Mercy’s limbs went cold. Pete could have made brutal examples out of her and Tim O’Shea in front of his people. Instead he’d kept Tim’s death quiet. Mercy wondered if Pete had worried he might have to answer for their deaths one day and didn’t want a compound full of witnesses.

“Why did Pete have Tim’s body dumped near Eagle’s Nest?” Truman asked. “According to what Bolton told me this morning, the first John Doe was the son of the older couple who owned the property where he was found. The couple had suspected the remains could be their son but were too scared of recrimination from Pete to report America’s Preserve to the police. Exactly what Pete wanted. Why did Pete change that with Tim?”

Eddie paused and held Truman’s gaze. “According to Sean, you were the target. Pete believed you knew about Mercy’s assignment. Tim was a message to you.”

“Well, that didn’t fucking work,” Mercy spat out. “Shows how much he knows about Truman. At least Tim’s wife wasn’t the one to find his body.”

Poor Ollie.

Another teen popped into Mercy’s head. She’d witnessed the tearful reunion of Eden and her mother, and then cried herself when she saw Noah, looking alert and healthy for the first time since she’d known him. She’d hugged the boy as his mother thanked her for saving his life. Eden wept as she and Mercy parted, promising to keep in touch. Both children held a special place in her heart.

“What happened to Noah’s father, Jason?” she asked.

“He’s got a huge stack of charges to face, including Tim’s murder.”

“His son nearly died from his inaction,” Mercy pointed out.

“The district attorney is on top of that one too,” Eddie told her. “Oh—the pregnant lady had a baby girl. I was told to deliver the message to you.”

“Cindy.” Mercy mentally crossed off another concern on her list. “Those poor people,” she said slowly, thinking of the other women in the compound. “How will they return to a regular life? No homes, no jobs.” She thought of Beckett and the little bag of supplies he’d given her. Truman had told her the large man had died from gunshot wounds.

Mercy had a dozen conflicting emotions about that.

Her emotions had been on a wild ride for the last twenty-four hours. Overnight she’d clung to Truman and woken up a half dozen times with visions of Sean’s leering gaze or Pete’s fists and boots close to her face.

She felt a squeeze on her hand and turned to see Truman studying her in concern.

“I’m fine.” She sucked in a breath. “I’m going to be fine,” she corrected herself.

He nodded. “I know you will be.”

I just need time.

THIRTY-EIGHT

Three months later

It was their wedding day.

Truman couldn’t stand still and swayed from foot to foot.

Ollie elbowed him. “You gonna faint?” asked the teen, his eyes concerned.

“No.” Truman studied the young man in his new suit. The first suit Ollie had ever owned. “You look good, Ollie.”

Instead of ducking his head, Ollie grinned, straightened his shoulders, and looked Truman in the eye. “I know.” He dusted an invisible speck from his shoulder with a cocky flick of his fingers.

He’d come a long way from the shy teenager Truman had met in the woods.

Ollie leaned forward and winked at Kaylie on the other side of the minister.

He, Ollie, and Kaylie stood at one end of the great room in the showplace home of Christian Lake, Mercy’s longtime friend. On their left an entire wall of windows offered magazine-worthy views of a gigantic deck and the snowy lake. The glass reached the soaring ceiling and its rustic beams. Outdoors it was dark, a light snow falling, but inside, the giant room was gently lit with delicate string lights, candles, and a warm fire in the huge fireplace. Polished wood accents gleamed everywhere—everywhere that wasn’t decorated for Christmas. Cedar garlands arced across the walls and fireplace. A tree decorated in red, gold, and white nearly touched the sky-high ceiling.

The home and decor were stunning, but Truman barely noticed. Instead he studied face after face before him, marveling at how his life had changed since he’d moved to Eagle’s Nest. His parents sat in the front row along with his sister and her husband. Behind them was his other family—his men. Ben and his wife, looking as proud as if Truman were their own son. Samuel and Sandy had their heads together, whispering and smiling with eyes only for each other. Truman expected another wedding announcement soon. Royce and his young family. Lucas and his grandmother Ina—who was like a second mother to Truman.

