True Horizon Page 2

  Grace returned her gaze to the man, whose focus stayed fixed on his lunch. His face was only shown in profile, but enough to capture her imagination. The beat of her heart quickened with a nervous thrill.

  “I think he took a wrong turn while traveling through Montana,” Jenny said with a glint in her eyes. “He looks like one of those wild guys living in the backcountry, hanging out with grizzly bears.”

  “Maybe he hit his head while hiking and lost his memory,” Molly whispered. “He’s been wandering around the country ever since. I should run a missing persons query and see if his picture pops up.”

  The two women looked at Grace.

  They tilted their heads in unison, appearing like a pair of curious puppy dogs. “I think he looks that way because he’s hiding from the world,” Grace whispered. Her heart squeezed with sympathy. What could have happened to this man, who seemed very handsome under the long hair and beard, that could have made him so antisocial? “I don’t mean that he’s hiding as a criminal, Molly.” She didn’t want her police officer friend to assume the guy was on the wrong side of the law. “I would say he wants to keep people at a distance. I think he has a troubled soul.”

  Wide eyed, Molly and Jenny looked at each other and then back at her.

  “If I didn’t know you were already engaged, I’d think you were captivated with our mysterious visitor.” Jenny gave a wink.

  “Grace always did have a soft spot for anyone in need.” Molly tapped a finger on the plastic table. “When we were young, her dad’s barn was always full of injured animals she doctored. Something tells me that guy would be a lot harder to fix than a bird with a broken wing.”

  “I’m not captivated, just curious.” Grace figured Molly knew her far too well to fall for that line. Tempted as she was to approach him and learn his story, she had to stay focused on why she was here in the first place—her wedding. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave the rehabilitation of people to Officer Hernandez here.”

  “Ha,” Molly said with a snort. “I don’t fix ’em. I just lock ʼem up.”

  The man at the counter stood to leave.

  Grace watched as he placed a few bills next to his empty plate and headed for the door.

  As he opened it, the attached bell gave a ring, and he shot a sudden glance in her direction.

  With their brief eye contact, her world shifted. Seconds later, he stepped outside, and the door closed behind him. The spell was broken. Grace opened her purse and pulled out her phone, noticing several missed calls, two from her mother. “I got to go. Thanks, both of you. I’d go crazy if I had to deal with my mom and the wedding stuff all by myself.” She stood and lifted her leather tote. “Jenny, let me know when you’ve scheduled the twins’ flower girl dress fitting. I’d like to be there.”

  Jenny pulled her into a hug. “You bet. I’m so happy for you, Grace. You will make such a beautiful bride. I hope Tyler knows how lucky he is.”

  “Thanks for treating us to lunch. Love ya.” Grace gave her brother’s wife a kiss on the cheek. She hugged Molly and looked around to make sure she’d packed all the wedding paraphernalia. Throwing her tote over her shoulder, she grabbed her purse, waved goodbye, and headed out the door.

  Stepping outside, Grace sucked in a breath, the intense heat breaking her skin into an instant sweat. She walked along the sidewalk, staying in the shadow of the brick buildings that composed downtown Liberty Ridge. As she past the last building, the shade ended, and she stood under the glaring sun. Blinking to adjust her vision, she headed toward her car, but changed her mind and instead walked toward the Hickory River Bridge. The old, covered wooden bridge was the town landmark. It connected the town’s two sides, otherwise cut in half by the Hickory River.

  Grace stepped onto the low bridge, stopping when she reached the center. Glancing below into the swirling water, she saw a wavy and disjointed reflection. She remembered all the times she had come here as a teenager and seen a younger version of that reflection. Over the years, this river had absorbed many of her tears.

  A sudden low rumble stole her attention. She twisted to see a black motorcycle turning onto the road. The scruffy stranger from the restaurant was several blocks away, heading straight toward her. Her pulse quickened as he got closer to the bridge. She wanted to run in the other direction. Instead, her stubborn feet refused to move, as if nailed in place. Her body clearly wasn’t following her brain’s orders. Her fluttering stomach now called all the shots.

