by Laura Scott
“She’s on her way.” Mallory stared at him for a long moment, her gaze full of hurt.
He needed to get out of here, and soon, or he’d change his mind. Time to let Mallory go, so she could move on with her life.
“I better get back to my room,” he said finally. He had to drop her hand so he could hold on to his injured side as he stood. “The nurses warned me that I need to keep this chest tube hooked up to suction until tomorrow.”
“I understand,” she murmured, although her puzzled expression tore his heart. He clamped his jaw shut and pushed the IV pole toward the door.
“Jonah?” she called out, stopping him before he could open the door.
Steeling his resolve, he turned back to her. “Yes?”
“Thanks for showing me the way to our Lord,” she said humbly. “Believing in Him has helped me work through my past. I never trusted men, but I want you to know I trust you. I trust that someday, you’ll come back to see me. And I want you to know I’ll be waiting for you. Because I love you.”
He stared at her, feeling as if she’d sucker punched him in the gut. He struggled to breathe without hurting himself. “Mallory, you don’t have to say that. You have a concussion. We’ve been through a lot over this past week and sometimes emotions run high—” He forced the words out, even though he desperately wanted to believe she did know her true feelings.
Her smile was sad. “Jonah, please don’t belittle how I feel. I would never say something I didn’t mean, although I certainly understand if you don’t feel the same way. I—I know that I’m not the sort of woman a man like you might want to become involved with. But that doesn’t change how I feel. I love you. And I want you to promise me you’ll take care of yourself, okay?”
He wheeled his IV pump around and came back over to her bedside. He couldn’t possibly let her believe that he was walking away because of what happened to her. “Listen to me. This isn’t about you and your past. I care about you, far more than you can possibly realize. But you don’t have any idea what it means to be with a cop. The stress of the job puts a huge strain on our relationships. Our loved ones watch the news in terror. It’s not fair to you, Mallory. Now that you’ve found God, I’m sure you’ll find another man to care for.”
The last sentence almost got stuck in his throat. Because he didn’t want her to find someone else. He wanted her. He loved her. He loved her!
How could he have been such a fool? All this time, he’d acted as if he was protecting Mallory from being with him, when in reality, he was protecting himself. Protecting his heart from being hurt the way he’d been when his fiancée walked away.
Surely if Mallory could overcome her fears, he could do the same?
“You’re dooming our relationship before even giving us a chance. Yes, your job is dangerous. But I can’t believe there aren’t police officers out there who manage to make a relationship work.”
She was right about that. There were a few cops who had faith and somehow their marriages survived. “Some, yes, but it’s an uphill battle.”
“Maybe it is, but isn’t that where our faith is supposed to help us? Weren’t you the one to convince me that God’s strength helps us to shoulder our burdens? I thought you were a true believer.”
He thought so, too. But hadn’t he known for a while now that God had brought Mallory into his life to strengthen his own faith? She was thanking him for showing her the way to their Lord, when he should be thanking her.
She was the best thing to happen to him, and now that he’d faced his deepest fears, he couldn’t let her go. He lowered himself gingerly back into the chair beside her bed and reached over to take her hand again. “You’re right, Mallory. I have a confession to make. I love you. I love you so much, it scares me. I feel like I don’t deserve such a precious gift.”
Her beautiful blue eyes filled with tears. “Crazy man, we both deserve this precious gift of love. God loves us just the way we are. Which means He’ll watch over us and protect us, too.”
Jonah couldn’t find the words to respond, so he simply reached over and kissed her, vowing to make sure she never regretted loving him.
EPILOGUE
Mallory stood next to Alyssa in the back dressing room of the church, amazed that the wedding gowns they’d chosen were so similar in style. Once they’d dressed completely opposite, but not anymore.
“Are you ready?” Alyssa asked.
Mallory nodded, hoping and praying she wouldn’t start crying like a baby, ruining her makeup. Because if she started crying, Alyssa would, too. And then they’d both be blubbering idiots walking down the aisle.
The double wedding had been Alyssa’s idea, and Mallory was secretly relieved she didn’t have to walk down the aisle alone. They’d agreed that since their parents were gone, they would walk together to the church altar. Gage would be waiting on the left side of the church, and Jonah would be waiting on the right.
“I love you, Alyssa,” Mallory said. “Thanks for always being there for me.”
“Likewise, Mallory,” Alyssa said with a tremulous smile. “Now, don’t get too mushy on me or we’ll both be crying on a day we should be rejoicing.”
“I’m happy,” Mallory insisted, although she could feel the threat of tears pricking her eyes. “Truly happy.”
“Me, too.” Alyssa linked her arm with Mallory’s. “Come on, they’re playing our song.”
Mallory took a deep breath and nodded. Together, they left the dressing room and approached the aisle. The church was surprisingly packed with family and friends. Mallory couldn’t get over how easily the members had welcomed her into their community.
They paused at the end of the aisle and she smiled when she saw Jonah staring at her in awe. Gage had a similar expression on his face, and she knew in that moment, she and Alyssa were the luckiest women on earth to find two guys like Gage Drummond and Jonah Stewart.
