Behind the Altar: Behind the Love Trilogy

by P. C. Zick

  Behind the Altar

  By P. C. Zick

  Behind the Altar

  Copyright © 2014 by P.C. Zick

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Design: Author Marketing Club

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and dialogues portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems without permission by the author. The only exception is by a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Author Contact:

  P. C. Zick

  Email – pczick23@gmail.com

  DEDICATION

  To my husband, Robert Zick. You are the reason I can write about love.

  Table of Contents

  DEDICATION

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Thank You

  About the Author

  CHAPTER ONE

  Leah threw down the dishrag and glared at the woman who would soon be her mother-in-law.

  “I don’t understand why you shut down the kitchen during the lunch serving,” Leah said, as she faced Geraldine Davis.

  “I told you last week the Board decided to shut down this charity program you’re running out of the church kitchen,” Geraldine said. “This kitchen was paid for out of the collection plates by the good people who attend church every Sunday and work hard the other days of the week. They don’t want to see the homeless come in here and destroy it.”

  As soon as Geraldine finished her pronouncement, all 200 pounds of her turned away from the large metal table in the center of the kitchen. Leah Bryant watched her walk out the side door that led to the church offices. Geraldine wore a red polyester suit and matching two-inch heels. Her bleached blond hair, ratted as high as it could go, gave her five-foot-three frame more authority. Leah often wondered if Geraldine slept with a box over her head to protect the lacquered helmet between her weekly appointments.

  Jacob, Leah’s finance, walked into the kitchen from the hall.

  “Where’s Mother?” he asked.

  Leah pointed to the back door. “She shut down the kitchen while I was serving lunch.”

  “Leah, you were told this was going to happen,” he said.

  “And you said you were going to do everything possible to see it didn’t happen.” She threw an orange at him, just missing his pressed shirt from the dry cleaners. Oxford, white, and pristine described his shirt as much as it did Jacob. “She didn’t need to do it at lunchtime.”

  Jacob scratched his blonde hair, cut short over his ears and neck and combed into place with lots of gel. His creased gray pants matched his tie. They were an oddly matched couple, even when Leah put on a dress for Sunday services. Leah was his direct opposite in khaki shorts that came to just above her knee and hung loosely on her thin hips. She wore a white sleeveless T-shirt tucked into her baggy shorts. Her long dark brown hair, wavy and thick, was contained in a braid hanging down her back. The red bandana tied around her head gave her a bit of color in an otherwise bland landscape of clothing. Leah, at twenty-two, was a breathtaking beauty despite her lack of attention to her appearance.

  “I can only do so much, and you know that,” Jacob said. “The Board runs this church, not the minister. For now, the kitchen is closed. Any food orders you make from here on out will not be paid out of church funds.”

  “So if I get funding, can I use the facilities?” she asked.

  “Probably not,” Jacob said. “The ladies of the church want to use the kitchen and hall for weekly luncheons and bazaars and need the space during the week to set up. We’ve already gone over this, Leah. Why are you fighting it?”

  “Because those river folks need the food I serve every day. I know the real reason they’ve shut me down, and so do you,” Leah said as she walked out of the kitchen and into the hall to clean up the few plates she’d managed to serve before Geraldine shut it down.

  As Leah headed for the tables, the side door to the hall opened. She looked up to see a man, maybe in his late twenties, enter the hall. His brown hair hung down his neck, and he looked as if he’d been sleeping outside for a few nights. He wore dirty khaki shorts, flip-flops, and a tank top with the faded words, “Happy Hour Crabs.” Despite the state of his clothing and hair, his blue eyes mesmerized Leah, as they drilled into hers. Her entire being felt the heat of his stare as she moved toward him.

  She stood in front of him still holding a dirty plate. He was eight inches taller than she was so she tilted her head up and continued to gaze into his eyes.

  “Your eyes are the most astounding shade of green,” he said. “Like the deep green of a magnolia leaf. You’re beautiful.”

  Leah didn’t know how to respond, especially since her knees starting shaking as soon as he opened his mouth and spoke in the slow drawl only used by someone who’d grown up in rural north Florida. He sounded like Reggie and Susie, her only friends in Victory.

  “I’ve never seen you before, but I can tell you’re from around here,” she said.

  “I grew up here, but I don’t remember you,” he said. “I would have remembered.”

  “Tampa. I’m from Tampa. I’ve only been here a few years.”

  “And I’ve been away living in Miami for ten years,” he said. “Don’t get home much.”

  “Miami isn’t all that far away,” she said. “You’ve never come back to see your family in ten years?”

  “You don’t know my family, and Miami is worlds away from Victory. Can I help you?” He nodded to the plate she held as a shield between their two bodies.