  Chapter Two

  When Heath stepped out onto the sidewalk, he’d breathed a sigh of relief. Inside the cafe, the walls had begun to close in, and the women’s conversation had only made him more eager to leave. He’d heard it all. At first, their speculation about him had been amusing. But, then the woman with the dark braid, Grace was her name, had hit straight on the truth. He’d felt as exposed as a bug pinned to a board.

  Straddling his Harley, he sat for a moment and took in his surroundings. Liberty Ridge was exactly what he’d grown to expect of a small, rural Texas town—one long main street with time-aged buildings running along either side. American flags hung off light poles and a wide banner stretched across the street, advertising the annual Founders’ Day Celebration in two weeks.

  After levering up the kickstand, he started the bike and drove it to the edge of the parking lot, until its front tire connected with the street. His gaze followed the rows of storefronts until they gave way to an old, covered bridge. Where to go now? The question hung in the hot air. He could cross the bridge and take the back country roads—his destination to be discovered along the way. Or, he could return to the interstate and continue to Dallas.

  Weighing his options, he sat there, until he noticed her step out of the shadows and onto the bridge. As she walked, her long braid swayed with her hips, moving in a unified dance only he appreciated.

  She suddenly stopped and peered into the river.

  He took her presence on the bridge as a sign, leading him to roads and places unknown. Heath revved the engine and drove his motorcycle slowly down the road until the rumble of wooden planks hit his ears.

  An old VW Beetle approached from the opposite direction. The beater’s front fender hung on by a few rusted bolts and a large dent decorated the hood.

  He looked at Grace, who stood as still as a statue, watching him advance.

  In a flash, she pivoted, putting her body in the trajectory of the rickety car.

  The startled driver swerved, but he was too late and struck her in the leg.

  Seconds passed in slow motion. Every sense in his body heightened in swift reaction to the impending emergency. He watched her body be pushed toward the waist-high rail, flip over, and fall headfirst into the river.

  The car came to a screeching halt, and its body shook with the sudden stop.

  Heath hit the throttle and crossed the bridge, coming to the grassy embankment that sloped into the river. With the steady concentration that came with years of military training, he killed the engine before jumping off his bike and letting it fall. The river was running faster than he’d expected. He could see no sign of anyone in the water.

  Sliding down the riverbank, Heath came to rest on the gravel lining the water’s edge. He quickly slipped off his boots and socks while sending a quick prayer for the well-being of his bike. When he stepped into the water, cool mud squished in between his toes. His sole focus shifted to locating Grace. Judging from the current flow, he believed she would have been towed under the bridge and farther downstream.

  “Call 911,” Heath yelled to the young driver, who had finally exited his car.

  The kid stood on the bridge and looked over the rail, his mouth gaping. “I already did.” His voice wavered. “Do you see her?”

  “No. I’ll swim with the current and search for her.” He now stood waist deep in the water. The chill shocked him. But without hesitation, he dove in and started swimming.

  As he passed under the bridge, he saw a blue object bobbing about thi
rty feet ahead. Adrenaline surged, and he moved swiftly through the water. He was finally within arm’s reach when her body sank out of view. Diving, he opened his eyes but couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. In a last-ditch effort, he flung his arms around until—thump. He finally connected with something hard. Heath clamped onto Grace’s arm, pulled her first toward him, and then back above the water’s surface. He gasped and his lungs filled with air, burning with each inhale.

  Grace wasn’t breathing, so he raced to shore, and then pulled her onto the rough pebbles that lined the bank. Panic swelled at the sight of her limp body, threatening his self-control. In an effort to calm himself, he pushed aside his emotions. His medical training kicked in, and muscle memory took control. He performed CPR until she turned her head and coughed out a stream of water. Some of the adrenaline left his body, and he began to shake in gratitude that she was alive.

  Once she’d regained her breath, she stared upward with unfocused eyes. Her coughing started again, and she moaned.

  The strong pulse in her carotid artery reassured him she was no longer in danger. He set his hand on her head and stroked her hair. “You had a little tumble in the river,” he murmured. “You will be okay.”

