“No,” she said aloud before her imagination carried her away. It wasn’t him. It was just the knowledge that he was back that had made her heart conjure up images.
The sun descended behind the trees after its last blinding burst of orange, and suddenly the man came into full view through the mirror—the beckoning mane of soft, dark hair, the determined set of full lips on a tanned face, the chain glistening more subtly against his neck. And as her punctured heart sank to her stomach, her eyes rose to the dark, riveting eyes that refused to let her go. Clint Jessup’s eyes.
Oh, dear God, I’m not ready for this. Physical danger she could bear, but Clint Jessup threatened something far worse.
Suddenly her driving became uninhibited, and her foot slammed against the accelerator. The sound and feel of metal sent a chill through her bones to rival the heat of the rage still consuming her.
As if he knew he’d been recognized, Clint’s teeth flashed between tight lips, and he sped up as well. His shoulders hunched forward as he clutched the steering wheel. Searching for another turnoff in hopes of getting back into the flow and security of heavy traffic, Sherry forced her eyes to stay on the road and away from the rearview mirror. But no sooner had she spotted a turnoff a mile up the deserted road than the heavy hum of his engine loomed up beside her.
Sherry kept her eyes off the vehicle trying to stop her, and remained intent on reaching the turnoff. But Clint had other plans. She heard his gears shift, heard the passenger in his car shouting at him, heard the squeal of his tires as he found a last burst of speed and screeched sideways in front of her. Stomping on her brakes, she steered to the shoulder of the road, skidding to a stop just short of hitting him.
The driver’s door of the Bronco slammed, and in seconds Clint was at her car. Before the thought of locking her door occurred to her, he was reaching for the handle, opening it, leaning inside. Sherry shoved him away and pushed out of the car, her lungs groping for air, her heart pounding. “Have you become a lunatic as well as a coward? Are you trying to kill us?”
Clint leaned against her car door to close it. The suggestion of a smile softened his lips, but his black eyes were serious as they took in the sight of her. “Hi, Sherry,” he said.
The mildness of his greeting rankled her, but somehow she couldn’t make herself get back in the car and drive away just yet. “What do you want, Clint?”
“I just wanted to see you. I tried to call, but I didn’t get very far with your roommate.”
Sherry slid her trembling fists into the pockets of her pants. “In the old days they used to knock on doors for that sort of thing, instead of running you down in the street.”
“You would have just slammed the door in my face,” Clint said. “I wanted to catch you before you got inside.”
Sherry turned away from his probing eyes and peered up the street, wishing she could turn back time a half hour and prepare herself for this encounter. “Next time you want to follow someone, Superman, you might be less conspicuous if you kept a few inches between bumpers.”
A slow, half-smile sauntered across Clint’s face, casting an angular shadow on the new, deep lines in his bronze skin. “And next time you get followed, Lois, you might avoid taking the most deserted street in the city.”
Sherry shrugged and reached past his hip to open her door. “Lesson learned. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Clint caught her shoulders and turned her to face him, his eyes narrow slashes squinting down at her. “I wanted to see you, Sherry, not teach you a lesson.”
Sherry stepped out of his hold and assessed him guardedly, fighting back the hope that told her to give him a chance. Reason left her for a fleeting moment, her eyes softened, and she mentally brushed his hair back as it eased over his face, mentally straightened the long, thin strand of gold as it looped from his neck where she had hung it months ago, mentally traced the tapering lines of his white shirt, the jeans that were worn and faded, the threadbare jogging shoes that he had never been able to part with as easily as he’d parted with her.
“Why did you move?” he asked. “I thought I’d never find you.” Sherry glanced away long enough to tighten her tenuous grip on her unstable emotions, then brought her eyes back to his, unblinking, as if the simple movement would shatter them. “I was all packed up with no place to go.”
His doleful gaze lowered to the pavement between them, and his throat convulsed. “I know I hurt you, running out like that before the wedding, but—”
“I survived,” she cut in, desperately wanting to be spared the excuses that had taken him eight months to manufacture. She already knew the reason he had left. When Madeline had called her this afternoon to tell her that Clint was back and that he had called, she’d said something about his being away working on a book he was writing. The very idea had enraged Sherry. He wasn’t a writer. He had never even mentioned a desire to write. He had been a youth minister before he’d skipped town. The flimsy, stupid excuse for his fleeing from commitment had added insult to injury.
“It was great to see you again, Clint,” she said in a saccharine voice as she reached for her door again. “Next time you see me on the street feel free to run me off the road for a nice little chat.” The door snapped open beneath her hand, but before she could step inside, Clint’s fingers clamped like iron cuffs around her arm.
