Page 21 of North

“The reason you love her.”

He nodded. Blew out a breath. “The reason she terrifies me.”

A half smile lit York’s mouth. “Yeah. I have one of those. I live in the fear of her big save-the-world ideas.”

North nodded. “Every time she walks away, she takes my heart with her.” The words spilled out, and maybe he was tired, too tired, but, “I love how Selah fights for people. How she sees beauty in everything. How she makes me want to be better, to do better.”

York was silent for a moment.

“Excuse me.”

North looked up to see the man from before, bandage on his forehead, holding his gut. “I heard you say the name Selah. Are you talking about Selah Silver?”

North stilled. “You know her?”

“Yeah. She and another man helped me get to the Urgent Care in Cashmere. That’s where they bandaged me up. I caught a ride here with one of the doctors.”

“Start from the beginning,” York interrupted, his voice gentle but urgent. “What’s your name?”

“David.” He settled into a chair with a wince. “I was in the train crash—dining car. Everything happened so fast—the explosion, the screaming. Next thing I knew, I was lying on the ground, a piece of metal in my gut, my head bleeding. And then…she just showed up.”

“Was she hurt?” North said.

“Not that I could see. She and this other guy got a truck, and they helped this guy with a collapsed lung and his family get to the hospital. Took me with them.”

That was Selah. Always caring for others, even in a crisis. North’s chest ached with the familiar mix of pride and fear that thought always brought.

“She saved my life. Her and James.”

“James?” North said. “Who is James?”

“Tall guy. Dark hair. Businessman. He found the truck, helped save Grant—the other guy.”

York went still beside him. North glanced at him.

“Could you describe James again?” York asked. “Any distinguishing features?”

David thought for a moment. “Maybe early forties? Good-looking in that movie-star way. Smooth talker.” He traced a line across his forehead. “And a scar, right here.”

“Did you catch his last name?” York’s voice had gone carefully neutral.

“No. But he seemed pretty unflappable. Like he knew what he was doing.” He winced, leaning back in the chair.

“You’re still bleeding,” North said, seeing it now through his shirt.

“Yeah. They took out the object at the clinic and packed the wound, but it needs…attention.”

And that’s when he passed out. Just turned gray and keeled over. North caught him before he hit the ground.

“C’mon,” York said and grabbed the man’s arm. North took the other, and they dragged the man back to the ER.

York walked them right up to the ER doors. Glanced over at the receptionist. “If you don’t want another fatality, open the door.”

Her eyes widened and she hit the button.

The doors opened and they dragged David in. An orderly was cleaning off a bed, and they scooped him up and set him on it.

“York.” North turned to his friend. “You think⁠—”