The Damaged Heroes Collection [Box Set #1: The Damaged Heroes Collection] (BookStrand Publishing Mainstream)

by James, Sandy

  Things suddenly made sense. This girl had to belong to Joshua Miller. The blue-gray eyes were so much like his, the face the same round shape. And the girl’s spiked hair was the exact color of the reporter. That meant Joshua was somehow involved in this whole situation. He’d been there when Sarah had healed the little epileptic girl.

  Oh, yes. Joshua Miller was somehow involved in this whole mess.

  Sarah finally nodded, entirely grateful to see no aura around the girl. She wasn’t going to have to heal her, which brushed aside Sarah’s first assumption that Josh had brought her here to heal one of his family members. Of course, he’d never told her about his family. Especially about the member who had died, the one who still haunted him. “Where am I?”

  The girl smiled, the beautiful grin revealing yet again how much she resembled Josh. “Pop wants to tell you himself.” She cautiously came the rest of the way into the room, and Sarah saw the ceramic mug she cradled in her hand.

  “Is that coffee?” Sarah asked, nodding toward the cup. She hoped it was because she needed something to wake her up and clear her head. Things were just a bit too surreal at the moment.

  The girl nodded. “Pop said you’d probably like some. I put in sugar. And there’s cream in it too, but it’s just the powdered stuff. He went into town for supplies. All we’ve got is what’s in the pantry.”

  Sarah nodded and took the offering. “Thank you.” She took a cautious sip. “It’s good. What’s your name?”

  “I’m Libby. Your name’s Sarah, right?”

  Sarah nodded. “Libby? Short for...?”

  “Elizabeth,” the girl replied with a sweet smile.

  “Is Joshua Miller your father?” Holding the coffee so it wouldn’t slosh around, Sarah swung her legs over the side of the bed. She was still dressed in the pink skirt which was now so wrinkled, she doubted an iron would even help. A quick appraisal told her the rest of her clothes were in the same sorry state.

  “Yeah. I’m his only brat. He should be back soon. Do you wanna come downstairs?”

  Josh had a daughter. Was she the extent of his family? “Downstairs? There’s a downstairs? I don’t have a clue where I am. Is this your house?”

  Libby shook her head. “Nah. It belongs to the whole family. A ‘legacy,’ Pop always says. A family heirloom. The first of the Miller clan lived here back in the 1800s. Now we all use it for vacations. Or when we need some peace and quiet.”

  “Well, that clears up who lived here, but not where here is,” Sarah said. “Did your father kidnap me?”

  Libby actually chuckled. “Like I said, Pop wants to explain it to you.” Intense blue eyes stared holes through Sarah. “Can you really heal people? You know, make their illnesses disappear?”

  Sarah nodded. “Did you think I couldn’t?”

  “Pop didn’t believe you. He thought you were a thief.”

  Gee, that was blunt. She was truly Josh Miller’s daughter. “And he doesn’t now?”

  Libby shook her head. “He wouldn’t have gone to get you if he didn’t believe you or if he still thought you stole from people.”

  She came to stand next to Sarah, and in what appeared to be a well-practiced action, reached under Sarah’s arm to help her to her feet. Libby had obviously cared for someone frail. The thought a girl that young had suffered through the serious illness of someone she loved pinched Sarah’s heart, forging an instant bond between her and Libby, much like the bond Sarah felt after she healed someone. There always remained a handprint left behind on her heart.

  “Thank you,” Sarah said with a nod as she allowed her shaky legs to adjust to bearing her weight. She was pleased to realize she might be weak, but she’d obviously had more rest than normal because after a quick moment, she felt almost steady on her feet. And the precious coffee hadn’t spilled. After a short time, she felt strong enough to walk. “Lead on downstairs, Miss Elizabeth.”

  Libby stopped and cocked her head. “Why’d you call me that?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t...really know. It just sounded right.”

  “You’re like my cousin Laurie. She always picks up on stuff like that.”

  “I don’t understand,” Sarah said.

  “‘Miss Elizabeth.’ That’s what Pop always calls me. It’s kinda funny you’d call me that too. My cousin Laurie always seems to just...know stuff like that too. She’s an empath. Are you?”

