Dana sank into the kiss. For the first time in days, nothing else mattered. The spinning chaos, the lingering questions about her identity and how to prove her innocence... All of it faded into a peace she’d never known before. Peace that quieted her mind but thrummed in her heart. This was sheer emotion. For the first time in her life, she let herself truly feel.
It lifted the essence of who she was to the surface. Without a career, without a care in the world, Dana was simply herself. It didn’t matter whom she’d been in the past or whom she would be in the future, because none of it would change Rich’s thoughts and feelings. He only wanted her to be who she was right now.
Right now. When her life was a hurricane of uncertainty. When her mother was in danger. When death could be lurking around any corner.
Reality rushed between them, colder than the December air. They couldn’t do this. She couldn’t commit a part of her heart to any man when none of her life was her own.
When tomorrow could put him between her and whoever seemed to want her, dead or alive.
It took more willpower than she’d ever known she possessed, but Dana dipped her chin, parting their lips but slipping her forehead against his cheek. “Rich...”
“I know.” He didn’t pull away any farther than she had.
They hovered for the moment, in their own space, apart from the world. It would be so easy to stay here and pretend there was no danger. To pretend they could be a normal couple without the baggage of his past, the weight of her career and the threat of death around them.
Finally, he eased away, though he seemed reluctant to let her go.
Dana could appreciate the hesitation. It bored into her, as well.
Exhaling loudly, Rich drew her against his chest briefly, then released her. “Now isn’t the time for either of us. Once all of this is over and you’re back in your job, can we agree we have a lot of talking to do?”
Once you’re back in your job. In Atlanta. Her entire life revolved around her career. Helping others...it was her calling. What she did. What she’d trained for. Who she wanted to be. She couldn’t turn her back on it. Her job was half the reason they were on this crazy run. Not only to save her physical life, but to preserve her identity as a marshal, as well.
Whereas his life was built around the retreat center in North Carolina. It was a noble thing. Something he needed in order to continue to heal and to help others heal. She couldn’t ask him to walk away for a relationship with the kind of woman who would always be needed on the job. Criminals didn’t rest, and the danger to protect witnesses never slept.
The truth twisted her stomach until it ached. She sat up straight, braced her hands against the rough wood of the dock and shifted a few inches away from him. “There’s nothing to talk about. We can’t do this. Our lives are in two different places.”
There had to be a way to sever this thing between them, to let it die a natural death without wrecking both their hearts.
Dana knew how. “We’re not living in the real world right now. Everything is heightened. This could all just be a reaction to almost dying more than once. To being out here, where the world isn’t digging in. Where we need each other right now, but not...” But not forever. It was the half-truth Dana had created to protect them, and she couldn’t even bring herself to say it.
His lips drew together into a tight line, and he stared over her shoulder at something farther up the river. “You’re right.” He reached to his other side, handed her the metal box and stood. Looking down at her, he said, “Because it’s all about the job. It will always be all about the job. It’s what we live for, right?” His voice was hard, laced with anger and something else, something Dana couldn’t identify.
It wrung her emotions, the pain swift and sharp, but if she caved to her feelings now, it would only hurt worse later.
Rich turned and walked away, his stride purposeful, his posture straight.
He had to understand that without her work, she had nothing to stand for. Beyond stopping whoever was out to get her, wasn’t this all about her job? Proving she hadn’t lied so her superiors wouldn’t revoke her security clearances? Returning her life to normal?
As Rich disappeared into the shadows along the tall hedges separating the yard from the river, she wasn’t sure of anything any longer.
That was the entire reason she had to free herself from the lies about her past and the men trying to destroy her future. Because she was in danger of giving her heart to a man whose past wouldn’t let him accept it.
Of losing herself in a way she could never get back.
“Did you really do that?” Dana settled her coffee mug on the wood-plank kitchen table and stared at Emily Webster. She’d met a lot of fascinating women in her line of work, but some of Emily’s stories had even Dana’s head struggling to wrap around them.
Boy, did she need something to wrap her head around besides Rich and his kiss.
She also needed the coffee, because stuffed tigers, death threats and her roiling emotions had made her very familiar with the night sounds of the Webster home.
