Chapter 14 #3
Yeah, this was a good idea.
Rowan stood at the kitchen counter, plating steaks. Tall. Broad-shouldered. The kind of man who looked dangerous until he smiled. Then he just looked…good.
And of course, reminded her completely of Asher.
“Hey, Daphne. Can’t believe you’re back.” He gave her a side hug. “Dinner’s ready.”
Daphne didn’t mention that she knew about the favor Asher had called in. Not yet.
They ate. Casual. Easy. Huck chattered about horses and school and his upcoming competition. Sierra asked about her life in Seattle. Rowan told a few military stories.
And Daphne sat there feeling—something. Something unfamiliar. Something that might be belonging.
After dinner, Sierra sent Huck to do homework. Rowan cleaned up the kitchen. And Sierra led Daphne out to the porch.
They sat on the porch swing, watching the sun set over the mountains. The sky turning from blue to gold to purple. Stars beginning to emerge. The air cooling. Crickets starting their evening song.
“So, you heading back to Seattle?”
She looked at Sierra. “Why? Is this an intervention?”
Sierra laughed. “Could be.”
Daphne sighed. Finally. “Truth is, I’m a little scared.”
“You’re a little in love.”
She glanced at Sierra.
“Please. I remember my sixteen-year-old friend. I can tell when she’s thinking about someone.”
“This is not Jerry McKinney.”
“Please. I hope not.” Sierra took her hand. “Asher is far, far, far from the guy who turned into the local dentist.”
Daphne laughed. “Yeah. He always seemed like the dentist type.”
A beat, then, “Fine. Yes. I…I care for Asher. Maybe—for sure—more than I should. But…trusting him feels like standing at the edge of a cliff and choosing to jump. Every instinct I have says protect yourself, build walls, don’t let him close enough to hurt you again.”
“And?”
“And—maybe I’m tired of standing at the edge. Tired of surviving instead of living. Tired of letting fear make my choices.”
Sierra nodded. Waited. The porch swing creaked as she shifted her weight.
“My father died because he chose being a hero over being my dad. Or at least that’s what I’ve told myself for the past fifteen years.”
“But?”
“But—my dad was just being who he was. A protector. A cop. Someone who couldn’t not help.
” Daphne’s voice caught. “And Asher—he did the same thing. He lied because he was trying to bring down people who hurt others. He went undercover because he wanted to make a difference. He compromised because he was trying to do the right thing in an impossible situation.”
Sierra made a humming noise. “So you’re saying you understand him. Maybe see who he really is.”
Daphne drew in a breath. “Yeah. And I think I need to forgive him. The way I need to forgive my dad. Because neither of them are perfect.”
Sierra squeezed Daphne’s hand. “If you wait for perfect, then you’ll always be alone.”
Yeah. “I need to go.” Daphne stood up. “I need to—there’s something I need to do.”
Sierra stood too and pulled her into a hug. “You’re not alone anymore. Whatever happens with Asher—you have people here. You have family.”
Daphne nodded. Couldn’t speak past the lump in her throat. Just hugged Sierra back.
An hour later, her headlights cut through gathering darkness as she drove.
The cemetery was quiet. Peaceful. Rows of headstones glistening in the oncoming moonlight. The iron gates stood open.
Daphne parked. Sat in her car. Debating. Almost leaving.
Nope.
She got out and walked between gravestones. The air smelled of the night, of fresh-cut grass and earth and flowers from nearby graves.
She found his grave easily.
Officer Daniel Cross, Badge 2847
1968 - 2009
Beloved husband and father
“Greater love has no one than this: to lay
down one’s life for one’s friends” – John 15:13
Daphne knelt, touched the cold stone. “Hi, Dad,” she whispered. “It’s been a while.”
The cemetery was silent.
“I’m sorry I haven’t come. I was—I’ve been angry. Angry that you left us.”
Her eyes burned, her throat thickening.
“There’s this man. Asher. He’s—he’s a lot like you, actually. FBI agent. And I’m angry at him too. I thought he betrayed me.”
Around her, the trees rustled.
“But he was just doing what you did. Making hard choices in impossible situations. Being who he is. A protector. Someone who can’t not help. And if I can’t forgive him—I can’t forgive you. But see…I want to forgive you.”
She wiped her chin.
“So, yeah. I…forgive you.” She drew in a breath. “And I forgive Asher.”
She sat now, in the cold, damp grass, and leaned against the stone.
“I love you, Dad. And I miss you. So much.”
She sat in the quiet, in the chill, listening to the wind.
Listening to her heart start to beat, finally, without the ache.
“Say hi to Mom for me.” Then she got up and walked back to her car. Sat there with the engine running, the dashboard lights glowing green in the darkness.
When you see a good man, you hang on to him.
The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.
You can trust me. I promise.
Put her car into Drive and headed back to Renegade.