Secret Intentions. Пола Грейвс

catch us.” The extra weight of the truck would give Jesse the advantage, but if he didn’t keep other vehicles between him and the truck, a high-powered rifle could quickly even the playing field.

      He also had the advantage of knowing the back roads of Chickasaw County better than their pursuers, whipping the Ford Taurus down a pothole-pocked blacktop road. The road cut past Mill Pond, where he’d caught one of the biggest bluegills he’d ever seen, and twisted up the southern face of Gossamer Mountain. Over the hill lay Gossamer Lake and home.

      He checked the rearview mirror frequently. No sign of the truck.

      “Do you have any water?” Evie tried to stifle a cough.

      Jesse reached into the backseat to retrieve the bag of supplies he’d packed for his stakeout. He handed Evie a bottle of water from the bag, and she flushed her face and eyes. “Someone grabbed me at the church. Sprayed me right in the face with pepper spray. I couldn’t even catch my breath long enough to yell for help.”

      “How about now? You breathing okay?”

      “Mostly.” She coughed again. “I’m better.”

      He pulled out his phone and dialed his brother Rick’s cell number.

      Rick answered on the first ring. “Where are you?”

      Jesse caught his brother up on what had happened. “I’ve got Evie, but I’m not sure I should take her back to the church. Can you call Evie’s cell number? Someone will answer and you can tell them Evie’s safe.”

      “I’m not ruining Rita’s wedding!” Evie protested.

      Jesse slanted a quick look at her. “That can’t be a consideration, Evie. You know that.”

      “Am I your prisoner?” she shot back, her glare lethal even through swollen eyelids.

      “You think putting yourself and the rest of your family at greater risk is going to make her happier?” Jesse argued.

      “Take me back to the church, Jesse.”

      “Take her to the church,” Rick said. “We’ll meet you there.”

      Jesse pressed his lips into a thin line, every instinct telling him to stash Evie in the nearest safe house. But was he letting his affection for Rita’s kid sister get in the way of his good sense? He needed Baxter Marsh’s cooperation now more than ever. Spiriting his daughter away without even consulting him was hardly going to win him over.

      “Okay,” he said aloud, ignoring the twisting sensation in his gut. “We’ll go back to the church.”

      * * *

      “Y OU CAN ’ T POSTPONE the wedding.” Evie looked at her sister in dismay. “All that money going to waste? It’s ridiculous.”

      Rita’s lips curved in a faint smile. “Trust you to look at it from an accounting perspective.”

      “Rita, please. If you postpone it now, we let those creeps win.”

      “You can’t walk down the aisle when you can barely see, Evie.” Rita winced as she looked at Evie’s face. “And I know you were looking forward to being my maid of honor.”

      “I was looking forward to your getting married to a man who makes you happy,” Evie answered, even though her sister was right. She had been looking forward to being her sister’s maid of honor.

      Their relationship over the years hadn’t always been close, especially during the teenage years when Rita had resented her younger sister’s constant tagging along, and Evie had been jealous of Rita’s being first to do everything. But they’d forged a strong bond over the past few years, and being her sister’s chosen attendant had been a big deal to Evie.

      “Oh, Evie,” Rita murmured, her eyes filling with tears.

      “I want you to marry Andrew and be disgustingly happy for the rest of your life. That’s all that matters.”

      Rita’s gaze slanted to her left, where Jesse Cooper stood near the wall of the bride’s room, a silent sentinel. Evie wondered what her sister was thinking about her ex’s presence. She had tried to warn Jesse that coming into the bride’s room with her might not be the best idea, but he’d refused to let her out of his sight. Apparently he’d assigned himself to be her personal bodyguard, and he took the job very seriously.

      “I should thank him,” Rita said, reluctance thick in her voice.

      “It’s not necessary. He lives for this kind of thing.”

      Rita’s lips curled upward again. “I know.”

      Evie supposed she did. Jesse Cooper hadn’t changed much in the past ten years, despite his change of careers. The same strong sense of honor, duty and ethics he’d learned in the Marine Corps had traveled with him to his new job as head of Cooper Security.

      “I’m glad he came.” Rita kept her voice low so that it wouldn’t carry to where Jesse stood watch. Evie suspected it was a futile effort; knowing Jesse, he could probably read lips.

      “Why’s that?” she asked Rita.

      “Because it helped me be absolutely sure I’m over him.”

      “You didn’t know that before you said yes to Andrew?” Evie tried to arch an eyebrow, but the stinging pain of her swollen eyes wouldn’t allow it.

      “I thought I knew. I was pretty sure I knew.” Rita smiled. “But now I know for certain.”

      Evie darted a quick look at Jesse, wondering if he was over Rita, as well. Their courtship had been intense and passionate, their breakup equally explosive. Even now, Jesse couldn’t hide his reaction whenever Rita’s name came up in conversation.

      “Are you sure, Evie? About our going ahead with the wedding?”

      “Positive,” she answered. “And who knows? I have an hour to recover. If I’m feeling better, I can put a little extra makeup on to cover the redness and swelling. Besides, everyone will be looking at you anyway.”

      Rita took a deep breath before she spoke. “Okay, then. We’ll go ahead with the wedding. Try putting cold compresses on your eyes. I want you up there with me.” She gave Evie a quick, fierce hug.

      As Rita followed their mother back to the private chamber to finish her preparations for the wedding, Evie dropped wearily on the nearby bench, pressing her hands to her throbbing forehead. The stinging burn of the pepper spray had mostly subsided, and her vision had cleared up considerably, but those irritations had been replaced by the beginning of a brain-pounding headache. She hoped it would ease off soon because she was going to do everything she could to stand at the altar as her sister’s maid of honor, headache or not.

      “You okay?”

      She looked up at Jesse’s gravel-voiced query. “Yeah. Just working on a headache. All the stress, I guess.”

      Evie’s father crossed to her side, subtly positioning himself between her and Jesse. “Do you need ibuprofen?”

      “That would be great.”

      Her father pulled a small pillbox from his pocket and fished out a couple of pain relievers. He slanted a pointed look at Jesse. “There’s a water fountain in the hall with a paper-cup dispenser.”

      Jesse frowned, clearly not happy about leaving Evie alone, even with her father, but he’d been a Marine long enough to balk at disobeying an order from a general. He disappeared through the door.

      “We need to call the police,” her father said. “They should be looking for the truck.”

      “Jesse thinks the local police aren’t equipped to handle the men who kidnapped me.”

      “Jesse thinks.” Her father grimaced. “Jesse thinks a lot of things.”

      “He’s right about this. You know he is.”