  “No, I’m cleaning up. I’m afraid if you came for lunch, I won’t be able to serve you any hot food,” she said. “But I might be able to find something in the fridge if you need to eat.”

  “That would be great,” he said. “I haven’t eaten since last night.”

  She nodded and walked to the kitchen, wondering how she could handle one more mouth to feed when she didn’t have any way to feed the ones already living on the riverbanks. She pulled out some leftover potato salad and cole slaw that she’d made that morning. She’d only been able to serve three men before Geraldine made her appearance, so there was plenty left. She’d passed out most of the fried chicken to the folks who weren’t able to get the full lunch when they showed up a few minutes after the closure. She pulled a plate out of the cupboard and heaped high with the leftovers, including a few pieces of chicken. Jacob had left the kitchen, probably in his office working on Sun
day’s sermon. She felt a twinge of guilt when she thought of him diligently working on his homilies while she served the man in the hall—a man who made her feel unlike anything she’d ever felt before.

  “I’m a lunatic for letting some guy off the streets get to me,” she whispered to herself as she picked up his food.

  She walked back into the hall carrying the plate. He was reading the announcements on the bulletin board when she returned. When he turned toward her, he was grinning.

  “Do you know the minister here?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said and wondered why she didn’t tell him how well she knew the minister.

  “Is he good?” he asked.

  “The parishioners like him.”

  “That’s good. I knew the minister before him. What happened to him?”

  “Big Jim? He died a few months ago, and his son, Jacob, took over.”

  “Sorry to hear about Big Jim. That was convenient to have his son ready to take over. Is Geraldine still around?”

  “Mrs. Davis is still very involved; maybe too involved.” Immediately Leah regretted speaking disrespectfully about Geraldine, the woman who’d taken her in off the streets and given her a place in her home and in the church. Geraldine was the reason she was engaged to Jacob.

  Dean kept reading the announcements on the board. “Yes, Geraldine would keep herself involved, I’m sure. Never liked the bitch myself.”

  Leah giggled despite her discomfort in talking so poorly about her. Right now, she completely agreed with the stranger in front of her.

  “Here’s some food,” she said. “It’s not much, but hopefully it will help you get through the day. They shut my kitchen down, so that’s why no one else is here.”

  “Your kitchen?” he asked as he sat down in front of the plate filled with cold food.

  “Yes, Soup’s On,” she said. “I feed the area homeless and those without the means to cook or buy their own food. At least, I did. The Board voted to stop funding it. I can’t even use the facilities because the ladies of the church need the hall for their socials.”

  “That makes sense,” Dean said. “That’s much more important than helping those less fortunate.”

  “It doesn’t make much sense,” Leah said as she sat across from him at the long rectangular table. “It’s been a wonderful thing for the community, but they don’t want their place of worship sullied by those ‘dirty homeless people.’ That’s what one of the Christian Society ladies said to me the other day.”

  “You’re very passionate about your work, aren’t you?” he asked.

  “Yes, I am. I was homeless myself until Mrs. Davis took me into her home. That’s why I can’t figure out why she didn’t do anything to stop the Board from making the decision.”

  Her hands rested in front of her on the table, and he reached over and placed his hands on top of hers. She felt a tingle move up her arms. She found herself once again mesmerized by his eyes. The tingle extended to other parts of her body.

  “You look familiar to me,” she said. “I feel as if I’ve met you before.”

  “Maybe we have,” he said as he squeezed her hands. “When I look at you, it feels like I’m falling into a deep well.”

  She pulled her hands away quickly and put them in her lap. She looked down at the surface of the table.

  “Do you have a place to sleep tonight?” she asked and immediately regretted the question, but it was a routine one she asked of all who came into Soup’s On for a meal. “What I mean is, there’s a camp down at the river where folks stay. I’m sure they’d welcome you there.”

  “Thanks, but I’m not sure if I’m staying yet. Depends on a few things.”

  “Why are you here?” she asked.

  “Before we get to that, I want to ask you something,” he said. “Since you served me lunch, will you have dinner with me tonight?”

  “Dinner?”

  Before she could answer, the door to the kitchen swung open. Jacob and Geraldine walked into the hall.

  “Hello, Jacob,” the stranger said. “Mom, how are you?”

  “You’re not welcome here,” Jacob said.

  “That’s right, Dean,” Geraldine said. “You need to turn around and get out of here before I call the police.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Good to see you, too, Mom,” Dean said.

  He stood and came around the table to stand in front of his brother. Geraldine stayed behind Jacob. Dean cracked his knuckles, and Leah noticed for the first time the tattoo of a snake curling around his right arm from his wrist all the way up to his shoulder. His left arm was bare, but muscles on both rippled as he cracked his knuckles one at a time.

