Looking for Justice: Christian Contemporary Romance with Suspense (Dangerous Series Book 4)

by Linda K. Rodante

  Her brother leaned toward her. “But you had to do everything. Upholding Mom and Dad’s new wife. And yourself.”

  Luke groaned inside. Some of that reunion he’d seen made sense now. “His death was a surprise?”

  John raised his head and met Luke’s gaze. Grief there, too.

  “Yes. A heart attack.” When Luke nodded, John continued. “Sharee’s labor lasted two days. I had to threaten to take the hospital apart before they would do a cesarean. When Johnnie was born, they told us that because of complications, he might not ever see or hear or walk.”

  “But God—” Sharee said.

  “Yes. Johnnie was in intensive care, and we went every day and prayed. And the church we were members of and the people we had ministered to began showing up at the hospital and praying around the clock. Finally, the doctors said to take him home. I think they wanted to get rid of us and the prayer circles, but that’s the best thing we could have done. As soon as he was home, he began making progress. We know he can see and hear. He moves his legs just fine. God healed him.” His eyes left Luke’s face and focused on Alexis. “God is the same, yesterday, today and forever.”

  “That’s true.” Luke said. He sat back in his chair. “Praise God for your miracle.”

  John’s face lifted, his eyes shone. “We did. And then we came home as soon as we knew he could travel.”

  “So where is he?”

  “With Sharee’s mom and dad. They drove up to be here for a few days. We rented a cabin on the mountain. Beautiful view. My mom is driving down. We’ll go back home to Florida in a week or two.” His eyes focused on his sister. “I wanted to see Alexis first.”

  ***

  Luke placed another log on the fire, set the screen in front of it, and backed away. Farley circled and went to find a place to sleep. No storms tonight, so he let the Blue Heeler inside. The sparks in the fireplace rose and glowed. He watched until the flames burned steady then eased into the recliner.

  He’d enjoyed the evening. No surprise. Alexis had relaxed, and she, her brother, and sister-in-law had proved warm, witty and good company. Even the late revelation of her father’s death had not kept all laughter from the group. On the drive back to her car, she’d acted skittish again, like Sandy when Mandy wasn’t near. He wondered what about him made her nervous.

  The fire’s warmth massaged him. He stretched his arms over his head and clasped his wrists with his hands. She looked gorgeous in the dress. He smiled for a moment then brought his arms down, crossed them over his chest and chewed the inside of his cheek.

  Beautiful women are trouble, Lord. You and I talked about this. I’m no Adonis. The only thing I’ve got going for me is this place and You. I’m not ready to get involved with someone who might leave. Not another one.

  If he didn’t want to get involved, why had he asked her over this week? At dinner, she mentioned that she’d love to be around when he let Max loose. And since he had no other birthday gift to give her, he’d invited her. That was the reason. The only reason.

  Yeah.

  Right.

  And the moon was made of pepper-jack cheese.

  Chapter 9

  She stepped into the foyer as he closed the door behind her. “Thank you for letting me come.”

  “I didn’t think I could keep you away.” He gave her a slow smile.

  Alexis smiled back, feeling that strange warmth that his smile brought some times. “He’s been boxed up for so long, I just wanted to see him take off when you let him out.”

  “Well, he’s been in the corral a couple of times this week, but I understand what you mean.” He looked down at her feet. “Real boots.”

  “I had to unpack the rest of my boxes to find them. These were my favorites. I never thought I’d wear them again.”

  “Well, riding is great exercise. You should start again.”

  “If it’s such good exercise, what’s with the exercise room down the hall?” When he said nothing, she wondered if she’d overstepped some invisible line. “I saw it the first night I was here.”

  “I set up all the equipment when I first moved in, but I don’t use it much. There’s enough to be done around here to keep fit.”

  She nodded and tried not to look toward his chest. He wore a T-shirt with an unbuttoned long-sleeve flannel shirt over it. He looked good, workouts or not. And since when had she cared about a guy’s physique?

