Chapter 20

20

Kate settled into the lone chair in Fenn's cramped room, her eyes drawn to his sleeping form. He looked peaceful, the lines of pain and worry smoothed from his face. She placed her weapon on the table beside her and reached for her Bible.

The worn pages felt familiar beneath her fingertips, but as she opened the book, her mind began to wander. She couldn't focus on the words, couldn't find the solace she usually did in the scriptures. Instead, her thoughts kept circling back to Fenn, to the way he'd reacted when she'd told him about her past.

She'd expected disgust, condemnation, a swift order to leave his room and never come back. But instead, he'd looked at her with understanding and compassion. He hadn't pushed her away or treated her like a pariah. If anything, he'd drawn her closer, offering comfort and support when she needed it most.

And then, like he always did, he lightened the mood with a self-deprecating joke.

Gratitude surged through her. She closed her eyes, her lips moving in a silent prayer. She thanked God for Fenn, for his unwavering belief in her, for his ability to see past her mistakes and into her heart.

And as she prayed, she could feel something shifting inside her, a subtle but unmistakable change. The walls she'd built around her heart, the defenses she'd erected to keep everyone at a distance, began to crack and crumble. For the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to imagine a future with Fenn, a life beyond the confines of their dangerous missions and secret identities.

In her mind's eye, she saw a house with a white picket fence, a couple of kids playing in the yard. She saw Fenn teaching them to throw a perfect spiral, while she showed them how to navigate by the stars. She saw a life filled with love and laughter, with purpose and partnership.

It was a beautiful dream, a tempting fantasy. But as she opened her eyes and looked at Fenn's sleeping form once more, she knew it was more than that. It was a real possibility.

The chance for a future she'd never dared imagine.

She smiled to herself, a soft, secret smile. Maybe she could have it all. The thrill of flying, the satisfaction of serving her country, and the love of a good man by her side. It wouldn't be easy, but then again, nothing worth having ever was.

She looked at her Bible once more, flipping to a favorite passage. This time, the words leapt off the page, filling her with a sense of peace and purpose. She knew, without a doubt, that whatever the future held, she was exactly where she was meant to be.

Kate's eyes fell on a well-worn page, the edges softened by countless readings. The words in Romans 8:38-39 were as familiar to her as her own heartbeat, a source of comfort and strength in even the darkest of times.

"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord," she read softly, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Those words had seen her through countless challenges, through moments of doubt and despair. They reminded her that no matter what she faced, no matter what mistakes she made, she was never alone. God's love was a constant, unwavering presence in her life, a light that guided her through even the darkest of storms.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway. Instinctively, she grabbed her weapon and yanked the door open, her heart pounding in her chest.

She found herself face to face with Jimbo, the clerk, still bundled up in his parka and heavy boots against the biting cold. He was holding a tray, which he nearly spilled in surprise at her sudden appearance.

"Saila's been baking," Jimbo said, his voice muffled slightly by his scarf. "Thought you might like some fresh cookies to go with the hot tea."

Kate's stomach rumbled at the mention of food, and she realized with a start that she couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten. She accepted the tray gratefully, the warmth of the tea seeping into her chilled fingers.

"How's Fenn doing?" Jimbo asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

Kate glanced over her shoulder at Fenn's sleeping form, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "He's resting," she said. "I think he'll be okay."

Jimbo nodded, but his expression remained serious. "Storm's coming in," he said, his tone grave. "Wind's kicking around from the northeast earlier than expected. It'll hit tonight, tomorrow morning at the latest. And it's gonna be bigger than they first forecast."

A chill ran down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold. She knew all too well how dangerous an Arctic storm could be. How quickly it could turn deadly. The thought of being trapped here, with an unknown enemy lurking in the shadows, was enough to make her blood run cold.

But as she looked down at the tray in her hands, the scent of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and cinnamon tea wafting up to greet her, she felt a sudden, overwhelming sense of gratitude. Even here, in this harsh and unforgiving landscape, there were people who cared, who went out of their way to show kindness and support.

"Thank you," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "Please tell Saila how much I appreciate this."

"Will do." Jimbo gave her a nod and a small smile and left.

She closed the door softly, careful not to disturb Fenn, and set the tray down on the small table beside her chair. As she inhaled the comforting scents of the tea and cookies, she closed her eyes and offered up a silent prayer of thanks.

Fenn continued to sleep peacefully. She took the opportunity to look her fill, marveling at how young and vulnerable he looked without his usual mischievous energy and constant vigilance. It was a side of him she'd never seen before, and it made her wonder about the burdens he carried beneath his carefree exterior.

She'd always assumed that his aversion to serious conversation and deep emotions was simply a part of his personality, but now she began to suspect that there might be more to it. Perhaps his lighthearted demeanor was a way of shouldering his friends' burdens, of easing their troubles even as he kept his own carefully hidden.

The thought made her heart ache in a way she hadn't expected, and she found herself reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead before she could stop herself. The gesture felt intimate, almost too intimate, and she quickly pulled her hand back, her cheeks flushing.

Shaking her head, she tried to drag her tired mind back to the task at hand. As much as she hated the idea, it was time to call in the team, to confess her sins and face the consequences. She couldn't keep this secret any longer, not when it put Fenn and the others at risk.

Not everyone would be as forgiving as Fenn. She had to be prepared that her revelation would change things between them all. It was unavoidable, a necessary evil. But the alternative—the thought of Fenn getting hurt again because of her hesitation—was unthinkable.

With a sigh, she reached for her tea, taking a sip of the warm, fragrant liquid. She nibbled on a cookie, the sweet, buttery flavor a momentary distraction from the thoughts swirling in her head.

Outside, the wind shrieked.

Trouble was coming.