I'll Be There Page 2

  Another text came in behind it. Love you. XOXO.

  The ambulance siren blared in the distance, cutting through the weepy, raw morning.

  And behind him, Pete lost his morning donut.

  She’d survived too much to give up now.

  “What do you mean, the guest list exceeds the fire code?” Liza hiked the phone against her shoulder as she pulled out the puff pancake her wedding coordinator-slash-caterer Grace Sharpe had made last night and shoved into her fridge.

  “The community center can only hold 178 people. And Grace’s last estimates had you at 180—”

  “What if we...I don’t know—stand up? Ditch the tables?” Oh, if Grace heard her, she’d murder the bride on the spot. Liza peeled off the cellophane wrapper, then set her oven to preheat.

  “I’m sorry, Liza, there’s nothing I can do. That’s the fire code limit.”

  Just perfect. She ran a finger against her temple, now starting to throb. “I’ll figure it out.” She hung up and noticed Conner’s return text.

  Ok.

  No smiley face, no I love you.

  Just Ok.

  Which probably meant nothing and she was simply hearing the voices that told her that the last thing Conner Young wanted to do was drive halfway across the country, don a tux, and stand in front of a crowd of her friends making promises.

  The guy simply didn’t make promises. Not after he’d broken the most important ones in his life. So, him asking to marry her, to make an epic, life-altering, forever vow to her seemed like enough of a sacrifice.

  But, no. She had to have the wedding of the century.

  A wedding that was careening quickly out of control.

  But she had no choice. The wedding had to go off, had to be amazing. Because then she might tell herself that she’d put herself back together. That she was strong enough to follow the man she loved back into her nightmares. Or at least tell him the truth: She didn’t want to move to Montana.

  “Are you okay, Aunt Liza?”

  Raina Christiansen let herself into Liza’s tiny cottage, setting two-year-old Layla down to run across the room, arms outstretched. The little girl wore a pair of black leggings and a shirt that said “Nana loves me.” Clearly a gift from Ingrid Christiansen, who’d turned a little crazy over her grandchildren.

  Liza scooped up her grandniece, kissing her cheek, running her fingers into her side to make Layla giggle. “How’s my favorite princess today?”

  “Ina gonna be fwower girl.”

  “Yes you are, baby,” Liza said, kissing her again before setting her down.

  Raina dropped a bag of groceries on the round table. She wore her dark hair pulled back in an orange headband, a matching sun dress, a white sweater. “Okay, I picked up grapes, a melon, bananas, and a watermelon. Is Grace here yet?”

  Liza peeked into the bag. “Not yet. But she assembled some sort of German pancake last night and left it in my fridge. I’m supposed to put it in to bake—oh shoot, ten minutes ago.”

  “Let’s get going,” Raina said. “We have a little party to pull together.” She scooped up Layla, who was rummaging through the diaper bag she’d dropped on the floor next to the table, and parked the toddler on her hip. “Casper said he’d scoot down and pick up Layla so I could stick around and help. He’s helping Darek get the resort ready for tonight’s campfire.”

  Liza ran a hand across her forehead. “This was a bad idea.” She blew out a breath, staring at the food.

  “What—what do you mean?”

  Liza picked up her phone. “Conner’s going to be late.”

  Silence. Then, “So what? So you push the surprise back a little. Have you even heard from his friends? You never know—their flight could be late. I heard a storm is headed up the shore.”

  “Yeah, exactly. In the form of this crazy wedding.” Liza walked over to the front window, staring out past her porch to the pebbled beach along the harbor, the lake lapping the shore under the arch of the cloudless sky. All blue, nothing amiss. The perfect Deep Haven day.

  “It’s just pre-wedding jitters,” Raina said. She’d set Layla on the sofa and was feeding her a cracker from the diaper bag. “I understand—I had them too, right before—”

  “It was just you, Casper, and his family. I’ve invited half the town.”

  Raina drew in a breath and Liza turned, made a face. “I’m sorry. Of course you were freaking out. Especially after...well, you’d waited so long to finally marry Casper, and with Owen there...”