  “Me? An empath?” Sarah shook her head. She wanted to doubt the reality of a person reading another’s emotions until she remembered what she was and how people were skeptical of her abilities.

  “Laurie believes you too. Laurie, my cousin.”

  “She does? The name doesn’t ring a bell. Did I heal her?” Sarah didn’t trust her memory very much, but an empath? She would remember healing an empath. While she didn’t actually read the minds of people she healed, her thoughts mingled with theirs just as soon as she laid hands on them. Sort of a mind-meld, she figured. Like a Vulcan on Star Trek. If Sarah had been inside the mind of an empath, she would remember.

  “Laurie’s never been sick, so I’m sure you didn’t.” Libby crooked her finger. “C’mon. Let’s go downstairs.”

  Libby practically skipped ahead of her, and Sarah envied her youthful energy. It had been so long since she’d felt that giddy, that full of life. Not since... Well, not since Charlie died. And not since that day on the roof of that damned parking garage when a bolt of lightning had changed her life.

  “This is the neat place.” Libby nodded at an enormous room with a huge stone fireplace. “I like it in the winter when the fire’s burning. We sit around the fireplace and drink hot chocolate.”

  “Is this some kind of lodge? It’s too big to be a home.” Sarah wondered where they had found such a beautiful, rustic place in Indianapolis. “Is this Carmel? Geist Reservoir maybe?”

  Libby shook her head. “I don’t even know where those are.”

  “Indianapolis. Aren’t we in Indy?” This was getting confusing, and Sarah wasn’t sure she had enough patience for playing “Twenty Questions.” She wanted to know where she was and how she came to be here.

  Looking a little guilty as she stared at her boots, Libby shook her head. “Pop wants to—”

  Sarah interrupted with a wave of her hand. “I know, I know. He wants to tell me.” Instead of stewing over the situation, she took in the atmosphere as she nursed her coffee.

  The place was beautiful. A black bearskin hung above the fireplace where several ancient guns were also mounted. She would have still figured they’d come to some lodge if Libby hadn’t insisted it was a family house. How did I get here? Why was she with Joshua’s daughter? Better yet, why was she with Joshua?

  Having some immediate needs, Sarah put her now empty mug on a coaster sitting on a rough-hewn end table. “Where’s the closest bathroom?”

  “Under the stairs if you have to pee,” Libby said, pointing that direction, “but not if you want to shower. That one’s upstairs across the hall from your bedroom. There’s a really cool tub in there. One of those huge, old tubs with the claw feet. I love to sit and soak in it ‘cause I can sink down all the way up to my chin.”

  “I’d love a shower, but I don’t have anything to change into,” Sarah replied, hating the idea of being stuck in her wrinkled disaster of an outfit for too awfully long. If Josh was going kidnap her, the least he could have done was be considerate enough to grab some of her clothes.

  “No problemo,” Libby replied. “There’s always something around here, and in almost every size.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Cousins. We’ve got sooo many cousins.” An exaggerated roll of Libby’s eyes emphasized her point. “All shapes and sizes. And they always leave some of their stuff behind.” She led the way to the stairs. “We all know that whatever gets left behind is fair game. Let’s find something you like.” Her gaze scanned Sarah. “You’re awfully little compared to us Millers. We tend to grow ‘em taller and heavier.” Libby
stood next to Sarah and smiled. “I’m already taller than you are.”

  Sarah chuckled, entirely used to looking up at most people. Another year and Libby would be one of those tall individuals. “You and the rest of the world.”

  “C’mon. I’m sure we’ll find something that’ll work.”

  * * * *

  Libby hadn’t been lying. Stepping out of the shower, Sarah glanced at the clean clothes that sat waiting for her on the closed toilet seat. There had been more than enough to choose from, including clean underwear and socks. Unfortunately, all the bras had been too big or too little. Sarah felt like Goldilocks. Evidently her boobs were “just right,” but not for any Miller family bras.

  After toweling herself dry, she wrapped the enormous towel around her body, tucking the end in to hold it over her breasts. She dropped the towel she’d wrapped around her head on the vanity counter and found a brush in the first drawer she opened.

