Page 48 of Your Heart & Mine

"It's just bad luck," she reassured, touched by his obvious regret at missing the event. "Go do what you have to for your company. I'll be right here when you get back."

Wyck searched her face, relief and undisguised love shining in his clear grey eyes. Despite her rejection of his proposal last weekend, his devotion persisted, warming places in her heart only he could reach.

"Get a room, you two," a male voice called. Harper looked over Wyck's shoulder to see Cam leaning against the brick building, his arms folded across his chest, a sardonic grin on his face.

"You're just jealous," Harper called back, grinning.

"Of course I am, Love." Cam pushed off the wall and sauntered toward the embracing couple. "Who wouldn't be? You two make my jaws ache from the sweetness."

Wyck turned to meet the other man's gaze, his lips quirked up in a half smile. "Now, now, Austin Powers, don't be a hater."

Cam huffed at the nickname that Wyck had taken to calling him just to get under his skin a little. "That's James Bond to you, Yank," Cam retorted.

Chuckling, Wyck returned his attention to Harper. "I do need to go." He gave her a last peck and slowly stepped back. "You take care of our girl, Cameron."

Cam threw an arm over Harper's shoulders and gave Wyck a little salute as he raised a knee. "Of course, Captain."

Wyck couldn't help but roll his eyes in response to Cam's Captain Morgan reference, a playful jab after Wyck's own teasing use of the Austin Powers nickname.

"I love you," he told Harper softly as he climbed in his SUV.

A sad smile tugged at her lips. "Be safe."

Harper saw a flash of hurt in his eyes before he could hide it. "Always. See you in a couple of days, Angel." His lips turned up in a smile but Harper knew her inability to give him the three little words he wanted hurt him. She stood and watched the Range Rover until it disappeared around the last curve out of town, unease swirling within her.

Cam wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. "He'll be back before you know it, love. Let's get to work, yeah?"

Leaning into him, Harper tried her best to smile for her friend. "I know." She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly trying to settle the bats that had taken up residence in her middle. Something felt wrong. Harper rubbed her arms trying to ward off the sudden chill. Shaking her head, she berated herself for borrowing trouble. "I'm being silly. Let's get to it."

As Cam led her inside, Harper couldn't resist glancing back once more at the empty road. Wyck would be fine, and back in her arms before she knew it. Wouldn't he?

That evening, the small shop that had been turned into an Artisan market was crammed full of people, everyone looking to support the local artists. Harper enjoyed visiting with everyone and seeing all the talent the area possessed.

One of the artists, who had been a security guard in his youth, told her a story about the time he was working for a company that tested airplane engines out in the Everglades.

"We weren't unfamiliar with gators down there, ya see, so when this old beater came driving up to the gates claiming to have just run over a one and wrestled it into his truck, we didn't have much reason to doubt him," the guard turned glass blower said. "He was awful worked up about it, but he smelled like a still had blown up on him, so we figured we'd better check out his story. If he really had killed a gator, we'd have to report it to Fish & Wildlife. He was refusing to get back in his car until someone got the gator out and he was blocking the road, so we had to do something."

The man took a sip of his locally pressed cider before continuing his story. "I don't have to tell you, Frank and me were not lookin' forward to openin' that trunk. Neither one of us had guns back then and weren't exactly sure how fast those suckers could move. I talked Frank into turning the key in the lock to pop the trunk open while I stood by with a big, ole piece of driftwood ready to club the thing into submission if he came at us."

Harper sucked in a breath. "Did it jump at you?"

His eyes twinkled just a bit. "Not exactly," he confessed. "Frank popped the trunk and nothing happened. Well, we looked at each other and waited a minute, afraid to get any closer. Finally, Frank pulled out his flashlight and shined the thing into the dark space. You'll never guess what we saw!"

"What?" Harper asked, almost breathless with anticipation.

"A long length of tire tread from an eighteen wheeler!" The man cackled. "The guy was so drunk, he was convinced he'd run over a gator and wrestled with it, but it was only a big piece of rubber!"

Harper's throaty laugh rang out across the small front room of the new shop. "Oh, Mike! You're making that up."

The older man held a hand up to his chest. "Swear, it's the truth."

Harper's lips turned down in concern as Brenna and Cam approached through the crowd, followed closely by a state trooper. Her sister's eyes were puffy and red, cheeks blotchy from crying. Cam's normally cheerful face was taut with grimness. Harper's chest constricted. Something was very wrong.

"Sorry mate, we need Harper for a minute," Cam murmured to Mike, voice rough. He gripped Harper's arm. "Come with us, Love."

Harper's face drained of color as déjà vu crashed over her with the force of a tsunami. Her knees buckled, only Cam's steadying hold keeping her upright. Brenna gave a stifled sob, the sound piercing Harper's heart.

No. It couldn't be. Not again. Harper's mind rejected the obvious implications even as her soul screamed in denial.

---