“Have you seen this one, Nina?” Lillian asked, grabbing a magazine from the top of the stack. She licked her thumb and flipped to an earmarked page.
The picture was of a woman standing on a beach, the bright blue sky and azure waters behind her, looking quite bored and desperately in need of a meal. She wore a bright white v-neck dress, clinging to the edges of her shoulders. The bodice was gathered from shoulder to the silver beaded empire waist. The chiffon and silk dropped straight down into a flowing a-line skirt.
“It’s perfect,” I said, sighing over its beauty.
Jared peered over from the end of the couch and Claire covered his eyes with her hand. “You can’t look!”
“Well, you’re going to be easy to shop for!” Lillian giggled. “Does your mother have any favorites?”
“Cynthia doesn’t…do weddings,” I said with a smirk.
Jared pulled his sister’s hand from his eyes and smiled at me. “You like that one?”
“Well, I’d have to try it on.”
“Oh my, you will look so beautiful in that dress, Nina.” Lillian said as she hugged me to her, kissing the top of my head.
“Does it go with a small white chapel on a tiny island off Nicaragua?” Jared asked.
I looked up at him, trying to keep the corners of my mouth from turning up. “I think so.”
“What?” Lillian asked, looking at Jared with a confused half-smile.
“When we went to Little Corn during Spring Break, we found a little chapel on the island. That’s where the ceremony — the very small ceremony — will be. It only seats about fifty…possibly less.”
Lillian looked at me with surprise.
Claire gasped and then laughed, her mouth formed into an ‘O’. “You are so dead, Jared!”
“A Nicaraguan island?” Lillian said softly. “Okay…we’ll make it work,” she said with a sweet smile.
“You have to take a boat to get there, Mom,” Jared added.
Lillian looked at Jared and then at me, trying to find words. “Wedding guests taking a plane to Nicaragua, and then a boat to a tiny island with huts for accommodations,” she thought aloud.
I shut the magazine as Jared walked over to his mother, patting her shoulder. “It gives us a good excuse to keep the guest list to a minimum.”
Lillian’s eyes brightened. “There’s always the reception,” she chirped, thumbing through another magazine.
Jared laughed at his mother’s unfailing optimism.
Lillian hugged me again and stood up, hooking her arm around the shoulders of her youngest son. “Bex has an early training session in the morning. Let me know if you need anything, Nina. I love you both,” she smiled.
Claire shook her head at her mother with amused affection and then looked at me. “She lives for this stuff.”
“Don’t think you’re going to get away with anything like this, young lady,” Lillian called to Claire. “Plan on a ridiculously lavish church wedding, now.”
Claire waved to her mother, and I could see her expression turn to unease as I looked down to flip through more pages of the magazine.
“What is it, Claire?” Jared asked.
“We left a few loose ends at the restaurant. Those men are loyal to Grahm, Jared.”
After several moments of silence, I looked up. Jared’s expression was impatient. “This could have waited.”
“I disagree,” Claire said in a concerned tone. “Bex will be watching Ryan for me. I won’t let them come after Nina again.” She looked at me with a maternal softness.
“What do you plan to do?” I asked, feeling a twinge in my chest.
“I’m going to find every person involved, every enemy of Jack’s, every cop that is willing to avenge Grahm’s death…and I’m going to eliminate the threat.” She looked at Jared. “It’s what Dad would have done.”
Jared looked at his baby sister with an appreciative smile. “And when do you plan on doing this?”
Claire walked over to the table and unzipped the hot pink duffle bag. Within seconds, she molded a rifle from several pieces and then clicked on the scope, swinging the thick black strap over her shoulder.
“When are you coming back?” I asked, leaning forward in reaction to her apparent departure.
“When the job’s done,” she smiled, loading her holsters. She lifted her foot to the table and twirled a large knife around her finger, shoving it into a case in her thick, black boot.
Jared rested his hands gently on her shoulders, kissing her forehead. “Watch your six,” he said, joining me on the couch.
“Claire….” I said, feeling my eyes gloss over.
She laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I never miss.” Her eyes became unfocused and her expression turned menacing. “They ended their lives when they aimed at my sister.”
She pulled her sunglasses over her eyes, and her straight, platinum bangs fell over the top of the rims. Walking to the door, she gripped the strap of her rifle with one hand, and twisted the knob with the other.
“Gotta go to work,” Claire smiled wickedly, and then shut the door.
Acknowledgements
Thank you is not enough to say to my amazing mother Brenda, for a lifetime of love and encouragement, and to my daughters Eden and Hailey, for hugs, kisses and patience when Mommy was on a roll; my best friend/sister/cheerleader Beth for inspiration, endless enthusiasm, support and encouragement, and for being, without fail, overly confident that good things would come; my friends Lisa and Carrie, for swinging their pom-poms after every chapter, and who without this book might not have been finished; to my agent Jeff Mayhugh, who turned hope into reality, and Lindsey Bechtel Toscano for introducing me to the man who would become my agent; my friend Nicole Lambert whom I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting in person, but who devoted her time to my first web page, simply on the basis that she is generous and kind; my editor Ginger Hunter, who spent an entire summer turning the pages of Providence with a red pen so that it would be a novel instead of a good try; to Trisha Johnson of Shutter Full of Dreams Photography for working pro bono on a tight schedule, and for answering without so much as a dramatic pause; and to Dr. Ross Vanhooser, Wayne and Wanda Bookout, Chad Petrie, Jimmy Dean Hartzell, Kyra Bright, Erin Androulakis, Joseph Garza, Gregg Burlison, Shelly Stutchman, Jimmy Rivera, Larry Harris, Bobbi Washburn, Orlin and Terry Harms, and Jeff Washburn for their selflessness so that I might succeed.
Jamie McGuire graduated from Northern Oklahoma College with a degree in Applied Science in Radiography, and lives with her two young daughters in Oklahoma. Her website is www.jamiemcguire.com. She is now a full- time, independent writer, currently working on the second installment of the