  This was why she needed to stop talking. “I’m sorry. I do this when I’m nervous. Say stupid things.” She gathered Raina into her embrace. “I’m so happy for you. And God worked everything out.”

  “Yes, He did.” Raina leaned back, caught Liza’s hands. “Just breathe. You’re going to have an amazing weekend. Perfect. And marry the man you love.”

  “Except the poor man desperately wanted to elope, and I’m beginning to see why.” She walked over to her rolltop desk and picked up her seating chart. “Three days before the wedding, and the venue says I have too many people. I either cut the guest list or we can’t hold the reception at the community center.”

  “What happened? I thought you and Grace went over the list. You mailed out exactly the right amount of invitations.”

  “Then I’d meet people in the grocery store and they’d ask when the wedding was, and I...I kept inviting more.” Liza made a face. “I’ve lived in Deep Haven for nearly fifteen years. Who am I not going to invite? My chiropractor, who lets me come in on Saturdays for emergencies? Or maybe Eli Hueston, the ex-police chief who’s pulled me out of the ditch more than once? Or perhaps the Dekkers? Because I can hardly not invite the mayor and his wife.”

  Raina gave her a pitying look. “Your heart is too big.”

  “No, I’m a wimp. I can’t say no. And now my cake is too small, and Grace is going to strangle me when she finds out she’ll have to order more food. And I’m going to have to set up tables down at the park on the harbor and try to keep the seagulls from eating the dinner rolls.” Not to mention she’d hardly slept last night, every moment with her eyes closed an opportunity to smell the feral breath on her face, hear the roar, feel the claws rip—

  “Sit down.” Raina took her hand, brought her over to one of her overstuffed sofas. Sat next to her. “Listen, it’s going to be fine. Once Conner gets here—”

  Liza winced. “He’s going to take one look at this chaos and run. He’s not a guy who likes...a fuss. He’s a simple man. He lives in a fifth wheel, for cryin’ in the sink. Carries practically the sum of his belongings around in a duffel bag. He wanted to elope, keep it simple. Sane. And I’m giving him...the Titanic of weddings.”

  Raina smirked. “It’s not that bad.”

  “It is. The man has a contact list of eighteen people. Eighteen. I texted every single person asking them if they wanted to come to our wedding. You know how many responded, besides his smoke jumper crew?”

  Raina raised a shoulder.

  “Six. Jim and Lacey Micah, Mac and Andee McCloud, and Dani and Will Masterson, all from his previous SAR team. Of them, only Jim and Lacey Micah are coming. Two people from his life. He doesn’t even have any family.”

  Raina was frowning, Liza’s words obviously seeping in. “Why not?”

  Liza fingered her ring, centering her thumb on the beautiful diamond Conner had given her the day last fall when he’d driven her to up to some magnificent view in Glacier National Park, dropped to his knee, and proposed.

  He’d suggested even then that they simply get back on his bike and find a preacher.

  “His parents died when he was a teenager. Car crash. He and his brother grew up with his grandfather. He passed away a little over a year ago of cancer. And his brother, well he was murdered.”

  The word registered on Raina’s face.

  “Yeah, they never solved the case, and for a long time it haunted Conner. I think he’s made peace with it, but...”

  “S
o, that’s why you planned this little party.”

  “I thought that getting together with his friends from Team Hope, his old SAR team, before all the chaos started would remind him that this is his special weekend, too.”

  Her phone vibrated, and she got up to retrieve the text. “Super. It’s the florist. They said the arrangements are delayed because of the storm.”

  “We don’t need them until Sunday,” Raina said. “And we’ll order cupcakes from Lucy at World’s Best Donuts for the overflow of guests.” She got up. “You’re getting married. That’s all that is important here.”

  Liza pressed her hand against her stomach. “You’re right. I just wish this weekend was already over, that we were back from our honeymoon...and settled in here.”

  “I wondered why you weren’t packing. He’s moving to Deep Haven?”

  Um. “I don’t know.”

  Raina frowned and picked up Layla, who had found a sippy cup in her diaper bag. “You don’t know.”

  “He wants me to move to Montana, but I have a number of orders I needed to fulfill, and I don’t exactly have a kiln or a throwing table in his fifth wheel.” She sighed. “He told me he had it figured out, so I’m hoping that means he’s planning on living here.”

