The Danger Within

by Valerie Hansen

  Gabriel chuckled pleasantly as he greeted Layla and surveyed his family. “Pleased to meet you, Doctor. As you can see, I am truly blessed. I thought Susan and the girls had completed my family till our Elijah came along. Life just keeps getting better and better.”

  “The twins are beautiful,” Layla said. Their warm, chocolate-colored complexions made them almost glow, and the pretty girls looked adorable in their velvet dresses. The African-American family stood closest to the door, welcoming everyone to Good Shepherd. Hopefully, she had hidden her initial surprise at meeting the tall, handsome pastor.

  Michael shepherded Layla into the sanctuary, leaving Gabriel to continue to greet the steady stream of arrivals.

  She was amazed at the warmth and acceptance, even affection, she sensed all around her. This was a special place, just as Michael had claimed.

  Holly spied them from a distance and hurried over. “I don’t believe it!” She grasped Layla’s hand. “Welcome! Wait till Mom hears.”

  “I’m glad to see you again, too,” Layla said. “Speaking of Marilyn, where is she?”

  Holly sobered. “Not here yet. She stopped at the hospital to see Uncle Max and visit with Aunt Lidia.”

  “Has there been any change?” Michael asked.

  “No,” Holly said sadly. “It’s awful. Poor Aunt Lidia. She just sits there by Max all day and half the night, praying he’ll wake up and be okay.”

  “I don’t know either of them but I am sorry about their troubles,” Layla said. “I heard the mayor was shot some time ago. Do the police have any leads?”

  “Beats me.” Holly shrugged and made a grim face. “Brendan won’t talk. Neither will Sam. And forget worming anything out of my Jake. Even if he was in a position to hear something, he’s too wrapped up in technical jargon to pay attention. My only hope is getting Becca Hilliard to blab. Because she works with Sam, chances are slim and none.” Holly brightened. “Which reminds me. Becca was supposed to help in the nursery tonight. She had to work so she called me to sub for her.” Cupping her hand to speak aside to Layla, she added, “Becca always says she doesn’t want any kids of her own, probably because she already raised her siblings.”

  Layla giggled. “I’d like children a lot better if they had four legs and fur and wagged their tails.”

  “You two.” Holly rolled her eyes at her brother. “You’re so alike it’s scary.”

  Watching the young woman flounce away, Layla shook her head. “Boy, is she wrong.”

  “Oh? You think so?”

  “I know so. Look at us,” Layla said. “You’re as conventional as can be. You have a great family, lots of friends, a church you call home in spite of the distance you have to drive to get here, a ranch that’s been in your family for generations and a plan for the future. I, on the other hand, have none of those things.”

  “Sure you do. Or you could have.”

  “Oh?” Layla waggled her eyebrows and shot him a look of disbelief. “My family is spread all over the country and sees no reason to gather for any reason. I haven’t been to church since I was a teen. I didn’t fit in the cliques then and I still don’t. I have no home except my truck, which is now wrecked. And my only plans for the future are to get it repaired so I can hit the road again. What in the world do you and I have in common?”

  “A love of animals and nature, for starters,” he said. “And we’re both intelligent. We live by a strong moral code, even when it’s not easy, because of our mutual beliefs.”

  “That’s hardly enough reason to decide we’re alike,” Layla argued.

  Michael gazed deeply into her eyes as if he was willing her to hear more than his words.

  She wanted to look away, to distance herself both physically and emotionally, yet she couldn’t force herself to do it. The way Michael was staring at her made her feel as if she were the most loved, most desirable woman in the world.

  He gently grasped her fingers and drew her aside. “Listen, Doc. I don’t understand what’s happening between us any more than I can tell you what’s going on with Max and the others. One thing I do know. I aim to do everything in my power to look after you.”

  Touched, Layla turned to sarcasm rather than allow herself to take his vow seriously. “Oh? Then how about leveling with me? What else did Sam say when he shooed me out of the kitchen so you two could talk?”

