline surged.

Maybe she wouldn’t recognize him after four years. Maybe she wouldn’t believe it was even him. Or maybe she’d be too traumatized by the coming explosion to get a good look at his face.

If he reached the cabin in time to save her.

* * *

Holly Fontaine kicked her shoes off and padded barefoot down the warm, smooth dock. As a child, she’d always dived right into the lake, but as a woman—specifically, a woman scorned—she had other plans.

She pulled the sparkling engagement ring from her pocket. What had she been thinking, accepting the gaudy thing in the first place? It wasn’t even her style. Caleb had insisted he’d paid a fortune for it and she deserved it. She’d made the mistake of listening to all her friends, who were so easily charmed by his expensive taste in jewelry, perfect smile and quick wink. They’d told her she wouldn’t ever heal from a past heartbreak if she didn’t move on. Now she had a second scar. Only this one wasn’t in her heart. It was from the knife in her back.

At least she’d come to a good place to heal. Though coming alone felt more like punishment than anything else. But how else was she going to learn to reconnect with God? He was the One she should have asked about Caleb in the first place rather than just assuming she was being given a second chance at love.

“You’re enough for me, Lord,” she said aloud. But did she believe it?

The smooth metal circle pinched between thumb and forefinger had offered promise. The promise of strong arms to hold her, as well as the promise of babies she could hold in her arms. A family. A place to belong. Now she was alone again.

She looked past the glittering diamond to the reflection of the sun off the water. Lake Tahoe brought back so many memories. Cliff diving. Capture the flag on Fannette Island. Fishing from Preston’s canoe.

Holly ran a hand through her new pixie haircut and sighed. Reminiscence was supposed to get her thoughts off the current pain, but instead it intensified the ache. Why was it that the good guys like Preston Tyler died serving their country while jerks like Caleb Brooks got to live it up?

She was done thinking about Caleb. She had to move on with her life. Again. And that meant getting rid of the ring.

Caleb had said he didn’t want it back, and she certainly didn’t want anything to do with it. Maybe in the future it would wash up onshore and become someone else’s symbol of commitment. Until then, it was her reminder of rejection.

Taking a deep breath of fresh mountain air, Holly cocked her arm and hurled the offensive piece of jewelry as far away as she could. It disappeared in the distance, and she didn’t even get the satisfaction of hearing it plink into the water over the roar of a Jet Ski.

Oh well. She’d done what she should have a long time ago. It was better to be alone than to be with someone who didn’t really love her. Even if it didn’t feel better.

The dock rocked beneath her feet from the WaveRunner heading her direction. Time to get back to solid ground. Though she couldn’t help being a little envious of the driver on the watercraft. So carefree. Able to enjoy the beauty of nature without worry. Escaping the pressures of reality.

She cast a longing gaze toward the person serving as a reminder of the kind of life she used to live. Another sad memory. Except...

She narrowed her eyes. Tilted her head.

Her crazy state of mind played tricks on her emotions. As if the memories weren’t bad enough. But she couldn’t look away. Couldn’t stop studying the man who reminded her a bit of someone from her past. Take off those honey-colored sideburns and the stubble... Shrink the muscles a bit... Erase the frown lines in his forehead...

She had to stop staring. Because now the man was staring straight back. Intensity flashed in his familiar blue eyes. His lips parted. He called her name.

He called her name?

Holly shook her head. She had to be imagining things.

She willed the watercraft to rocket past. To prove her hallucination wrong. To leave her alone with her irrational daydream.

The Jet Ski slowed, sputtered, splashed cold water over her toes. The man on it extended his hand.

The last time this had happened, she’d been twenty-four. Headed back to law school for one more year while a younger version of the man in front of her prepared for his fateful promotion as a helicopter pilot in SOAR—Special Operations Aviation Regiment.

“No.” This wasn’t Preston. It couldn’t be. Preston was dead.

“Get on, Holly. Now.” The voice tugged at the strings she’d used to sew her heart back together when Preston’s charred remains came home in a coffin.

She had to be dreaming. She pinched her leg to wake herself up.

Ouch. Her thigh stung where she’d squeezed.

The man wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pulled her toward the Jet Ski. “This is real.”

Real what? A real kidnapping?

“Who are you?” Her voice rose in panic.

She couldn’t just climb on behind a stranger. If he didn’t look so much like Preston, she would have pushed him off the watercraft by now.

“It’s me, Holly.”

Her mind whirled, almost pulling her head back with the weight of her thoughts. Preston was alive. He was on Lake Tahoe in front of her.

She covered her mouth with her free hand. This was impossible. Unless the corpse in the coffin had belonged to someone else and Preston had recently been released from some kind of POW camp.

She scanned his body, looking for injuries. If she climbed onto the Jet Ski too fast, would she hurt him? This was so unbelievable.

He tugged her arm. “Hurry, doll.”

Her heart reeled at the old nickname. This was Preston all right. In a daze, she slid behind him and clutched both arms around his middle. He was more solid than she remembered. At least he hadn’t been malnourished.

He gunned the engine. The Jet Ski tipped backward as it took off. Just like old times—

Except for the loud blast that erupted behind her. Hot air warmed her skin. Pushed against her. She craned her neck around to see fire shoot into the sky from her family cabin.

Her throat went dry. She clutched Preston tighter. If he hadn’t just picked her up, she would be dead. But why? And how had he known?

* * *

Preston exhaled. He’d picked her up just in time. Though the sooner he dropped her off, the better.

He hadn’t wanted to be right about the time bomb, but at least she was safe. He’d just have to make sure she was out of harm’s way before handing her over to police. Because she had a life to rebuild, and he couldn’t be part of it.

He slowed at his parents’ old, weathered dock. He wouldn’t have brought her here if they had been safe staying out in the open. But apparently someone wanted to kill her.

Her trembling fingers slid from around his waist to his sides as she twisted to look behind them. Her fingernails bit through his T-shirt. “What? What happened? What’s going on? I...I don’t understand.” She looked at his cabin then at him, her eyes still too glazed to be afraid. “Why are we here?”