“I really did.” Emily reached back and tightened her blond ponytail. “Don’t let Corey get wind of the risk I took on that mission, though. It happened before I met him, and I’ve never told him the story. He likes to pretend he’s got it all together and he doesn’t worry about me when I fly, but it’s a front. He frets like an old grandma.” She stretched out her foot and pointed to her running shoe. “I track my runs with GPS when I’m training, but Corey has the app on his phone, too. If he gets to worrying that I’ve been hit by a car or taken a header into a hole somewhere, he looks to make sure I haven’t fallen into a time warp. When he was out of the country once, he followed one of my races on his phone. It’s kind of sweet.”
Dana chuckled. Her interactions with Corey Webster had left a favorable impression of the former soldier with a slight limp. He seemed like a nice guy. “Sometimes it’s good if they know what it feels like to worry.” Not that she spoke from any sort of relationship experience.
Not that she ever would.
“Okay, what’s the look for?” Emily stood, grabbed the coffee carafe and refilled their cups. “We were laughing, but now you look like you live in a garbage can on Sesame Street.”
“It’s nothing.” Dana tipped her head toward her filled mug. “Thanks. It will be a wonder if I ever sleep again with all of the caffeine I’ve consumed this week.”
“There’s a real danger there.”
“Danger is a funny word.” Because it could apply to caffeine, killers...and kisses.
Sliding into her chair, Emily shoved a plate of homemade gingersnaps toward Dana. “You know, I haven’t asked a lot of questions about why you need to hide. Knowing Rich, I’m certain there’s a good reason. Not going to lie, though. I’m definitely curious.”
Dana liked Emily more every second. She seemed like the kind of person who formed instant lifetime friendships, the kind who didn’t hide behind a mask or let propriety stand in her way. “You’re not nosy at all, are you?” She let a smile temper the words.
Emily grinned as she held up a cookie and prepared to take a bite. “Not a bit.”
“The short version is my parents aren’t who I thought they were, which led to WitSec thinking I lied in order to obtain my security clearance.”
Wincing, Emily set her cookie down and brushed the crumbs onto her plate. “Ooh. They really don’t like that. Lying is worse than anything you could actually be lying about.”
“Exactly. So I’m on leave until I can prove I told the truth as I knew it. But it gets worse. It seems someone wants me dead. I’m pretty sure it’s related to the identity of my birth parents, but I don’t have concrete proof yet.” Dana twisted her mug between her hands, letting the warmth push away some of the cold she’d felt deep inside since Rich left her on the dock the night before. “My mom gave me a box that was supposed to give me answers, but it only contained legal documents and a picture.”
“Did it help?”
“The picture did, in a way, but it still doesn’t do anything to restore my job. This is so hard. I protect people in situations like this. I don’t live these situations myself. I don’t need protecting myself, but my teammates think differently, so I have Rich as a bodyguard.”
“I can think of worse bodyguards. He’s a good man. He’s been through a lot more than most men could handle, but he’s definitely one of the good ones.”
“He is.” Truly. Which made everything harder. Unfortunately, her heart was involved. Maybe she’d developed some sort of hero crush.
Dana sighed. Who was she trying to kid here? Everything inside her knew this was so much more than a superficial infatuation. This was a connection with another person like she’d never experienced before.
“The lady blushes.” Emily laughed quietly. “So you noticed those dreamy gray eyes of his?”
“You noticed his eyes? You’re an old married lady.”
“I didn’t say I was attracted to him. I said he had amazing eyes. Even Corey says so, but you can never tell him I told you.” She smiled again. “So nothing in the box helped? No clues?”
Dana laid out the story of the box but left out who her real parents were. The world would look at her differently if they knew she was the daughter of notorious criminals.
“So you are your job, huh?” There was a light of understanding in Emily’s eyes that nearly brought tears to Dana’s.
She nodded. “It’s all I’ve done my entire adult life. It was all I ever wanted to do. Other kids played school or wanted to be firefighters. I always wanted to be a part of WitSec. I have no idea what started it.” Maybe something deep inside her had known all along she was hiding, that her identity was tainted. Rich talked about God and a story. Maybe God used her subconscious to give her sympathy for other souls struggling with who they pretended to be.
