Page 55 of Forged in Secrets

The statement was so out of character that she was briefly rendered speechless.

Ben could appreciate a classical symphony, sure. Maybe even a Renaissance painting or something. But to wake up early, on purpose, to watch the sun?

She was thankful for the opportunity to hide her stunned reaction as she reached into her bag in search of lip gloss. Maybe he was just anxious about going near another airport.

As much as she was sure he’d like to see his twin, she knew he wasn’t happy that their big brother had insisted on sending in backup.

Grace hadn’t even bothered trying to argue. Gabe usually got extra paranoid whenever anyone was involved in an assignment away from their home base in San Antonio. Though they’d escaped being run off the road largely unscathed, there was no guarantee that the threats wouldn’t escalate. And considering how confusing things had gotten between her and Ben, it might not be so bad having Asher around to break up some of the tension.

She glanced out the window, wondering where he was planning to take her. She recognized that they were in the general area of the Ocean Rodeo Marina. Perhaps he had stayed up even later and had discovered some shocking new piece of information?

This assumption was short lived, however, as Ben continued to maneuver the car toward the southern end of the island. They passed several rows of RVs and trailers–no doubt some kind of camping park–until finally Grace could see the water.

“This is the spot,” Ben said, pulling the car into a parking space.

“Here?” she asked, pulling a face. The palm trees and the ocean were beautiful, of course, but it was hardly the most idyllic location they’d seen so far.

Ben chuckled. “Sorry, princess. I know this won’t meet your standard for viewing a tropical sunrise,” he joked.

“You know what I mean!” she said, feigning a stern expression as he gestured in the direction of the gulf and started walking.

It felt good to joke with him again, even a little, but she still didn’t feel ready to reach out for his hand. Instead, she followed a few steps behind him, watching the campers.

She could see two older ladies in sun visors jogging up the road, quickly outrun by a pack of six college girls in trendy athleisure, laughing loudly as they discussed their party plans for the night. She imagined how peaceful the island must be during the off season, and wondered if she could convince her parents to choose it for their next family vacation destination.

“So,” Ben said, stopping short and turning to face her. “What do you think?”

Finally, she realized why he had dragged her out here.

A statue of Jesus stood near the water, his arms outstretched as though blessing the blue expanse spread out before him as the sun rose.

“It’s calledEl Cristo de los Pescadores, or ‘Christ of the Fishermen’,” he explained, looking suddenly shy.

Grace’s heart felt as though it might burst out of her chest as she walked forward, examining the statue more closely. It had gone green with age, and sat atop a base made of square stones with several plaques attached.

“Father! Receive the souls of these brave fishermenwho have sailed through this pass and never returned,” she read aloud, glancing up at the calm face of Jesus.

It was beautiful. And when so much had already gone wrong on this investigation, it was just the reminder she needed that her Savior was walking with her in every difficulty.

“It’s hardly a world-class monument or anything,” Ben said, speaking so quickly that he almost stammered. “It’s only like ten feet tall, and I mean, it’s next to a bunch of parking lots, but I thought you’d want to see it anyway.”

She tore her eyes from the statue and turned toward him, her feet bringing her closer before her mind had time to think things through. Her hands found his broad, firm chest, and he smelled so good that she wondered if he’d actually purchased cologne.

“I love it,” she said softly. “Thank you.”

His hands found her waist, pulling her in. She savored the strength of his hands as they held her. Nothing and no one could hurt her here, not while he was protecting her. Since Indonesia, she’d gotten used to the constant hum of worry that filled her heart. With him, it always faded away like mist.

She tilted her face upward, releasing a murmur of longing as their faces moved closer together.

And then, all at once, he released her and pulled away, his jaw set firm.

She flinched, stepping backward as though she’d been struck.

She could hear nothing but the lapping of the gentle waves against the rocks and the hum of a nearby generator. His face was unreadable, like he’d slipped his mask back on without her noticing, hiding the true person beneath a blank and hollow shell.

“What’s wrong?” she asked at last, feeling suddenly exposed and foolish as the group of chattering girls ran past them a second time. Goosebumps prickled along her arms, and she clutched them around her chest, suddenly annoyed by the morning’s breeze.

“Nothing,” Ben said, his voice devoid of emotion.

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