  “He could join the fire service here,” Raina said.

  Liza’s hand went to her upper arm, traced the ugly scar that traversed it, the puncture wounds in her shoulder that still throbbed sometimes, an echo of the trauma from last summer. “Yeah, maybe.”

  She sighed.

  “What?” Raina said.

  “I just...what if...what if we’re rushing into this. It’s only been ten months since...um...”

  “Since you survived a terrible trauma? Since you and Conner saved a girl’s life? Since you became the bravest person I’ve ever met?” Raina raised an eyebrow.

  “Since he panicked over nearly losing me to a grizzly attack and asked me to marry him?” Liza slipped the phone into her pocket. “He never actually said he was moving here. I just...oh, no.” She probably needed aspirin for her pounding head. “What are we doing?”

  “Hey! Catering services here.” Grace Sharpe, formerly a Christiansen, opened her door. She’d cut her blonde hair chin-short, wearing it down. She wore capris and a white T-shirt with the words “Bride’s Side” in pink.

  Liza didn’t know Grace well, but the moment Raina suggested she hire her as her caterer, Grace had stepped up to save her. And with her husband, Max, away on so many week-long hockey trips for the Minnesota Blue Ox, Grace had spent way too many hours preparing.

  Yes, with Grace at the helm, it would all work out.

  “I come bearing freshly baked muffins. And look who I found outside.” She held the door open for Mona, as Liza’s oldest and dearest friend came in carrying four cups of freshly ground, home-roasted coffee in a tray, direct from her bookstore and coffee shop.

  “Liza’s getting cold feet,” Raina said.

  “What?” A headband captured Mona’s blonde hair, and she looked put together, exactly how a matron of honor should, in a pair of white jeans and a purple T-shirt. She set the coffee container on the table and tugged out two cups. “You just need a white chocolate mocha.” She sat next to Liza. “Snap out of it.”

  Liza offered a slim smile. Took the coffee. “I’m not getting cold feet—okay, maybe a little. I just realized how little Conner and I have prepared for this. Sure, I love him and he loves me, but...I don’t know. Maybe it’s not enough. I’ve been single for a long time. And so has he.”

  “So? Even better—Conner is worth the wait.” Mona winked.

  For a moment Liza sank into the memory of his arms, those wide shoulders, and the thought of knowing him—okay...she took a sip of her coffee. Another.

  Mona laughed. “I felt the same way about Joe on our wedding day. Terrified, overwhelmed, delighted—”

  “But you two knew you’d live in Deep Haven, happily ever after. Conner is...well, he’s not Reese Clark, penning adventures. Conner actually, well—he lives them.”

  Mona raised an eyebrow.

  Oh, she was in rare foot-in-mouth form today. “I didn’t mean that Joe is boring. He’s amazing. A best-selling author, right here among us.”

  “He’s also on the volunteer fire department,” Mona said. “Trust me, that’s adventurous enough.”

  Liza looked at her coffee.

  Mona touched her arm. “It’s okay. And yes, Conner is...well, he certainly lives dangerously.”

  “He jumps out of airplanes into fire for a living,” Liza said. “And likes it.”

  Grace had carried the bags into the kitchen and now returned to the conversation, pulling out a cup of coffee from the tray. “Max gets in fights for a living.”

  “He plays hockey,” Raina said.

  “There’s a lot of fighting,” Grace said. “I hate it. I can’t watch when he throws down the gloves, even if it’s part of the game. Afterwards, he’s like a caged animal, pacing, the adrenaline radiating off of him. I send him to work out, get it out of his system.”

  “That accounts for the shoulders.” Raina grinned.

  “And the abs,” Grace said, meeting her smile. “I don’t hate it.”

  “Conner used to call me after he came in from a fire, or sometimes when he was out there camping. He was always...tired. And stressed out. And yeah, he loves it, but it’s also dangerous and...” Liza took another bracing sip. “I guess I thought maybe he’d give that up once we...oh man, we are so not ready.” She set her coffee down. “See, I told him we should wait, but he was just so excited, and...”