Though his pressure would have swung her to face him, she deliberately kept her body turned toward the car. “I’m not finished with you, Sherry,” he said in a firm, determined voice as he set his other hand on her stiffening shoulder.
The touch shattered her facade and exposed the raw pain hidden beneath it. She clamped her teeth shut, grating out words that cut deeper with each syllable. “What do you want?”
“I want you back,” he said simply.
An almost hysterical laugh came from deep in her throat. Slowly, she turned to face him, carefully disengaging her arm from his grasp and narrowing her blue eyes to hide the pain lurking there. “It’s about eight months too late for that, Clint. I must admit, I didn’t expect you to work the freedom bug out of your system quite so soon, but—”
“It wasn’t the freedom bug, Sherry,” Clint interrupted impatiently. “You can’t believe I would have skipped out on the wedding without a really good reason.”
Sherry shook her head wearily and gazed off into the distance, the well of moisture in her eyes catching the light. “Clint, how should I put this? If you were kidnapped by savages and taken to some exotic island, and had to spend eight months swimming shark-infested waters to get back to me, it wouldn’t make any difference. It’s over. Dead. Can you understand that?”
His throat bobbed again, and he raised a finger to her chin, coaxing her face back to his in such a gentle way that she couldn’t resist looking at him. “I don’t believe you.”
Swallowing back the emotion blocking her throat, Sherry steadied her voice. “Fine, then, let’s test it. Were you kidnapped by savages and taken to some exotic island … ?” As she spoke, full tears sprang to her eyes, for she hadn’t realized until now how much she wished it were true.
“No,” he said. A deep, jagged breath tore from his lungs. “I can’t make you understand right now. I had to get away and—” “Write?” The word was flung as a challenge.
The lines in Clint’s face seemed etched deep with regret as he looked at the ground, then glanced toward the quiet man still sitting in the Bronco, the man Sherry had almost forgotten. The man leaned forward and nodded, as if giving him some silent signal. Clint’s eyes glossed over with despair as he brought them back to her. “Yeah,” he breathed out in a voice as dull as the sky in the wake of sunset. “I had to get away and write.”
Somehow the admission pierced her even more deeply than his disappearance had. “I’m sure the youth ministers of the world will appreciate the sacrifices you’ve made to record your amazing wellspring of knowledge. Too bad you’ve lost all your credibility now that you’ve left your youth group high an
d dry and dumped your all in one moment of panic.”
“Sherry, don’t do this,” he whispered. He touched her hair so lightly that she sensed more than felt it. “I’ve been through agony, and it’s not over yet.”
Sherry ducked her head away from his hand and slipped into the car. “Just think how much richer your writing will be after all that suffering,” she said, her voice cracking. She cranked her engine, but he leaned inside the car door, still not letting her go. “It’s not over, Sherry,” he said in a deep, desperate voice. “I’m not giving up on you. You’re gonna have to do one major convincing job to make me believe that you don’t care anymore.” Sherry stared at her trembling hands clutching the steering wheel as if it alone could anchor her to reality.
“I’m still crazy about you,” he whispered, his hand slipping through the dark fall of her hair to settle on her neck. “An hour hasn’t gone by that I haven’t thought of you.”
Sherry knew that somewhere within her there must be some reserve of strength. But for the life of her, she could not find it. Her eyes fluttered shut, absorbing the welling beads of moisture. She opened them again as his fingers began to knead her neck. “That’s very touching,” she whispered without inflection. Moving her head forward, she reached for his wrist and shoved his hand away from her neck. “Now if you’ll kindly move so I can shut my door …”
“I want to see you tonight.”
“No.”
“Why not?” he asked. “What are you afraid of?”
“My temper,” she said.
“I know that temper. I can deal with it.”
“I can’t,” she bit out, lips quivering. “It might land me in jail.” Her face reddened to back up the words, seething blood and storming emotions threatening to implode, leaving her their only victim, if she didn’t start driving.
“Then when can I see you?” The question was a pleading whisper against her face.
“Never. Now get away from my car.”
Clint opened his mouth to speak again, but only a frustrated breath escaped. “I’ll let you go now, but it’s not over by a long shot.”
Sherry slipped her car into reverse. “It’s your time, your energy. Waste it if you want.”
Slowly, Clint stepped back and allowed her to pull her door closed. He stood watching as she backed away from the Bronco’s barricade, then shifted into drive with a screech of rubber and went around it.
Numbness was something Sherry would have sold her soul for at that moment, for her heart ached enormously as she glanced back at him before making her turn. He was leaning against the Bronco as he stared after her. Quickly, she turned, leaving him behind, though the sight of him was inexorably drafted on her mind.
Blind Trust
Available at Christian bookstores.
