Chapter 14
Northern California
Amanda laughed, stepping under Stephen’s arm as he held the door to the bakery open.
It was just before closing, but Amanda knew that Lizzy, the bakery’s owner, wouldn’t mind their last-minute arrival.
She and Alexander were trying to wrap things up before leaving for New York, so they’d decided to divide and conquer after dinner—Amanda was on birthday cake duty.
Alexander had gone with the crew to the offsite compound they’d been frequenting lately.
Art had built it years ago, and they all loved going there to play war games or whatever they did.
Amanda knew the guys were going to miss the easy, or at least easier, access to it while they summered on the east coast.
Stephen, the saint, had made the supreme sacrifice to accompany her to the bakery, and given that it was his brother, Alex had even relinquished their tail for the night, though it had taken some cajoling. Seriously, they were just going to a bakery.
Lizzy had called shortly after lunch to say she was swamped and asked if Amanda could come on the later side, as the last thing she wanted to do was rush the design of Callie’s very specific birthday cake.
Her baked goods were the best, but Lizzy’s freehand cake decorating was off the chart, and well worth the wait.
Unfortunately, her store was way north, tucked away in the quaint little town of Baron’s Cove.
The drive always reminded Amanda of that On Star commercial where the woman swerves to avoid hitting a deer and ends up lost in a vast expanse of foliage.
Though, on this drive, only one side of the road sported that lush oasis, the other was a rocky drop to the sea.
“I’m telling you, Amanda, he doesn’t like chocolate.” It was the third time Stephen had said it, and she still couldn’t figure out how she’d missed that detail about Alex. She was a chocolate fiend, so it’s not like it wasn’t around.
“Are you sure?” she asked one more time.
Stephen rolled his eyes as he herded her toward the counter.
She and Alex had decided—among a lot of other decisions they’d made lying in bed the morning after the gala—to celebrate Callie’s birthday in California before they left for New York.
It would be a tight schedule, but they could manage.
That way Callie could invite friends from school over and have dinner with the circus.
They’d decided to have the party on Saturday, right before leaving on Sunday, which was the day before Callie’s actual birthdate.
The cake, it turned out, was well worth the wait and late evening trip.
Lizzy had outdone herself; the detail was amazing and it couldn’t have been easy.
But kudos to her favorite cake-maker aside, what kid wanted an Amelia Bedelia cake?
Amanda chuckled. Her kid. Not that the series wasn’t adorable, endearing, and exceptional—it was—Amanda just couldn’t figure out Callie’s fascination with it.
As she looked at the replication of Amelia on top of the cake, with her rosy cheeks and bonnet, Amanda supposed it was because Amelia looked just like Janey. Seriously, they could have called the series Janey Wainey or something of the sor—
Amanda froze.
That was it. The last piece of the puzzle locked into place, her memory crystallized, and what felt like small fragments of lifetimes fraught with every emotion was now exposed in full, a landmark panorama of remembering she’d tucked away for later viewing.
OHMYGOD. A sound much like a gurgle escaped her lips, though it sounded far away, not from her, as the cake fell from her hands. Amanda’s head whipped up on its own accord, and her eyes locked on Stephen, who dropped his phone in his rush to grab hold of her when her knees buckled.
“Amanda?” She knew Stephen was shouting, completely panicked, but his voice sounded like they were underwater.
Amanda’s vision swam as he continued. “Lizzy, call 911,” he yelled over her shoulder, lowering Amanda to the ground gently, trying to avoid the sheet cake that lay between them.
He tightened his hold as she wobbled on her knees and started shaking uncontrollably, clutching at his arms.
“Ohmygod, Stephen,” she said in a sudden moment of clarity before her eyes blurred again.
“Christ, Amanda,” he said, looking terrified. “Tell me what’s wrong. Where do you hurt— Lizzy, how long!”
Shaking her head, Amanda reached her hands up for his face as the dam broke. “You’re here…he’s here. Oh my God…you’re both…here,” she sobbed, unable to handle the impossibility of what she was now realizing was—somehow—the complete and utter truth.
“Bloody hell, Am.” His eyes filled with tears too. “You remember.”
