was thinking about. Finding her fiancé with the other woman had been an accident. Preston had simply planned to drop off a Bible and couple’s devotional at Caleb’s house as an anonymous wedding gift—a symbol to himself of wishing the best for Holly’s marriage. But instead he’d stumbled upon the fact Caleb was cheating. No way could he let Holly unknowingly form an alliance with a traitor, so he’d snapped a couple photos with his phone and stuck them in her mailbox. Of course, being a philanderer didn’t mean the man was capable of murder...
“No. I don’t think so.” She looked to him, fear etched like stone in the gray depths of her gaze. “What do I do?”
Well, she couldn’t die. He wouldn’t let her. His family had already lost too much. She’d already lost too much. “I’m going to have to go back into hiding, Holly. But I’m here for you until I figure out who planted that bomb. You’re going to be safe.”
She stepped toward him. Probably wanting a hug for support, now that she was momentarily in the acceptance phase of shock. Whether it lasted or not, he couldn’t be there for her like that. They would have to sever their connection soon, and it would be better if there was less to sever.
He grasped her hands to hold her at arm’s distance. “You can trust me, but we can’t be friends. I’ll be leaving again, so I can’t get close to you.”
Footsteps thudded outside the front door. The doorknob rattled.
Preston didn’t have any more time to worry about staying aloof. If he was going to consider himself a bodyguard, then he’d have to protect her. He wrapped one arm around her waist and dived behind the couch as the windowpane next to the door shattered.
Holly’s muscles throbbed against the hardwood floor as the lock on the door clicked and the hinges squeaked. Someone was breaking into Preston’s cabin. She held her breath, igniting fire in her lungs.
Footsteps thudded toward them, then stopped in the middle of the room.
She swallowed and looked at Preston to gauge his reaction. His blank expression hid all emotion, but his lack of fear gave her confidence. Did he have a gun? A knife? Experience in hand-to-hand combat? She’d thought she’d known him so well, yet this side of him was completely foreign to her.
He focused past her, looking underneath the couch. She turned her head to see what he saw.
Familiar tan leather boots. But probably just familiar because everybody wore outdoorsy boots in Tahoe. The kind of boots that would have no problem chasing her if she ran for the water or the woods. She’d head for the water. Being barefoot, she couldn’t outrun the intruder. She’d have to outswim him.
The boots turned in a circle, as if the man were studying the small cabin. They tromped into the bathroom, then disappeared as he climbed up the ladder to check out the loft.
Had he gone all the way into the loft? Would she and Preston be able to sneak out without him seeing? She lifted her chin to visually measure the distance between her feet and the sliding glass door. If she could turn herself around, she might be able to slide the door open without making a sound.
But what if the rusty doorframe didn’t cooperate? Or the intruder wasn’t all the way up the ladder and he saw the door move? That was where Preston’s military training would have to come in. Though if he had the survival skills she imagined he had, he should be the one planning their escape. She didn’t know what she was doing.
She sent him a look of panic.
His fingers found hers. Gently squeezed. As if that was supposed to be comforting.
Did he know who had broken in? Did he know why? He’d said he had enemies of his own. Was this guy after him or her?
Help, Lord.
A phone jingled.
She jolted at the sound, clutching Preston’s hand like a stress ball. Okay, now she was glad he’d made the connection.
Where was the noise coming from? Maybe she should let him go to silence the cell phone in case it was about to give away their hiding place. If it did, he’d definitely need his hand free so he could leap up and pop the bad guy in the jaw.
She uncurled her fingers and retracted her arm to give him room to fight.
The phone jingled again, the sound growing louder. But at least it was on the other side of the couch.
Preston shook his head. Not his phone?
“Yeah?” A gruff voice demanded.
Holly froze. Who answered their phone in the middle of breaking and entering? And had she heard that voice before?
“The woman got away on a Jet Ski.”
Holly bit her lip to keep from gasping. This had to be the bomber. And he was talking about her. Had someone hired him to kill her? Someone like her ex’s new girlfriend?
“Yeah, I’m sure. A guy just showed up at her dock and took her to another cabin. I had to drive to get here, and it looks like they’ve already left. No car in the driveway.”
She searched for Preston’s eyes. He’d just gone from being dead to being “a guy.” This could mean trouble for both of them. But at least the bomber didn’t know they were still in the room.
Preston squinted toward the direction of the phone conversation as if it took all his concentration to make out the words.
“I’m inside the cabin.”
Pause.
“I broke in through a window.”
In place of the silence, a muted but angry voice yelled something in return. Could Preston tell if it was a man or woman on the phone? Because she couldn’t.
“Well, since I’m already here, I’ll just plant another bomb.”
Another bomb? Preston’s cabin was going to be destroyed the way hers had been? All out of a jealous rage?
Her fingernails bit into the flesh of her palm. Maybe Preston wouldn’t have to fight the bomber after all. She was angry enough to take him.
More jumbled yelling.
“I won’t use a time bomb again.”
What other kinds of bombs were there? Holly had seen electronic detonators in movies. Or there were car bombs that ignited when the key was turned. Then there were the terrorists who strapped bombs to themselves. But it was ridiculous for Caleb’s new girlfriend to send someone after her with a bomb. She was the only person Holly could think of who would be after her. Preston had mentioned a few other reasons someone might want her dead, but they all seemed so abstract.
Her skin grew slick with a cold sweat. She shivered.
“No more bombs? Fine.”
Holly closed her eyes. Thank You, Jesus.
“Yes. I can do that. I’m on my way.”