  Her hand, speckled with dirt, came up to cover her mouth. Then, she reached to take hold of his arm, grasping his hand. “Don’t leave me.”

  Her voice sounded quiet but firm. As she pulled their joined hands to rest on her chest, Grace’s grasp was unyielding. Her eyes fluttered like the delicate wings of a butterfly. A fierce protectiveness filled him. This beautiful woman would stay under his guard for as long as he was needed.

  “Please don’t leave me,” she said once more before she closed her eyes and stilled.

  Her skin warmed in his hand. She breathed softly, looking angelically peaceful. Sirens sounded in the distance, shaking him out of his daze. Soon, two EMS personnel came running toward him.

  “She’s breathing,” Heath said as they approached. Water droplets fell from his beard and hair. “She might have hit her head during the fall.”

  “We’ll take it from here.” A young, stocky paramedic knelt beside Grace to take her pulse and looked at Heath. “Please step back.”

  Heath tried to remove his hand, but her hold stayed tight. “I can’t. I’m not leaving her side until she’s safe at the hospital.”

  ****

  A distant beeping broke through to her groggy mind. When Grace moved her head, a sharp pain shot up the back of her neck and settled behind her eyes. As long as she stayed still, she was, for the most part, comfortable and warm. Waves of memory washed over her, rising before dissipating.

  She remembered stepping onto the Hickory River Bridge, and then stopped to look at the river. A sound, like rattling metal, increased, and she’d turned to see an old car. She felt no pain when it hit her, pushing her toward the railing.

  Then nothing but darkness and icy cold—a sensation that chilled her to her core. Strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her close. When she opened her eyes, the bright sun temporarily blinded her. A deep voice whispered in her ear, saying everything would be okay. His rough hand stroked her hair and brushed it off her face. When she’d reached for him and found his hand, she was unwilling to let him go. Her body felt as weightless as a helium balloon, floating in the air with only a single tether. If he released her, she would simply drift away.

  As Grace slowly came into the present, she opened her eyes. The bright fluorescent lights burned. She squinted and tried to make sense of the dark figures standing around her. “Where am I?” she croaked.

  “Hey, Butterfly. You’re at the hospital.”

  Her dad’s soft voice was gentle and soothing. “Daddy?” She refocused her eyes to see her mom and dad standing close to her bed. Her mother’s smooth-as-ivory hand took hold of Grace’s.

  “I’m so glad you’re all right.” Joslyn Murray dabbed her eyes with a tissue and sat on the bed, next to her daughter. “Travis Grabel just feels terrible about the accident. He must not have been paying attention to where he was going. That boy shouldn’t be allowed to drive.”

  Joslyn accented her words with a honeyed Southern drawl. One Grace had been trying unsuccessfully to emulate for years. “The accident was my fault,” Grace said. “My mind was wandering, and I turned right into his car.” Her throat felt as dry as straw. Sitting, she felt a flare of pain behind her eyes. She took a sip of water from the plastic cup by her bed. “Yuck. I still have that nasty river taste in my mouth.”

  “You swallowed quite a bit of water.” Her dad took the cup.

  “Daddy, I hope you didn’t call Tyler. He was supposed to be in meetings all day, finalizing a big acquisition deal. I don’t want to bother him with my stupidity.” As desperately as Grace wanted her fiancé by her side, she knew he was a busy man with important obligations.

  Her mother huffed. “Bother him? Don’t be silly. I contacted him right after Molly called about your accident. Tyler was in a meeting, but he said he could leave in a few hours. He should be here by the end of the day. A man should never be too busy to take care of the woman he loves.”

  Her dad’s large hand enclosed her own. A tear glimmered in the eye of the normally stoic man, which made her heart overflow with gratitude and love.

  “We’re so lucky that you’re here with us. The young man who fished you out of the river is in the lobby, waiting to see you. He wouldn’t leave until he knew you were gonna be okay. Can I send him in?”