“Hmm.” Emily eyed the cookies, then picked up a crumb and popped it into her mouth. “Ever been in love?”
Dana flinched. This was getting way too personal after last night’s kiss. “Only with the job.”
“Lot of danger there, you know.” Emily crossed her arms and sat back in the wooden spindled chair. “Jobs are temporary. You might stay at one for decades, but it’s still temporary. If you think about it, everything is temporary. Even life.”
“Kind of fatalistic, isn’t it?” If everything was temporary, then why bother trying to do anything? Might as well sit at home and eat potato chips until you died.
“It’s kind of freeing, actually.”
“How so?”
“All I ever wanted to be was a combat helicopter pilot. There was a time when that would have been impossible. Women could fly, but only in support. There were some trailblazers who made a way for us, and I was blessed to meet one of them when I was at Fort Campbell. She probably saved my life.”
“Saved your life? You went down on a mission?”
“Metaphorically speaking. Dana, I was like you. I had the job I’d dreamed about and fought for. I wore it across my chest literally and symbolically. I didn’t need anything else. I lived and breathed the job. When I wasn’t flying, I was studying how to fly better or I was hanging out with other pilots. Being a pilot was literally everything.”
“Nothing wrong with that. It’s how you get to be the best.”
Emily’s smile was small and maybe a bit sad. “You lose your life in the process.”
“No. You live the job.”
“Until you lose the job. Then what have you got? I got a concussion once, unrelated to work. Stupid incident, really. I couldn’t fly. I was totally lost. I mean, it was temporary, but it completely messed with my head. I was headed for a pretty good downward spiral, because who was I if I couldn’t fly?”
“Like me.”
“Exactly. That’s when I met this other pilot. She was one of the first women to fly in combat. She fought for every assignment, every school, every mission. Women like her are the reason women like me get to fly. The thing is, she met a man. Got married. Had children. Walked away from the job.”
“Wait. What?” How? How did a woman who’d literally been a pioneer walk away from the job she’d fought so hard to attain?
“Having a family was more important. Love was more important. What God had planned for her was more important. She’s the one who got my head on straight. A job is a job. It’s not who you are, it’s something you do. You’re blessed with a chance to figure out who you are, because listening to you talk, I’m not sure you’ve ever known who Dana Santiago is.” She aimed her index finger at Dana. “Don’t tell me she’s a top-tier deputy marshal. That’s exactly the opposite of what I’m saying.”
“But she is.” The conversation ought to make her angry, but Dana was too numb. So much had hit her, she’d lost the ability to feel.
“I met Corey two days after that conversation. If the other pilot hadn’t talked sense into me, I’d be convinced I was totally happy as a career pilot while being seriously miserable. Problem is, I probably wouldn’t even realize it.”
“How is your marking your identity by a relationship different than marking it by your career?”
“Two reasons.” Leaning her forearm on the table, Emily held up two fingers. “First, there are multiple facets to who I am, and soon I’ll add more. I’m hoping mom comes soon, but that’s in God’s hands.” She swiped at invisible crumbs, then looked up with a deep breath. “Second, I didn’t say my main identity was in my marriage. It’s in Jesus.”
“I know.” She’d been raised in church, prayed, had been a Christian as long as she could remember. So why did everything Rich and Emily said sound foreign?
“Do you really know?”
Now the hackles did go up. Nobody got to question her relationship with Jesus.
Emily raised her hand before Dana could speak. “I’m only saying you might have your identity placed in something now instead of something forever. You’re who Jesus says you are, not who the world says.” She sat back in her chair again. “Not to preach at you, but He didn’t die for you because you’re a deputy marshal or your parents are whoever. He died for you because you’re you. Period.”
Easy to say, but nowhere in the Bible did it read, This is who you are, Dana. Maybe finding out the truth needed to start with prayer. Real prayer. Not the one-sentence wonders she’d been tossing into the air lately.
The back door opened, and Corey walked in, followed by Rich. With them came a breath of frigid morning air and the faint scent of sawdust. When Rich’s eyes found hers, Dana felt it in her toes.
Maybe praying ought to start now, before her emotions ripped apart her sanity.