A Bridge Unbroken (A Miller's Creek Novel) (30 page)

"How can I help you?"

"I tried to use my credit card earlier today, but it was denied."

"Yes. You're over your credit limit."

Her heart pounded against her ribs. "I don't use this card often. Just for emergencies. And then I pay it off each month."

The guy on the other end had the nerve to snort. "Our records show several large online charges over the past two weeks."

Dakota flipped her cell phone shut and stared into space. Phrases like closed account, fraudulent activity, and wracked-up charges played in her mind, and grew louder and more insistent by the minute. Someone out there not only wanted her dead, but completely destroyed.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

C
hance stepped off the porch and took off in a full sprint to the bridge. A thought had lodged in his brain during Dakota's time at the hospital. He'd kept his mouth shut, not wanting to concern her without reason. But now that they were back at the farm, with Dakota securely locked inside and Daisy and the shotgun nearby, he could wait no longer about checking out his suspicions.

Out of breath, he came to stop just shy of the bridge, his lungs pleading for mercy. The place where she'd fallen through was an area of the bridge they'd repaired earlier that morning. He'd gone over every board in that bridge to make sure they could cross over safely to the farm's far pasture. No way the accident should've happened, unless someone had intentionally sabotaged their work while they'd eaten lunch.

With careful steps, Chance eased onto the bridge, checking each plank with one foot before placing his full weight on it. When he reached the place she'd fallen through, he knelt to inspect the area more carefully. Yeah, he remembered this spot. Several smaller pieces created one section across two or three rows, with jack studs underneath for support. But somehow or another the old pieces of lumber had worked their way loose in the short time they'd left the bridge to eat lunch. And not just one or two. All of them.

Chance stood and peered around, searching for any unusual motion or a sign that someone had been here, or was still here. Nothing. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Carter as he retraced his steps toward the farmhouse.

"Hey, Chance."

"Hey."

His friend laughed. "Well, you sound glum. What's going on?"

Chance explained the situation.

"Tell you what. I'll call Ernie, and we'll come out to take a look." Carter's tone took on a tone of authority.

"Don't come to the house. Just drive down to the bridge. Dakota's had a rough few days and I don't want to upset her. Just shoot me a text when you get here."

"Got it. See you in a few."

Chance sprinted back to the farmhouse.

Dakota looked up from her place on the couch as he entered the house with the spare key. Her face was red and splotchy, and she sniffled.

He hurried over to her and pulled her into his arms. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"As if my life weren't messed up enough, someone has managed to access all my financial accounts online."

Chance leaned back to better view her facial expression. "What?"

"My bank account, my credit card, even electronic deposits I receive for my writing. They've all been tampered with." An uneasy look took up residence in her eyes. "Which reminds me of something else I need to tell you."

"What's that?"

She inhaled deeply. "I'm A.K. Aston."

Had she hit her head when she'd fallen from the bridge? "You are not. He's a guy."

Dakota shook her head. "No. He's me. I'm him. A.K. Aston is my pen name."

He fell back against the couch. Aston was an independently-published fantasy author, one he and the rest of the world assumed was a guy. But in light of Dakota's history of living in hiding away from Kane, it made sense. "Don't know what to say, except that I'm very impressed."

"Don't be. Besides, it looks like even that has been washed down the tubes."

"What're you gonna do?"

"I've reported it. Now it's just a matter of getting all my account numbers changed and new cards issued. But it's not likely that I'll get back what I've lost."

His phone ding-a-dinged to let him know he had a text. Carter and Ernie were here. "I've got to step out for a bit. We'll talk more when I get back."

She didn't respond, but stared blankly into nothing, her lips pinched tight and her eyes troubled.

Back at the bridge, he showed Ernie and Carter where Dakota had fallen through, and explained how they'd worked to secure the bridge earlier that day.

Both Ernie and Carter stooped low to examine the loose boards. Finally Ernie stood. "Don't see a bit of evidence that the boards were tampered with, Chance. I'm not saying it didn't happen, but these boards could be loose for several reasons, not the least of which is the age and condition of the wood."

"Yeah, but we just repaired it this morning."

Ernie shrugged and shook his head. "Still no definite proof."

A few minutes later, Carter and Ernie drove away from the bridge as Chance made his way back to the farmhouse. Regardless of what Ernie said and without any doubt in his mind, the bridge had been tampered with. Someone definitely had it in for Dakota. Had figured out a way to drain her financial resources and had even stooped to the extent of loosening boards on the bridge. Evil and sabotage seemed to be the new kids on the block in Miller's Creek, and whatever it took, he had to protect her.

Dakota still sat on the couch, sullen and staring out the window.

His heart melted as a sudden wave of exhaustion swept over him. Shoving past it, he made his way to her side. "I don't want you worrying about all this, Dakota."

Her gaze moved to her hands, hands like that of a pianist, with long, thin fingers. "I'm trying not to, but between the case and the probability of seeing Kane, then the money problem..." Her words trailed off.

"We'll get through it together."

Dakota faced him, her thick red waves of hair flowing over one shoulder. "I can't ask you to do more than you've already done."

"God's with us. We just have to leave it all in His hands." Even if it meant spending the money he'd saved for the drugstore. "I want to pack you a bag."

"What for?"

"You're spending the night at Matt and Gracie's. I'll feel better knowing you're safe."

At first she looked ready to protest, then weary resignation landed on her face. "Whatever. I'm too tired to argue."

