He tucked the “Work for food” sign under his arm and climbed into the passenger seat.
“I can take you to my church.” Sharee rolled the window down as his unwashed scent reached her. “My pastor might be able to give you some work for a few hours.”
She couldn’t promise anything, but Pastor Alan would most likely put him to work for the rest of the day and pay him. Some homeless didn’t want the work; some did. Pedro did.
“Thank you, Sherry. God bless you.”
She’d quit trying to have him pronounce her name correctly. “We haven’t seen you in weeks.”
“I had an apartment and a job.”
“You did?” A surprise, but a good one. “What happened?”
“We got an apartment, Logan and I. You know him?” Sharee nodded. “Logan and this one friend of his were collecting scrap metal. So, they asked me to help. That’s how we could afford the apartment. But about a week ago this friend of his took off with the last of the money we got. So…” Pedro shrugged.
“Oh, Pedro. I’m sorry to hear that. Can you still collect metal?”
“No, he had the truck. Logan and I have no transportation.”
“So, you’re on the street again.”
“Si`.” Quiet settled inside the SUV.
Sharee turned her head as he muttered under his breath. “What?”
“I got used to the apartment, hermana. To being dry, to sleeping safe and in a bed.”
Her stomach caved. “Oh, Pedro. I wish I could help. The other man took all your money?”
“Si`. But the man was trouble.”
“Sounds like it.”
“He wanted our help—mine and Logan’s—with other things.”
Sharee lifted her brows. “With what?”
Pedro hesitated. “For something illegal, although he said it wasn’t. No matter, Sherry. I said no. But he offered a lot of money.”
Sharee sent up a silent prayer for him, even as other thoughts crowded in. She fought them just the way she had the evening before and throughout the day.
What happened last night, Lord? Does John know? Does he understand?
As she parked the SUV, she shoved the questions aside and forced her attention to Pedro. Three o’clock. Not too late. If Pastor Alan were here, he’d help. Somehow. She and Pedro climbed from the car and walked to the office.
Minutes later, she came out, leaving Pedro with the pastor and his wife.
~.~.~
Her eyes went to the field. Daneen had informed her that both John and George were working today. She grabbed John’s jacket and the bag with his clothes from the SUV and headed their way. She had to know what he’d meant last night when he said, “So, that’s it.”
She forced her shoulders back, took a deep breath and stopped in front of them, watching a minute as both men were sanding the edges of four-by-eight plywood sheets. They had cut holes that she assumed were for the spotlight and the speakers on the platform.
George glanced up, and she forced a smile. He returned the smile even as he lifted the board he held and moved to the platform, hauling it up the ladder. She held her breath until he reached the top.
She glanced at John. He continued sanding a portion of the wood. The silence stretched awkward and uneasy. After another minute, he put the board against a wooden sawhorse lined with tools and looked her way. His eyes were dark and unreadable.
Pain hit inside. “I… I… brought your jacket. Your clothes are in the bag.” She held both out to him.
“Thank you.” His voice sounded as unwelcoming as a guard dog on patrol. He took the jacket and the bag and looked around. He dropped the bag on the ground and threw the jacket over the sawhorse.
She stood motionless, heart pounding, her mind filled with what she wanted to say, to ask; but she found it impossible to form the words.
He lifted the board again, his gaze running down it. Without looking at her, he said, “The man who came with you—you picked him up?”
“Picked him up?”
“Yeah, is he one of your homeless cases or a hitchhiker?”
“Both. But they’re people, not cases.”
His eyes met hers again. “Excuse me. What I meant was did you pick up this person from the side of the road?”
“Yes, but I…”
“What you’re doing is dangerous.”
His anger and the hardness of his eyes shook her. She forced her shoulders back. “It isn’t any of your business, you know.”
“No, you’re right there.”
She fought against the pain. “Why are you acting like this? What did you mean last night?”
