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

by Linda K. Rodante

  She heard the opposite door open and then nothing else. Had the tech gone out one way and come in another? When no other noise came, she forced her eyelids apart.

  John stood propped against the outer door, resting on his crutches. Her heart jolted, and relief swept through her.

  He hobbled into the room, maneuvering around the table and stopped close to her head. Their eyes met and held. She blinked back sudden tears.

  “Sharee.” His voice was hoarse, and he cleared his throat. “What happened? Why are you in X-ray?”

  Her stomach dropped. He didn’t know how she felt. For him, the walls between them still existed.

  “They’re x-raying my back. A second time.” She felt for his hand. “I…I’m glad you’re here.”

  “I’m sorry it took so long. I was at Bruce’s. He said he’d be in prayer for you.”

  “I think I need it.”

  The warm brown of his eyes darkened. “What happened to your back?”

  She waved her hand. “I don’t know really. John, I need to tell you—”

  The technician stepped into her line of vision. “You can talk with him in a couple minutes.”

  “But I—”

  “We have a few more X-rays.” The woman’s gaze settled on John. “Would you wait outside?”

  John shifted his crutches and lifted a brow. His mouth tightened. After a moment’s stand-off, the technician shrugged and walked to the other side of the bed.

  “Good decision,” he muttered.

  Sharee bit her lip, trying to keep a smile from her face. She loved him. Of course, she did. Where had the uncertainty come from? She reached for his hand again.

  “Don’t move.” The technician opened a drawer at the side of the gurney and pulled a weighted jacket from it. She handed it to John. “Put this on if you’re going to stay.”

  John took it and slipped his arms through it. Sharee’s hand fell, and silence stretched between them. She needed to tell him. The accident made no difference.

  “We’ve just got a couple more.” The technician stretched across and moved Sharee’s leg.

  Sharee sucked in a quick audible breath, and John’s hand shot out for hers. The tech brushed it aside.

  “She’s okay.” The woman shoved a rubber wedge under Sharee’s leg. “I’m sorry. I know it hurts, but we’re almost finished.”

  John’s face tightened. He set his crutches against the gurney and crossed his arms over his chest.

  The tech finished adjusting the equipment. “Please don’t move.” She headed for the back door.

  John inclined his head. “Your back? What about your back?”

  “There’s pain when I move.”

  “Why is she moving you then?”

  “I guess she knows what she’s doing. They took X-rays earlier. The doctor re-ordered them. I don’t know if something was wrong or if he wants different pictures, or what. They did other tests for my head.”

  His frown returned. “Why?”

  “They think I have a concussion. I blacked out for a while, and I can’t move my head without setting off an electric current.”

  “An electric current?”

  “Of pain.” She studied him for a minute. “Will you come closer?”

  He leaned forward.

  The technician swung the door open and walked to the bedside. She spent a few moments removing the plates. “I’ll develop these then we’ll see.”

  When the tech left, John leaned forward again. “Alan said you were run over. That you told him it wasn’t an accident.”

  “I…yes. I’m sure it wasn’t.” But she didn’t want to talk about that.

  “Can you tell me what happened?”

  She shot a glance at the ceiling, back at him, and then rattled off what she remembered. “But, I need to tell you—”

  “Did you see the make of the car?”

  She shook her head; and pain exploded inside her skull. She snapped her eyes shut and clenched her teeth. Tears rose, pooled, and drained down the sides of her face.

  John’s hand caught hers. “What can I do?”

  She couldn’t answer, couldn’t open her eyes.

  He prayed under his breath, and his voice rolled over her, the words massaging, soothing, penetrating. In a minute, the stabbing pain began to subside. Thank you, Jesus.

  When at last she opened her eyes, the concern in his eyes stroked her heart.

  The tech swept into the room. “We need to re-do one of these.”

  John’s head twisted in her direction, and his mouth thinned. Sharee groaned.