  “It’s complicated,” Michael said. “Let’s go find a seat for the service and try to enjoy ourselves.”

  “You’ll tell me later?” She didn’t like his guarded expression so she rephrased with added emphasis. “Let me put it this way, Mr. Vance. You will tell me later.”

  “You are one stubborn lady, you know that?”

  “Yup. Looks like that’s one more thing you and I have in common. We’re both as hardheaded as one of those old muley cows of yours.”

  “Worse,” Michael countered. “The cows don’t hardly have the sense to come in out of the rain. You and I are supposed to be a lot smarter than that.”

  “Meaning we aren’t?”

  He was shaking his head slowly, thoughtfully. “Maybe I’m not. If I tell you what I suspect is going on, it may be the dumbest move I’ve ever made.”

  “Why? Because you’re afraid I’ll run away from trouble?”

  “No,” Michael said flatly. “Because I’m afraid you won’t.”

  It surprised Layla to see Pastor Dawson still clad in his black turtleneck, slacks and tweed sport jacket instead of a black robe as he strode to the front of the sanctuary to lead the opening prayer.

  Although she bowed her head with the others, she kept one eye open enough to peer through her lashes at Michael. He was surreptitiously eyeing her the same way!

  She tried harder to concentrate on the pastor’s words while an unspoken prayer of her own shot heavenward. Thankfully, “Amen” followed quickly and she was free to raise an eyebrow at her companion.

  “What?” Michael whispered.

  Layla shook her head and stifled a smile as they settled into the pew, side by side. “This church is a lot more casual than I’d anticipated.”

  “That’s because it’s the evening service,” Michael explained. “On Sunday mornings we’re probably every bit as stuffy as you figured we’d be.”

  “I’d call that formal, not stuffy. In a fancy building like this, I just assumed the service would be…I don’t know—more ceremonial?”

  “We come here to learn and to praise the Lord.” Michael reached for her hand and laced his fingers with hers. “To me, that means any genuine effort is acceptable, with or without formalities.”

  “You were right about these people being friendly.” Layla kept her voice down even though all that was coming from the pulpit at that moment were announcements of upcoming events. “I’ve lost count of all the ones who’ve smiled at me and told me they were glad I was here.”

  “You can add me to that list.”

  “Thanks. I’m glad I came, too.”

  “Feels like home, doesn’t it?” Michael asked.

  Layla’s head snapped around. “What makes you say that?”

  “Because that’s exactly how I feel.”

  “Doesn’t mean I do,” Layla countered.

  Despite her quick denial, however, she did feel at peace here. It was an odd sensation, one she couldn’t recall ever having had in a church before today. Of course, she’d never sat in a pew with Michael Vance holding her hand, either. The times she’d attended services with her parents she’d naturally stayed close to them. Later, when her father had decided he didn’t care for the church her mother had chosen, they’d simply quit worshipping anywhere.

  At that time, Layla had missed church so much she’d trotted off to a nearby Sunday School alone, only to discover that the teens in her age group enjoyed an even more tightly knit social order than their pious parents did.

  All in all, Layla had felt totally rejected by everyone except God. It was His love that had saved her, in more ways than one, and it was
His love that continued to sustain her.

  She squeezed Michael’s fingers. “All right. I admit it. This place is special.”

  His expression softened, grew empathetic. He smiled so tenderly Layla wondered if the mere sight of his unabashed joy was going to make her cry.

  Fighting to subdue her emotions, she tilted up her chin, stiffened her spine and forced herself to concentrate on Reverend Dawson’s words. That would have been a lot easier if her fingers had not remained entwined with Michael’s.

  “We are blessed,” Gabriel Dawson said. “Let’s not forget that with that blessing comes responsibility. Tonight I want to refer to Hebrews twelve, verses fourteen and fifteen. ‘Pursue peace with all people, and holiness, without which no one will see the Lord; looking carefully lest anyone fall short of the grace of God, lest any root of bitterness springing up cause trouble; and by this many be defiled.’”

