Читать книгу Ransom - Terri Reed - Страница 11

THREE

Liz awoke to a gray, stormy sky outside her window. Despite the ominous clouds overhead, the view from her room was as spectacular as she’d suspected.

The famed Horseshoe Falls were frozen, creating a wall of white. Though Liz knew from what she’d read about the falls when Jillian had first announced she and Travis would be eloping to Niagara and spending their honeymoon in the romantic setting, the water beneath the top layers of ice still flowed due to a steel boom ice catcher.

She wished she had a steel boom to catch Santini. The thought galvanized her to get ready for what lay ahead. Though fear threatened to sap her resolve, she had to forge forward. Her sister was counting on her. He dad was counting on her. She couldn’t fail her father. She’d promised him she’d look out for Jillian. And she’d tried.

She clenched her jaw. If only Jillian had listened to her and not run off to marry Travis. But Jillian had always had a mind of her own and rarely listened to reason.

In fact she’d scoffed at Liz’s attempts to keep her from making mistakes.

If I don’t make mistakes then how will I learn if something is right for me or not?

Jillian’s word echoed through Liz’s mind. Well, hopefully, Jillian learned that Travis was a mistake, but what a painful way to learn that lesson. A lesson that had lifelong consequences. Marriage wasn’t something to enter into lightly. And despite how easy it was to obtain a divorce, both Liz and Jillian had been taught that marriage was sacred, something to be honored and cherished. What was God’s purpose for Jillian to marry a thief and a smuggler? A man obviously not of God.

Judge not, least ye be judged. The line of scripture ran through her head like tickertape, reminding her that it wasn’t right for her to evaluate Travis’s worth.

Still, the man had knowingly committed more than one crime.

Shaking her head with exasperation, Liz selected a long tunic sweater in green over fleece-lined stretch pants tucked inside her winter boots. She was braiding her hair when she heard voices outside her room door.

Blake’s deep tone she recognized. Two others, one male and the other female, she didn’t recognize, but figured they were Drew and Samantha, whom Blake had mentioned last night.

After securing her long braid with a rubber band, she opened the door and entered the living room. Blake had his back to her, blocking her view of the two people with him. But then he turned around and captured her whole focus.

He’d changed into green cargo pants and a cream-colored cable knit sweater. He’d also taken the time to shave, which accentuated the planes and angles of his face. His dark hair was still damp. Liz liked the way the ends curled at his nape. Weariness rimmed his dark eyes. He gave her a quick once-over.

She caught something akin to interest in his expression, which seemed to thaw the hard coldness of his eyes just a tad more. Her heart bumped against her breastbone as attraction zinged through her veins and made her knees weak. Her mouth went dry. Confusion swirled within her brain. She never went all mushy over a man. Only heartache lay in that direction.

Watching her sister fall in love over and over again with various men through the years and then witnessing the emotional upheaval when the relationship ended had drilled home to Liz what she’d learned from watching her father after her mother’s death. Love equaled pain.

Whether it was a bruised ego, as was often the case with Jillian, or a broken spirit like their father, giving one’s heart away meant losing a part of oneself.

Liz had no intention of losing herself for anyone.

“Good morning.” A hint of a smile touched his lips drawing her attention. He had such a nice-shaped mouth. She batted down that errant thought. “I hope you slept well.”