  “You need to turn around and walk back out of here,” Geraldine said. She remained rooted near the door and looked as if she wanted to turn right around and go through the swinging door to the kitchen. She held her cell phone up in her hand. “I’ll call the police, if you don’t leave now.”

  “You’ve already said that, and just what are you going to tell them, Geraldine? That a grieving son’s come home after hearing about his father’s death? Go ahead and make that call,” Dean said. “How can you deny a loving son the right to mourn his father?”

  Leah noticed Geraldine backing up toward the door instead of coming forward.

  “You’re Dean?” Leah asked when she found her voice. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

  “I’m no Mark Twain, but it appears the reports of my death were greatly exaggerated.”

  Leah stood and came toward Jacob who reached for her hand and pulled her close to him. Leah moved away slightly. She needed an explanation of why Jacob and Geraldine had lied to her for the past five years.

  “Why did you tell me he died, Jacob?” Leah asked. When her fiancé didn’t answer, she turned around to look at Geraldine. “Geraldine?”

  “To us, he was dead,” Geraldine said.

  “Why?” Leah asked. “Would someone please tell me what’s going on.”

  “What’s it to you, Miss Savior of the World?” Dean asked. “This is a family matter; it doesn’t concern the woman who’s been kicked out of the church hall for feeding the homeless.”

  “You haven’t changed one bit,” Jacob said. “You’re still as nasty and spiteful as you were from the time you could throw your first mud ball. You can talk to me anyway you want, but please show my future wife respect. She’s done nothing to you.”

  “Your future wife?” Dean stared at Leah, but the sparkle in the eyes flashed anger now. “You’re going to marry my brother?”

  Leah hesitated before nodding her head. “Jacob and I plan to be married one day, but nothing’s going to happen if I don’t get an explanation about what’s going on here.”

  “I’ll leave you to your little fairy tale,” Dean said. “You’ll find out soon enough that all is not what it seems here in Sunshine land. Beware of the serpents.”

  Dean turned and walked out the same door he’d entered a few minutes earlier when he’d captivated Leah so thoroughly. No wonder he looked familiar, Leah thought. He and Jacob were brothers. She ran to the door, ignoring her fiance’s plea to stay there. She needed to know more about Dean.

  She found him sitting on a motorcycle on the side lawn of the church used for Sunday morning parking overflow.

  “Where are you going?” Leah asked as she approached the bike where he straddled the engine. He was sitting back with his arms crossed over his chest. He rolled his eyes at her approach.

  “What do you care?” he asked. “You almost accepted my invitation for dinner back there. Why?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I was being tested.”

  “For what?”

  “For my love for Jacob. I wouldn’t have gone on a date with you.”

  “But you wanted to go with me.”

  “For a few seconds, yes, I did.”

  She walked closer to him. He grabbed her arm and pulled her close until his knee rested on her hip. He placed one arm around
her shoulders and put the other around her waist. He leaned so close to her, their lips almost touched as they stared into each other’s eyes. It happened so quickly that Leah didn’t have time to react. Now that they were touching, she couldn’t even think, let alone pull away from him.

  “It won’t take you long to find out what I learned at a very early age,” he said softly, his breath caressing her lips. “When you do find out, you’ll come running to me for more of this.”

  He leaned down until his lips touched hers, gently at first, but then he pushed with a hardness that made their teeth clink. Leah parted her lips further, allowing his tongue to enter. Their tongues acted as serpents slithering in and around their mouths. Leah put her arms on his chest and felt the hardness of his pecs. She started to push him away, but then she lost herself in the sensations of the kiss. They both kept their eyes open, as they stared deep into one another. The kiss lasted forever as they made love with their lips and tongues.

  She heard the sound of a horn from the street only yards away. It was enough to draw her back to reality. She pushed against his chest with the palms of her hand and pulled her head away from his.

  “I have to go back inside,” she said. “I can’t do this. I don’t know what happened.”

  “Have it your way,” Dean said. “I’m done with those people. But you go back to them. They lied to you about me; what else have they lied about?”

  “They’re good people. They took me in when I didn’t have any place else to go. Jacob will be a good husband and father to our children,” she said.

  “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out,” Dean said before he started the bike. “I’ll be sure to be a loving uncle to your brats.”

  The bike roared to life, and without even a wave, he was off and headed down the street away from her. She rubbed the back of her hand over her lips still tingling with the feel of his lips. What had gotten into her, she wondered as she turned and walked back to the hall. How could she have kissed someone she’d only met an hour earlier? She touched her lips again. Jacob never made her feel like she’d felt with Dean.

  As she attempted to wipe the memory of the kiss from her mind, she concentrated on what she must do next. She had to find out why the family felt it so important to kill Dean off, even though he lived just a few hours from the Sunshine Church.