He stopped, eyeing her, feeling the vulnerability within himself now. Things could still happen that he might not like, that could cut deep. But if so, he would hold onto the One who had created him, who had saved him.
Sharee huddled against him, shivering. He rubbed her arms.
Seconds later, she reared back, sitting bolt upright. “Wait. You knew God called you to be a missionary?”
“Yes.”
“But…you mean, through everything that’s happened, you knew you were called to be a missionary?” She jumped to her feet. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He stood, also. “I knew if I told you, you wouldn’t leave me alone. As it is…” He remembered his words just before she appeared with Joshua. “God has me where He wants me, anyway.”
He watched the moonlight and the breeze play with her hair. After a minute, he said, “You’re right about the omission, though. I seem to have done a lot of that since Janice died. Forgive me?”
“Hmph,” she said. “Too easy.”
He laughed and kissed her. She snuggled close, the resistance gone. He could feel the warmth of her body leaning into him. He dropped his arms about her waist.
“John?”
“Hmm?”
“This is the best Christmas gift I could have.”
“Is it?” He looked down at her and pulled on a stray curl. “Well, you have another gift coming.”
“I do?” She curled her body against his. He drew the sides of his jacket around her, wrapping them both inside.
“Uh huh.” He wanted to kiss her mouth again, her chin, her neck… He could generate some heat for her. Aloud, he asked, “Sharee?”
“Yes?”
“Are you going to be as stubborn about that purity thing as you are about everything else?”
She raised her head. “Yes.”
He groaned and said nothing. Not, as he’d said before, that he’d expected any other answer from her. Not that he would take advantage. He’d just have to marry the girl. He slipped off his jacket and put it around her. Something between them would help right now. “I’m buying you a coat or jacket for Christmas.”
“I can get my own jacket. I—”
“You can come with me, or I’ll pick something out myself. I refuse to let you freeze all winter. Especially in Florida.” And before she could protest further, he said, “Look, about Bruce and Pedro. What did you think you were—”
“What do you want for Christmas?”
He dipped his head, studied her and lifted a brow. “Okay. You’re off the hook for now.” He thought a moment but nothing came to mind. “I don’t know. We don’t do gifts much in my family.”
“There has to be something you want.”
He slipped his arms back around her, squeezed her. “I think I have it.”
She rested her head against his chest, and he stared out over the field. The moonlight and the Christmas lights filled his vision. Hope and joy filled his heart.
“John.” She pulled back and raised her face.
“Yes?”
“The gifts and callings of God are without repentance—without change. You said you knew what God had called you to. Well, he’s still calling you.”
He looked deep into her eyes for a minute and nodded. “I know that, girl. I know that.”
“For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior,
which is Christ the Lord.
And this shall be a sign unto you;
Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes,
lying in a manger.
And suddenly there was with the angel
A multitude of the heavenly host
Praising God, and saying,
Glory to God in the highest,
And on earth peace,
Goodwill toward men.”*
*Luke 2:11-14, KJV
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Amber Alert is Book 1
in the Dangerous Series.
As Long As You Both Shall Live is Book 2.
Splashdown, Book 3, will be out this summer.
Looking for Justice, a later installment, follows John's sister to Tennessee.
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at www.lindarodante.com
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Splashdown.
All of Linda’s works are available
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The next few pages will give you a peek
at As Long As You Both Shall Live.
As Long As You Both Shall Live
Prologue
She was always on time.
He could see the church parking lot from the edge of the woods. Glancing at his watch, he shifted position and made sure the trees concealed him. Cars exited the main road, bumped down the drive, and pulled in for the evening service. A steady stream of people parked and entered the building.
The woman who called earlier had not given her name—only a message. “Sharee’s getting engaged. She’s going to get married. Just thought you’d want to know.” And although he’d fought the urge to come, he had surrendered to the rising anger before the afternoon ended.
His fists clenched. Just like anyone else, he had the right to be here. He could even walk into the church. They couldn’t do anything about it. She couldn’t. Not like before. He contemplated doing that, going in, finding a seat near her, and listening to the sermon.
No.
He didn’t want to play games.
His head rose in time to see her Honda CR-V turn into the long drive. Parking next to the side door, she jumped out and hurried inside. She hadn’t changed. Same petite body, same untamed hair and, he was sure, the same puritanical attitudes.
No, he didn’t want to play games. What he wanted was not nearly so innocent.
Chapter 1
John Jergenson’s head bounced against the window when the airplane’s wheels hit the runway in Tampa. He tried stretching his six-foot-two body in the cramped seat as he’d done numerous times over the last twenty-seven hours. The long flight had taken a toll.
