Escape to Morning (34 page)

“Is that a promise?” She meant it as a tease, but he made a funny face— “Is she awake?” A young girl sat beside him. She was thin, and had dark hair, dark eyes, a bruise on her cheek, a swollen lip, and her arm was in a sling. She looked vaguely familiar. “Amina?”

She smiled. “Yes. How are you feeling?”

“I'm … I don't know.” Dani looked at Will. “I guess I have a broken leg.”

Amina nodded. “Sorry. I couldn't think of any other way to get—”

Will touched her arm, shook his head.

Okay, her brain hadn't been that jostled; Dani could still spot a cover-up when she saw one. “What's going on?”

Amina frowned at him. “Tell her.”

“Amina, please go wait for me by the truck.”

“We had a deal.” Her eyes sparked.

“Go, please.” The last word sounded more like a groan.

Amina turned to Dani, touched her arm. “Thanks for everything.”

Dani opened her mouth, not quite sure what to say. What was she thanking her for?

Amina got up and disappeared into the gathering darkness.

“What's going on?” Dani asked again.

“Dani, I know you don't remember what happened, but I gotta fill you in on a few essentials.” He held her hand but didn't look at her, which hurt, probably more than her leg or her head or even the strange bruising in her chest.

“I'm not a reporter. I work for the government. And that girl over there is an important government asset. She's running from a terrorist organization named Hayata—”

Dani blinked as images raced into the broken, empty spaces of her mind. A man with a gun. Will covered in blood. As he finished his explanation, memory hurtled back to her.

“She has secrets, and I have to get them to HQ—”

“Homeland Security,” she filled in, and her voice sounded like she felt—cold and distant.

He noticed and looked at her. When she pulled her hand away from his, he said, “I guess your memory is coming back.”

“Yeah,” she said, knowing that word spoke volumes. “She has information that can take down this Hayata group?”

“Her father does. And she knows where he is. But the deal is, we don't find him until she's safe. And he's gone into hiding. But he's the only one who knows when and where the next attack will be. And we're running out of time.”

“So, getting her to safety is a matter of national security.”

Will flinched. “But … I'm not leaving you, Dani. I can't.”

Dani looked away, felt tears burn her eyes. “We can't be that far from civilization. You can go, send help back.”

She closed her eyes when he touched her cheek. Still, he turned her face toward his and waited until she opened her eyes. One tear ran down his cheek, and he let it sit there, obviously not caring that she saw his emotions glistening on his face.

Oh, Will
.

Her throat thickened. Suddenly, their heated argument in the back of the pickup rushed back to her. He'd lied to her. And she'd said she'd never make the mistake of trusting him again. Only that was a lie. She did trust him. She trusted him to her soul. He might not have told her his real profession, but he'd told her about himself. About the man he was and wanted to be. She probably knew him better than she knew Micah or Conner. She knew the real Will, the man behind the aliases. The man who wanted to keep her safe, be her friend—maybe more. And now he was crying. For her.

Gulp.

“Will, go. I understand. And I'll be okay.” She fought the panic that came with those words. Go? And leave her here by herself, unable to move? What part of that was okay?

But if he didn't leave, it might take days for them to be rescued, and by then, maybe Amina's father would be killed. Or worse, Homeland Security would never intercept whatever terror event this group had planned, and all chance of destroying these terrorists would slip through their fingers.

All the sacrifices paid by people on the front lines—people like Micah and Conner and Wendy, her deputy-sheriff friend turned MP soldier from back home in Iowa—would be undermined. America was fighting wars on both sides of the ocean.

“Go,” she repeated, hearing how her voice came out as a squeak. “I want you to go.”

“I can't leave you—”

“Please. Before I beg you to stay.”

“I'll send help back as soon as I can,” he said softly.

She tried to smile, tried to summon her courage, but all she heard was the wail of fear inside. Alone. He was leaving her alone.

Abandoning her.

So much for feeling safe with Will. She'd never felt more deserted in her life. Even if it was her choice.

“I'll be all right,” she said again.

He leaned down, and she felt moisture on his cheek as he kissed her. “I'm sorry, Dani. I wanted this to turn out differently.”

“Just go,” she said and turned away before he saw her break into tears.

She heard his footsteps thump against the forest floor, scuff out onto gravel, then finally disappear into the curtain of the night.

“Just go.”

Those two words fueled every step but pinged louder in Will's heart as he trudged away with Amina. He felt nearly nauseous as he struggled for breath.

“Just go.”

How could he leave her? He forced his breath out and stared at the stars. The moon hung like a fingernail in the sky, pointing north.
Please, oh, God, be our portion tonight
. Never did he long for those words to be true. Never did he need God more than at this moment, when he'd left the best of all he wanted lying cocooned in his jacket under a pine tree.

“The L
ORD
is my inheritance; therefore, I will hope in him! The L
ORD
is good to those who depend on him, to those who search for him.”
The words from Lamentations in Lew's Bible imprinted on Will's mind as he escorted Amina along the black ribbon of gravel road. How ironic that he'd sat on the shore this very morning, watching the earth escaping darkness to morning, pondering those words.

