Dangerous Love

by Kara Leigh Miller

  Frankie gave a tight smile, and then left.

  Pacing the room, his nerves were a bundle of tangled thorns digging deeper and deeper into his gut. He could not allow Alessandra to destroy everything he’d worked so hard to achieve. If she had only listened to reason, to him, none of this would’ve happened. But no. She had to get it in her stupid head that she could outsmart him. He laughed. Right. Like some dumb waitress could ever beat him. Well, he’d shown her—repeatedly—that Raymond Scotts doesn’t get pushed around. He did the pushing.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Amanda smiled at Ethan, who had caught her eye from the pulpit long enough to wink at her. Twelve years and his smile still made her feel like she’d just exited the roller coaster on Coney Island: exhilarated, slightly woozy, and awed. He turned back to the mostly female choir to finalize the song list for the day.

  Checking her watch, she saw there were about fifteen minutes before the first service would start. Enough time for Josh to show up. She frowned and moved down the aisle to check the pews, make certain they all had enough Bibles. As she checked, she thought about the tone in Josh’s voice when she’d spoken to him last. He’d been in a rush, needing to get to work, but definitely grateful for the few items of clothing she found for his patient. Just a patient. So he said, but they had walked this path before.

  She made it to the end of the aisles and took a moment to fix a few of the flowers that seemed twisted in the leaves. The small table at the entrance was big enough to hold the brightly colored vase and the pamphlets she printed last night for today’s service. She picked one up and opened it; she saw her husband’s handsome face and sweet eyes looking back at her. It gave a little bit of detail about their congregation for new visitors. She tried to do one once a month so guests would know if any special services and events were happening.

  “Hey, sweetie. You want to open the door?” Ethan asked her from behind. She turned, surprised she hadn’t heard him walk down the aisle. He leaned into her, kissed her cheek gently.

  “Sure. I invited Josh when he dropped by to get the clothes,” she said more to herself than Ethan. He ran a hand down her pale pink sweater she knew he loved—always said it made her blue eyes stand out.

  “He’ll come in his own time. You can’t rush him. He needs to find his own way back, honey. We’ve talked about this,” Ethan whispered patiently.

  She felt tears sting her eyes, but she knew he was right. She just hated the thought of her little brother feeling—being—so lost.

  “I’m worried he’s losing himself in the wrong direction,” Amanda admitted.

  Ethan kissed her forehead, kept his lips there for a few seconds. “Why don’t I see if I can catch up with him? Ask him if he wants to hit a movie or the gym or something? It’s too cold to golf,” Ethan suggested, checking his watch.

  “Yes, that would be good. It’s been too long since you two hung out, connected.”

  “I’m pretty sure if I put it to him like that, he’ll say no.” Ethan grinned, making Amanda laugh.

  “Okay. Thank you. I love you.” She smiled, her tears retreating.

  “Which I feel blessed for every single day.”

  * * * *

  As usual, Ethan’s morning service was well attended and well received. He would spend the hour or so in between services perfecting the sermon for the second round. She walked into his small office, what had once been a vestry and found him sitting at his desk, notes spread out in front of him. Even with the rain outside, the stained glass windows glowed behind him, their colors leaping out in fragments. He looked up and smiled the same smile that had won her heart.

  “Nice job.”

  “Thanks. You heading out?” He nodded at her jacket.

  “If you don’t mind. Leslie is covering preschool for the second service, and I just feel like maybe I’m being too hard on Josh. Every time he calls or stops by, I nag him. I feel like he’s so unhappy and that he blames himself for Laura,” she explained.

  He put down his pencil and came around to lean against the aged oak desk. “Okay.”

  “I just want to do something nice for him. I thought I’d do some grocery shopping for him since he usually forgets. You’d think doctors would be more conscientious about that. Anyway, I should be back by the time the second service starts, but if not, everything will run smoothly with the kids groups.”

  He reached out and pulled her close, using the tie on her jacket. Her arms went to his chest immediately.