(ISBN #: 0-310-20710-X)
Last Light
Terri Blackstock
Today, the world as you know it will end.
No need to turn off the lights.
Your car suddenly stalls and won’t restart.
You can’t call for help because your cell phone is dead.
Everyone around you is having the same problem …
and it’s just the tip of the iceberg.
Your city is in a blackout. Communication is cut off.
Hospital equipment won’t operate.
And airplanes are falling from the sky.
Is it a terrorist attack … or something far worse?
In the face of a crisis that sweeps an entire high-tech planet back to the age before electricity, Deni Branning’s career ambitions have vanished. She’s not about to let her dream of marriage go as well.
But keeping it alive will require extraordinary measures. Yesterday’s world is gone. All Deni and her family have left is each other and their neighbors. Their little community will either stand or fall together. But they’re only beginning to realize it—and trust doesn’t come easily.
Particularly when one of them is a killer.
Bestselling suspense author Terri Blackstock weaves a masterful what-if novel in which global catastrophe reveals the darkness in human hearts—and lights the way to restoration for a self-centered world.
Softcover: 0-310-25767-0
Emerald Windows
Terri Blackstock, #1
Bestselling Suspense Author
Ten years ago, devastated by an ugly scandal, Brooke Martin fled the small town of Hayden to pursue a career as a stained glass artist. Now Brooke has returned on business to discover that some things never change. Her spotted reputation remains. Tongues still wag. And that makes what should be her dream assignment tough.
Brooke has been hired to design new stained glass windows at Hayden Bible Church. The job is a career windfall. But Nick Marcello is overseeing the project, and some in the church think Nick and Brooke’s relationship is not entirely professional—and as before, there is no convincing those people otherwise.
In the face of mounting rumors, the two set out to produce the masterpiece Nick has conceived: a brilliant set of windows displaying God’s covenants in the Bible. For Brooke, it is more than a project—it is a journey toward faith. But opposition is heating up. A vicious battle of words and will is about to tax Brooke’s commitment to the limit. Only this time, she is determined not to run.
Softcover 0-310-22807-7
Pick up a copy today at your favorite bookstore!
Cape Refuge Series
This bestselling series follows the lives of the people of the small seaside community of Cape Refuge, as two sisters struggle to continue the ministry their parents began helping the troubled souls who come to Hanover House for solace.
Other favorites from Terri Blackstock …
Newpointe 911 Series
Pick up a copy today at your favorite bookstore!
More great books from Terri Blackstock
Sun Coast Chronicles
Pick up a copy today at your favorite bookstore!
Check out these great books from Terri Blackstock, too!
Second Chances Series
Pick up a copy today at your favorite bookstore!
Seaside
Terri Blackstock
Seaside is a novella of the heart—poignant, gentle, true, offering an eloquent reminder that life is too precious a gift to be unwrapped in haste.
Sarah Rivers has it all: successful husband, healthy kids, beautiful home, meaningful church work.
Corinne, Sarah’s sister, struggles to get by. From Web site development to jewelry sales, none of the pies she has her thumb stuck in contains a plum worth pulling.
No wonder Corinne envies Sarah. What she doesn’t know is how jealous Sarah is of her. And what neither of them realizes is how their frantic drive for achievement is speeding them headlong past the things that matter most in life.
So when their mother, Maggie, purchases plane tickets for them to join her in a vacation on the Gulf of Mexico, they almost decline the offer. But circumstances force the issue, and the sisters soon find themselves first thrown together, then ultimately drawn together, in one memorable week in a cabin called “Seaside.”
As Maggie, a professional photographer, sets out to capture on film the faces and moods of her daughters, more than film develops. A picture emerges of possibilities that come only by slowing down and savoring the simple treasures of the moment. It takes a mother’s love and honesty to teach her two daughters a wiser, uncluttered way of life—one that can bring peace to their hearts and healing to their relationship. And though the lesson comes on wings of grief, the sadness is tempered with faith, restoration, and a joy that comes from the hand of God.
Hardcover: 0-310-23318-6
Pick up a copy today at your favorite bookstore!
Bestselling books with Beverly LaHaye
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Soul Restoration
Terri Blackstock,
#1 Bestselling
Suspense Author
With beautiful, uplifting writing bestselling author Terri Blackstock speaks to those who are weary and in need of soul restoration. Newly written meditations and revisions to bestselling material from her novels, each of the devotions are filled with Scripture and encouragement. The perfect gift for a Terri Blackstock fan, this book is a wonderful way to introduce her writing to someone or to share the loving encouragement of Christ. It will surely touch people’s hearts.
Hardcover, Jacketed 0-310-80546-5
Pick up a copy today at your favorite bookstore!
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Second Chance - 02 - When Dreams Cross Page 20
