Tears welled in her eyes. “John…” Her voice caught, and she stopped.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, past the railing, and tightened the rein on his emotions. “Sharee, you’re going to be okay. The pain medication should kick in soon. ”
“I know, but that’s not the problem. I need to tell you something.” She tried to straighten in the bed and winced.
“Stay still. Give it a few more minutes.”
“John.”
He leaned closer. “What?”
“I need to tell you—”
A noise came from the doorway. Her parents walked into the room. Frustration filled him. Well, he couldn’t have expected them to stay away much longer. He stood and started to move away, but Sharee’s hand tightened. He caught the anxious request in her eyes.
“Oh, Sharee!” Her mother’s high voice broke the quiet. She stepped next to the bed with a flourish. “You’ve finally got your own room. I don’t know why it took so long.”
“I’m sure they did the best they could, Mom.” Sharee’s voice rose, too.
“John was supposed to tell us.” Her look grazed him. “I guess he forgot.” He started to say something, but her mother continued. “How in the world did you get run over? Weren’t you looking?”
“I don’t know, Mom. I’m sorry.”
John shot her a look of surprise. What was she apologizing for? She didn’t need a guilt trip. Good thing he’d won the battle on who stayed the night.
“Your father and I prayed all the way here.” Her mother’s voice rose again. “Tell us what the problem is, and why they had to do so many tests.”
John’s gaze met her father’s. Hmm. The man was quiet in face of his wife’s over-concern, but she had given way when he’d intervened downstairs. What had he missed during his short visit at Christmas?
“The doctor said I have a herniated disc and a concussion.”
Her mother leaned over the railing. “Really? Then you’ll need good care.” Her eyes focused on John, and she pulled herself up to her full height.
All five-feet-two inches, John guessed. He’d seen Sharee take that same defiant stance. He worked to contain his amusement.
Mrs. Jones cleared her throat. “Of course, John acts like you need a guard or something.”
A guard was exactly what she needed, and what he planned to be. He glanced down in time to catch the smile that Sharee tried to hide. That’s better. Don’t let her intimidate you.
“I don’t think this is funny.” Mrs. Jones’ voice mounted.
“I know, Mom. It isn’t.”
“And why didn’t you call us? You called John.”
“Marilyn,” her husband interrupted.
She glanced his way. “Well, I can’t believe Sharee would rather have John stay the night than her own mother.”
Back to that, are we? John’s glance went from her mom to her dad. He noticed the humor in Brian’s eyes. Ah. So that’s how he handled it.
“And I can’t believe you got engaged without telling us!”
Sharee’s eyes widened. “What?”
”Yes, we know all about it. John told us.”
Sharee raised hazel eyes to his. “Engaged?”
“Yes.” Her mother made the word two syllables. “Don’t try to pretend. How long has it been?”
Sharee’s stare filled the space between them. He felt embarrassed under her scrutiny, but he shrugged. He’d done what he thought he needed to do, even if…. Well, better finish it.
“I’m sorry, babe. I told them about the engagement because your mother seemed concerned with me staying the night. I thought it would make her feel better.”
Her eyes were still big. He’d given her the information she needed, but he understood her look. I’m the one who makes such a thing of the truth. After a moment, though, she managed a smile and turned back at her mom.
“Well, we haven’t announced it yet.”
“But we’re your parents.” Her mother’s voice arched. “Why didn’t you tell us? I mean…to have John tell us. At the hospital.”
“It’s not official.”
“What do you mean, ‘not official’? Has he asked you or not?”
Sharee glanced his way. He raised a brow. Oh, he’d asked her, all right. Something sharp jabbed his chest, and he strove to keep his face blank.
Sharee tightened her fingers on his and turned to her mom. “It’s not official.” She lifted her left hand. “See. No ring yet.”
Her mother’s eyes rounded, and her father’s mouth lifted. He winked at John.
Now what?