  “I have no doubt everything will run perfectly. Most of the things you organize do. Honey, you may have to accept that not everyone wants to be saved,” he began, holding up a hand when she started to protest. “Also, everyone grieves differently. You know that. It’s human nature to believe we could have done more when we lose someone. It must be especially difficult for someone who is used to saving lives. Cut him some slack.”

  “I’m trying. I want to. I just . . .”

  “What?” He used his hand to tilt her chin up when she’d cast her eyes down.

  “I knew something was wrong, too. I missed all the signs, or ignored them, with Laura. I know it’s not about me—it’s not my fault. But if we could all miss the signs of depression with Laura, what if we miss them with Josh?” Her voice broke when she said her brother’s name. Ethan pulled her in, wrapped his arms and his love around her as he always did, and within that small circle of warmth, she felt what she always did—safe.

  “Grieving and losing your faith, losing your way, are entirely different than Bipolar disorder, Amanda. Josh is not Laura. He will find his way back. In his own time.”

  Amanda buried her face in the crook of Ethan’s neck and breathed in his familiar cologne. The faint stubble on his broad chin tickled her face. “You’re a wise man, Mr. Grant.”

  “That’s why you married me, isn’t it?”

  “That and your smile.”

  He dropped a gentle kiss on her lips. “I love you, Amanda.”

  “I love you back. I won’t be long.”

  Her smile felt genuine as she took the back exit out of the church to where the car was parked. Getting in, she felt lighter than she had earlier in the day. He’ll find his way back. And we’ll be waiting here for him when he does. Please, God, let him find his way back, before it’s too late.

  * * * *

  Amanda knew guilt couldn’t be assuaged through gifts or even through good deeds. Still, it eased her conscience a little for the way she’d been pressuring Josh, to show up at his cute little bungalow with her backseat full of groceries. She’d tuck them away, maybe put a casserole together for him. She’d be late for the second service anyway as apparently she wasn’t the only one who thought a Sunday morning shop was a good idea.

  The rain held off as she pushed open the door of her four-door Honda Civic. Won’t be long until it snows. The air smelled of it—the crisp bite of cold stung her cheeks. She pulled the groceries out of the back after finding Josh’s key on her key ring. Walking up the paved driveway, she saw the blinds were drawn in the living room. I’ll open those up. Maybe clean up a bit for him. Throw some laundry in. She was humming tunes from the choir when she unlocked his front door and let herself inside. Placing her keys on the entry table in the small foyer, she let the groceries slide off of her wrists so she could deal with her coat and boots. Pursing her lips at the sound of water running, she picked up the bags and headed toward the kitchen. Odd, since he rarely came home early.

  “Josh? You home?” she called out, hefting the bags onto the counter. Hearing the footsteps, she turned with a smile, but gasped, her hand flying to her chest, when she saw the stranger in front of her. The willowy brunette, dressed in some of the clothing she’d given to Josh earlier in the week, let out an almost inaudible squeal and took a step back. The fear in her eyes so strong, Amanda felt like she could reach out and grab it.

  “I’m Amanda. It’s okay. I’m Josh’s sister,” she soothed without thinking. You’re wearing my clothes. P
atient. Yeah, right. Her face, which had lost any color it had other than the bruising, relaxed slightly as she pulled at the sleeve of the grey sweater Amanda had bought on a whim and never worn.

  “I’m . . . I’m Alessa. I’m sorry. I didn’t know Josh had company coming.” Her voice faltered, and her eyes darted toward the door. Amanda softened her gaze, lowered her voice, and took a tentative step. She had worked with abuse victims at the church and could recognize it in Alessa’s stance, shifting gaze, and tepid voice.

  “He didn’t know I was coming. I was trying to surprise him and do something nice for him,” Amanda said. Even with her bruises, it was easy to see she was attractive. She had wide set, dark brown eyes. Like Laura’s. That was where the similarity ended. Alessa’s auburn brown hair fell softly around her shoulders, unintentionally elegant, rather than sleekly cut and styled like Laura’s. Her eyes had a gentleness that the fear curtained. At Amanda’s admission, Alessa’s face lit up, despite the cut lip, her smile transforming her face from fear to nerves to approval.

