The Bridge to a Better Life (Dare Valley, #8)

Not really. I could probably die a widower, but is that me cutting myself off from human contact and hiding or…shit…is that me worrying I’ll never find someone nearly as wonderful as Kim?

Few women are as wonderful as Kim. Make sure you hold out. You have to WANT this, Andy, or you’ll be miserable. The woman too. Don’t listen to all that cultural bullshit about moving on from the death of a spouse after one to two years. Listen to your heart. It’s always your best guide.

This is why he looked forward to her emails and their chat sessions. Sometimes she knew him better than he knew himself. No one besides Kim had ever known him that way.

You’re a prophet. A goddess. People should worship the ground you walk on.

I was in a polygamist village last week. Don’t think it didn’t happen. I still have my crown.

If it had been anyone else, he’d have sworn she was joking. When you come home, you’ll have to show me that. When ARE you coming BTW?

The cursor flashed as he waited for her to type. Glancing at the clock, he realized he needed to get back to work.

Not sure. I’ll be out on location for a while this time. We have to zigzag around a bit.

What she meant was there was a freaking war underway, so she had to travel around the battles. Sweat beaded his brow as he thought of the danger. He wanted to write: Come home. Please. Stop making us so worried. Why can’t you settle for a calm, normal life?

But he knew her answer. He knew her. She’d never be happy tied to one place.

Instead he wrote: Take care of yourself. Shoot those fabulous pics of yours and send me some so I can see where you are. Danny loves them.

She was always sending him shots of the places she traveled and all the people she encountered. When Danny was old enough, she’d started taking pics of animals too—something new for her. His son still kept the photo of the baby camel she’d shot in Egypt in his room. The funny, fuzzy face always elicited a smile. Lucy had liked the little fella because he was unabashedly goofy, like her.

Get back to sticking people with needles and stuff, you medical cretin. The generator will be going out soon, which means lights out for me. I feel like a kid again, going to sleep at nine o’clock.

No lights after nine. She’d mentioned that rule before on other trips to equally remote locations. He wondered how she bathed. Some places didn’t even have water, he knew, and even the ones that did might not have clean water. He made himself stop obsessing over her living conditions, not to mention all the diseases, worms, and viruses he’d heard horror stories about.

Speaking of sticking people. Please tell me your shots are up to date.

Yes, Dad. Now go back to work. I’ll write when I’m back. Big hug. Luce.

Be waiting to hear from you. Keeping you in my thoughts. Hugging you back. Andy.

She signed off, and he wanted to click her back. The worry still lingered, as it did every time he knew his fearless friend was somewhere particularly dangerous. As he finished his sandwich, he took a moment to call in some help.

Watch out for her, Kim. I’m counting on you.

He went back to work feeling a little more at peace.

The best angel in the universe was looking out for his best friend halfway around the world.





Chapter 19


Monday started as a real bitch of a day. She’d dreamed about Kim. While she couldn’t remember what she and her best friend had talked about, it didn’t matter. In the dream, they were together again, laughing, Blake’s hand rested in quiet connection around her shoulders, and Touchdown was splayed at their feet—just like it used to be. She was sweating and panting when she awoke, and so cold she had to spend over thirty minutes in the shower to get warm again.

After finally falling into the numb place inside her, she made her way to work. Jill popped her head in as she was drinking her first cup of Italian espresso made from Terrance’s incredible machine in the High Stakes’ kitchen. Her cousin danced a salsa all the way to her desk.

“Sooo,” she drew out, waggling her rusty-colored eyebrows. “Someone hung out with her ex and scads of gorgeous football players on Saturday night.”

Not that she could recall much of it. “Yes. Andy and I ran into them.”

“I heard you beat them at darts and pool from Hairy’s bouncer. He’s a regular at Don’t Soy With Me.”

Of course he was. The giant of a man probably liked hazelnut soy lattes.

“Can we not do this?” she pleaded, a headache starting at her temples. “I have work to do, and this whole…thing…makes me uncomfortable.”

Jill slouched her frame and walked to the door like a chagrined child. “Okay.”

Her voice was downright pathetic, which made Natalie feel instantly guilty. “Hey. I’m sorry.”

Her cousin spun around. “I’m sorry too. I keep forgetting how hard this must be for you. It’s just I saw the pics on Twitter and Facebook. You looked so happy again. Some people were hinting…well…”

Oh no. She knew what was coming, but she asked anyway, “What?”

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