  Her eyes met his, and the heat rose in her face.

  “What about you?” He asked, leaving her to wonder if he’d noticed her glance. “What do you do for exercise since you don’t ride?”

  “I used to work out most work-day evenings. I had to get rid of the tension after court or working on a case. It helped my thinking, too. But lately, I haven’t done much.” She glanced out the kitchen window. “And you’re right, I remember that working around a place like this can keep you in shape. Not just riding, but lifting bales of hay and fifty pound bags of feed, climbing fences, all that kind of stuff.”

  “Unless you’re the type of person that thrives on gym-toned, bulked-up bodies, this type of exercise is fine.”

  His voice carried an undertone it hadn’t before. She studied his face, wondering. After a moment, she said, “Why don’t you use the room for something else then?”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “Good idea. I thought I needed it when I moved here. Teresa would have insisted.” His eyes focused on the kitchen window.

  “Teresa?”

  “My ex.”

  “Oh.” She wasn’t sure what to say. He’d been married before. “No children?”

  “No. She didn’t want to mess up her body. She got very body-conscious sometime while I was overseas.”

  “Oh.”

  “And the war didn’t help.”

  Alexis had heard that tone from witnesses before. He was trying to tell her something without actually saying it, which meant the clues were there. She’d know what he was saying if she thought about it. Her gaze dropped to his leg then rose again.

  “Your limp?”

  “My leg.”

  She frowned. “Tell me.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “What should I know?”

  He said nothing just searched her face. At last, he stepped forward and pulled a chair from the kitchen table. “Thought someone would have mentioned it.”

  He tugged the boot off and rolled up the left pant leg of his jeans. The plastic and metal foot and then the leg appeared. A prosthetic.

  She choked down the lump in her throat, gripped the back of the chair. “Oh, Luke. I’m so sorry.”

  “I was, too, at first. You have to get past it. Teresa couldn’t.”

  Her look jumped from the prosthesis back to his face. She knew her mouth hung open. “Luke, I…I…”

  He waved his hand. “It’s okay.”

  “How…?”

  “The war. Bomb went off. Lost my foot, part of my leg below the knee. It’s called a BKA, below-the-knee amputation.”

  She wanted to ask some questions, but his tone told her to wait. She stared at his leg. “It’s not okay.” She heard the staccato sound of her voice and wanted to say more. “Your wife was a Christian?”

  “No one’s perfect. You know that. There was only one that was perfect.”

  So she’d heard. Jesus. They all brought it back to Jesus. She started to shake her head, but didn’t. “It doesn’t make it right.”

  He smiled and rolled the material back down over the prosthetic. “With the leg change, came other changes. After a while, I stopped working out so hard, stopped trying to prove I was still a man. Our outlooks on what was important began to differ.”

  She sat down across from him. What had he gone through? Wasn’t losing a leg enough? How could his wife just leave? She put a tentative hand on his arm. “The possession of a leg does not make you a man, and losing a leg doesn’t make you less of one. The tragedy, though, can make you bitter or better.”

  His gaze
dropped to her hand and rose again to her face. She moved her hand, wondering if she’d overstepped another boundary. She’d overstepped her own. How long had it been since she’d touched a man in some kind of communication? Besides John and her dad, it had been years.

  He bent down and pulled on the boot. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

  “Maybe.”

  He said nothing. The silence stretched.

  He’d told her about his wife, shown her his leg; but could she trust him? She’d opened up to another man, and it had ended in disaster. She stood up and walked to the back door.

  “Maybe later?” he asked from behind her.

  “Maybe,” she said, not meaning it at all.

  ***

  His gaze followed her as she hurried down the steps, putting space between them. He’d felt the tenderness when she touched him. Not something he’d noticed but once or twice before and only with Jessica.

  So, something had happened. He’d guessed that already. Something with a man. Something that made her bitter whether she realized it or not. It hadn’t ruined her – yet – but still influenced her in a deep way.