  Reverend Dawson paused to gaze fondly over his congregation. “I know it sounds like I’m preaching to the choir, as they say, but sometimes we need to be reminded of how strongly our actions can affect another person’s walk with God.”

  Layla felt as if he were speaking directly to her.

  “Are you busy?” the pastor went on. “Harried? Too engrossed in daily life to be bothered with other people’s problems? It’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking that way, to put off doing what your heart tells you to. After all, our time is valuable, isn’t it?”

  He again scanned the assembled worshippers. “Well, you’re right. Your time is precious. Every breath is God given. That’s why we owe it to Him to put our lives to good use.” His grin widened and lit up his face. “Who’s going to be the biggest loser if we’re so busy tending to our own business that we can’t spare a few minutes to help others? How hard is it to smile, to offer assistance, to encourage a brother or sister who may be feeling down?”

  Layla felt Michael’s grip tighten momentarily and she glanced at him through lowered lashes. Was that what he was doing? Was he being nice to her because he knew he was expected to? Or did he actually like her for herself? She supposed it could be both. He was probably a kind person with or without his profession of faith.

  Yet she did sense something more between them. It was as if an invisible bond had existed from the moment she and Michael had met. All along, she’d been assuming that sense of affinity was due to their mutual love of animals. Now, she had to admit there might be a deeper connection. Was Michael feeling it, too, she wondered, or was her overactive imagination influencing her unduly?

  Reverend Dawson continued, “The sad part is, we can go out these doors and into the community, truly intent on making a difference for good, and still miss the point. Love starts at home.” He spread his arms wide. “And right here.”

  Again, he smiled and looked around the sanctuary, reminding Layla of a benevolent father appreciating his many diverse children.

  “I think what the writer to the Hebrews was saying is that every pat on the back we fail to give is a missed opportunity to demonstrate God’s love, through us. Every person for whom we have no time, is another soul who may go astray simply because we were too busy to show we cared.”

  Layla’s mind wandered as he concluded his short sermon. Could her sense of being an outsider be rooted in her own resentment? Was that what was keeping her from truly belonging anywhere? Instead of her lifestyle and clothing being an expression of her inner self, was she using those differences to stay set apart, to make sure she never let anyone get close enough to hurt her again?

  The congregation stood for a closing hymn. Beside her, Michael sang from his heart. The timbre of his voice filled her senses and tickled the fine hairs at her nape while the hall swelled with praise.

  A frisson of anticipation and awe skittered through her. Was this what she’d been missing? Had her innermost heart been trying to tell her all along?

  It’s just a feeling, Layla argued. I’ve always been too easily influenced by my emotions. I can’t rely on that.

  No, she reasoned, she couldn’t. But she could speak to Reverend Dawson and ask him a few questions about it later. A simple hymn of praise had never before left goose bumps on her arms or filled her heart with such joy. These people were set apart, for whatever reason, and she wanted to know how to join in their celebration of life.

  Gabriel Dawson called for a closing prayer. It included pleas for those who were sick or had other problems, as well as thanks for previous solutions.

  Layla was confused. This group of Christians had just sung as if their hearts and souls were in perfect heavenly agreement, yet now they were listing problem after problem and loss after loss, including Max Vance’s continuing coma. How could they be happy in spite of all these shared woes?

  The answer came to her in a memorized verse so vivid it might have been spoken from the pulpit. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not unto your own understanding.”

  Layla frowned. That was what she’d been doing, wasn’t it? She peeked over at Michael. This time, his head was bowed, his eyes fully closed.

  Her heart swelled. Her pulse sped. Every sense was heightened. Every instinct insisted she must embrace him.

  She resisted, of course. The last thing the poor man needed was to add embarrassment to his already substantial burdens. Besides, she was probably feeling especially loving only because of the pastor’s sermon.

  The final “Amen” came and Michael looked up at her without speaking. Layla could tell he’d been moved by the closing prayer and she remained quiet to give him time to compose himself.

  Others did not seem as aware of his mood. They gathered around to meet Layla before leaving the church, jabbering and offering hugs and handshakes as if she were a long-lost sister.

