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truly control them and helpless to assuage herself. It was the reason that going to Florida was such a daunting idea for her. If her hopes were once again deflated…
    “Sleep on it,” Brianne said softly to herself. “And pray on it. When you wake up, you’ll know what to do.”
    She settled in her bed with the rough draft of the novel her sister had just finished. Brianne always read Shayna’s books to give her input before she submitted them to her editor. But despite her sister’s compelling writing, Brianne simply couldn’t lose herself in the fictional historical world.
    I think you were right all along. I think Carter’s alive.
    Instead of concentrating on the words her sister had written, Brianne kept hearing Alex’s words. Kept seeing the serious look on his face. And something suddenly struck her about the visit, something that she hadn’t picked up on before.
    Alex had relayed the news about Carter likely being alive, but he hadn’t seemed happy. He hadn’t seemed excited about the idea of reconnecting with his best friend.
    The realization made her feel better. Because she herself wasn’t jumping up and down for joy—something she’d always expected she would do if she’d ever learned that Carter was alive.
    Maybe it was all just too surreal to truly accept, given that three years had passed. And they really didn’t know for sure. What point was there in getting all excited, only to learn that this was all a mistake?
    Of course both she and Alex were guarded. It onlymade sense that they keep an emotional guard up until they learned the truth.
    “Lord, help me deal with this,” Brianne whispered. “If Carter’s alive, help me truly deal with all of what’s to come.”
    You could want something so badly, yet when it happened you were unprepared for it.
    Brianne lowered the manuscript pages. That was also it, she realized. Not just the uncertainty of not knowing if Alex was right about having seen Carter, but the reality that she was unprepared for the unexpected news Alex had delivered—no matter how much she had wished for it. In the early months or even after the first year, had Alex told her that he suspected Carter was alive, she would have been elated. Now, with the amount of time that had passed, there was so much to consider in the event that Carter had somehow escaped death. Because she was not foolish enough to believe that she was just going to pick up the pieces with him and everything would easily go back to the way it was.
    She looked at her bedside phone, then at the card Alex had given her that rested on the table beside the phone. She wanted to call Alex now, to confide in him her fears. To talk candidly about the ambiguity she was feeling. She sensed that Alex would tell her that he had his own reservations about how all of this would play out.
    Of course, it was different for him. He had been Carter’s friend. That was different than being a lover. He could easily pick up and continue as Carter’s friend in a way she wasn’t sure she would be able to easily continue on as the special woman in his life.
    She picked up the card, stared at the phone number. And then she lifted the receiver.
    But just as quickly she returned the receiver to its cradle.What was she going to say to him? Ask him all the same questions she had asked him earlier?
    There was a part of her that simply wanted to hear his voice, to know that today hadn’t been a dream. But it was after nine. She didn’t want to disturb Alex.
    After all, what if he weren’t alone?
    An odd twinge came with the thought. In all the time she’d known him, she hadn’t known him to have a serious girlfriend. Carter had said that Alex was the consummate playboy. Gorgeous. Rich. He could have his pick of women, and, from what Carter had said, tended to like models.
    Brianne was the exact opposite of his type. She was five-foot-five and voluptuous, with curves she had to work to keep in a nice proportion. Not tall and