  As Sarah brushed her damp hair, staring at her sallow reflection in the foggy mirror, she was more than ready to have this out with Josh. She’d taken a couple of long looks out the window of the bedroom while Libby had gone on a scavenger hunt for the right sized clothing. The view was breathtaking. Pines and grass as far as the eye could see, which seemed pretty far, judging from the mountains looming in the distance. There sure weren’t hills like that in Indiana. Not even in Brown County. Sarah assumed she’d been taken out of Indianapolis and was now someplace a little further...west. Just how long had she been asleep?

  Surely Josh hadn’t carried her passed out like some drunk onto a commercial airliner. Didn’t you need a photo ID to fly nowadays? And she knew she’d slept a long time because she felt better rested than she had in ages. But how far could they drive in ten hours? Not close enough to see mountains like that.

  There was a soft knock on the door. Tucking the towel a little tighter, Sarah answered it. A very contrite looking Joshua Miller greeted her. Hands braced against the door’s frame, arms spread wide, his head hung down like a sad hound dog. Then he glanced up and showed her a nervous smile, clearly hoping she wasn’t angry. She wasn’t letting him off the hook that easy.

  “I see Libby helped you find some clothes.” He nodded toward the pile still resting on the toilet seat.

  All Sarah gave him was a curt nod. She wished for a moment she had the empathic ability Libby bragged her cousin enjoyed. Because right now, Sarah wanted to know exactly what was going through his mind. This was a high stakes poker game, and he had pasted on his game face.

  “And you found the shampoo and the towels.” He nodded at her terrycloth cocoon.

  She noticed it took his gaze a few long moments to find the way from her breasts to her eyes. Her blood instantly warmed at the notion he might be attracted to the sight of her in only a towel. Then she pushed that notion aside and remembered she was mad at him. Sarah just stared at him, hoping he could feel how perturbed she was.

  Josh sighed then frowned. “You’re mad at me.”

  “Really? How astute. But then again, you’re a reporter. I should have expected it. What gave you the first clue?”

  “Probably the steam coming out of your ears.”

  Josh knew he shouldn’t be surprised she was angry. He’d held out some unrealistic hope that she would appreciate all he’d gone through to help her. Her irritation at waking up in a strange place still clung to her. Being greeted by a teenager she wouldn’t recognize probably didn’t help the situation. And he figured one look out the window of her bedroom had told her she wasn’t in the Hoosier state any longer.

  “Why did you kidnap me?” Sarah finally asked, narrowing her eyes. “I have people waiting for me to—”

  “To put you in your grave.” He splayed his fingers through his hair, trying to hold back his exasperation at what he’d watched just the day before. “God, Sarah. You should have seen what you looked like after you healed that little girl. Death warmed over. I was so afraid. I couldn’t lose... I had to get you out of there.”

  “So you decided to kidnap me.” A statement, not a question. She folded her arms over the tempting swell of her breasts and continued to glare at him with those beautiful eyes. Her anger had darkened the hazel to amber the same way sunlight could tint her eyes to green. He’d never seen anything sexier than Sarah wrapped in that towel, frown or no frown, and he had to fight an overpowering urge to reach out, pull her into his arms, and kiss her senseless. He could almost taste her lips, as sweet as they’d been back in the park the first time he’d kissed her.

  “I didn’t kidnap you.”

  She started tapping her dainty little foot against the tile. Even her toes were sexy.

  “Okay, so maybe I did. Someone needed to look out for you, and Hannah and that parrot of a husband of hers sure weren’t doing a good job of it.”

  Was that a twitch on the corner of her lips that might have become a smile had she not been so angry? He couldn’t help but smile in response, hoping he’d said something to soothe her. The twitch disappeared. The frown remained.

  Sarah strode back to stand in front of the mirror and brush her hair— more like attack it, judging from how hard she stroked. Josh followed her inside the bathroom, not really caring that it was an intrusion. He needed her to understand. He’d done this for her own good. If she didn’t stop this nonsense, she was going to kill herself. Standing behind her, he put his hands on her shoulders. The touch sent a shock wave through him.