  He watched her walk ahead of him, admiring her tall, model-like build. She wore jeans and a loose t-shirt – nothing suggestive or provocative. Her long hair swung and caught the light. He smiled. She added a nice touch to his place.

  Luke lengthened his stride until he was next to her. He squashed the sudden urge to take her hand, and they reached the barn together. The stallion stretched his head over the half-door. Farley ran from some hidden place in the barn and circled their feet. Luke patted his head.

  “Keeping him company, boy?”

  The dog sniffed Alexis’ hand before scratching at Max’s door.

  “Let me check him first.” Luke pushed the dog away, slipped into the stall and walked to the stallion’s side. He lifted the horse’s hind foot, running his hand over the shaved portion of the leg, over stitches that still showed. “Looks good. The vet said he’ll do fine.”

  Alexis reached over the door and palmed the horse’s nose. “How you doing, big boy? Ready to get out of here?”

  “More than ready, I’m sure.” Luke came forward and slipped a lead rope from a hook then clipped it on the horse’s halter. “Would you mind standing near the mares? I brought them in early because I planned to let him go, but he might decide they’re more interesting than a run in the field. Just shoo him toward the door if he looks that way.”

  “Men are always so double-minded,” Alexis said, moving toward the end of the barn. Both mares had their noses over their doors. “We should have brought some carrots.”

  “The girls are getting big enough without extra treats.”

  “Oh, yeah. Says the man that brings the biggest carrots I’ve ever seen for the stallion.”

  Luke laughed. “I bought him first. Guess he’s my favorite.”

  “It’s not noticeable or anything.”

  He sent her an amused look and opened the door. “Here we go.”

  The horse shoved him back into the middle of the barn and danced forward. Farley barked and slipped between them.

  “Farley, out! Come on, Max.”

  He led the horse into the sunlight and toward the gate. The horse’s excitement caused him to tighten his hold to keep them both at a walk.

  “Alexis, get the gate, will you? He seems to know what’s going on.”

  She scooted past them, giving a wide berth to the stallion, and unlatched the gate. It swung open.

  “Back out of the way.”

  She moved to the side, and Luke grinned as they passed her then stopped and unclipped the lead rope.

  “There you go, Max. Head out.”

  The stallion shoved his shoulder into him, and Luke stumbled backward but caught himself before the horse shook his head and trotted free.

  “Let’s close the gate before he decides this side of the fence looks better.”

  They pushed it closed and turned in time to see Maximus take a long stride, stretch out and race for the hilltop, mane flying.

  Alexis laughed. “Wow. Look at him go.” She moved forward, her gaze on the horse. The stallion disappeared on the other side of the hill. “He’s probably going to be running along the road again.” Raising her arms, she caught her hair, twirled it, and pulled it on top of her head. The fine hairs at her neck were dark with perspiration.

  Luke caught his breath and cleared his throat. “Probably.”

  “And some tourist will want to stop and take pictures.” She turned toward him, a smile teasing her features.

  The sight of Max running free had thrilled him as it did her, but the sight of her bare neck and her closeness stirred other feelings. His heart kicked into a staccato beat, and he raised his hands to rest on her shoulders.

  “Alexis.” His hands tightened; his voice roughened. Her muscles bunched under his hands, and he bent and kissed the side of her neck.

  She jerked away, her eyes wide and dilated. His did the same at her look. If he’d ever seen fear – and the war overseas had made sure he had – he was seeing it now. He took a step back.

  She was afraid of him? She’d stayed the night of the storm and found she was safe, so why was she afraid now? His mind grappled for some explanation while they stared at each other. Afraid of a relationship? With an amputee? Although she hadn’t acted that way earlier, hadn’t acted horrified or disgusted.

  His mind rested on the one thing he knew. Friendship and a romantic involvement were two different things. Teresa had made that clear. She wanted a friendship, she’d told him, and a divorce. Not a marriage, a friendship.