  She responded as best she could while Michael made introductions. Finally, he placed his hand at the small of her back and guided her toward a side door instead of the center aisle.

  “Let’s go this way,” he said. “It’s less crowded.”

  “Suits me. Whew! When they hear a sermon about being friendly, they sure take it to heart.”

  “Told you so. It doesn’t take one of Gabriel’s pep talks to motivate most of them, though.”

  “I noticed that the minute we walked in the door.” Layla smiled at him. “Did you forget, or do you just want to hear me say it again?”

  “Say what?”

  She could tell from the mischievous twinkle in his dark eyes that he was teasing. “That you were right.”

  “It is music to my ears,” Michael quipped. They rounded a corner together and he stopped abruptly. “There’s Sam. Wait here, will you? I need to clear something with him. I’ll be right back.”

  “You mean the deep, dark secrets you promised to tell me?”

  “Yes. I don’t want to do or say anything that might jeopardize any police investigations. Getting the bad guys and locking them up where they can’t do any more damage is the most important thing.”

  Layla placed her hand on his arm to momentarily delay him. “I’d much rather know up front who my enemies are.”

  Sighing and nodding, Michael patted her hand. “Yeah. Me, too. That’s why I still intend to teach you how to properly handle a gun.”

  “I told you, I don’t need that kind of protection.”

  “You also told me you weren’t worried about driving home alone on an icy mountain road, and look what that got you. Not to mention the snake in the bathroom.”

  Layla made a face. “Don’t remind me.”

  “Somebody better,” Michael countered. “What good is it to know who your enemies are if you can’t defend yourself against them?”

  “I thought we were supposed to trust the Lord for our protection.”

  “I trust Him to have provided the means for me to take care of myself and my family,” he said. “If I sit back and don’t lift a finger, it’s like the foolish servant who buried the coins he was given in the ground rather than put them to work. It�
��s my responsibility to use what I have to take care of those I care about.”

  His words dived deep into Layla’s heart and echoed there. Was he saying he had romantic feelings for her or was he simply using that term to express concern? It could be either.

  She opened her mouth, intending to ask Michael to clarify, then changed her mind. She didn’t want to know how he felt about her because it might force her to reconsider her own feelings for him. They were considerable…and confusing. Admiration likely topped the list but that sentiment was all mixed up with tenderness and friendship and camaraderie and who knows what else.

  Could she be falling in love with him? Layla wondered. Maybe. No, probably. She swallowed past the dry, cottony lump in her throat with great effort. There should have been doubts, excuses, yet none surfaced.

  Michael’s hand still lay atop hers where she’d grasped his arm. His touch was warm, his calloused hand proof of his hardworking lifestyle. She raised her eyes to meet his and imagined she saw a reflection of the feelings he’d mentioned. Just as she was about to deny its existence, Michael closed his fingers around hers and gave them a gentle squeeze.

  “Wait here,” he said softly. “I’ll be right back.”

  Watching him hail Sam and hurry toward him, Layla was struck by the reality of her emotional attachment. She didn’t want to be away from Michael. Not for one second. The urge to run to catch up to him was so strong she was nearly overcome by it.

  Shuffling her feet, she forced herself to wait and watch. She couldn’t hear what was being said but Michael was gesturing and Sam was shaking his head. That was not a good sign. Neither was the slump of Michael’s broad shoulders.

  As he turned and started back to her, Layla could tell she wasn’t going to learn much more than she already knew.

  “He told you to keep me in the dark, didn’t he?” she asked as soon as Michael rejoined her.

  “Not exactly. He did warn me not to jump to the wrong conclusions, though.”

  “Which were?”

  Michael gave her a lopsided smile. “Even if I told you, you’d still be as mystified as I am.”

  “That wouldn’t be hard. I’m already pretty confused.” She made a silly face. “I don’t have the kind of mind that can take clues and puzzle them out. I love to read mystery stories or watch movies like that, but I’m always the last one to figure them out.”