He put the board down. “You don’t know? I finally understood what your problem was. You and God are a team, right? And you can’t serve Him and have a relationship with me. I’m a heathen, after all. Not in your class. Right?”
Sharee sucked in her breath. He did know. Somehow. Only, he didn’t understand. How could she explain that the simple prohibition against being “yoked together” with an unbeliever was better for them both? It had nothing to do with him being good enough, and yet that’s how he saw it.
“John, it’s not like that. Please let me explain.” She put a hand out to touch him.
He moved out of reach, giving her a mocking smile. “Oh, I understand.” The smile vanished. “Don’t bother trying to make it sound better than it is.”
“It’s not what you’re thinking. Please don’t do this.”
“Well, it’s your decision. But tell me, how long were you going to let this charade go on? How long before you told me?”
“I wanted to tell you. I…I didn’t know how.”
“The truth, up front, would have been nice.”
“I wanted to, but I…”
“Did you?” The thin smile again. “You could have at any time.”
She swallowed. No, she hadn’t wanted to tell him. Everything in her had recoiled from what would happen—what was happening now. She’d wanted a relationship with him more than she’d wanted to do what God said. Tears sprung to her eyes.
She should have told him at the McDonald’s and saved them both this pain. As she tried to tell Lynn yesterday, she didn’t date unbelievers; because, to her, dating was a step toward marriage. But, where John was concerned, she’d let her feelings reign over her commitment to God. God deserved better and so did John.
She glanced up at him, wanting to make an excuse for not telling him, but excuses were just excuses, anyway. His cold, remote look tore at her heart.
She pivoted away from him and forced herself to walk back across the field, across the parking lot. When she rounded the corner of the fellowship hall, out of sight, she stopped. A minute later, she leaned against the building, brought her hands to her face and let the hot tears spill through her fingers.
~.~.~
John watched until she disappeared, holding down the boil inside him. Last night, when he saw the panic on her face, when she’d mentioned God, it all came together. He understood then why she kept pushing him away.
His eyes raked the skies. Will you take away anything I care about?
Someone grabbed his arm, yanking him around. He looked into George’s irate face.
“What did you do to her?” The Greek accent, which John never noticed before, highlighted the words like a threat.
He stepped back, every muscle tensed. “What business is it of yours?”
The older man’s arm moved, the fist tightening. John waited, hoping for that outlet, wanting it, but the blow never came. The man dropped his arm and spat on the ground. Surprise jerked John’s head back. George turned and stalked away.
John whirled and grabbed his jacket from the sawhorse, knocking it over. The tools spilled onto the ground. He pulled on his jacket and walked away.
~.~.~
He sat at his desk, head bowed, praying. He needed to talk with John and with Sharee. When George had burst throu
gh the door a short time ago, the man’s eyes blazed and his normal complexion had reddened. Alan had asked the homeless man to wait a few minutes and moved with George into the inner office. The second meeting with George about John proved as volatile as the first.
“Pastor Alan?” Sharee hesitated by the door to his office. Her eyes were red and swollen.
A talk with his cousin jumped to the top of his priority list. He’d sent George away with Pedro, promising the homeless man a few days’ work with pay. George would take him for a meal and then drive him back to the tent city where he lived. That would calm George down and keep him away from John the rest of the day.
“Have a seat, Sharee. You need to talk?” When she nodded, he reached for the phone. “Let me call Daneen. She’s on her way here, anyway.”
He listened and his heart tightened as Sharee and his wife quietly talked. Sharee stumbled through an explanation of her feelings for John.
“I knew God’s will in this situation but didn’t do it. I’ve hurt John, and he’s upset.”
Alan leaned forward. “Sharee, we can’t always control our emotions. With you and John working together, this is not a total surprise. You said John’s upset. Knowing John, you mean angry, don’t you? I hope he didn’t say anything out of line.”
Sharee shook her head “No. He does angry good, though.” She managed a half smile. “Perhaps someone could take over the Christmas program? I…I can’t see John and I working together, and I wouldn’t like to see it dropped.”