  “It must run in the family,” Alessa stated, taking a step closer.

  “What’s that?”

  “Wanting to do nice things for people.”

  Oh Josh. Have you fallen for this poor, broken girl? In her heart, she already knew the answer. She wouldn’t be staying in Josh’s home if he hadn’t. “Every man shall give as he is able,” Amanda quoted, moving back to the marble-topped counter.

  “Deuteronomy,” Alessa replied, peeking into one of the bags.

  Amanda turned to stare at her, unable to keep her mouth from opening. “That’s not a very well-known verse.”

  “No. But it’s a pretty one. Though not always true. For your brother it is and clearly, for you as well,” Alessa answered.

  Amanda unloaded the bags, unsure of what to say. She placed items on the counter, one by one.

  “May I help?” Alessa asked.

  “Of course. Thank you.”

  “I should be thanking you.”

  “Oh?”

  Alessa put the jug of milk into the fridge before pulling at the hem of her sweater. “These are your clothes?”

  “Uh . . . yes. Josh asked for some. For a . . . patient. I guess that was you.” Amanda stored Josh’s beloved Fruit Loops in the cupboard with some granola bars and crackers.

  “He’s been exceptionally kind to me. He saved me. More than once actually.”

  Amanda’s heart constricted at the melancholy in Alessa’s voice. When she moved back to the counter to grab the container of yogurt, Amanda reached out, put a hand on Alessa’s arm. Alessa looked down at her hand, then back up to meet Amanda’s gaze.

  “Who hurt you?” Amanda asked slowly.

  Alessa tilted her head, and her lips formed a small pout. “I don’t know. I don’t remember anything. I know my name. Have known it since I woke up. I know I’m thirty-one, almost, because I found my driver’s license. I like tulips, and I’m not married. That seems to be the extent of what I know about myself.” She gave a nervous laugh.

  Amanda removed her hand, letting Alessa grab the yogurt and cheese. “That must feel horrible to have so many blanks,” Amanda finally said. Personally, she hated it when she forgot an appointment or that a favorite show was on—to forget your life, who you were, would be terrifying.

  “It does. I had nowhere to go, not anywhere I could remember anyway.” She gave a half-laugh. “Josh said I could stay in his spare bedroom.”

  “Of course he did. He couldn’t possibly send you away with no recollection of anything. That’s unthinkable.” Amanda closed the cupboard doors and collected the plastic bags.

  “Not really. I’m a stranger. He had every right to discharge me, and let me go.”

  “Perhaps the right,” Amanda leaned back against the counter and looked at Alessa who stayed by the fridge, “but I think the hospital has protocol for such instances. Places you could have been taken, a shelter perhaps. Josh wouldn’t just let a patient wander aimlessly with nowhere to go.”

  “No. Of course. He’ll probably think of that by the end of the day. This is just—” Alessa stammered, the pitch of her voice edging toward panic.

  Amanda moved closer to her. “He didn’t just help you because you’re a patient, Alessa. He obviously cares about you. He’s one of the kindest men I know. But if he didn’t want you here, if you didn’t matter to him, he’d have found somewhere else for you to be.”

  She saw the tears fill Alessa’s eyes and could understand Josh’s desire to help her—she seemed so forlorn but strong. She had backbone, despite having someone try to beat it out of her. Maybe she has enough to help Josh find his way. Whatever the case, standing in front of this lovely woman, she could see what had pulled Josh in and prayed that he knew what he was doing. Please don’t let history repeat itself. When Alessa smiled, reached out tentatively, Amanda had a very strong feeling Alessa might be just what Josh had been missing.

  “Thank you.” She nodded, taking Amanda’s hand and squeezing it gently. Amanda could feel the abrasions on Alessa’s hand and closed her hand between both of her own.

  “You’re welcome. Are you okay here alone? You could probably use some more clothing.”

  “Oh, no. You’ve done enough. This is fine. Thank you.”