He'd attended more than a few of Lew's Bible studies, Lew's unveiled attempts to pull Will toward salvation. But for some reason, the Lamentations study had been slightly intriguing. The Israelites were a people struggling with pain, with understanding the reasons behind God's heavy hand, and yet in the middle of the book sat a testament to grace and trusting in God in the darkest hour. He remembered their conversation:

“You know what the word
good
means in that verse, Willy?” Lew said, sitting on a jeep, his feet swinging as he took a sip of warm water from his canteen.

The desert had rippled out for miles. Heat embedded their dirty pores, sizzled the skin under their filthy uniforms. Will recalled the first tour of Desert Storm and the way Lew patiently counseled his fellow Green Berets toward eternity.

“
Good
means ‘precious,' ” Lew continued as he wiped dirt from his face with his sleeve. “And
waiting
means more than just drumming our fingers on the table. It means longing for and
expecting
God to show up. It means trusting God fully, especially for victory. The verse, as I understand it, means that if you trust God with your entire heart, especially in the darkest hour, you will see God faithful, and His salvation will be sweeter because of the waiting. Like Bonnie said about our daughter. Having Anna in her arms made her birth and the waiting that much sweeter. I can't wait to see her.”

He'd grinned, swung down from the jeep, screwed the top on his canteen. “But you will only experience that sweetness if you seek God. Long for Him.”

Will remembered how Lew had clapped him on the shoulder and even now felt it, despite the burn in his injured arm. “God wants to be enough for you in every area of your life. But you have to pursue Him to find Him. Walking with God means getting to know Him and His Word a little more every day.”

One day at a time.

Micah had said the same thing. One day at a time.

Sorta like how Will had gotten to know Dani. And she'd wound into his heart and become precious. God could become that.

Will had thought that once he fell to his knees and admitted his failures, God would swoop in and turn him into Lew. Only how many times had he seen Lew in the early morning, his Bible open, saturating himself in God's Word? pursuing God.

If Will stopped looking at his everyday failures, lifted his eyes toward heaven, and began walking toward God, one step at a time, he might become that man along the way.

Somewhat like those lepers being healed.

He gritted his teeth, and for the first time he realized why he hadn't known how to walk the path of a Christian.

Because he'd been afraid.

Although Lew had blazed the trail, Will had been afraid to take the first steps toward knowing God. Toward trusting Him. Because, frankly, although he knew God had saved him, cerebrally, he hadn't
felt
it. Not really. His scars seemed too impenetrable.

Until he'd met Dani.

Until she'd looked him in the eye and said, “I'm willing to take my chances.” She'd reached past his iffy exterior and been his friend. Trusted him. Believed in him.

With a realization that should have sent the stars leaping across the sky, Will looked heavenward, a strange, wild feeling springing into his heart.

Lord, You've been trying to teach me this entire time about knowing You, and I haven't been paying attention. I've expected You to change me, to heal me, but I haven't taken more than baby steps in Your direction. Mostly because I've been afraid that You'll take a good look and revoke all that forgiveness. But I'm going to believe You when You say Your compassions never fail. Help me remember that as I walk every day in Your direction
.

Please be with Dani tonight. Great is Your faithfulness, and I ask You to make that known to her. And please keep her alive. Thank You for bringing Dani into my life, but even if I never see her again, You've taught me about friendship. About taking a chance on someone even if you don't understand them. Teach me to take a chance on You. Teach me to be Your man
.

Amina hobbled beside him, holding her injured arm. She looked exhausted and defeated.

“It's going to be okay,” Will assured her. “We'll find your father.”

She gave him a soft, disbelieving smile.

They rounded a bend, and in the distance, he saw Lake Superior, a shining pool of moon-kissed water. And at the end of the road cutting down to the lake was County Road 63.

“We'll flag down a car.”

She nodded, but fear edged her eyes.

He knew what thoughts sparked her worry. She had told him that the Hayata thugs had radioed in their position before the crash. In the time since, someone surely would have gotten suspicious.

As if on cue with his thoughts, lights heralded a vehicle turning off the county road and onto the forest-service road. Will grabbed Amina's arm, pulled her toward the ditch, but not before lights illuminated them like deer caught in mid-flight.

Amina scrambled into the ditch with him, trembling. “Don't let them take me,” she said.

After the lights had passed, Will put his arm around her and ushered her out of the ditch and back into the dark forest.

“The L
ORD
is my portion. …”

Don't be afraid
. Dani heard the voice in her head—soft, like a song—as she shivered under Will's coat. The wind rustled, hidden in the trees overhead, and night sounds rippled under her skin. She shouldn't sleep; she knew that. She didn't want to slip into shock—more trauma victims suffered from shock than their actual injuries.

Will had left her. “Just go,” she'd said, but inside she'd been screaming,
Stay. Oh,
please,
stay
.

She fought a fearful tremble. He'd left her.

Somehow she wondered if that scared him more than it had her. That thought helped. In fact, it found the still-aching places in her heart and soothed them. She searched her memory for the moment before the crash and found Will's words:
“I know I'm not the guy you thought I was. But in every important way, I want to be. I want to be your friend, and … more. I want to be God's man for you—today and every day.”