As buildings and cement roared past outside, he shoved the tiredness away. For four weeks he’d flown into the jungles of Indonesia and hiked through muddy terrain to reach villages lost to time. Tired and dirty, his group had emerged from the wild to be met as if they were kings or royalty. Being put on such a pedestal had humbled him, and that taste of humility had not left him yet. He wouldn’t ruin it by complaining.
“Home.” His eyes focused on familiar objects. “And home safely.”
In the seat next to him, Bob Ferguson chuckled. “Did you doubt it?”
John sent Bob a sardonic smile. “Only a half dozen times.”
“One time being that crocodile, and another that logging mess we got caught in. Dugout canoes aren’t the safest transportation in a river full of logs.”
“I wish they’d warned us.”
“And taken the chance that we’d back out?”
John’s mouth lifted. They’d have made that downriver trip no matter what. The month he’d spent under Bob Ferguson’s tutelage had brought appreciation for the man’s wit, intelligence, and spirituality. At times, though, he’d questioned his mentor’s sanity.
His smile widened. “With you, they had no fear of that.”
“God was with us.”
“That He was.”
John grabbed the backpack from under the seat in front of him. He’d come through situations he’d never faced before, and each one had sent him to his knees in thanksgiving and praise.
He shifted his gaze to the airplane window. Sharee should have been there. At night, after a long day of work and ministry, he’d lie on the dirt floor in a crowded hut and think
about her. He wanted her beside him. Her love of helping others would fit perfectly with the work that needed to be done. Next time… Next time, she would be with him.
Something stilled inside him. Had the ring he bought in Jakarta arrived? Had Bruce picked it up as he’d asked?
Around him now, people began to stand and edge into the aisles. The phone conversations swirled and rose and then grew silent as the passengers dragged baggage from the overhead bins.
Bob rose. “Sharee picking you up?”
“Yes.” John met his friend’s grin with his own, squeezed into the aisle and joined the assembly line inching forward.
They passed through the gangway and caught the tram. When the doors opened again, he stepped out and let his gaze slip from person to person until he saw the mass of auburn curls. She wore a blue dress of some shiny material and the gold necklace he’d given her before he left. Heels lifted her five-foot-two-inch frame to average height. A frown creased her forehead, but even with the serious expression, she looked beautiful. His heart kicked up a notch.
As their eyes met, relief flooded her countenance. He side-stepped Bob’s family reunion and continued forward to stop in front of her. Her head tilted back, eyes looking deep into his. She’d worried about him. He saw it in the way she searched his face, and he dropped his bag and pulled her into his arms.
~.~.~
They turned in at Howard Park; and drove past the oaks, pines, and palms that surrounded the picnic shelters; and headed across the causeway to the small island beach. On either side, sunbathers stretched out on beach towels, catching the last rays of the sun. In the water, windsurfers flaunted their aerial stunts and flipped their boards over in quick, broad arcs. The spray from their acrobatics swept like long fish tails behind them.
Sharee sighed—content and relaxed as she hadn’t been for weeks. Maybe since he was home, her concern about their relationship would cease. Her heart stumbled as she thought about Dean. She’d made a mistake by rushing it. She wouldn’t do that again. But John was not Dean, and she needed to remember that.
And she’d tell him about the phone calls. He’d know what to do.
John glanced her way, smiled. He parked the truck facing the Gulf. The white sand glistened in the late afternoon light, and the roughened waters stretched to the horizon. Light sparkled off the wave tops—a million tiny reflectors, shifting, winking, moving.
They kicked off their shoes, climbed out of the truck and walked along the beach. When they stopped, John drew her around to face him.
The wind caught her hair, twirling it in front of her eyes. She moved it behind her ear and studied his coffee-colored hair, the deep-set eyes, and tall, wiry build. “Four weeks was a long time.”
“Was it?” A light appeared in his dark eyes. “For me, too, although it was an amazing trip.”
“Tell me about it.”
He ran his hands up and down her arms. “I wish you’d been there.”
“I think I would have liked that.” After the last couple of weeks, she had to agree. Instead of spending time in a jungle of emotions here, the idea of spending time in a real jungle sounded intriguing.
He took her hand and turned to walk the beach again, his voice deep but passionate as he talked about traveling through the jungles, staying in the villages and helping with needed building projects. “Then each evening, we took turns preaching. We’d begin after dark and only had the lanterns, but when we lifted them high during the meeting, we could see that the entire village had gathered in the dark.” He stopped and turned to face her. “Sharee, mission trips change people. We both know that. The anointing and the presence of God seem so strong. You know I’ve felt called to overseas missions. I believe this trip confirmed it.”
She smiled. “I can hear it in your voice.”