On the other side of the aisle was Mercy’s family—now Truman’s. Her brother Owen, his wife, and their two children. Pearl, her husband, and their children. And then there was Rose, glowing and lovely. Nick sat beside her, one of Rose’s hands in his, and baby Henry on his lap staring nonstop at the lights on the Christmas tree.

Mercy’s mother, Deborah, sat alone in the first row, an empty white chair next to her.

“Are you ready for this, Truman?” Kaylie whispered, a sly look in her eye. Her red nose stud glittered, matching her dark-red dress. Her hair was in long, dark, loose curls, her resemblance to Mercy stronger than ever.

“Of course,” he mouthed soundlessly, noticing that some of Dulce’s white cat hairs had stuck to the waistband of Kaylie’s dress.

Love surged in his heart for their little patchwork family. Pets, teenagers, and all. He and Mercy had agreed that only Kaylie and Ollie would stand with them during the wedding. Not as attendants, but as part of their family of four.

The soft Christmas music faded away, and the slow instrumental opening to Etta James’s “At Last” began to play. The small congregation stood and turned to look behind them.

Truman’s pulse sped up, and his gaze locked on the opening at the other end of the room.

He couldn’t breathe.

At last, my love has come along.

“That’s our cue, Mercy.” Her father took her hand and tucked it in his arm. She didn’t move. Instead she studied his face, committing it to memory, another page in the recollections of her wedding day. The day after she’d returned, her father had humbly asked her forgiveness and asked to escort her at the wedding. It had filled the gaping hole in her heart.

Karl’s fingers didn’t shake as he smiled at her with the love that she’d missed for fifteen years.

Today her heart was full. Overflowingly full.

“Let’s do this,” she whispered. She raised her white sheath gown a few inches from her feet and lifted her chin. The dress was simple and elegant, made of a luminous silk that she’d fallen in love with the first time she saw it. No sequins, no lace, no ribbons. Her choice was styled off the shoulder and had close-fitting silk sleeves all the way to her wrists and was followed by a small sweep train. It was as light as air on her skin.

They stepped into the giant room, and the music gently swelled in the background.

I found a dream that I could speak to.

Every eye in the room was on her, but she saw only Truman. He looked so serious in his dark suit, staring at her as if stunned she’d shown up. Then his face slowly broke into a wide smile. Mercy brushed her lashes. Her damp eyes and the light of the candles had created a star effect, making her see nearly invisible silver strands, leading her down the aisle to Truman.

The faces of her friends and family caught her attention as she passed. The people she loved to work with. Jeff and Eddie and Darby. Britta stood next to Evan Bolton, her face solemn, Zara sitting quietly at her feet. Christian blew her a kiss, and beside him sat Salome, his half sister who’d told Mercy that fate dictated she belonged with Truman. Salome’s dark gaze glowed, her hand clasped in that of Morrigan, her daughter, whose eyes were wide in childish delight.

Mercy breathed deep, the room smelling of cedar and fresh flowers.

And here we are in heaven.

She finally stood before Truman, unable to look away, not noticing as her father transferred her hand into Truman’s and left to sit next to her mother. A sniff pulled her attention, and she saw tears streaming down Kaylie’s cheeks. Mercy let loose Truman’s hand and hugged the girl. “I love you,” she whispered into Kaylie’s ear.

“I’m sorry—I’m just so happy,” Kaylie replied, squeezing Mercy with a death grip. “He’s here, you know.”

“I do know.” Mercy felt it too. Levi’s presence was in the room, hovering around Kaylie, and Mercy’s heart ached at the time she’d lost with her brother. With a last squeeze, Mercy returned to Truman and took his hand, not surprised to see wet tracks on his face too.

“Ready?” he asked, gripping her fingers.

“Absolutely.”

For you are mine at last.

Truman had thought he would be prepared. But he wasn’t.

His first sight of Mercy in that dress had made his lungs seize. He’d always thought she was beautiful. It didn’t matter if she wore jeans or running gear. But today, in the elegant white gown with her hair loose, it’d nearly done him in.

What he felt for her wasn’t rational; it lived and breathed in his blood and deep in his flesh.