He sat back and slid a look at Daneen. “You felt like God put this on your heart, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but…” She stopped, swallowed. “I was thinking that I might go to another church for a while. You know, just to get away.”
He rose, moved around the desk and sat on the edge. “I don’t think running off will help. You’ve got more courage than that.” When she said nothing, he leaned forward. “Have you and John ever discussed his relationship with God?”
“No. That’s a closed door.”
“You’ve never asked him what he believes?”
“It seems obvious. He doesn’t.”
He crossed his arms. “I asked the congregation to pray for John from the day he came. You know that. John’s had a difficult struggle over the last few years with his faith.”
“His faith?” Her words held disbelief.
“Yes, his faith. He’s struggling. I can’t tell you more than that. He’s asked me not to.”
“I’m not sure I understand. John said… Well, he used the word heathen. To describe himself.”
“Did he? Hmm… You’ve stirred up feelings John hasn’t dealt with for a while. He acts like he’s okay, but he’s hurting inside. He’s angry with himself and with God.” He smiled and put a hand on her shoulder. “He’s taking it out on you right now. Don’t run away. Be patient. God has a plan.”
Sharee frowned. “A plan?”
Daneen leaned forward. “God always has a plan, Sharee. And not everything is easy. You know that. Trust God—like you always have.”
She stared at the floor for a while before looking back at him. “Do you know how many times I’ve said that to others? Trust God. Sometimes I was so impatient with them. I mean, I thought, you’re a Christian just hang in there and trust God.”
“It’s good advice—maybe without the impatience.”
“Yeah. And here I am failing miserably at being that person I thought they should be.”
“Sharee, don’t beat yourself up. You messed up, but it isn’t fatal. I know you’re hurting, and it will be tough working with John, but I think you can do it. And maybe John needs to see you do it. See you rely on God. Maybe you need to do it, too.” He gave her a small smile and walked back to his chair. “Now, a lot is going on here, and we need God’s help. Let’s pray.”
~.~.~
When she left the office, Sharee scanned the parking lot as she walked to her car. Everyone had left for the day. After her talk with Pastor Alan and after prayer, things looked clearer. Nothing had changed, but, she knew she would leave whatever happened in God’s hands.
Across the lot, the gray of evening had settled on the field, but in the grass, she saw a gleam of light. Next to it, some other unidentifiable item sat.
What was it? Nothing important surely. Her heart jumped. Not another doll. No, it couldn’t be. But she walked angled toward the field. A minute later, she stared down at the bag of clothes she had given John two hours ago. Next to them, the sawhorse lay flipped on its side, tools scattered across the ground.
He had left his tools. On the ground.
A groan rose. Oh, Lord. Pastor Alan was right. John’s hurting, too. What all it is, I don’t know. But you do. Please help him.
She stood silent for a long time, then, with a ragged breath, she bent and picked up the tools.
Chapter 14
The engine whined but didn’t turn over. Sharee tried again. For a second it sounded like it would catch then it coughed and whined once more. She snapped the key backward.
No. Not now. Not here.
When Daneen asked for the paperwork on Pedro, she’d made sure John wasn’t at the church. Daneen assured her he’d left to get some things for the Christmas program. He’d told her he wouldn’t be back. It was late. But when she arrived, his truck sat in its regular parking space. Her breath hitched. She didn’t want to see him. Not yet. Saturday would be soon enough.
She’d dropped the papers off and ran back to the car. Now the engine wouldn’t start. She turned the key once more. Whine. Click.
No. Please no. She waited a minute and tried again. Whine. Click. She gritted her teeth. Please, Lord.
The car door flew open. Sharee jumped and looked into John’s irate eyes. He was dressed in dark slacks and an open neck shirt., and he carried a tie and brown jacket over his arm.
“You. Need. A. Battery.” Each word sounded underlined. He put a hand on the top of her car and leaned forward. “I told you that. Why are you still playing with this? Don’t you care about your safety?”