  He took another step away. “Sorry. I was out of line.”

  Alexis said nothing.

  She’s struggling. Still. He wanted to say, “Hey, don’t worry about it. It’s okay.” But those words stuck in his throat. Instead, he said, “I know you need to get back. I’ll get your purse.”

  The walk to the house took forever, his mind whirling, coping with the disappointment that knuckled a hollow place into his stomach. Her purse sat on the kitchen table. He grabbed it…and stopped.

  The weight was twice or three times what he’d expected. What did she keep in the thing? He fingered the side of the bag, lifted a brow, and probed the heaviness again.

  She carried a gun?

  Chapter 10

  After she left, he walked back to the house, went down the hall to the exercise room and stood in the doorway. He had tried for awhile to be everything Teresa wanted. If he couldn’t give her back his leg, he could at least give her the chest and shoulders of a man in whom she could be proud. But that was before he learned of the affair she’d had while he was overseas, while he was still whole.

  After the divorce, after moving, he’d kept at the exercise for awhile. One day, God entered the room through the window’s dancing light – entered the room and spoke, not in an audible voice, but for him it had the same effect. The knowledge that he was okay just as he was sunk deep into his being, changing him. Since that time, life had settled into a deep contentment. Yes, the house seemed lonely once in awhile, but he knew it wouldn’t be forever. He’d been content to wait.

  Alexis had changed that. He told God he wanted someone who laughed, and who wasn’t pretty. Alexis was pretty, and she didn’t laugh. Well, not until her birthday dinner and then again today. That’s what had startled him, drew him. She’d laughed. And she’d touched him.

  Her rejection slapped like a twelve-foot wave in pounding surf. His handling of it stunk. He knew that. He’d handed her purse to her and let her drive away without saying another word.

  His throat worked, and his eyes shifted and focused on the equipment in the room. He shouldn’t be here. He couldn’t prove he was still a man here.

  Go. Go ride instead. Shovel manure. Fork hay. Don’t stay here.

  But he stepped through the doorway and picked up a barbell he hadn’t touched in months. Working on the property and with
the animals really did keep him in shape. Just not sculpted, gym-toned, muscle-bound shape like Teresa wanted. And maybe like Alexis wanted.

  It won’t make up for a missing leg.

  Yeah, but at least I can wear myself out.

  He hefted the barbell, rolled it toward him all the while staring at the weight bench. Leaning over, he picked up the barbell’s mate and rolled it to his chest, too. Then he put them down and stepped to the weight bench.

  At least, I can wear myself out.

  ***

  Alexis rested her elbows on the dining table and put her head in her hands. She had returned from her morning jog to find the condo empty. That should ring all kind of warning bells. Instead, it sent relief zipping through her. She’d worry about where Jessica and her mom went later.

  She took a shower, did her hair, put on her make-up, and dressed.

  Her heart still stuttered when she thought of Luke’s mouth on her neck, his hands on her arms. Fear had seized her as soon as he touched her. The intimacy in his touch, its gentleness, shook her. If he hadn’t kissed her neck, she might have managed.

  But Brock’s kiss… Why couldn’t she get past that? She’d trusted him, and now another man wanted her trust. Sure. Right. And how do I know you’re any different?

  Luke’s face rose in front of her. His shock and then shut-down made everything worse. What had she done to him? She’d never had that kind of influence or effect on anyone unless it was in the courtroom. Not in a personal way.

  She stood and walked into the living area. He’d told her about his ex-wife. He’d opened himself to her. Could she ever do that with another human being? Besides John?

  John would tell her to give Luke a chance, give love a chance. But she’d tried that before. She swung around and stared at the tasteful furnishings, the ones she had picked out when she moved here, the sculpture, the paintings. Start over, she’d told herself. But had she? Hadn’t she brought the same problems with her to Tennessee?

  Bitter or better, she said to Luke. Where was she on that continuum? Maybe, she needed a fresh perspective on life…and on men.