  Soft. Damn, was her skin soft. Her hair smelled like flowers, and he wanted to bury his nose and hands in the damp, blond strands. His body responded to Sarah’s nearness before he even had a chance to try to control it. She stared back at him, wide-eyed in the mirror. Her hand holding the now still brush trembled. The touch had affected her, too.

  Josh dropped his hands to his side, taking some smug satisfaction in her rattled reaction. The moment was happily tucked away in his memory to be savored and pondered later. He turned back to the topic. “Look, I know you’re mad. But, damn it, Sarah, you couldn’t keep...doing that. It’s killing you.”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “You’re right. It’s not. But I want it to be.”

  Could those gorgeous eyes get any larger? But she didn’t say a word in response.

  “I’ve... I’m...” Shit. Why did he suddenly feel like some eighth-grader asking his latest crush to go steady? “I care about you.”

  She seemed to consider his words for a moment, and he studied her reaction carefully, using a journalist’s eye to gauge what went through her mind. Her eyes told him he’d surprised her. But as her gaze softened, they also told him he’d pleased her.

  Glancing down at the towel she wore, Sarah sighed. “I’d like to get dressed now.”

  Josh couldn’t make himself move away from her. That ivory skin begged to be caressed. Those pink lips begged to be kissed. Those perfect breasts begged to be—

  “If you don’t mind,” she said, rudely interrupting his erotic daydream.

  Hell, yeah, he minded. In fact, what he really wanted was to see what hid under that frustrating terrycloth. Desire washed over him in waves, stronger than he ever remembered feeling before.

  Josh couldn’t stop staring at her in that mirror. Every instinct told him to grab her, turn her, and kiss her. He wanted her. More than was probably wise. Sarah had reached him. She’d reached him when he’d thought he had nothing left inside him to reach.

  Sarah slammed the brush down on the counter. “You can leave now.”

  Her brisk dismissal ruffled his feathers. Perhaps she hadn’t been quite as pleased with his declaration of caring as he’d figured. Of course, she had no clue how much letting those words fall from his mouth had drained him mentally and had forced Josh to leave a big part of his past behind.

  He wasn’t supposed to fall in love again. Not after Miranda. She’d been his wife, his mate. There shouldn’t be another match in the world for him. No one else should be able to make his hear
t skip a quick beat every time he saw her. No one else should make him want to run his fingers through her hair and kiss her sweet lips. No one else should make him want to explore every hill and valley of that lovely little body.

  No one was supposed to replace Miranda.

  But Sarah wasn’t replacing Miranda. Josh hadn’t been looking for someone to fill a gap or plug a hole in his life. They were different women, different people who had each touched him in her own way.

  The time had come to embrace life again. And right now, Josh realized, despite all common sense and her obvious reticence, he wanted his life to include Sarah Reid. Convincing her of the idea would be difficult. She had no reason to trust him, no reason to think he was anything other than a skeptical reporter or, worse, a kidnapper.

  Slow, Joshua. Take it slow. “Have you had any breakfast? Did Libby get you something to eat?” He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost time for lunch, if you don’t count the time change.”

  “Time change?” She still glared back at him from the mirror. Then she shook her head. “No,” Sarah finally replied. “Nothing to eat yet.”

  Clapping his hands and rubbing them together in anticipation, Josh said, “Then I’m gonna go down and make you one of my famous omelets. Ham, cheese, peppers. The works. Anything in particular you’d like?”

  “I’d like to eat it in Indianapolis.”

  He chuckled and was pleased to see a hesitant smile on her lips. “Touché. I’ll take you home. Just not ‘til you’re rested and well. And not until you give up this ridiculous healing.”

  And not until I can make you fall in love with me.

  Josh left the bathroom before Sarah could give him the argument he saw clearly in her eyes.

  Chapter 9

  The man could really cook.

  She considered that an admirable quality. She hated cooking, and it had been easy to let Hannah take over the chore when she’d realized what she could do with her gift. Once Sarah started healing people, the practice hadn’t exactly given her any free time to learn culinary skills. Not that she’d wanted to anyway.