Page 3 of Reunion at Mistletoe Lodge
“The FBI are the ones that need to thank you,” Zac pointed out. “You lost so much helping us put one of the most violent crime families away.” He stopped and looked at her apologetically. “Sorry, I know they were your family…”
“No!” Barb shook her head. “They werenevermy family. My mother did her best to keep them away from me.” She swallowed as a lump lodged in her throat, thinking about how brutally her parents were killed in front of her because they gave evidence against her mother's father.
“Well, now we can move on from all of it, Barb,” Zac told her. “We can live whereverwe want.”
“I thought we would have to stay in California because of your job with the FBI?” Barb said.
“About that…” Zac said with a grin. “I’m seriously thinking about taking Giles up on his offer to be the head of security for the Holland Corporation.”
Barb’s eyes widened with amazement, and her heart thudded excitedly. “Seriously?” This time, she didn’t have to force a smile. “So we’ll be staying in Denver? Close to Frisco and all our friends?”
“Yes.” Zac nodded. “I was going to wait until I got back to tell you, but it looks like you could use some good news to cheer you up.”
“That’s amazing news, Zac.” Barb leaned forward as her excitement grew, and she made up her mind to share some more exciting news with him. “Zac, I have something else to tell you…” The calls connection began to falter.
“Barb… I…” Zac’s voice was distorted, and his image froze on the screen.
“Zac?” Barb’s voice filled with impatience as she reached out toward the screen, desperately trying to hold onto the connection. “Zac? Can you hear me?”
The screen went blank, abruptly ending the call and making Barb’s heart sink as she sat in silence, staring at the black screen. She didn’t have a chance to wallow in her misery too long as a wave of nausea hit, and Barb had to rush to the bathroom, where she was violently sick.
A few minutes later, she staggered out of the bathroom to find Heather sitting behind the desk, going over the project documents.
“I brought you some ginger ale made by Nana Amara.” Heather pushed the tall glass of ginger ale made for her by the village healer.
“Thanks,” Barb said, taking a seat in front of Heather and sipping the cool drink. “It really does settle my stomach.”
“How did your call with Zac go?” Heather looked at Barb.
“We got cut off,” Barb answered. “The good news is that Zac is thinking of taking Giles up on his offer to be the head of security for the Holland Corporation.”
“That’s awesome,” Heather said, genuinely pleased before her eyes narrowed. “Why do I feel there's a but in there somewhere?”
“Zac is helping his brother Liam with something, so he can only get back in two weeks.” Barb sighed, drinking a bit more ginger ale. “I miss him so much.”
“I can only imagine,” Heather replied. “We miss him too.” She frowned. “Did you tell him the news?”
“I was about to, but the connection dropped.” Barb shook her head.
Heather’s hand reached over the desk and took Barb’s, giving it a supportive squeeze. “Maybe it’s best to tell him in person when he’s here in two weeks.”
“Yeah,” Barb agreed, her heart lifting, thinking of him getting back in two weeks. “I agree.”
“It will be a wonderful welcome back surprise,” Heather encouraged and looked at her wristwatch. “We’d better start locking up. It’s nearly dinner time.”
Barb nodded, and ten minutes later, the Jeep bounced along the uneven gravel road toward the large house they shared in the village. Hours later, when Barb settled into bed, she rechecked her phone, waiting for the familiar goodnight message from Zac, but it didn’t come. She fell into a restless sleep, unable to shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.
CHAPTER 2
Barb
30 November Present Day - Denver, Colorado Airport
The biting cold of December greeted Barb as she stepped into the airport building, her tanned skin prickling from the sudden shift in temperature. The warmth of the African sun felt like a distant memory, replaced by the crisp, wintry air of Denver.
Exhaustion clung to her from the long journey from Central Africa, with stops along the way to refuel Giles’s private jet—a luxury Barb was thankful for, but it didn’t erase the fatigue of traveling—especially when traveling with an active, inquisitive ten-year-old and athree-month-old daughter, Charlotte, the new addition to their family. Unlike Oscar, Charlotte hadn’t fared well during the flight.
Barb looked down at her daughter, who had just woken up and cooed softly, “Hey, sweetheart. " She smiled. “Just a few more hours, and we’ll get you settled.”
