Ollie joined her in the kitchen.
“How’s Truman doing?” she asked, pretending she hadn’t been spying on them minutes ago.
“Good. He says he wants one of Kaylie’s snickerdoodles.”
“I’ll do it.” Mercy grabbed a half dozen, taking a bite of one as she went to join Truman. The home was overflowing again with baked goods and casseroles. She stopped in the doorway to his study. He had his eyes closed as he reclined in the big chair. Something inside her burst with happiness at the sight of him safe and in one piece.
My man.
His eyes opened, and he caught her staring at him. “I smelled the cinnamon from the cookies,” he told her.
She sat beside him and set the remaining five cookies on the small table.
“I told Ollie a cookie,” he muttered.
“Like that would satisfy you.”
“True.” He took a giant bite that left less than half a cookie in his hand.
Thankfulness washed through her at the calm of simply sitting with him and eating cookies. He was her heart. His absence had made that clear to her.
Does he know I feel that way? How many times have I passed up the chance to say so?
An overwhelming urge to tell him opened her mouth. She wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. “You know . . .” Her mouth went dry. Why is this so hard?
He looked at her expectantly, and she took his hand.
“At one time I steeled myself against feeling the way I do about you. And I did it for the exact reason that just happened to us—I lost you and it ripped my heart to shreds. I was devastated.”
“That’s understandable, since your family—”
“Let me get this out,” she interrupted. “I’ve wasted too many moments.”
He nodded and took another cookie, his gaze never leaving hers.
“I was numb for years after being shunned by my family—cast out by people who were supposed to always have my back. People I loved with all my heart.” Her voice cracked as she thought of the time she’d lost with her family. Especially her brother Levi. “I didn’t want to ever hurt or feel betrayed like that again, and you know I kept a distance between myself and others. But I’ve learned from having you and Kaylie in my life . . . it hurts when a loved one is lost. It hurts like hell, and I felt as if I’d never recover . . . but the other ninety-nine percent of the time is so worth that chance of pain.” She forced out a laugh. “When you were gone, I got angry with myself for insisting on taking our relationship slow,” she said quietly. “I thought your disappearance was the universe punishing me. Those days were brutal, but now I have you back . . . I’m never wasting time like that again.”
He squeezed her hand. “It wasn’t time wasted. You aren’t the same person that you were last fall . . . you needed the time to cross over to the dark side.” His expression was deadly serious. “You can’t rush that sort of thing.”
Tears started as she laughed.
He wiped the crumbs from his mouth. “I know this isn’t a romantic situation. I’m not on my knees and I don’t have a ring, but I want you to marry me.”
Her heart stopped. Is this what I want?
Truman tightened his grip. “What do you say, Special Agent Kilpatrick? Are you interested in marrying a police chief? Because he wants you with all his heart.”
Can I do this?
She studied him. His face was bruised and battered, and he had snickerdoodle crumbs on his shirt. But she loved him with every ounce of her being, and she didn’t feel an ounce of fear.
This is right.
He was perfect for her. And so was his proposal.
He gets me.
She lunged into his lap, not caring that he winced or that her leg complained. “I do!”
“That’s the answer that comes later. I think right now you’re supposed to say yes.”
“Yes!” She kissed him slowly, tasting sugar and cinnamon. “But you’ve got to promise to never disappear on me again.”
“The same goes for you,” he muttered. “When should we do it?”
“I suspect another wedding will be happening in the next few months,” she speculated.
“Rose?”
“Yes. I think she wants to see how Nick is after the baby comes . . . I could be wrong. Maybe it will happen before that, but I don’t want to take away any of their limelight.”
“Agreed. What about Christmastime? That’s about eight months away.”
So far off. Her immediate mental complaint made her smile. He was right—she wasn’t the same person she had been last fall. “I’d love a Christmas wedding.”
“Deal.” He kissed her again and pulled her closer. “I told you in the water I’d always hold on to you.”
“And I promise the same.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This is my thirteenth novel. Unlucky thirteen flowed more smoothly for me than the majority of my books, and I believe it’s because I now know Mercy and Truman inside and out. I hear them speak in my head, and I know how they feel when I throw roadblocks in their paths.
My original plan was to write four Mercy books, but my publisher agreed I could write two more. I’m extremely fortunate to write for a house that gives me the freedom to pursue what I want, and I’m thankful every day that Montlake took a chance on me. Anh, Galen, Jessica, Elise, and Colleen are the best in the business. Jessica, you’ve been the heart and rock-solid core of Montlake—I will miss you terribly!
I appreciate my readers who spend time with the characters I pull out of my head. Your emails and tweets always make my day. Thank you for enjoying Mercy and Truman. I know many of you are waiting for more Mason and Ava—it will happen! I miss them too.
Thank you to Melinda Leigh, who kicks me in the rear when I need it and is just a text away to brainstorm when I’m stuck. The three thousand miles between our homes feel like nothing. It’s pure gold to have a friend who shares your love of plotting murders.
Thank you to my family, who are supportive and cheer for me along this unexpected journey. I never planned to write books; I wrote the first to simply see if I could finish one. Then I wrote more to see if I could improve enough to be published. By then I was hooked and had discovered a community of people who loved to read books and write as much as I did.
More Mercy books to come!
WANT TO READ THE ORIGINAL BOOK THAT INTRODUCED FORENSIC SPECIALISTS DR. LACEY HARPER AND DR. VICTORIA PERES? TURN THE PAGE TO READ AN EXCERPT OF THE FIRST BONE SECRETS NOVEL, HIDDEN, AVAILABLE NOW.
CHAPTER ONE
Lacey Campbell stared across the hazy field of snow at the big tent pitched against the rundown apartment building. She inhaled a breath of icy air, letting it fill her lungs and strengthen her resolve.
There. That’s where the body is.
Her stomach knotted as she trudged toward the site, carefully watching where she placed her feet. She yanked on the sides of her wool hat and tucked her chin into her scarf as she strode through the fluff, blinking away the swirl of snowflakes. Snow was great, unless you had to work in it. And six inches of new snow covered the grounds of her current assignment. This weather was for skiing, sledding, and snowball fights.
Not for investigating old bones in a frosty tent in Boondocks, Oregon.
Two big boots appeared in her downward line of vision. She hit her brakes, slipped, and landed on her rear.
“Do you live here?” The cop’s voice was gravelly and terse.
From her ungraceful, sprawling seat on the ground, Lacey blinked at the meaty hand he held out.
He repeated his question and her gaze flew to his scowling face. He looked like a cop who’d stepped straight out of prime-time TV. Solid, tough, and bald.
“Oh!” Her brain switched on and she grabbed his offered hand. “No, I don’t live here. I’m just—”