Blind-Date Bride Read Online Free PDF Page B

and found the local newspaper’s Web site. He typed in his password, remembering when he’d first approached Brianna’s table and how she’d smiled up at him. He punched a few keys and hit Search, waiting, recalling how hard he’d been hoping that the nice-looking blonde could possibly be his blind date. And praying equally as hard she wasn’t.
    And why? Going out to meet Alice hadn’t been his idea. After six months of pressure, he’d finally caved. That was all there was to it. He wasn’t a blind-date kind of guy. He’d gone to shut his buddies up, that was it.
    Okay, maybe there was still a little bit of hope alive in him somewhere that he would find the right woman. That there would be that click, and life could turn for the better.
    The screen changed, offering him several links to articles. He hit the last headline and waited. Several grainy black-and-white images crowded the screen with a long front-page article on the holdup. Two kitchenworkers and a cook dead, and a waitress taken by medevac to Seattle’s Harborview Hospital. Brianna.
    With his heart thundering, he scrolled down the screen and skimmed the article. He wanted to see the specifics of the case again in black-and-white. His eyes caught the phrase “…waitress in critical condition. Charles Lintle, the restaurant’s dishwasher, said Miss McKaslin ran to the aid of her fallen coworker without regard for her own safety. That she was injured while trying to save a life seems doubly cruel….”
    Max squeezed his eyes shut, unable to read more. A sick feeling filled his gut. Sympathy left him trembling. This was why he believed in his work, and why he gave his job all he had. He did his best to catch the bad guys before they could hurt more innocent people. But it was never enough, never fast enough.
    He breathed air into his strangling lungs and bowed his head for a quick prayer of gratitude. However badly she was hurt, Brianna had recovered. At least physically. He thanked the Lord for that. The image of her shivering in the parking lot looking alone and vulnerable lingered, getting him right in the soul.
    When he opened his eyes, he read no more. He got off-line, shut off the monitor and wandered through the darkness down the hall. His room was dark, too. Cold inside, he flipped on the lamp and reached for the top book on a big stack on the nightstand. The comforting feel of his Bible felt good in his hands. It had been a long day.
    The mattress faintly squeaked as he sat on the edge and opened the guide to the marked page. If I take the wings of the dawn, if I dwell in the remotest part of thesea, even there Thy hand will lead me, and Thy right hand will lay hold of me.
    He took comfort in the truth that God was watching over them all, that no sorrow went unnoticed, and no valor.
    Brianna stayed on his mind as he sat in the dark, listening to the hours pass.
     
    She woke from the nightmare right before she screamed Juanita’s name. Bathed in sweat, her stomach knotted up with horror and hopeless failure. With her blood thick in her veins, she sat up in bed, blinking, fighting to reorient herself. Gradually the echoing explosions of gunfire faded, the scent of bleach and cooked food evaporated and the vision of injury and death lessened. She groped for the bedside lamp, knocking over knickknacks on the nightstand, and finally found the switch. A small pool of light flashed on, chasing away some of the darkness. A lot of shadows remained.
    The shadows were huge tonight, like living monsters ready to hurl her back into the past. A place she never wanted to revisit. She swallowed against the metallic taste of fear on her tongue and pulled her Bible into her arms. She closed her eyes and recited the Lord’s Prayer until her pulse returned to normal and the memories no longer threatened.
    But would they ever go away entirely? She prayed they would, but tonight they clung stubbornly to her soul. Maybe having her car stolen had shaken her more than