Save Your Breath (Morgan Dane #6)(92)

“Morgan, I’ll leave you to serve.” Mac took off the apron he’d been wearing. “Stella will be home any minute.” Mac ladled soup into a glass container and secured the lid. “I’m going home to have dinner with my girl.”

“Thank you for everything, Mac.” Morgan hugged him.

“Bye, Uncle Mac!” the girls shouted in unison.

“Wait till Stella and I have kids. There’ll be plenty of time for payback.” He kissed the girls and left.

Were Mac and Stella thinking about kids? They hadn’t even mentioned getting married. Her sister didn’t seem to be in a rush, but maybe Mac was trying to convince her.

Morgan put the thought aside and enjoyed dinner with her family. Afterward, the girls cleared the bowls, and Lance volunteered to do dishes. When Gianna protested, he shook his head. “You’re on light duty for a while. Enjoy it.”

Gianna sank back into her chair.

Morgan took advantage of the quiet. She cleared her throat. “So we decided to postpone the wedding.”

“Why?” Gianna’s voice rose.

Drying his hands on a dish towel, Lance crossed the room and stood next to Morgan’s stool. They’d agreed to present a united front. Even though Olivia had been found, she was still severely traumatized, and Gianna was in rough physical shape. “We thought it would be better to wait until things settle down.”

“No!” the girls shouted.

Sophie broke into tears. “Aren’t you and Wance gonna get mawwied?” The speech impediment she’d outgrown months ago made a sudden reappearance. “I want Wance to be my daddy.”

“We’re still going to get married,” Lance said. “We just might wait a little while.”

“I don’t see how we can pull a wedding together in a week and a half,” Morgan began. “I haven’t even thought about it. There are about twenty details I’ve let go. Olivia is still in the hospital—”

Gianna cut her off. “She’ll be out in a day or so.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to put it off until you’re feeling better?” Morgan asked.

“Absolutely not!” Gianna slid off her stool. “Where’s my bag?” She found her backpack and brought it to the island. After pulling out her computer, she opened it. “Everything is done. I called the caterer from the hospital and gave them the final head count.”

“You worked on the wedding planning from your hospital bed?” Morgan leaned back, overwhelmed.

“Yep.” Gianna tilted her head. “It was better than staring at the ceiling. I’m all right, Morgan.” She gestured to her chest. “This is just a minor setback. I’m still ten times healthier than when I moved in with you. This disease is my reality, but I won’t let it keep me from living. And that includes going to your wedding.”

The girls surrounded Morgan’s chair.

“You hafta mawwy Wance.” Sophie’s eyes welled with tears.

Ava and Mia nodded.

Morgan and Lance shared a glance. He shrugged. “I want to marry you, and seriously, our lives will always be filled with chaos. If we wait for a quiet moment, it might never happen.”

“I still have the final fitting for my dress.” Morgan reached for her phone to check her calendar.

“It’s on Friday, and you look like you’ve lost weight.” Gianna frowned.

Grandpa passed Morgan the bread basket. “Use butter.”

Warmth filled Morgan. “If you’re sure it won’t be a hardship . . .”

“Since you’ve put me on light duty, I’ll definitely have time to review the final details.” Gianna motioned to her laptop.

“OK, then. I guess we’re getting married next week.” Morgan smiled, joy filling her heart. Lance was right. Chaos was their hobby. Their lives were never going to be settled. But that was OK. She loved the chaos of family life.

The girls cheered and rushed to Lance for hugs. The rest of the evening was blissfully quiet. Morgan and Lance went to bed right after the kids and slept for ten straight hours.





Chapter Forty-Eight JOHN H ROGERS

CAPT

US ARMY





IRAQ


NOV 14, 1982

JUL 10, 2015





BELOVED HUSBAND AND FATHER


Well, this is awkward.

A week later, Lance stared at the tombstone of Morgan’s late husband.

Ava and Mia had wanted to visit their father and show him the dresses Morgan had bought them for the wedding. They wore matching blue dresses, shiny black shoes, and mini peacoats. Sophie had dressed in her zombie costume and yellow ladybug rain boots.

Morgan was busy with last-minute wedding preparations. Mac was grading papers, and Stella was tied up with the FBI. During the past week, the bodies of all five of Cliff Franklin’s additional victims had been found. But for Lance, the case was over. Since all he had to do on Saturday was put on his suit and show up on time, he’d volunteered to escort the girls to the cemetery.

Ava was the only one of the three girls who remembered their father. She faced the headstone and smoothed the blue fabric of her poofy dress. “Mommy let me pick the color.”

Mia stood next to her sister, but her attention was on Sophie, who twirled in a circle a few feet away. Her zombie costume was getting more ragged by the day. But she was happy. Mia moved off to spin in circles with her little sister.