  “I’m sorry it’s taken awhile. We only have two more.” She moved to the equipment again. “Please stay the way you are and don’t move.”

  Just as the technician disappeared through the side door, someone swung the hall door open. “Sharee Jones?”

  “Yes?”

  A man in a pair of scrubs stepped into her view. “Your parents are here.”

  “My parents?” The words squeaked from her throat.

  “Yes, in the ER, looking for you. Your mother was quite agitated not to be on the HIPPA forms. She’s making rather a scene. Do you want to see her or to have her on the disclosure forms?”

  “But how did they know I was here?”

  John squeezed her shoulder. “I assumed you’d want them to know, so I called them on the way.” He turned toward the clock on the other wall. “I spent quite a while trying to find you. They wouldn’t give me any information here. Your parents must have left Orlando right after I called.”

  She hadn’t thought of them. When they’d asked to whom they could give updates on her status, she’d given John’s name.

  A line formed between John’s brows. “You didn’t put them on the release forms?”

  “No, I…” She stopped a moment. “I put you.”

  “Me?” His eyes widened. “I never thought to ask. It would have made things easier.”

  “I’m sorry, I—” She’d thought only of him.

  “Was I out of line calling them?”

  “No. No, of course not. I forgot.”

  “Would you like me to see them?”

  She sighed. Would she ever get to talk with him? “Yes. Thank you. They’ll worry.”

  “Good.” The other man turned and headed out.

  John glanced at the technician who had reappeared. His eyes narrowed.

  “I’ll be fine, John.” She glanced at his crutches. “Is it a long way?”

  “No.” He removed the x-ray jacket and set it at the foot of the gurney, shooting one more glance at the X-ray technician. “I’ll be back soon.” Propping the crutches under his arms, he made his way out the door.

  Sharee stared at the closed door. His protectiveness wrapped her like a warm blanket.

  “Look,” the tech said, “we need one more to finish this. Hopefully, before he gets back. Roll forward a little.” She adjusted the wedge under Sharee’s leg. “Is that your husband? He doesn’t like seeing you in pain, does he?”

  Husband. Sharee mulled that around in her head, smiling. Not yet, but if she could talk to him, they’d be a step closer. If she could talk to him.

  ***

  Heading back toward the emergency room entrance, John wrestled with the anger inside him. After the hospital personnel and their continued reference to the HIPPA laws—he’d never thought to ask if he was on the release forms—he’d been forced to hobble through the halls to find Sharee, and the X-ray technician had found his last nerve.

  He swallowed and forced himself to concentrate on the important issue—someone had run her down. On purpose. His hands squeezed the bars on either side of the crutches, and flames shot bright and hot inside him. He’d already lost one person he loved; he wasn’t going to lose another.

  But who’d want to hurt her? Or both of them? It made no sense. And would they try again? How could he to protect her? He’d stay in the hospital with her, if she’d let him; but after that, what?

  He slowed his pac
e and took a deep breath. His eyes went heavenward. God hadn’t left them. They’d both been hurt, but they were alive. Since he’d re-surrendered his life to God six months earlier and gone on the month-long mission trip, he should have expected some kind of attack. He didn’t know what was happening, but God was with them. Relief freed the knot in his stomach.

  He shifted the crutches and made his way to the emergency room. Her parents rose when he came through the door, and her mother rushed forward spraying questions at him. Her dad asked about his crutches. John managed a short explanation of his accident as he waved them back to their chairs and sat beside them.

  Sharee’s mom started again with a scatter-shot of questions, but her dad—first name Brian, John remembered—remained quiet now. Somewhere within the explanation of Sharee’s accident, he decided to withhold the information that the incidents were intentional. Sharee had referred to her mother as a teddy bear, but that didn’t quite fit. More like an uptight cat. He’d get Brian alone later and explain.

  When her mother paused for breath, he leaned back in the chair. “I’ll stay with her tonight. The care in the X-ray room was not the best, and I’d rather be with her if she needs anything.”