  Amanda simply nodded, walked back to the hallway. She put on her coat, pulled on her boots and picked up her keys and purse. “I hope to see you again soon, Alessa. Truly. My husband is a pastor at Serenity Community Church. You should come.”

  “I would like that.”

  So would I. She said goodbye, waited until she heard the lock turn before heading back to her car. She would definitely be popping by again soon. She should probably get back to the church though. One more stop, just a quick one. She turned on the radio and sang along to the chorus of a song she’d heard a handful of times as she backed out of the driveway and turned her car in the direction of Metro General Hospital.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Josh crossed Mrs. Mantz’s appendectomy off of the large white board that ate up most of the wall outside the surgical rooms.

  “What’s that on your face?” Nurse Renee asked with an arched brow.

  Josh reached for his face, patted it with both hands, and looked at her.

  “No, it’s on your lips. They were curved upward like a . . . smile.” She laughed.

  He squinted, but had to laugh. “First, it was a great surgery. And second, I smile all the time.” He put the eraser back on the ledge.

  “Not like that. Not for a long time anyway. It’s nice to see.” She patted his arm and walked past him.

  He felt his grin widen. He checked his watch and saw he had enough time before his next surgery to grab something quick to eat and phone Alessa. Somehow, with her in the room next to his, he had slept better and worse than he ever had. Pulling out his phone, he realized he had never dialed his own number. Huh. He was grinning at his phone when he heard his name. Turning, he saw Amanda coming toward him.

  She was dressed for church in her knee length black skirt, sensible heels, and pale pink top. As always, she looked elegant, if not a little flustered. Her hair, the same color as his, was slightly damp, a few strands sticking to her cheek. The rain must be picking up, and he wondered why she hadn’t buttoned her coat.

  “What are you doing here? Everything okay?” He walked to meet her. He leaned in, kissed her cheek, and brushed the wisps of hair back.

  “Everything is fine. I just wanted to do something nice for you,” she replied with an indecipherable expression. She was looking at him as though waiting for him to say something.

  He tucked his phone in his pocket and continued to look at her. “Okay?”

  “I’ve been nagging you a lot lately. About church, about moving on—”

  “Amanda.”

  “No,” she waved a hand, patted his arm, then continued, “I’ve been a pain.”

  “No. Sisters are never a pain.” He smiled. She looked up at him with such
surprise; he wondered what he’d said.

  “I’m sorry, was that a joke? Where’s my moody brother?”

  He took her by the elbow and guided her into a small room that served as an office or a spot to rest. He swallowed his laugh and went for mock offense. “Moody? No. You’re right, you’ve been a definite pain.”

  He turned so they were facing each other and saw something he hadn’t in some time—a genuine smirk. His heart tweaked a little when he realized he had missed her, missed laughing and joking, and just going back and forth with her. That’s what happens when you lock yourself in a tower of misery.

  “I would ask what brought this playful banter on, but I’m pretty sure I know.” She smiled.

  His heart thudded more rapidly. He wasn’t ready to share Alessa or to be told he couldn’t have her. By anyone. He was not ready to confide in his sister so he kept his face blank, knowing she couldn’t possibly know. “Maybe I just got a good sleep.”

  “Maybe. Anyway, as I was saying, I wanted to do something nice for you.”

  “Are you going to do it sometime soon? I need to get back to work. As nice as it is to see you and not be nagged.”

  “Oh, I already did. I picked up a bunch of groceries and brought them to your house.”

  He was quite certain if he were a cartoon, his jaw would have hit the ground. Instead, he just stared at her. How long has it been since anyone has come by my house, and she shops for me now?

  “Uh. But, I’m not home. Thank you. You didn’t have to do that. Did you just leave them outside?” Please let them be outside.

  “Of course not. Alessa and I put them all away.”

  His heart dropped to his stomach. His pager went off, startling him into action. “I . . . uh . . . yeah, she’s the patient I’ve been seeing . . . I mean, she was here. I have to go,” he rambled, looking down at his pager and unclipping it from his belt as if to offer her proof.

  “Is it an emergency?”

  “What? No. It’s . . . I’m scheduled for surgery. I can’t—”