  “And you’ll figure it out.” Mona took Liza by the shoulders. “Take a breath. Conner Young is crazy about you. And you’re crazy about him.”

  “But what if that’s not enough? I can’t ask him to give up firefighting for me. He’s already lost so much. Firefighting has given him back himself. A team. A family.”

  “You’re going to be his family, Liza,” Grace said softly. “Trust me. That changes everything.”

  Maybe.

  “Stop it,” Mona said.

  Liza glanced at her.

  “You’re panicking. And dreaming up a few lies.” She raised an eyebrow. “Again.”

  Ho-kay.

  “Conner is dying to marry you. Nothing is going to keep him from showing up at the altar on Monday.” She paused. “A Memorial Day wedding. You’re like royalty or something. The princess of Deep Haven.”

  “Hardly,” Liza said but Mona took Liza’s hand, pulled her up.

  “You’ll see. This weekend is going to be perfect, and you’re going to live happily ever after.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Grief was lethal. It stayed tucked neatly away, pinned at the edges, until one random moment opened the sealed fissures, and suddenly it poured through the cracks, bleeding out in a flood that could take a man to his knees, leave him broken, wrecked.

  Distraught.

  Conner pressed his hand against the weeping windowpane of the Two Harbors McDonald’s, the cold rasping up his arm, a shot of bracing reality.

  He needed to pull himself together, tuck away the fraying edges that left his entire body humming with unrequited adrenaline, and show up the healed, whole man that Liza expected. Needed.

  Deserved.

  “Should I take you to the dog-run area, maybe let you off your leash?” Jed came up beside him, holding his order ticket.

  “No. Just get your food and let’s get back on the road.”

  The finest rays of sun had wrestled through the layer of gray clouds, glinting off the puddles of the grimy pavement. A line of mud-coated cars trailed out from the drive-through, and the tiny waiting area swam with hungry tourists, whiny kids pulling on them, begging for chocolate shakes and Happy Meals.

  Jed said nothing, just turned and leaned his shoulder against the window to consider Conner. “You’ve been silent for the last sixty miles. Is it the kid?”

  It had taken them over an hour to get b
ack on the road, negotiate the bottled traffic, clear Duluth, and finally escape to Highway 61, the last stretch to Deep Haven, some ninety miles farther up the road.

  “I’m fine,” he said.

  Jed said nothing.

  “Fine. The crash—it’s like I saw Justin’s ghost, rising to haunt me.” He folded his arms, shook his head, as if he could jerk himself free. “Sorry.”

  Jed lifted a shoulder. “We all have ghosts.”

  Conner watched a family—three kids, a wife, husband—claim a table, their Happy Meals toppling over on their tray. “I guess it just doesn’t feel right to get married, move on without settling my brother’s score. Bringing his killer to justice.”

  “Didn’t you say that even the NSA couldn’t nail down the killer?”

  Conner’s mouth formed a tight line. “They weren’t me.”

  Jed raised an eyebrow.

  Conner met his gaze, didn’t blink.

  “Just one hour with the file, a computer, and my brother’s cell phone. It’s all we have to go on—all the evidence was destroyed when they burned his body. But the NSA won’t let me near it.” Just one hour to do some ethical hacking, find the digital trail. “It’s like they don’t care.”

  “You didn’t betray your brother by not finding his killer,” Jed said quietly.

  Conner shot him a look, because that pretty much summed it up. “The NSA pointed the finger at someone he was working with, inside the cult. Someone named Blue. He disappeared around the same time Justin was killed. The NSA thinks he might be dead, too. My gut agrees. Justin was killed by someone in the terror organization he’d embedded. Maybe his cover was blown...but I have so many scenarios in my head, who knows. Believe me, I’ve spent too many nights dissecting the what-ifs.”

  Reuben came up, holding a take-out bag. “Are we having a personal crisis over here?”

  Conner frowned.

  “Hey, I know what it looks like to stew over something,” Reuben said.

  “Something like that.” Jed checked his slip against the number just called and left to pick up his food.

  Pete took his place, holding two breakfast burritos, a Coke. “Not eating, Conner?”