“No…ring…yet.” Each word hit in time with a nod. Mrs. Jones gaze locked onto his. “I guess you are embarrassed to say you’re engaged when you haven’t given my daughter a ring. In fact, I don’t know if there’s an engagement without a ring. Do you have any idea when there will be a ring?”
He leaned back on his crutches and, for a minute, had no answer.
Sharee squeezed his hand again, and he glanced down. Her face held a mischievous expression, and she stifled a giggle. With one short sentence, she’d turned her mother’s attentions—and guilt—from herself to him. He narrowed his eyes as she bit her lip and tried to stop her grin. His head lifted.
“Actually, I had planned…” He stopped. No. If either of them thought he’d take this load guilt, they needed to do some rethinking. He cleared his throat. “Your daughter will have a ring in plenty of time for the wedding.”
“In plenty of time? What does that mean?” Indignation flooded her mother’s face.
Brian stepped forward. “I’m sure John’s capable of furnishing a ring.” His eyes, amused still, focused on John and then on his daughter. “Sharee, did you get some pain medication?”
“Yes.”
“Good. You’ll be able to sleep then. We’ll drive to your place and try to get some sleep, too; but we’ll be back this afternoon. Even though John told us what happened, we’d like to hear it from you.” He turned to John. “You must be tired. You’ve been up all night, also.”
“I’m fine.”
“Okay. Marilyn?” He slipped his hand under her arm. She smiled at him, a warm smile that touched her eyes and changed her face.
John watched, surprised. What a difference.
As they turned to go, Mrs. Jones said, “We’ll be back, Sharee. I hope you get some rest. And your…fiancé…too.” The word seemed more of an insult than otherwise. She flashed him a sugar-sweet smile and went out the door.
Sharee began to laugh. John raised a brow. Both the women had more ups and downs than a basketball tournament. He dropped her hand, stepped back and crossed his arms.
“Well,” she said, “who would have thought you would lie like that? You. Of all people.”
“I lied for a good reason.” He saw her expression. “All right, that’s an excuse, but don’t try to play innocent. You threw me to the lions—or lioness, as the case may be.”
“That did work well, didn’t it? But it wasn’t intentional.”
“Girl, you knew exactly what you were doing with that ‘no ring yet’ routine. Your dad knew, too.”
“Not really. But she loves things done properly. As soon as the words were out, I knew she’d take offense.”
“Exactly.”
“Well, what else could I say?” Her brows arched in an imitation of his. “You were no help.”
Her tone and her look did something inside his chest. His eyes searched hers. Was the medicine making her high or—
”And you survived,” Sharee said. “Besides, she wasn’t that bad.”
“She wasn’t? You mean she’s—” He stopped himself. Don’t criticize the girl’s mother if you want to win her back.
“I backed you up, too. Pretty quick thinking, don’t you agree?” Again the impish look. She reached past the railing for him.
He ignored her hand, turned and set his crutches against the wall. What was going on? She’d declined his marriage proposal. Did she e
xpect him to laugh and tease about things as she was doing? When he turned back, her look caught him off guard. He stood still.
“John?”
“Yes?”
“I will take you up on your other offer, though.”
“What offer?”
“This room?” A man’s voice floated in from the hall.
Sharee’s head jerked around. She flinched and groaned. Her hand rose to her head.
The man outside said something else and the next minute halted in the doorway. Silence followed. John glanced from the man back to Sharee. Her eyes opened, and the color drained from her face.
***
As the man moved forward, Sharee’s heart faltered. He looked the same. Just as handsome. Just as confident. The dark suit, tie, and white shirt he wore suited him. He’d unhooked the shirt’s top button and loosened the tie.
He stopped beside her bed. “Hello, Sharee.”
“Hello, Dean.” She kept her voice level.
The man’s head lifted, and he studied John before introducing himself. “Dean Strasburg. I’m a friend of Sharee’s.” He looked back down at her without waiting for a reply. “I saw your parents pull out of the parking lot and decided you must be here. I’m on business, but I thought I’d check. Everything okay?”
