Expect the Sunrise (35 page)
“Ouch. That had to hurt.”
“It would have hurt more if he’d been in it. And if we hadn’t caught Juan and his girlfriend.” Conner looked over Micah’s shoulder. “Believe me when I say that Gerard’s counting his blessings.” He winked at Mac.
Andee narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on here?”
Mac squeezed her hand. “A happy ending.” He gazed at her with such warmth in his eyes that she felt a blush edge up her face.
“So I take it you met Team Hope?” Andee asked.
Mac nodded. “Nice friends you have. The first time I met Conner and Micah, they were in hand-to-hand combat with a couple of terrorists from Venezuela, while trying to dodge bullets.”
“Thanks, by the way,” Micah said, smiling at Mac. “Her aim was improving.”
Mac looked good with a blush, and Andee had to wonder exactly what he’d done. “Where are they?” she asked him.
“FBI interrogation. They’ll be there for a while. I’ll go in later and see if I can fill in some of the blanks Nina left out. But the short of it is that Nina had intended to hijack you in Prudhoe Bay and make you fly to Disaster and get your father and her two buddies, and then the happy party would fly over the pipeline and detonate all three explosives. With all the mountain peaks, it was most likely the only way the signal would reach all the explosives simultaneously. Then they probably hoped to escape to some Micronesian island in the Pacific.”
“That’s why they took my dad? To force him to fly?”
“Or force
you
to fly, with a gun to Gerard’s head.”
How close she’d come to losing Gerard. Again. “But who were they working for? Some Al-Qaeda group?”
Mac shook his head. “Nina is Venezuelan DISIP, as is Juan. The FBI identified them when we brought them in.”
Andee frowned at him, puzzled.
“Venezuela secret police. Or at least they were. We’re not sure if they’re still working for Chavez or not. The fact that we found them with Constantine Rubinov tells me they may have been connected with a terrorist group we’ve been tracking for some time. These days, it’s not uncommon to see a number of terrorist groups working together for the same agenda. At any rate, we caught them before they could do serious damage.”
Andee quirked a smile at Mac, remembering her skepticism at his wild scenarios. “Venezuela, huh?”
He shrugged, but she saw a look of triumph in his sweet blue eyes.
“Are you still going to retire from the FBI?” The question rushed out of her and for some reason tightened a noose around her throat.
Mac’s smile dimmed. “I don’t know yet. I guess it depends.” His gaze held hers.
Micah cleared his throat. “I’m hungry. Anyone else hungry?”
“I’m starved.” Conner squeezed Andee’s arm.
“I could eat a moose,” Lacey said. “Want anything, Andee?”
She wasn’t sure how to answer that. A warm bath? A pizza? Maybe Mac’s arms around her? She shrugged and Lacey nodded.
Andee had a feeling Lacey might know exactly how she felt.
As they left, Mac pulled the curtain between Andee’s and Sarah’s beds. Andee heard Hank start to stir, but all thoughts of Hank and Sarah vanished as Mac sat on her bed. He’d cleaned up since she last saw him. Although reddish whiskers still covered his chin, his hair was slightly wet and curly and tucked behind his ears, and he smelled clean and spicy, the essence of male.
She could hardly believe she’d once thought of him as arrogant. Charming, devastatingly handsome, ruthlessly loyal and passionate, but not arrogant.
In fact, maybe just human, like her. Struggling one day at a time to be the guy God wanted him to be and trusting Him enough not to look back.
“You really scared me,” he said. “Jumping off a cliff. Nearly freezing to death. My little human ice cube.” He ran his hand down her cheek.
She leaned into his hand. “We need to talk about this FBI thing.”
His smile fell. He pulled his hand away, not meeting her eyes.
“I think you should stay in the FBI. I know that I accused you of having to save the world, but you’re just that kind of guy, and that’s okay. And I’m sure that Brody would have been proud of you, Mac. Don’t quit the FBI. They need you.”
He raised his eyes, and she saw his confusion.
“But I need you too,” she said. “Think you can deal with that?”
“What are you saying, Andee?”
She was pretty sure the next words would be locked inside forever if she didn’t force them out now. “I’m saying that I’m willing to give us a chance. To stick around for the winter with my dad, maybe get him to move to Disaster.”
Mac smiled slightly.
“Mac, I can’t take another man letting me down, but … you didn’t do that. You jumped in after me.”
“I didn’t save you. You saved yourself.”
“But you
wanted
to. That matters. And next time I might just let you.”
He twined his fingers through her curly hair. “That’s because you matter, Andee. To me. I’d jump off a thousand more cliffs into icy water just to be with you.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “You’re such a romantic, Mac.” She sighed, however. “I know that whatever is inside you that makes you want to save the world is here to stay. You can’t shrug it off or break free of it because it’s part of you, Mac. But in the end, I know you chose me. Which means when you can’t choose me, I’ll trust that you want to.”
He leaned close. “Listen, I understood when you said that you couldn’t take someone letting you down.”
She stilled, not quite sure what he might be saying.
“The thing is, before I met you I felt numb inside. But I was really slowly disintegrating. I’ve always been sure I could never let someone in my life, that somehow she’d get hurt. Like Brody. Sort of how your dad felt, I think. When I met you, for the first time I felt alive. I realized that knowing you, being with you, was worth trying to figure it out. As soon as Nina grabbed you, all I could think about was getting to you, finding you, and protecting you. And it scared me, because I’ve never ever really felt that way before. But after we got out of the river, I understood that maybe that was how love is supposed to be—I couldn’t feel the joy without the fear and probably a little pain. I’m going to try not to let you down, Andee. You can trust me. Because I can’t
not
choose you.”
