Choking for air and grabbing at the cord, James lost control of the vehicle. They careened into a black-and-orange striped ROAD CLOSED - DETOUR sign and skidded into the ditch, tipping in slow motion.
Halle kept her body braced between the two seats—the only thing preventing her from being bounced around like a rag doll. By the time the vehicle came to a stop, her limbs were shaking uncontrollably. As hard as she tried to hold her position, she sagged to the upside-down ceiling of the vehicle.
No sound came from the front seat. Was James unconscious? Was he dead?
Sirens blared, and voices shouted. Seconds later, something battered the windows, shattering them.
“Don’t move,” a man shouted. “You’re under arrest!” A shadowy head popped into view, then another one.
The second guy hollered, “We’re gonna need a stretcher!”
Halle felt the cord connected to her wrist jiggle.
“And some wire cutters!”
The next few minutes passed in a blur of men shouting back and forth. One of them cut the cord from her wrist, and powerful arms pulled her out of the back seat. She recognized them, although she shouldn’t have. “Owen?” She shuddered out his name, wondering if she was dreaming.Maybe she hadn’t survived the accident after all, because the only way she could be in her husband’s embrace was if…
“Halle!” His hoarse cry filled her ears as he hauled her closer, so close she could barely breathe. “I’ve got you, babe.” He was laughing and weeping at the same time as he carried her out of the ditch and sat with her in the grass on the side of the road.
“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” She reached up dizzily, cupping his face between her hands.
“Nope! We lied about that. Sorry.” He dipped his head closer, nuzzling her lips.
Hot tears dripped down her cheeks. She couldn’t tell if they were his, hers, or both of theirs. “I-I don’t understand.” Shock, joy, or some combination of both made her tremble.
“I’m alive. You’re alive.” He touched his hard mouth tenderly to hers. “The twins are alive. Jen is alive. Rex and the Carters are alive. Want me to keep going?”
“Ryder and Cooper are alive?” Her voice shook so hard that she could barely get the words out.
“Very much alive and demanding to know when their mom is coming home.” He kissed her again, joyfully reclaiming what was his.
This was real. He was real. What he was telling her was real. “Oh, Owen!” All she could do was cling to him.
“We made up the story about the wake and funeral,” he explained, “hoping to bring James out of hiding. We didn’t know if it would work, but it did!” A chuckle rumbled through him. “Granted, it might not have worked as well without your help. After seeing what you did to him, remind me to never make you angry.”
“Not funny,” she grumbled against his lips.
He chuckled. “Too soon?”
“Way too soon.” She kissed him for all she was worth, and he kissed her silly in return.
They didn’t stop until someone started clapping—several someones—a growing audience of policemen and Owen’s coworkers.
“That was some kiss,” one of them yelled.
“Agreed,” her husband said huskily against her ear. “No complaints here.”
To their friends, he hollered. “Don’t expect an apology because you aren’t getting one.”
Laughter erupted.
Luke Hawling approached them, tapping a finger against his watch. “Not to throw a damper on things, but we still have a wake to attend. If we head to Town Square now, we might still make it on time.”
A hysterical laugh slid out of Halle. “We’re attending our own wake?”
The sheriff shrugged. “We need to set the record straight with our families, friends, and neighbors; and I can’t think of a better way to do it.”
He was right. It was time to unravel the story about the fake wake and put an end to the town-wide mourning.
