THE CHRISTMAS TARGET
When new evidence surfaces that Harper Shelbyâs niece is possibly alive, Harper doesnât expect it to endanger her life. For her protection, she has to put her much-guarded trust in Logan Fitzgerald, the man who unknowingly led a killer to her doorstep. Hired to track Harper down, security and rescue expert Logan doesnât like that heâs been used to find a woman who someone apparently wants dead. Now he wonât leave Harperâs side until he can guarantee her safety and untangle the truth from the lies regarding her sisterâs and nieceâs murders. The closer they get to finding answers, the more intent the killer becomes on making sure that there wonât be a family reunionâor happily-ever-afterâfor Harper this Christmas.
Mission: RescueâNo job is too dangerous for these fearless heroes
Finding Harper had put her in danger. He felt responsible for her. Whether Harper thought so or not.
âIâve been found. Your mission is complete, Logan. I donât know why I even agreed to let you stand guard tonight, but you did that, too. Now itâs over. The bad guy is gone. Iâm safe. Donât put yourself at any more risk on my account.â
She sounded tired, and he wondered what it must feel like to go from a peaceful and quiet existence to chaos and trouble.
âMy job,â he responded, âis filled with risk. This is no different.â
âIt is, because this isnât your job anymore. You did what you were paid for,â she argued.
âWeâre wasting time discussing it,â he said. âEvery minute that we spend talking, the guy after you is a little closer to escaping.â
âIf heâs injured, heâll show up at a hospital. The police can arrest him there.â
âIâm not taking chances. Thatâs not how I work. I led the guy here. Iâm going to make sure heâs caught.â
Dear Reader,
There are times when life is hard. We struggle, we worry, we fight to hold on to what weâve striven so hard for, but the more we struggle, the harder it is to grasp. It is easy to stand in those moments, wondering where God is. It is easy to think that He has turned from us. Yet the Bible is clearâin the deepest darkness, He is there. In the hardest moments, He is there. He will never leave or forsake those who love Him, and in this promise, we can rest. Whatever your today, I pray that your tomorrow will be bright and filled with His presence.
I love to hear from readers. You can reach me at [email protected] or visit me on Facebook or Twitter.
Blessings,
Aside from her faith and her family, thereâs not much SHIRLEE MCCOY enjoys more than a good book! When sheâs not teaching or chauffeuring her five kids, she can usually be found plotting her next Love Inspired Suspense story or wandering around the beautiful Inland Northwest in search of inspiration. Shirlee loves to hear from readers. If you have time, drop her a line at [email protected].
Show me Your unfailing love in wonderful ways.
By Your mighty power You rescue those who seek refuge from their enemies.
âPsalms 17:7
To my parents, Ed and Shirley Porter. Again. Because they are a beautiful example of what forever love means.
ONE
Tires on gravel.
The sound of a visitor.
An unexpected one, and that made Harper Shelby stop, her back still bent over the shovel, the deep red clay just under its lip.
She didnât get visitors.
Not ever.
And that was the way she liked it. It was the reason sheâd bought twenty acres out in the middle of nowhere, and it was the reason sheâd stayed there. The cabin had been nothing when sheâd moved inâjust four walls and a loft, a tiny kitchen meant to be used by hunters. Sheâd made it into something beautifulâa two-story structure with just enough room for her and her dog. One bedroom upstairs. One bathroom. An office on the lower level. A kitchen that was small but functional. A living area and wood-burning stove that heated the place in the winter.
The kiln at the back of the cleared acre that the cabin sat on.
It had cost a small fortune, but sheâd earned a small fortune playing with the clay she pulled from the creek beds on the property. Lydia would have laughed at that if sheâd been alive. Harperâs older sister had been like thatâfilled with amusement at life and the people in it. She wouldnât have missed the irony of Harperâs new career. No more clean and sterilized office in one of DCâs most prestigious graphic design firms. No more climbing the corporate ladder, working to impress a boss, earning a bonus, getting the best clients. No more neat brownstone with all the amenities Harper and Lydia hadnât grown up with. Now Harper shaped clay, molding it into pots and vases and plates that people seemed willing to pay top dollar for. Every one of the pieces was signed with Harperâs pseudonymâRyan A. Harper. Lydiaâs middle name. Harperâs first.