Christmas Haven Page 2

  “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.

  TWO

  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.

  “Jules.” He pulled her against his chest. “Wake up.”

  A choke-sob escaped her lips as she clung to his leather jacket, willing the images away.

  “It’s okay. You’re home,” Morgan said.

  Boy, did she feel home as she leaned into his solid chest and inhaled the scent of pine mixed with aftershave.

  For a few seconds she basked in the feeling of security…of love. Then the flash of Morgan being shot, the life dimming from his eyes and the blood covering his shirt, shot a new wave of panic through her body.

  “I shouldn’t have fallen asleep,” she said, breaking the embrace and casting a worried glance out the back window. They were at her mom’s.

  “No one followed us,” Morgan offered as if reading her mind.

  She whipped the car door open and charged up the driveway, needing to get away from him. The front door swung open and Mom opened her arms. Julie welcomed the gesture and held on tight.

  “Hey, what’s all this?” her mom asked.

  Julie couldn’t form words past the terror of her nightmare.

  Morgan had been killed. Because of her.

  It had only been a dream, but it felt real. She wouldn’t be responsible for the death of someone she cared about, especially not Morgan. Hadn’t she hurt him enough?

  “Jules, what is it?” Mom pushed.

  “I missed you.”

  “Hey, Morgan,” Mom said over Julie’s shoulder.

  “Mrs. Burns,” he greeted with concern in his voice.

  “What did you do to my daughter?” she joked.

  “She fell asleep in the truck and had a bad dream.”

  Mom stroked Julie’s back. “Probably about work. Let’s get you some tea. Morgan, will you join us?”

  “No,” Julie said, breaking the embrace, but keeping her eyes on her mom. “He’s got someplace to be.”

  “Nonsense. I made chocolate-chip-bacon cookies especially for you, Chief,” she enticed.

  “How could I say no to that?” Morgan handed Julie her backpack.

  “Thanks.” She grabbed it, not making eye contact. “I’m going to wash up.”

  “Oh, okay,” Mom said.

  Julie rushed up the stairs, away from the nightmare, away from Morgan.

  “French Vanilla or Earl Grey?” Mom called after her.

  “You pick,” Julie s
aid, not looking back. She couldn’t. The sight of Morgan, alive and well, standing in her hallway, would only send another wave of panic through her body.

  She tossed her backpack onto the bed and padded into the bathroom. A splash of cold water would shock her out of the fright of the nightmare. Whenever she’d been awakened by a nightmare as a child, Mom would have her splash water on her cheeks. After a few seconds she and Mom would end up giggling at the mess she’d made, essentially blasting the nightmare’s effects to smithereens.

  She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and splashed away. Two, three, four times. Studying her reflection in the mirror she whispered, “What am I doing here?”

  The nightmare made her realize she could have brought trouble to her hometown, perhaps putting innocent people in danger. Her mom. Her sister.

  “Morgan,” she whispered.

  She’d never forgive herself if anything happened to him because of Julie’s job. She’d left him years ago to give him the freedom to live his life and follow his own dreams. She knew if she’d committed to a life with him that he’d follow her to Seattle and attend college or find a job. But that wasn’t his path.

  His path had been to follow in his dad’s footsteps and become a cop.

  “Enough,” she scolded herself. She had to stop thinking about the past and figure out a way to stay safe. To keep her family safe.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have come home,” she whispered.

  But she desperately needed some time with Mom and Lana before she disappeared off the grid for good. She’d been careful to cover her tracks to prevent anyone from following her, so she’d spend a day or two here, crack her brightest smile and enjoy time spent with Mom, Lana…and Morgan.

  No, being with Morgan wasn’t enjoyable. It was torture.

  She closed her eyes, remembering the first part of her nightmare, the feel of his hand warming hers, the kiss…

  “Stop,” she hushed, trying to wipe the image, the feel of their kiss out of her mind.

  It did no good to remember the feeling when it wasn’t real. Well, it had been real ten years ago, but she was pretty sure Morgan felt anything but love toward her right now.

  Of course not. She’d broken his heart to follow her own dream. Fine, that’s what she’d use as her shield. She’d talk about her fulfilling work as a counselor, but not mention how dangerous it could be. That would only worry her mom and bring out Morgan’s protective instincts.

  She didn’t want Morgan getting involved in her life, caring too much. The nightmare drove home the consequences of that possibility.

  She brushed out her long, blond hair, applied lipgloss, only because her lips were dry, and headed downstairs.

  Voices drifted into the hallway as she headed for the kitchen.

  “No, she hasn’t mentioned anything unusually stressful at work. Why?” Mom said.

  “Her nightmare made her cry out in her sleep. I’m wondering if something’s troubling her.”

  Julie stepped into the kitchen. “Which tea did you pick?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “I brewed us a white-pomegranate blend I’ve been wanting to try,” Mom said.

  “Sounds great.” Julie didn’t look at Morgan. Couldn’t look at him for fear the image of a dead Morgan would send a shudder down her spine.

  “I was asking your mother about your job,” Morgan said.

  “I work at Teen Life. It’s great. Helping kids who really need it is so fulfilling,” she said, driving home that kids around Port Whisper had no worries compared to the homeless kids she counseled in the city.

  “I’ll bet,” he said.

  She didn’t expect that response. She figured he’d argue that kids in Port Whisper needed help, too. A memory of him confessing his home situation filled her with guilt. He’d opened up to her, told her that after his mom left, the revered police chief of Port Whisper had occasionally hit Morgan out of grief or frustration, and somehow Morgan felt as if it was his fault.