“Yes. I’m fine.”
“Your standard answer. You must be here for a reason.”
Why had he come? Over two years had passed. Lord, help me. “Someone ran me down.”
“Really? That’s a surprise.” He paused fractionally. “Well, maybe not. You do have a way of ruffling people’s feathers.”
John stepped closer to the bed. He rested his hand on her shoulder. A wave of relief slid over her. She didn’t have to face Dean alone.
“You’re here on business?”
“Yes. The medical supply business is still lucrative.” He glanced again at John. “I’m sorry. You’re...?”
“John Jergenson. Also, a friend.”
Dean’s gaze held John’s before he gave a brief nod. He dropped his head. “So, are you okay?”
Sharee sat straighter in the bed. “A herniated disc and concussion, but I’ll heal.”
“You really did get knocked down?” Dean’s voice carried an edge of sarcasm. “No doubt you have him locked away by now.”
“The police have no idea who did it. If someone tries to kill you, they don’t leave a business card.”
“Tries to kill you?” His voice resonated disbelief. “Sounds like you’re overreacting. Again.”
John shifted beside her. “Look, I don’t know—” Sharee touched his fingers on her shoulder and squeezed. He stopped.
“I only go to the police when needed.”
Dean’s face darkened. He slipped his hands into his pockets, raised his head and stared at John. When he dropped his gaze again, Sharee’s heart jolted. The hostility surprised her.
“You seem well supported here. I’ll give you a call in a few days to see how you’re doing.”
Before she could answer, he whirled and walked from the room.
Tension drained from her like flowing oil. Lord, how can he still rattle me like that?
“Are you okay?” John’s voice sounded harsh.
She dipped her head. “Yes.”
“Was he trying to upset you or is annoying just part of his character?”
She gave an awkward smile. “Both. And to think I almost married him.” She moved and repositioned herself. Dean had baited her, mocked her, and kept her off-balance with his demands and compliments. It had taken time to understand his need to manipulate and control.
“That was your former fiancé?” John’s tone was neutral.
Her gaze rose to meet his, but his look told her nothing. She nodded and quiet settled between them. What was he thinking? Feeling? She shifted position. The pain in her head had increased instead of dissipating, and the bed’s softness wrestled with her back’s need for something firm. Tiredness swept over her.
“Sharee, the first time I saw you…” The words trailed off.
“I remember.”
She did, indeed. Two years before, she’d come from a final, volatile meeting with Dean, and had needed a place to cry and to pray. She drove to the church, walked across the field, and dropped down at the edge of the pond.
She’d cried and let out the pain and confusion. How had she missed God’s leading? Had she wanted a relationship so much that she’d ignored His voice?
John had stepped from behind a small stand of trees nearby. In her grief and emotional upheaval, she hadn’t seen him. He introduced himself, ignoring her red eyes and obvious discomfort. Then somewhere in the midst of his soft, deep voice explaining how Pastor Alan had hired him to do maintenance around the church, she’d relaxed. The whole congregation knew that the pastor had hired someone to take the work off their shoulders. John’s gentleness that day had calmed her.
“I remember, but it took two years for you to talk to me again.”
He picked up his crutches and slipped them under his arms. “That went both ways, I think.”
It had. They’d both had tragedies in their lives that needed dealing with first.
He hesitated. “We’ve never discussed why you were crying that day.”
Sharee tightened her grip on the sheets. Only her parents and Marci knew the extent of all that happened. “Yes, it was Dean; but I don’t want to talk about it now.”
“All right.” The neutral tone again. Distant.
Was she shutting him out? He’d assume that. “I…I had a restraining order against him.”
“A restraining order?” The notch in his voice didn’t surprise her. “What for?”
She waved her hand, trying to dismiss it; and silence dropped over them. Of course, he had questions. “Can we talk about it later? My head’s hurting. I’m beat.”