She nodded, still too overwhelmed to speak as Stephen pulled her up and hugged her tight.
“Christ, I missed you,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion. “Cancel that call,” he told Lizzy, still keeping Amanda close.
Amanda started convulsively nodding as she found steady footing, and then clutched at Stephen’s jacket, jumping up and down, ignoring Lizzy’s rightfully confused expression.
“Take me to him,” she cried, tears still flowing, but this time from happiness.
Like it was infectious, Stephen did the same, nodding and jumping before grabbing her hand to run from the store.
“Wait,” Lizzy called after them, handing Stephen his phone. “Should I make another cake for tomorrow, Amanda?”
Amanda shook her head, smiling broadly, and said, “We’re good, Lizzy.” Then she laughed. “My husband doesn’t like chocolate anyway.”
Lizzy looked even more confused, but then chuckled and said, “I’ll make it vanilla and deliver it myself.”
Stephen pulled Amanda outside as she waved to Lizzy and thanked her, feeling like the whole world had righted itself. Stephen started calling his brother as he opened the door to the truck, but Amanda covered his phone.
“No,” she said firmly. She wanted to tell him herself. Oh God, he’d found her, her eighteenth-century Royal Navy admiral—her husband—had found her. Just like she’d always known he would.
“How far are we?” she asked when Stephen pulled onto the highway.
He checked his navigation, looked in the rearview mirror, and told her, “I’m taking the shortest of three routes, but the compound’s about an hour and a half southeast of here. Do you want me to have him meet us at the house instead?”
“No.” She shook her head, barely able to contain the giddiness she felt. “Don’t say anything.” She wanted to take his glorious face in her hands and tell him that she remembered. Everything.
Sighing in anticipation, she palmed the window, fingers splayed in that gesture that had been a part of her sorrow-filled days for so long.
How many nights had she craved that tactile touch, as if staring out the window with her hands pressed firmly to the glass would bring him home?
Or make him feel her love, wherever he might be.
Their headlights provided an occasional glimpse of the mountains as they sped by, the only thing illuminating the all but deserted highway at this hour.
Amanda kept thinking back to that morning after the gala.
How they’d decided to wait until they’d arrived in New York to make their new togetherness permanent.
At the time it had made sense and seemed like a good place for them to transition.
He’d held her in his arms then, and told her the past didn’t matter any longer.
God, she’d had no idea then, the lengths that this man had gone in pursuit of her.
The discipline he must have. His restraint amazed her because, after tonight, she wasn’t letting him out of her sight.
She wanted to know everything—everything—that had happened from the time she’d let go on that cliff to when he’d found her.
What he’d done. How he’d done it. But all she kept thinking now was, I’m coming, Alexander.
Halfway through the drive Stephen told her the turn for the compound, where she’d never been before, was coming up. Other than that, they’d barely said a word. She sat, tense with anticipation as Stephen drove. And then he wasn’t driving anymore.
Her stomach churned as the truck swerved and Stephen yelled something that sounded like “Hold on, Amanda,” though she couldn’t quite hear him over the blood rushing through her ears. She screamed as they struck something, and her head banged against the window.
The truck spun, and as Stephen fought for control, the front passenger-side tire hopped over the guard rail.
With the speed they were going and weight of the Nav, the driver’s-side tire went over next.
Like a seesaw, the truck dangled on the steel embankment, metal eerily creaking on metal as it rocked back and forth.
Amanda and Stephen shared a look, a snapshot that lasted no more than a millisecond, before the truck pitched forward on a downward swing, hitting something else before the ground beneath them fell away completely and the truck plunged to the earth below.
“Pour some scotch, boy,” Alexander told Trevor with a grin.
He and his band of brothers, extended crew included, were at their compound. He loved it. God bless Art Fisher, who’d seen well into the future and built the state-of-the-art facility hidden deep in the mountains.
It was constantly bristling with activity. Combat training, SAR—search and rescue—training, weaponry, explosives, surveillance, add to that list ad infinitum. Looking around him, Alexander realized that his purchase of JDL months ago really had been the beginning of a new empire.
Here. Now. There wasn’t any other place he wanted to be. He and Amanda had a future. And it would be good. And it would be together.
Bloody hell—YES!