  Julie pulled out the teacups and set them on the counter.

  “What are some of your recent cases?” Morgan pressed.

  Julie hesitated as she poured tea. He was fishing, trying to figure out what made her cry out in her sleep.

  “Here, I’ll do that,” Mom said. “You sit with Morgan and catch up.”

  Mom kissed Julie’s forehead and smiled. Mom had never given up on Morgan and Julie, especially since Morgan had never married. Julie heard he was engaged once, but it didn’t work out. She wondered why.

  Julie sat down across from Morgan and forced a smile. He quirked a brow. Ugh. He knew her too well.

  “Well,” she started, “we just had a kid placed in a really good foster home. That’s always exciting.”

  “What about her parents?”

  “His. They’re drug addicts. Gave up their rights to their two sons.”

  “How sad,” Mom said.

  Julie didn’t talk much about her work with her mom. She didn’t want to upset her. Or scare her. Julie had found herself in threatening situations from time to time, but she was prepared.

  Except for what she saw earlier this week.

  Mom served the tea and slid a plate of cookies between Julie and Morgan. She joined them at the table.

  “Drug addicts,” Morgan said. “You deal with some pretty dangerous people.”

  “Says the police chief,” Julie quipped.

  “Police chief of a small, sleepy town.”

  A small, sleepy town. Her words spoken to him during one of their last fights.

  “So, Morgan, how’s your dad?” Mom interrupted the awkward moment.

  “As well as can be expected,” he said. “He’s probably got only a few months.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Julie’s mom glanced into her tea.

  “Yeah, well, he led a productive life,” Morgan said. “Family, career, he had it all.”

  Insinuating Julie had given up one for another.

  “Bill is a good man,” Mom said.

  Morgan shifted in his chair. His father appeared to be a good man to the outside world, and most of the time he was good. But Morgan and Julie knew there was another side to the chief, a dark, tortured side.

  “How long are you staying around?” Morgan asked.

  “A few days,” Julie said. That had been the original plan, although now she wondered if everyone would be better off if she got out of town sooner rather than later.

  She still didn’t know how dangerous this situation was or what her pursuers wanted from her.

  Sure you do. You witnessed a crime. They want you dead.

  She shuddered.

  “Honey, let me get you a sweater.” Mom jumped up and went to the front hall closet.

  Morgan leaned across the table, narrowing his intense, blue-green eyes at her. “Are you going to tell me what’s really going on?”

  She couldn’t rip her gaze from his. He knew something was wrong and he wasn’t going to back off. But she didn’t want to involve her family or Morgan in whatever danger was stalking her, and she surely didn’t need a lecture about the dangers of her job.

  “It’s not your problem.” She got up and went to get a spoon to stir sugar into her tea.

  “It is my problem if you’re in trouble and you’ve brought it to my town.”

  She closed her eyes. Right. It was about Morgan protecting his citizens, not about him being worried about her.

  Julie was about to tell him to mind his own business when Mom breezed into the kitchen.

  “Here you go,” her mom said, hesitating. She glanced from Morgan to Julie. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing, Mom. Everything’s fine,” Julie said.

  With a shake of his head, Morgan downed his tea and stood. “Thanks for the tea and cookies, Mrs. Burns.”

  “You’re very welcome,” Mom said with a questioning frown.

  “Good night.” With a nod Morgan left, shutting the front door with a resounding click.

  Julie sigh
ed and closed her eyes.

  “Jules, sweetie, talk to me.” Mom placed her hand on Julie’s shoulder.

  “I’m just burned out at work.”

  “Julie?”

  She glanced at her mom.

  “I love you with all my heart,” Mom said. “I think a part of Morgan’s heart still loves you, too. We’re worried—”

  “I’m fine,” Julie snapped, sitting at the kitchen table.

  Mom walked up to her and rubbed her shoulders. “Whatever it is, we can work it out together.”

  Julie wasn’t so sure. If the police couldn’t help Julie, Mom and Morgan surely couldn’t. Nor did she want to get them involved with whatever criminal element was stalking her.

  She loved her mom too much.

  Which would make it that much harder to leave again. But she had to. She couldn’t risk trouble following her here, to her mom’s house, to Morgan’s town.

  “Honey, please,” her mother pleaded.

  “Something happened at work.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Julie shook her head. “I can’t. Not yet.”

  Mom frowned. “Well, you’ll tell me when you’re ready. But, sweetie, you can’t run from your problems. You should know that.”

  Was she referring to Suzy’s death? Or to Morgan?

  Sadness washed over her. So much loss.

  Mom stroked Julie’s hair. “It’s okay. You’re home now. And Lana can’t wait to see you.”

  “I can’t wait to see her, either.”

  “She’s coming for breakfast.”

  “Awesome.” And it was. Julie kept so busy at work that she had little time to miss them. But right now, sitting in Mom’s floral kitchen, she remembered the joy and laughter they’d shared. An ache crawled through her chest.

  “You look exhausted. How about I tuck you in?” Mom offered.

  “That would be great.”

  Morgan pulled out of the Burnses’ driveway, but didn’t go far. Parking a few houses down from the old Victorian, he eyed the upstairs window. Julie’s room.

  He guessed whatever made her scream out in her sleep was the same thing that drove her back home to the safety of family and friends. And now she was having second thoughts.