“I need extra flight training, especially landing on those short airstrips. I’m sure we didn’t see the shortest ones.” He chuckled. “And it takes an extra dose of faith to fly some of the planes. I studied maintenance and repair before, but I need a refresher.”
He stopped. Sharee felt his hesitation. She lifted her head, keeping her hair in place with one hand, and searching his face.
“I’d like to go back in six months.”
“What?” Something dropped into her stomach. The smell of the sea spray reached them. “But you just got home.”
“I know.”
She had wanted him home, wanted his confidence in fighting the sudden uneasiness in her life. He couldn’t be leaving again. Not this soon. “What about the schooling you just mentioned? Won’t it take a while?”
“I’ll start immediately. I was studying aviation mechanics when the crash happened.” He paused a moment. “Doing a refresher won’t take long.”
“And you don’t want it to.”
Her voice must have risen because he moved his head to inspect her. “No.”
The sun’s last cusp slipped beneath the horizon, and the gold lights disappeared. “I don’t know how you can do all that you want in six months. You’re being unrealistic.”
His brows rose, and he pulled her close. “We need to talk about it. I’d planned to tell you all that happened on this trip. About the dangers we could face in the jungles, but God is so real there, so present. Not that He isn’t everywhere, but you’ve been on mission trips. You understand. I want to go back, and I want you to go, too.”
She put a hand against his chest. “John, I’m not sure about a mission trip. I just…I…” What? How could she say she wasn’t sure about anything right now?
“Not just a mission trip.” His voice had deepened. His lopsided grin and his next words made his meaning clear. “Marry me.”
“What?”
His arms tightened around her. “I love you. You know that. God is calling us both. Don’t you feel it?”
She didn’t know what she felt these days. She had just wanted him home, wanted the anxiety gone, wanted things the way they were before he left.
“Marry me. We’ll go back together.”
She dropped her head. I’m not ready for this, Lord. Please.
“Sharee?”
His puzzlement was clear, but she couldn’t look at him. His question was a formality only. In fact, it wasn’t even a question, and he expected her to say “yes” with the same enthusiasm he exhibited.
“John, I can’t. I…” How could she explain her recent feelings? The uneasiness about their relationship, how she’d messed up before, and then the phone calls… A sudden wave of emotion swamped her.
He put a finger under her chin, lifted it, and pushed the hair from her eyes. His smile disappeared. He studied her face a moment longer and dropped his hand.
~.~.~
What is wrong, Lord? Why do I feel as if I’m on a tilt-a-whirl?
Sharee blew out a ragged breath. John had returned from a life-changing experience feeling certain she’d say yes to marriage, and yes to serving the Lord with him. And before he left, her heart had said the same. How could she explain the feelings that swirled inside now, that had grown over his month-long absence? She couldn’t. Instead, she’d asked him to give her time, a week or two at least, before she gave her answer.
On the ride back, she sensed his pain. She wanted to say something, anything to make it better but couldn’t.
Her eyes slid to the clock. Just three hours ago. She grabbed another tissue, swiped at her eyes then blew her nose. Why this indecision? Why?
The phone shrilled, and her muscles tensed across her shoulders. She didn’t want to talk to anyone. The music came again, and she leaned forward to check the screen. Pastor Alan. No. No way. He’d know something was wrong immediately. But why was he calling? It shrilled again. Was there a problem? Someone homeless with whom he needed her help?
She snatched the phone from the end table. “Hello?”
“Sharee?”
“Yes.”
“It’s Pastor Alan. We�
��re at the hospital, but don’t worry. They’re just doing some tests. I’m sure he’ll be all right.”
“Who will be all right? What are you talking about?”
“John.”
“John?” Her voice rose. “What about him?”
“There’s been an accident.”
Dedication and Thank-you
This book is dedicated to the Father and to Lord Jesus Christ without whom there would be no Christmas, no new life, no eternal life. Thank you for forming me, loving me and shaping and guiding me. May the words of my mouth (and computer) and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, my Lord and my God.
And to my mother, Elaine Knadle, for her constant love for her children, and her enthusiastic love of Christ, for her courage in following Him and being a witness in Jerusalem, in Judea, in Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.
And continuing thank-you to so many others!
The Word Weavers critique group of Tampa, Sheryl Young, Janis Powell, Sharron Cosby and all the rest. You are great critiquers and friends.
Becky Zuch, friend and beta reader, patient listener and constant encourager.
Sue Wayne, my boss at Trinity College for encouragement and always giving me time off for whatever writer’s conference was upcoming, and for her encouragement.
Kathy Blackwell, friend, critiquer, and beta reader.
Members of Highest Praise Family Church for reading my first manuscripts and encouraging me.
Amber Alert: Christian Contemporary Romance with Suspense (Dangerous Series Book 1) Page 28