As Long As You Both Shall Live: A Christian Contemporary Romance with Suspense (Dangerous Series Book 2)

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As Long As You Both Shall Live: A Christian Contemporary Romance with Suspense (Dangerous Series Book 2) Page 1

by Linda K. Rodante




  As Long As You Both Shall Live

  A Christian Contemporary Romance

  with Suspense

  Linda K. Rodante

  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.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Preview of Splashdown

  About the Author

  Copyright

  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, they’d 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 spend 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 fishtails 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 into 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 an
ointing, the presence of God seems 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 and checked 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.”

  Chapter 2

  Every muscle froze. The phone threatened to slip, and her other hand shot up to catch it.

  “An accident?”

  “An automobile accident. Daneen and I are at the hospital. They’re taking x-rays. Do you want to come down?”

  “All right.” The cold spread from core muscles to the rest of her body. Her fault. It was her fault. He’d been distracted, torn by her answer to his proposal.

  “Which hospital?” she asked.

  “Intercoastal. You know where it is?”

  “Yes. Is he…” Fear stopped her. Why did they need x-rays? “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “Sharee, it’s not life threatening.”

  Not life threatening. Her heart jerked. She took a deep breath. “All right. Thank you.”

  “You want Daneen to come get you?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  Not as fine as she wanted him to think. Her hands tightened on the wheel, and she made another quick turn. The silence of the dark car filled her with self-recrimination. She’d prayed for his safety while he worked and ministered in Indonesia, and, yet, within hours of returning home, he’d had an accident.

  Ten minutes later, the lights of the hospital were in front of her. The hospital sign swept past. She parked and hurried across the parking lot. Between the buildings, the inky blackness of the Intercoastal Waterway caught the streetlights’ glow.

  Thrusting open the double doors, she hurried inside. Light stabbed her eyes, and she squinted toward the waiting room. Pastor Alan and Daneen rose from their chairs.

  The pastor’s wife hastened forward to embrace her. The women stood for a moment, their heads together. Sharee drew back to search Daneen’s eyes.

  The other woman met her look. “He’s got some cuts and bruises, maybe a twisted ankle, but Alan thinks he’s okay. They’re checking him over, doing some x-rays.” Daneen’s short, blonde hair bobbed as if to emphasize the words she said.

  The wash of relief almost buckled Sharee’s legs. The dark presence hovering around her on the drive over had spoken of head injuries or back problems or broken bones. But he would be okay. Thank you, Lord.

  “Come sit down.” Pastor Alan waved to the empty chairs near them. They moved over to the seats. “The hospital called about forty minutes ago. John gave them our number. They said he would need a ride home.” There was a slight question in his tone, and Sharee noticed his quick scrutiny of her red-rimmed eyes. “He was getting out of his truck at his complex, and someone didn’t see him and hit him. But the driver took off. A neighbor came to help and called the ambulance. He was here for a while before he called us.”

  “What did they say?”

  “They’re doing tests. I saw him for a moment. He was scraped up, but didn’t look bad. The car sideswiped him as he was crossing the parking lot.”

  Sharee bowed her head. “Thank you.” She directed the words upward and fought back tears.

  “Hey.” Pastor Alan touched her shoulder. “He’s going to be fine.”

  She swallowed past the pain in her throat. “I thought it was my fault. That he was distracted.” She hesitated a moment. “He asked me to marry him. I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t expecting it. Not now, anyway.” Her eyes went from one to the other. “And I’m not sure. Since John left, I began to wonder. What if this is wrong? I missed
God before. I could miss Him again. And I’ve been getting weird phone calls. It’s just made things…hard.”

  “What kind of calls?” Daneen asked.

  “The kind where no one says anything.”

  The pastor’s wife’s brow puckered. “How long has this been going on?”

  “Almost since John left.”

  “Do you have any idea who it is?”

  “No.”

  “Your work? Any of your clients?”

  Sharee frowned. She couldn’t see the homeless clients she worked with doing this. “I don’t think so.”

  “Some have cell phones.”

  “Yes, but I…I don’t think they’d take the time or keep it up this long.”

  Daneen’s arm slipped around her shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

  Sharee shrugged. “It was just once or twice at first. But this last week, it got crazy. I…I stopped answering my phone unless I knew who it was.”

  “Did you write the number down?”

  “I did, but it changed. In fact, it changed more than once.”

  “You don’t think it could be one of the youth, do you?”

  “No. I haven’t taught any of their classes for a while, so I’m off their radar. I think.”

  Daneen gave her another squeeze. “Well, the accident was not your fault. And marriage is a lifetime commitment or should be. So, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to make sure before you say, ‘yes.’ John should have waited. He might have thought a lot about it while he was gone, but to pop the question the day he gets home…” She shook her head.

  Sharee caught movement behind Daneen, and she looked past the woman’s shoulder. John stood, on crutches, in the doorway to the back rooms of the emergency area. He leaned forward and said something to a nurse who sat at the desk there. A long bandage covered the lower part of his left arm. His jeans on his right leg were split halfway up his calf, and another bandage covered his foot and ankle.

  She jumped to her feet, taking two steps towards him, before halting. His eyes rose, and everything about him stilled as their gazes met. His shoulders straightened, and he turned back to the nurse.

 

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