She smiled at Jonah, keeping her gaze locked on his, determined to show him just how much she loved him. Jonah’s smile held her steady as she approached the altar. He surprised her by stepping forward to meet her, taking her hand in his. “You look beautiful, Mallory,” he murmured.
Her heart swelled with love as they turned to face the pastor. As they recited their vows, she knew there was nothing on this earth that would keep them apart.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt of Threat of Darkness by Valerie Hansen!
Dear Reader,
I’ve always been fascinated by twins, especially identical twins. I’ve seen TV documentaries about twins separated at birth who have the same careers, the same medical problems, even the same hobbies. But what if you had identical twins with completely different personalities?
Alyssa and Mallory are twins, but due to a traumatic event when Mallory was younger, they lead very different lifestyles. Until danger forces them to take each other’s personalities.
You met Alyssa and Gage in Identity Crisis. Twin Peril is Mallory and Jonah’s story. Mallory is running for her life and doesn’t trust men, until she meets Jonah Stewart, a Milwaukee police detective. Jonah knows better than to get emotionally involved with a potential witness, but he can’t help responding to Mallory, anxious to help her find faith in God.
Forgiveness is the theme of Twin Peril and I hope you enjoy Mallory’s story. I’m always thrilled to hear from my readers and I can be reached through my website at www.laurascottbooks.com.
Yours in faith,
Laura Scott
Questions for Discussion
In the beginning of the story, Mallory has trouble believing Jonah is there to help her. Discuss a time when you’ve had trouble believing the best about someone.
Jonah not only failed his partner in the past, but his failure was captured on the national news. Discuss a time when you failed someone you cared about in a public way.
Mallory has trouble trusting men. Given her past, do you think her issues with trust are justified?
Mallory
is struggling with forgiving herself for what happened in the past. Discuss a time when you’ve had trouble with forgiving yourself for something you did.
Early in the story, Mallory is afraid to pray because she doesn’t know how and doesn’t think God will listen to her if she does. Discuss whether or not you think God would listen to a nonbeliever’s attempt to pray.
As Mallory and Jonah run away from the burning motel, Mallory begins to pray. Discuss the time when you first began to pray and how that may have changed your perspective on faith.
Jonah tells Mallory that God can help us carry our burdens. Describe a time when you used God’s help to carry a heavy emotional burden.
At one point in the story, Mallory takes Jonah’s car keys and attempts to escape. Discuss the emotional turmoil that led to this impulsive decision.
Mallory invites herself to go to church with Jonah and then has a panicky moment when she realizes her life is going to change forever. Discuss a moment when you felt as if you were in a similar situation.
Mallory feels acutely guilty for her inadvertent role in Abby’s murder. Discuss a moment when you felt as if you were in a similar situation.
Toward the end of the story, Jonah refuses to allow Mallory to use herself as bait to draw out Caruso. Discuss the pros and cons of his decision.
Jonah believes a relationship with Mallory won’t work because the stress of being a cop is too much. Mallory believes faith will get them through the bad times. Discuss a time when faith helped you get through a difficult spot in your relationship.
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired Suspense story.
You enjoy a dash of danger. Love Inspired Suspense stories feature strong heroes and heroines whose faith is central in solving mysteries and saving lives..
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ONE
The keening wails echoing down the usually quiet halls of the Serenity Medical Center made the hair on the back of Samantha Rochard’s neck prickle. Every natural instinct told her to flee. Instead, her experience as a registered nurse sent her racing toward the sound of misery.
A doctor, white coat flying behind him, shoved her aside and burst through the curtain into an E.R. exam cubicle. She heard him start to speak. Then, his words were abruptly cut off.
A sixth sense brought Samantha to a skidding halt before the weighted curtain had stopped swinging behind him. Was that scuffling? Fighting? A thud?
She peeked through a slit between the panels. Dr. Weiss, the physician who had elbowed her out of his way, lay on the floor, moaning. A thin, scraggly figure she judged to be male stood with his back to her. The only thing about him that caught her attention and held it was the small, silver-colored revolver he was waving.
Samantha wheeled and flattened herself against a nearby wall. Hands trembling, she pulled out her cell phone, called 911 and cupped her hands around the instrument to muffle her speech.
“We need help at the medical center. Hurry.”
“What’s the nature of your emergency, ma’am?”
“I don’t know.” Samantha wanted to shout instead of whispering. “I heard a scream and…”
When the dispatcher interrupted to ask, “Is that you again, Ms. Rochard?” she figured her report wasn’t going to be taken seriously. So what else was new?
“Look,” Samantha said, “we’ve got a guy in our E.R. with a gun. Isn’t that enough?”
“Okay. Stay where you are and let us handle it.” There was a rumble of conversation and beeping noises in the background before the dispatcher returned. “We have units on the way. Stay on the line with me.”
Samantha was about to reply when someone grabbed a fistful of her shoulder-length, dark hair and jerked her off her feet. The cell phone hit the floor with a splintering crack. She was being dragged backward into the exam area where Dr. Weiss lay!