Andee could hardly breathe, caught in his gaze, the lilt of his smile. “Then you don’t regret—?”
“You’re in my heart, Andee. Like a breath or a song—”
“Or a poem?”
He smiled. “Like a poem from the Highlands.” She saw a new twinkle in his eye.
“And fare-thee-weel, my only Luve!
And fare-thee-weel, a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho’ ’twere ten thousand mile!”
“Is that poetry I hear over there?” Andee heard Sarah’s voice lift, with a giggle.
“Can I use that, Mac?” Hank’s drawl morphed Mac’s accent into his own Texan. “My only luve, will you marry me?”
Andee’s eyes widened, and Mac’s gaze froze on her. Then he got off the bed and pulled back the curtain.
Sarah and Hank looked up from their kiss. Hank leaned away from Sarah, who smiled at Andee, a tear running down her cheek.
Oh, boy.
“Close the curtain, Mac,” Hank said in a quiet tone.
Mac closed the curtain and stood above Andee. “We gotta get out of here.” He scooped her up in his arms, blankets and all. Andee grabbed her IV stand, rolling it behind as Mac opened the door with his foot and carried her into the hall.
“Where are we going?”
Mac smiled. “To the happy ending I promised you.”
She turned in his arms, surrendering to the place she wanted to be, right here next to him, letting herself be protected, just enough, by this man who’d charged into her life and believed in her, trusted her, came after her.
Loved her?
She drank in the taste of those words.
This seemed happy enough. Hank and Sarah engaged. She, in Mac’s incredibly strong arms. Nina and the other terrorists captured. God had been with them, through her fears, her mistakes. Not only that—He’d reminded her through a formerly arrogant Scot that the Almighty might even know her deepest desires. He might even give her everything she’d always dreamed of. Perhaps Sarah was right. It was time to live without regrets, facing into tomorrow, into the sunrise of each day.
“How’s Ishbane?”
“Headed home. I think Flint is down the hall, and last I checked, Phillips was sacked out in the next bed.”
“And … how’s my dad?”
“I think you two might have some talking to do.” Mac stopped before an open door and turned her slightly. “Look at that,” he whispered.
Andee lifted her head and her heart swelled. Her mother sat in a chair beside her father’s hospital bed, holding his hand. Gerard wore a smile Andee had seen so many times before. He looked at her, caught her eye, and winked.
Andee just stared at them. “I don’t understand.”
Mac backed them away from the door. “Your mother flew up this morning. Got here about an hour ago. And after seeing you were okay, she went right in to him. Maybe things will turn out differently this time.”
Andee wanted to wiggle out of his arms, to demand answers, but the sight of her father running his hand through her mother’s hair, the look on his face, well, she couldn’t interrupt. Not now.
“There’s something you should know about your father, Andee. Gerard McLeod is a legend at the bureau. Once upon a time, he ran the Fairbanks Drug Team. He took down a particularly notorious and well-connected group of drug runners with particularly vengeful relatives. I did the math, and I have to wonder if your father didn’t send you away right at the time the Rubinovs’ extended relatives were tracking down the families of those agents on the team.”
Moisture brushed Andee’s eyes.
Mac reached up and thumbed away an escaping tear. “Just thought that might be food for thought.”
She nodded, glancing back at her parents. Together.
Mac carried her down the hall to an atrium that faced north toward the Brooks Range, barely outlined by the sinking sun. He held her tight, making no move to put her down as they stared at the view, the mountains turning purple, the sky streaked with red.
“We never made it to Disaster,” Andee said quietly.
Mac chuckled. “Oh, I think we did. And we survived it.”
Andee looked up at him, ran her fingers through his stubbly beard, losing herself in his eyes. “I’m falling in love with you, you know.”
“Aye,” he said and bent his head and kissed her gently, perfectly. Hinting at her future or
their
future. He tasted of sweet coffee and of all the magical stories she’d tucked away of heroes and lords and knights in shining armor.
She hated it when he pulled away.
He rested his forehead on hers and sighed. “I did it again. Kissed you without asking.”
She smiled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
He closed his eyes, pulled her close, and whispered in her ear:
“Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.”
“FBI, you’re such a poet,” Andee said in a lazy, teasing voice.
He smiled, letting her see everything in his heart. “Only for you, my bonnie lass. Only for you.”
“MOMMY, IF YOU could live your life over, would you make the same choices?”
When my son asked me this question the other night, it made mc ponder. Would I? Yes, for the most part. There are probably a few I wouldn't make again. Like that perm gone wild or the boyfriend with the bad breath. But really, our choices make us the people we are, and without one choice pushing me to the next, I probably wouldn't be where I am today.
Not that life has been easy. Or that I've always made the right decisions. Over the last two years, we've had big changes—in career, in lifestyle, in location. And we haven't always made the best decisions. (Case in point—the day I decided to clean out my basement and ended up accidentally burning down the garage!) But through this journey, I've discovered that in every event, every disappointment, ever)'joy, ever)' struggle, God is there. And that is a treasure I wouldn't have found if ever)' decision had been wise or easy or right.
I often hear people say, when confronted with a crisis, “God doesn't give me more than I can bear.” I couldn't disagree more. I've been in a number of I-can't-bear-this! situations, and over and over I see that it's when I'm swamped and going down fast, I have no choice but to turn to God. He parts the waves, readies down, and snatches me from death.
Sorla like what Paul says in 2 Corinthians 1:9-10: “In fact, we expected to die. But as a result, we slopped relying on ourselves and learned to rely only on God, who raises the dead. And he did rescue us from mortal danger, and he will rescue us again. We have placed our confidence in him, and he will continue to rescue us.”