  Picturing her savior, she felt her stomach tighten into a knot of nerves, but she nodded. “I’d like to thank him personally.”

  “I’ll be right back.” Bruce leaned over to kiss her on the forehead before walking out.

  “Where’s my bag?” Panicking, she scanned the room, and then glanced at her mother. “And my purse and shoes? Please don’t tell me they’re lost in the river.”

  “I’m sorry, but you didn’t have them when you were pulled out. I’m afraid they’re lost.” Joslyn patted Grace’s shoulder. “What a shame.”

  “Ugh,” Grace moaned. “I had my huge wedding organizer in that bag. And my shoes cost a small fortune. I’m sure my dress is probably ruined too.”

  “All those things can be replaced, but you can’t.” Joslyn’s eyes widened. “Did you backup your wedding lists on the computer?”

  “Luckily…yes.”

  The door to her room opened, and her dad entered, followed by the stranger who’d saved her life.

  “Joslyn, let’s give them some privacy.” Bruce held open the door.

  “We’ll go to the cafeteria and grab a coffee.” Her mother walked toward the door but before she left, she stopped and turned to face the stranger. “Thank you so much for saving our daughter.”

  Grace could see both her parents were holding back tears as they exited the hospital room.

  He remained by the door, dressed in scrubs.

  She watched him stand there, arms folded, the muscles in his arms twitching, causing his tattoos to ripple. “I’m glad they found you something dry to wear.” She spoke first to break the silence.

  The man took a step forward. “Some kind nurse took pity on me.” He continued walking toward her.

  His stride was long, and his posture formal and straight. “I never got your name.” She motioned to the empty chair next to her bed. He sat and placed a bag, which most likely held his wet clothes, onto the floor.

  “Heath Carter, ma’am.”

  “Grace Murray.” With soreness burning in her shoulder, she reached over to shake his hand. “It’s nice to officially meet you. Thank you for jumping in after me. You saved my life.” Her soft voice conveyed her gratitude. His hand trembled slightly at her touch. When she looked into his eyes, she saw emotions swimming just below the surface. Fear? Compassion? Vulnerability? No denying the connection she felt with this man, even if he was a stranger.

  “Glad I was there to help. How do you feel?”

  “Besides the bump on my hea
d and a sore throat, I’m all right. Most likely, I’ll survive.”

  “That’s good.” He rested his forearms on the tops of his thighs and leaned forward.

  Heath was so close that she felt a vibrant energy pass between them. “You know, my little spill off the bridge won’t surprise anyone who knows me,” she said with a laugh. “My mother named me Grace, thinking I would become a beauty queen like she was. Little did she know, my name would end up as a contradiction of my entire life. I’m the least graceful person you’ll ever meet.”

  With a smile brightening his face, Heath looked years younger. She guessed he was maybe in his early thirties. Heath sat at her bedside, in borrowed doctor’s scrubs. His brown hair and beard were still damp, and the tattoos on his arms only added to his odd appearance. He looked like a jungle doctor just returned from some wild expedition. The many contradictions Heath presented intrigued her, which increased her desire to learn more.

  “Personally.” He straightened in his chair and raised one hand, his index finger swirled in the air. “I thought you performed a very graceful twirl and dive. That little kick at the end was a nice touch. I’d give it a score of nine points out of ten.”

  Grace tried laughing but coughed instead. “You’re very generous, thanks.” He kept a good sense of humor hidden behind his usually serious expression.

  As Heath stood, a smile flashed on his face, but just as quickly, it vanished. “I should let you rest. Nice meeting you, Grace. Take care and keep both feet on dry land.”

  “How can I contact you?” She couldn’t let him walk out the door, knowing she’d never see him again. “Would you leave your address or phone number?” She would need to find a way to repay him. But how do I properly thank someone for saving my life?

  “I currently don’t have a home address. I don’t have a cell phone. Sorry.” He stuffed his hands into the low pockets of his blue shirt.

  “Oh.” She forced a bright smile to hide her disappointment. “Well then, I guess this is goodbye. Thanks again for risking your own safety. I owe you my life.”