Her scalp felt as though it was on fire. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t reason. All she could do was keep screaming “No! No!” and try to regain her balance enough to fight back.
The attacker flung her aside like a sack of dirty laundry. She landed hard. The instant she looked up she knew who had manhandled her. It was one of the teenage Boland boys. What’s his first name? Why can’t I remember? Marty, Jimmy, Bobby? It was Bobby. Bobby Joe. At least that sounded right.
Shying away while her thoughts whirled, Samantha stared at the young man in the tattered jeans and T-shirt. His eyes were wide and darting, their pupils dilated. He was under the influence for sure, which made him even more unpredictable. His demeanor reminded her of an animal caught in the jaws of a steel trap and willing to chew its own leg off to escape.
She licked her lips and found her voice. “Hey, it’s me. Samantha Rochard. You’re—you’re Bobby Joe, right? I used to go to school with your big sisters. Remember?”
His eyes flickered. His body was shaking so uncontrollably his hand kept jerking. The hand with the gun in it. “I—I know,” he stammered. “I came to see you ’cause you’re a nurse.”
“Okay. I’m here,” Samantha said with forced calm. “I’m going to get up now, Bobby. Will you let me do that?”
His nod was quick, twitchy. “Yeah.”
Using the edge of the exam table to steady herself she kept her concentration on the teen’s face, waiting for him to do something else irrational thanks to his drug-induced paranoia. The biggest plus of the whole situation was the fact that she knew all of the Boland kids had been raised with strong morals and lots of love, even if they hadn’t had much else.
Samantha took a deep, settling breath and squared her shoulders. “I’m listening,” she told the skinny, long-haired teen. “Why did you want to see me?”
He stepped aside so Samantha could view the occupant of the narrow gurney for the first time. A homemade quilt wrapped a frail, blond child about two years old. The little body lay quiet. Too quiet.
Whipping her stethoscope from around her neck she pushed the teen aside, threw back the edges of the quilt and began to check the child’s vital signs. There was a heartbeat! Thank You, God.
“What happened?” she demanded.
“I don’t know. I was just watchin’ him for a friend and…”
“How long? How long has he been like this?”
Instead of answering, the gunman stepped back and began to weep as if his heart was breaking.
Samantha was no longer concerned about anything except the ill child. “Talk to me, Bobby Joe. Tell me everything.”
Sobbing was all she heard so she doubled her efforts. “Listen. Time matters. If you think he swallowed something I need to know what and when. Talk to me. Help me save him.” She was searching for injuries on the little body as she spoke and finding none.
The young man sank to the floor near Dr. Weiss’s feet. Samantha heard him mumble something about a stash and the little boy being too curious. That was enough to get started. She threw aside the curtain surrounding one end of the exam area and found herself staring at a trio of quaking coworkers.
“Narcan,” Samantha shouted. “And find me a doctor who’s conscious enough to give the order to administer.”
“I can do it,” Weiss said, rolling onto his hands and knees and pausing before pulling himself erect. He cast a
wary glance at the assailant who was still babbling incoherently, then nodded at a middle-aged nurse who stood outside the immediate area. “You. Alice. You heard her. Meds. Stat. And somebody order a chopper. We’ll transport to Children’s in Little Rock as soon as we stabilize.”
“Respirations are slow, pulse rapid and weak,” Samantha told him.
“That figures.” Weiss blew a sigh. “I’ll start an IV while you give him half the dose IM. If the problem isn’t opiate-induced, Narcan won’t hurt him.”
“Right.” She administered the injection while other nurses and the doctor worked on the opposite side of the gurney.
The sound of approaching sirens caught her attention. Tensing, she eyed Bobby Joe. He apparently hadn’t noticed that the police were almost there.
“Vitals are improving. Somebody take my place for a second,” Samantha said before leaving the patient in other capable hands and going to crouch beside the distraught teen.
“We’ve given the boy an antidote and he’s starting to respond. It’s going to be okay.” Reaching for his weapon and closing her hand around it, she made sure it was pointing in a safe direction, then exerted steady pressure. “You can let go. Give me the gun, Bobby Joe. Everything’s under control.”
Relieved beyond words when he did as she asked, Samantha stood, holding out the small, silver pistol, butt first and muzzle direction safely diverted, just the way she’d taken it from its owner.
Several police officers were already approaching warily when she turned to face them. Their guns were drawn, their expressions deadly serious so she announced, “You can relax, fellas. Everything’s under control. I got his gun away from him for you.”
One deputy sidled past her to cuff the addict while another stepped up and took the pistol from her hand.
If Samantha hadn’t already been so keyed up that she could barely think straight, she might have shrieked when she saw that cop’s face. Her jaw did drop and she was pretty sure her gasp was audible. His light brown hair and eyes and his broad shoulders were all too familiar. It couldn’t be him, of course. It simply couldn’t be. She hadn’t had one of these déjà vu moments for months. Maybe years.
