Chapter 8 #3
“You should know that’s why it took me so long to get back to Minnesota. The Mariposa police investigated the incident and cleared me. But I had to stay there until the investigation was finished.” This he said loud enough for RJ to hear. Just in case.
Now they could stop talking about it.
“You were in the right,” she said softly. “I know that. I knew it even then.” She glanced at him. “And I know that I really scared you.”
Oh. He swallowed.
“I do sometimes…get in over my head.”
His mouth tightened.
“Get mixed up with the wrong people, trust the wrong people. Make decisions that require you to…you know…save me.”
He glanced at her then, and her countenance had softened.
“The fact is, even though you’re dangerous…I feel safe with you.”
And that set heat into his bones. “You should, Selah. I would step in front of a bullet for you.”
“I pray you never have to do that.”
Him too, but…“This world is a dangerous place filled with dangerous people and, well, to quote Frank, the world needs dangerous gentlemen.”
“Who are—”
“Men who are compassionate, who show mercy but aren’t afraid to go to battle for what’s right. To protect those in peril.” He glanced at her. “Or people who get in over their heads.”
“Okay, that’s it. Pull over,” RJ said from behind them. “We need gas, and you two are clearly not not talking about it.” She pointed to an exit ramp with a tall truck stop/gasoline marker rising from the trees.
North got off, then pulled into the station and up to the pump.
“You go walk my dog. And talk about illing-kay. I’ll pump gas.”
She got out the side door, leash and dog in hand, and North glanced at Selah.
She wrinkled her nose at him. “She’d make a better drill sergeant than a marriage counselor.” Then Selah reached for the door handle.
North took the dog’s leash from RJ, and he and Selah headed for a grassy area beside the lonely truck stop.
The sun had barely fallen, the sky still bruised, the mountains dark around them.
The faintest hint of the Milky Way scattered overhead.
The wind reaped the piney scent of the nearby forest, the earthy grasses, washing away the odor of diesel.
“I’m sorry too,” he said as he let Vaughn sniff the grass, hunting for his special place.
“For saying the truth?” She had shoved her hands into her sweatshirt, walking quietly beside him. “I did everything you accused me of. And”—she looked up at him—“you saved my life.”
“I still wish you hadn’t seen…what I did.”
Vaughn stopped near a discarded bag of trash, sniffed it.
“Truth is, I don’t think about it a lot—not unless I have to recount something—but yes, Selah…
” He met her eyes. “I’ve taken lives in combat.
In sanctioned situations. And I don’t love the idea that I’ve ended a life.
But every time, someone had a weapon pointed at someone I cared about or someone I should have cared about.
Innocent people. And it wasn’t my decision alone—although, in the end, I own it. ”
Her gaze didn’t move from his.
“I put it in the container that says ‘Do the hard thing for the sake of good.’ And yes, sometimes, especially back on the teams, it got a little murky. I can tell you that it’s crystal clear when some murderer is holding a machete above the head of the woman I love.”
She blinked, caught her lower lip. Nodded.
Vaughn, of course, picked right then to find his special place.
“I know that, North. I remember…everything. And once I got past it—as in, on the train to Washington—I could see it. I knew that I’d gotten you into that place—”
“It wasn’t your fault. I would have been there at some point on the island, with that crew.”
“But I was the tipping point. It’s just that…you know, I’ve always been taught to love mercy.”
“And I’ve been taught to do justice.”
She wiped her hand across her cheek. He hadn’t realized she’d been crying.
“I think…the truth is, North, that I’ve been afraid—”
“Since Nigeria.”
She shook her head. “Since my kid sister, Hannah, disappeared at the age of six from the Minnesota State Fair.”
He stared at her. He’d heard this story from Jake, but it had never really clicked. “How old were you?”
“Chloe and I were nine. It was back in the days when, I don’t know, maybe everyone thought the world was a safer place. My parents gave us each twenty-dollar bills, and Chloe and I went into the food barn for lunch and…well, Jake went in with Hannah. And she got lost in the crowd.”
Vaughn had finished his business and they kept walking.
“We never found her. And it just…it’s haunted me.
That sense that, in a single moment, your whole life can change.
Evil can swoop in and destroy it. My mom was wrecked, of course, and Chloe and I both dedicated ourselves to trying to make her, I don’t know…
feel better, I guess. My mom is a tough woman, and she tried to hide her pain, but I think seeing her suffer is what drove me into trying to help people around the world.
Teaching English got me into foreign countries, and then I started the humanitarian work.
I spent most of my life in the aftermath of that, helping people deal with the fallout of evil. ”
He saw her then, again, taking care of Colt and Fraser, the two security guys injured in the Boko Haram camp. And later, tending to people whose lives had been destroyed by the landslide in Mariposa.
“God designed you for exactly what you do, Selah. You love mercy—”
“And then I got kidnapped in Nigeria. And I think…I think maybe I shoved it all down. Didn’t want to face it.”
“Face what? The trauma?”
“The anger. The fury. The fear, but…” She wiped her cheek again. “When I turned around that day, in the village in Mariposa, and saw the kid with the machete, I wasn’t…I wasn’t afraid, North. I was furious.”
He had nothing.
“And then you shot him, and I…” She shook her head. “I was relieved.”
“He was going to kill you.”
“I know. But at the time, I was so horrified at my relief that I…I got angry at you. But I wasn’t running from you. I was running from me. From”—her hand touched her heart—“anger. And helplessness. And even…”
“The dark places inside.”
She nodded. “And…I shouldn’t have made you feel like it was your fault. Which brings me back to…I’m sorry.”
“I wish you hadn’t seen that.”
“But I did. And I met a part of myself I didn’t like, I think. I always thought I just wanted peace. But I realized that given the same situation again, I would—”
“No.” And he didn’t know why her words lit inside him. Why suddenly he couldn’t breathe. “No, Selah.” He stepped up to her. “Your weapons are not mine. Your weapons are mercy and forgiveness. These are the things I need from you.”
He touched her face, his eyes roaming hers. “We can have peace even in the face of war—if we know when to fight and why. That’s the real battle. I need you to be strong and wise and brave. The rest—that’s what I’m here for.”
He took a step toward her, the dog pulling at the leash.
She closed the gap between them. “Next time, I’ll be more careful.”
He smiled. “No, you won’t.”
“Okay, maybe not.” Then she raised herself up on her toes, put her hands on his chest, and kissed him.
A whisper, really, on his lips, sweet and soft and precious, and it was all he could do to not drop the leash and sweep her up.
As it was, he put his arm around her and pulled her up to himself and kissed her back. Not quite as whisper-soft.
In fact, he dove in, hungry, suddenly ravenous for her touch, needing her to hold on to him, to never let go. A small sound of relief emitted from him and he deepened his kiss, and she wound her arms around his neck and let him.
Why hadn’t he asked this woman to marry him yet?
A honk jerked his head up.
RJ had driven up, leaning her elbow out of the driver’s-side window. “Seriously. I just asked you to walk the dog. Get in before this turns into a PG movie. For Pete’s sake, my children are watching.”
He looked down at Selah and grinned.
“For the kids,” she said, and he laughed and called the dog.