He gave a kind of grunt that told her nothing, but dealing with the situation right now was more than she could do. Her head felt like it had cracked it open. She leaned back against the pillow. No help. She turned to the side, away from him. Not because she wanted to, but because her head felt better that way. She closed her eyes. Sounds came that told her he was settling into the chair nearby.
Thank you, Lord.
Memories flooded her. The startling thing was the number of people who disapproved of the restraining order. “He’s such a nice guy,” one woman said. “How could you do that?” Others said, “Give him another chance.” But a few women--and some men--had stepped forward to stiffen her resolve. “If he doesn’t get counseling, don’t go back to him. He’ll plead and make promises, but unless he gets help, he’ll never change.”
When she’d suggested counseling, Dean had refused. She’d obtained the restraining order only after his repeated phone calls and repeated appearances at her work and church.
Don’t think about it, Sharee. It’s over, done with. Go to sleep.
***
John watched as scrunched her pillow and tugged the sheet higher. He stood up, closed the blinds, and flipped off the lights. When he sat back in the chair next to the wall, his eyes never left her. The fire started inside again and spread from his gut upward.
A restraining order? Why had she needed a restraining order?
The man’s visit had upset her, but she didn’t want to share why or the reason for the restraining order. The cut from that came on top of her other rejection. His hands tightened on the chair’s arms.
Maybe she had all she could deal with today. An accident, a herniated disc, a concussion. She didn’t need him pushing. He’d backburner his questions—and his feelings—until later.
Chapter 4
“Asleep?” Someone barked.
John jumped. His eyes flew open and confusion swirled around him.
“Is this the way you watch after a patient?”
He jerked his head toward the door. Bruce Tomlin grinned at him from his wheelchair. John darted a glance at Sharee. She hadn’t stirred.
<
br /> Bruce rolled into the room. “Boy, when I was in the hospital, I had better care than this.”
John yawned then grinned and stood up. The two men shook hands. Behind Bruce stood China Summers. John made an effort not to show surprise. Were she and Sharee close enough to warrant a visit at the hospital?
“Hi, John,” China’s soft voice had a musical lilt. She held his eyes for a moment before focusing on Sharee. “Hope we didn’t wake her.”
“No, I think the medication knocked her out. She’s been asleep for a while.” He moved his arm to see his watch. “As I have. You came together?”
“No chance.” Bruce shook his head. “We met downstairs. I don’t know why, but no one wants to ride with me.”
“Probably because you drive like the devil and twice as fast, and no one knows how you stop that thing.”
Bruce’s eyes lit with his smile. “The marvels of a specially rigged van.” He moved his wheelchair forward. “How’s the patient? And what is it with you two? Two accidents in a week? Are you so in love, hombre, that you can’t watch where you’re going?”
“I take credit for only one and that...” His eyes drifted to China. No, he’d wait until later to share with Bruce what had happened. He respected his friend’s advice, but he’d wait until they were alone.
China stepped farther into the room. “Is she okay?”
John gave them both a brief rundown of her injuries.
China pulled her long straight hair over one shoulder. “Pastor Alan told me you’d be staying here until Sharee gets out. ‘Setting up camp’ is what he said. So I thought I’d come by and offer my assistance.” She glanced towards the bed. “Since you’ll be taking care of the patient, I thought maybe I could feed Cooper for you and walk him.”
John’s eyes opened. An answer to prayer? He’d given some thought to his black Lab earlier. The dog had plenty of water, but his stomach must be keeping him awake about now.
“Thanks. I was wondering about getting over to the condo to feed him.”
“When it’s possible for you to get away for a short time, I could meet you there. Just show me where his food is, and where you walk him; and I could do that for you while you need it. If you don’t mind giving me a key?”
As Long As You Both Shall Live: A Christian Contemporary Romance with Suspense (Dangerous Series Book 2) Page 5