His eyes, less than two feet away, glared at her. She pushed his arm aside and climbed from the SUV just to put some space between them.
“I usually don’t worry about my safety around here.” She saw his brows lift as he heard the meaning of her words.
“You’re being ridiculous. Why didn’t you get a battery like you said?”
“It’s not any of your business, remember?”
His expression froze. “So you said. But you might think about—”
George’s voice cut across him. “She’s right, Jergenson. It’s none of your business. Sharee can take care of herself, and if she needs help, she knows whom she can ask. What’s your problem?”
The men glowered at each other. Sharee’s gaze slid back and forth between them.
John straightened and stepped back. “The problem is she might not be at church next time this happens.” He turned to Sharee. “I told you it was the battery. Why didn’t you get one?”
“I’ve got cables if I need them.”
“Cables? Get a jump-start box, then you won’t have to ask some stranger for help.”
“Look, she doesn’t need your advice.”
“She needs somebody’s advice.”
Pastor Alan stepped into the circle. “The advice all around seems to be getting out of hand.”
They all glanced his way. A moment of quiet followed.
Sharee stabbed clenched fists to her side. “All right, I don’t need this. I can take care of myself. But John’s right.” She sent a glare his way. “I need a battery, and I’ll get one when I have the money. In the meantime, I’ve got cables. All I need is a jump, so, other than that, leave me alone.”
A car door slammed, and the sound of high-heeled shoes came toward them. “What is going on here?”
Sharee glanced over her shoulder. Talk about your power suit. Only it wasn’t a suit. Th
e black dress just skimmed the girl’s body and ended two inches above her knees. It swung as she marched forward, and her black heels moved in double-time. The long straight hair swung to match her stride, and her eyes flashed with undisguised displeasure. No, the outfit didn’t speak of power; the woman did.
“I asked, What’s going on?” Her gaze bored into John’s, shifted to Pastor Alan’s, and rested on George, seeming to absorb every detail of his appearance.
John moved from Sharee’s side. “Calm down, Alexis. No one needs rescuing here.” He paused a moment. “Sharee’s had trouble with her car. I told her she needs a new battery, but she’s not listening.”
The girl’s eyes held his for a moment. “I…see. Okay. Does she need her car started? Can’t one of you help her with that?”
“We’ll help her. It’s not that.” John’s scowl echoed in his voice. “She’s had problems for a while. I’ve told her what to do, but she hasn’t done it.”
“Yeah, and with that attitude, I probably wouldn’t either.” The woman frowned and met Sharee’s glance. “They call this helping? Ganging up on you?” She turned to the Pastor. “Isn’t that what you’re all about, Pastor? Helping people?”
“Now, Alexis…”
“Don’t use that tone with me! No one needs placating, either.” She looked at George. “You seem the best of the lot. Do you think you can get her car started and make sure she gets home?”
George grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” Her eyes narrowed at John. “And get her a battery.” She nodded to Sharee and marched back to the Jaguar.
The three men looked at each other and back at Sharee. John scowled, walked to the woman’s car and slid into the passenger seat. The Jaguar accelerated and moved off.
Sharee didn’t move when the car left. Pain ricocheted through her. Who was that? And why was John so angry with her if he was seeing someone else? Dean had been deceptive, too… She had always been a mess where men were concerned.
“Alexis will have his head on a platter,” Pastor Alan said with a chuckle. “She’s right, you know, we need to do something about this.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“I know you can, but let us help.” A smile crossed his face. “George will jump your car tonight. Are you going straight home? Good. If it won’t start tomorrow, call. If it does, come to the church, and we’ll go get a battery.” She started to protest, but he cut her off. “Sharee, you would be the first one to march up to me the same way Alexis did and demand we get one for someone else. Don’t let your pride get in the way.”
Amber Alert: Christian Contemporary Romance with Suspense (Dangerous Series Book 1) Page 12