  Her mother sat forward. “I intended to do that myself.”

  Of course, that made sense, but it wasn’t happening. Sharee needed protection until they knew more, but he’d keep that information to himself for now. “I’m sure Sharee would want you to bunk at her place. I’ll do fine here.”

  “I’d rather be with my daughter than ‘bunk’ anywhere.”

  Her tone caught him by surprise. The hospital personnel said she’d caused some commotion. Maybe her adrenalin was running high.

  “I know you’re concerned. I am, too, which is why I’ve decided to stay.”

  Her mom pushed her shoulders back. The teddy bear morphed into a grizzly. “You’ve decided, have you? Well, I think she’d rather have her mother.”

  John met her father’s look before replying. “When she comes home, Mrs. Jones, she’ll need you. You don’t want to be worn out from sitting in a chair all night.” And he’d make sure Sharee had decent locks and an alarm system in that apartment she called home.

  “Oh, I don’t? And just when did you start making decisions for her?”

  Brian put a hand on her shoulder. “If the man wants to stay—”

  “I do.” John saw the instant fire in her mother’s eyes and decided to end the argument. “In fact, I insist.”

  “Insist?” Her voice rose. “Insist? I will not have some man spending the night with my daughter. She needs her mother.”

  Some man? He gritted his teeth. “She’s in the hospital, not a motel. You—”

  “I should hope not!”

  A couple sitting close by looked their way. John wanted to roll his eyes like Sharee did sometimes. He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Look, there’s nothing improper about this. She’s going to be my wife, and—”

  “Your wife? What do you mean she’s going to be your wife?”

  His gaze ricocheted from her mom to her dad and back. Great. Where had that come from? “I’ve asked her to marry me.” That was the truth, at least.

  Her father sat forward. “You—”

  “You’re engaged?” Mrs. Jones voice overrode her husband’s. “But…When did this happen? Why hasn’t Sharee told us?”

  Other people stopped their conversations and looked their way. Sharee’s dad put a hand on his wife’s arm. “Marilyn, calm down. Sit back and relax.”

  Had he made a bad situation worse? Should he let them believe that lie? If so, he’d need to tell Sharee soon. If she found out before he could explain, what would she think? Or say?

  Sputtering, Mrs. Jones glared at John and clutched her purse in balled fists. “I still think—”

  Brian made a movement with his hand. “Marilyn, we are not arguing this anymore. John wants to stay with her. They’re engaged, and Sharee called him. I’m sure John can get a nurse if needed just as easily as you can.”

  His wife glowered at him then her shoulders sagged. “I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

  “As I do,” John said. Relief flooded him. A flicker of amusement rose. Sharee had inherited more than just petiteness and good looks from her mother. He nodded a thank you to her dad. “I will make sure they take good care of her.”

  He stood and grabbed his crutches. “She was in X-ray when I left. Let me go see what room they’re putting her in, and I’ll call down here or come get you.”

  Her mom would have protested again, but her husband’s agreement stopped it. John headed back through the labyrinth of hallways.

  The thoughts mounted and multiplied inside his head. Her mother couldn’t protect her. He could. He needed to be there. His steps slowed, and he stopped in the middle of the corridor.

  Don’t lie to yourself, too, Jergenson. You want her safe, but it’s more than that. You want to be with her. The week without her had proved long and painful. Had he been crazy to think of their life together? A moment later, though, he moved to the other problem. The accidents. They needed to put their heads together and see if they could make sense of what had happened.

  Two people went by him, talking and laughing. He hauled his mind back to real time, adjusted the crutches and started down the corridor again.

  They had just moved her into a private room. The attendant left after adjusting the bed.

  He leaned forward to draw a thumb down her cheek and stopped. Staying detached could prove hard. “How are you feeling?”

  Her eyes showed the strain of the night. “If I don’t move, my head’s okay.”

  “Good. Don’t move.”