The sun sank behind the horizon, painting the sky a vivid orange as they made the drive into town, both silent. Chance tried to wrap his brain around all that had transpired in such a short time, but fatigue cut him short. Chance made sure Dakota was situated at Matt and Gracie's house then headed home for a quick shower, shave, and meal. Whoever had it in for her was still out there, stepping up his attacks. No matter how difficult, he would stay at his post and do everything in his power to protect her. Even if it meant spending every night in his pickup.

* * *

Breakfast smells wafted upstairs to Dakota's nose as she finished putting on her makeup.

"Dakota, breakfast is ready." Gracie's words drifted up the staircase.

"Coming." Dakota zipped her makeup bag and hobbled down the hallway, still fearful of putting too much weight on her ankle. She held on to the banister and hopped down the stairs on one foot.

Matt, coffee cup in hand, beamed up at her. "Hey, that's a pretty nifty trick. Maybe I should try that."

"Uh, no." Gracie eyed him from the stove. "With your klutziness, you'd end up in a pile at the bottom of the stairs."

Dakota laughed as Matt rolled his eyes. Her love and appreciation for the both of them had skyrocketed over her past few days of staying at their house.

Gracie smiled. "You look pretty. Do you and Chance have plans for the day?"

"No." Dakota limped to the cabinets to help set the table. "But I'm determined to get the farmhouse finished."

Matt's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "By yourself? Chance know about this?"

"Not yet." She sat a plate and fork at each of their places. "I'll call him right after breakfast."

The couple exchanged glances, which Dakota opted to ignore. She'd been here five days already. At first it had been fun to spend the time with Matt and Gracie, to get to know them better. And while they were at work, her writing had flowed as it hadn't in months. But something inside still pressed her to finish the house as soon as possible.

Dakota clamped her lips as she set glasses, milk, and juice on the table. Was fear to blame for the compulsion inside her? Fear of seeing Kane again and being delivered right back into his abusive hands? Fear of the upcoming court case and how that would play out? Fear of her finances never being the same after fraudulent activity had emptied her accounts and made her debit and credit card unusable? Fear of whoever was after her--of whoever had left the note knifed to the door--catching up with her? Or worse yet, catching up with the new friends she'd grown to love. Fear of feeling too much for Chance?

As the questions rolled in her mind, she pulled out a chair at the dining room table and sat. After breakfast, she'd pull out the Bible verse cards Matt had suggested for dealing with the fear.

Matt bowed his head to offer the blessing.

Lord, I know all my fears aren't from You. Help me to trust You more.

After the amen, Dakota placed a paper napkin in her lap and spooned scrambled eggs on her plate. "I appreciate what y'all have done for me over the past few days."

Gracie eyed her suspiciously. "You're not planning on moving your things back out to the farmhouse, are you?"

"Actually, I am."

"You know it's okay with us if you stay here while we're out of town." Matt frowned.

"I know, and I'm grateful. But my ankle is better, and there's work to be done." Plus the only way to get past all these fears was to confront them head on. And the sooner the better.

"And, let me guess, Chance doesn't know this either." A wry grin spread across Matt's face. "After breakfast." He spoke the words in unison with her.

Once breakfast was over, the kitchen cleaned, and Matt and Gracie gone for the day, Dakota pulled out her cell phone and plopped down on the couch, peering out the front window at the abnormally beautiful day. A great forecast for getting the outside of the house painted.

Chance answered on the first ring. "Hey, Red." His voice held an odd combination of warmth and weariness.

She frowned. Was he not sleeping well? He'd been leaving Matt and Gracie's every night around nine. "You sound tired."

"Just a bit." He didn't elaborate. "You need something?"

Dakota steadied her nerves with a deep breath before she delivered the news that he was sure to protest. "Um, just wanted to let you know I'm going back to the farm today. Matt and Gr--."

"No." The warmth vanished from his tone.

No? Since when did he give her orders? And did he really expect she would heed his command, especially when spoken in that tone of voice?

"As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted, Matt and Gracie are headed out of town, so now's a good time to go back to the farm."

"I'll call Mama Beth and see if you can stay with her."

A sigh of frustration escaped. He could be so obtuse. "I'll be fine. My ankle's better, and there's work to be done. I want the house finished before I go to court." Before Kane found yet another way to make her life miserable.

"You stay put until I get off work. Understand?" His tone grew more cranky and demanding, and she envisioned the thunderstorm in his eyes.

A fire sparked within. "Why are you so cranky? I'll do what I want, thank you very much. You're not my boss." Without giving him a chance to answer, she flipped her phone shut just as Gracie entered the front door, a serious expression on her face.

"Something tells me Chance didn't like the idea of you going back to the farm." Her friend spoke the words as she stepped to a nearby console table to pick up a file.

"That's the understatement of the year. I just don't get why he's so cranky." She stood and faced her friend. "It's almost like he hasn't had any sleep."

"He hasn't."

Dakota's head cocked to one side.

"In case you haven't noticed, Chance is very concerned for your safety. When he leaves here every night, he doesn't stay gone."

"What do you mean?"

"He drives down the street, turns around and parks his truck so he can keep an eye out for anyone who might try to hurt you."

Her lips parted. The growing fatigue she'd seen on his face every night. The worried expressions she'd glimpsed on his face when he didn't notice her studying him. "How do you know?"

"I first saw him the night you were in jail. Matt and I both tried to talk him out of it." Gracie's dark eyes flashed. "He wouldn't hear of it. Then a few nights ago, when Matt took Daisy for a walk? He saw him camped out in his truck again."