  “Oh. Gee. Thanks.”

  He smiled at her sarcasm. “Just wanted to help. Anything else?”

  “My back feels out of place, and I have this strange numbing and tingling sensation crawling down my left leg.”

  “Sounds like sciatica. Anything else?”

  “My hip and leg feel bruised—and my backside, too.”

  He grinned. “Want me to check?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Is that the kind of help you’re going to be?”

  “Whatever you need, babe.”

  Her face relaxed, and her eyes warmed. He shifted the crutches and bent over her. The door swung open, and a man in a white coat crossed the room to her bedside.

  “I’m Dr. Fernandez.”

  John straightened and stepped back. He’d almost kissed her. Are you crazy, Jergenson? She’s hurt and in pain. She needs you right now. At the end of this, she could still tell you to find someone else to trek through the jungles with. He swallowed and shook hands with the doctor.

  “John Jergenson.”

  The doctor nodded then turned to Sharee. “I’ll be handling your case. It’s been a long night, but we have some good news. First, no major injuries. Nothing life threatening. You have a herniated disc in your lower back, and you have a concussion. I am ordering more tests for that. I think it’s mild; but since you lost consciousness, I want to make sure. We’ll keep you here for another day or two. You have any questions?”

  “Not that I can think of right now.”

  “Okay. Are you in pain?”

  “Yes, some.”

  “I’ll prescribe something. Take it if you need it.”

  Pale morning light sifted through the curtains as the doctor left. When the door closed behind him, John’s shoulders relaxed. Maybe they’d have a few minutes to talk. Before he completed the thought, the door swung wide again. A woman in hospital scrubs entered.

  He waited, fingers drumming against the windowsill.

  The nurse checked her IV and the monitors. “The doctor prescribed some pain medication. I’ll get that and be back in a minute.”

  Before she left another woman entered. John clenched his jaw. Would the parade never end? The other woman spent time going over what Sharee could or couldn’t do, the procedure for ordering dinner, and how to work
her bed. She pulled up the railings. The RN returned with two pills.

  John relaxed as she swallowed the pills. He’d noticed the tightness in her face and her continual shifting to get comfortable. She’d feel better soon.

  Both women left.

  Good.

  Sharee’s eyes closed, and John hesitated. Her look of exhaustion halted his questions. Across the room, the door eased open again.

  A policeman stepped into the room. “Ms. Jones?”

  Sharee opened her eyes. “Yes?”

  “I need to get some information from you.”

  “Okay.”

  The officer took down her statement, and then listened to John’s description of his own accident and his idea that the incidents might be related.

  “Did you report this?”

  “No. At the time, I tried to pass it off. But with Sharee’s accident…”

  “Do you know anyone who would want to run you both down? Do you have any enemies?”

  John’s head turned toward Sharee, but her eyes had closed again. “Not that we’re aware of.”

  “Did you notice the type of car or who was driving the car that sideswiped you?”

  “No, and for the same reason. The lights were in my eyes.”

  The officer’s brows drew together. “Are you planning to sue your buildings’ owners?”

  Sharee stirred in the bed. “Why would we do that?”

  “Some people might.”

  John leaned forward. “We’re not those people.”

  “Okay.” He closed the small book he’d written in and pocketed it. “We’ll check this out. See if any of your neighbors saw anything.” He left a minute later.

  “Does he think we’re sue-happy?” Sharee moaned. “Like we planned the accidents. Is that how you felt?”

  He pushed some stray curls from her face. No, he couldn’t keep his hands off her. “Yeah, somewhat. Don’t worry about it. They’re paid to be suspicious.”

  Her eyes, big with pain, caught his and held. Something stirred inside him. He swallowed, moved back from the bed and crossed his arms over his chest. Don’t read too much into it. She’s hurt and vulnerable. Everything he wanted to talk about disappeared. They stared at each other for a long time. When she reached out, he took her hand and enfolded it in his.