A Reason to Sing
Book Three of the “Song of the Heart” Series
Michelle Lindo-Rice
Michelle Lindo-Rice
P.O. Box 380992
Murdock, FL 33938
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be re-produced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.
A Reason to Sing Copyright © 2017 Michelle Lindo-Rice
Smashwords Edition
Also by Michelle Lindo-Rice
On the Right Path Series
Walk a Straight Line
My Steps are Ordered
The Fall of the Prodigal
Song of the Heart Series
Sing A New Song
My Soul Then Sings
Able to Love Series
Color Blind
Unbound Hearts
Silent Praise
Nothing but the Truth Series
Tell Me Lies
Lie to Me
Sweet and Spicy Series
A Piece of the Pie
Pulled from the Headlines
The Resolution
What readers are saying about Sing a New Song:
Book One of the Song of the Heart Series:
“Michelle Lindo-Rice has written a sweet story of the power of love despite the main character’s (Tiffany’s) sordid past.”
—Michelle Stimpson, bestselling author of Falling into Grace
“The author’s writing is crisp and her character’s emotions are authentic.”
—Pat Simmons, award-winning and bestselling author of the Guilty series.
“The author did a phenomenal job in drawing the reader’s heart and spirit into the characters . . . Ms. Lindo-Rice developed an endearing, engaging, multilayered story with realism and redemption.”
—Norma Jarrett, Essence bestselling author of Sunday Brunch
What readers are saying about My Soul Then Sings:
“Michelle Lindo-Rice really pushed herself to the next level of literary entertainment.”
– E. N. Joy, bestselling author
What readers are saying about Walk a Straight Line:
“The message of resilience in Colleen’s story is powerful and important . . . as is the message of commitment, love, and friendship that come through.”
—Rhonda McKnight, bestselling author of An Inconvenient Friend and What Kind of Fool
What readers are saying about Silent Praise:
“Michelle Lindo-Rice’s Silent Praise, Able to Love book three, has at its core a Christian inspirational message, by way of a very enjoyable romance ... The horror and disappointment are realistically written with great visual and sensory scenes that immediately pulled me in and held me in place to the end in one sitting.”
--Michelle Monkou, Special Edition of USA Today – HEA
Acknowledgements
I never imagined when I finally landed a book deal five years ago, that I would already be looking to publish my fourteenth book. Where did all the words come from?
God.
He gave me this gift and I am truly thankful to use this opportunity for His glory.
I would like to thank J.J. Murray who edited My Soul Then Sings and then A Reason to Sing. He was able to help my vision of a spiritual soap opera read come to fruition while keeping my characters’ actions and storylines believable, for the most part, lol.
Thank you to Felicia Murrell, who put the finishing touches on the manuscript to give you a smooth read.
I think A Reason to Sing is my riskiest work yet. It challenged me as an author to tell an outlandish tale that not only engaged but inspired.
Special thanks to my first set of beta readers. Your honest feedback gave me the motivation to persevere with this novel when I wondered if I would ever get it publish-ready. Thank you to Leslie Hudson, April Lachelle, Tiffany Tyler, Ellowyn Young Bell, Sherell Burns, Deborah Dunson and LaCeasha Banks Turner.
Thank you to my second set of beta readers: Queenie Clem, Danielle Nicole Moss, Burgundy Richards, Shavonna Futrell and Maurice M. Gray, Jr.
Dedication
For Abbey Lee Resilus
God has a way of turning every single situation into a song.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Ch. 1
Ch. 2
Ch. 3
Ch. 4
Ch. 5
Ch. 6
Ch. 7
Ch. 8
Ch. 9
Ch. 10
Ch. 11
Ch. 12
Ch. 13
Ch. 14
Ch. 15
Ch. 16
Ch. 17
Ch. 18
Ch. 19
Ch. 20
Ch. 21
Ch. 22
Ch. 23
Ch. 24
Ch. 25
Ch. 26
Ch. 27
Ch. 28
Ch. 29
Ch. 30
Ch. 31
Ch. 32
Ch. 33
Ch. 34
Ch. 35
Ch. 36
Ch. 37
Ch. 38
Questions for Discussion
Scriptures for Study
About the Author
Prologue
Megan Higgins wished she had never opened that door.
She had ventured up the stairs with a fresh load of laundry when she saw her walk-in closet door ajar. The closet was a small fourth bedroom that her husband, Jackson, had converted into a dressing area as a wedding gift.
Curious, she pushed the door open and gasped. It wasn’t because her clothing had been ripped from the hangers or that her shoes had been tossed to the floor. No, her eyes were riveted on the one-hundred-eighty-pound man swinging two feet off the floor. Megan zoned in on his face, purple from asphyxiation, noting the corded rope twisted around his neck. The white laundry basket filled with baby clothes fell from Megan’s hands onto the lush green carpet. “Jackson!” She screeched. “What have you done?”
Jackson’s body swayed on the industrial-strength fan he had insisted on installing since the ever-clogged AC duct made the room feel like a sauna in summer. Jackson had had it specially made, bragging it could probably hold two hundred pounds. She never dreamed he would test out his theory. She never dreamed he had been right. “Jackson,” she bellowed again. “You can’t do this.”
Had Jackson been fighting for his life while she was in the basement folding clothes? He had kissed her this morning and said he would be working late.
“Jackson!” Megan pleaded. “You can’t leave me like this! We have a son! Cooper needs you!” She reached into her pocket for her cell phone. She’d left it in the basement. Stifling her hysteria, she tore down the hallway into her bedroom and grabbed the cordless phone from her nightstand before running back into the room. She punched in 9-1-1, almost tripping over the broken blades from the fan.
While she waited for someone to answer, Megan grabbed Jackson’s legs and pulled them up to rest on her shoulders. “Jackson!” she called again.
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” she heard through the line.
Megan wobbled from the strain of her husband’s weight. “Come quick. Help me! I need an ambulance! My husband’s…my husband’s h-h-hanging in my c-c-closet!” She rattled off her address and cut the call, ignoring the operator urging her to stay on the line. Megan dropped the phone as her knees began to buckle. With a so
b, she let go of his legs and dragged her dressing table chair under Jackson’s feet.
“Hold on, Jackson,” she pleaded. “The ambulance is on its way.”
Megan wiped her brow. She needed to cut him down. She raced down to the kitchen, snatched a large butcher knife from the wooden block and dashed up the stairs. Megan slid on one of Cooper’s onesies and stumbled to the floor, landing hard on her butt. A couple of inches to the right and she would have been pierced by the knife.
Megan drew a breath, thanking God for quick reflexes. She hoisted to her feet, scrambled into the closet, and stepped on the chair.
It felt like hours instead of mere seconds until Megan successfully sliced the cord. Thank you, Lord. She braced herself, knowing she wouldn’t be able to hold Jackson’s weight. He toppled onto her and her right ankle gave way. Megan fell off the chair and Jackson landed on top of her with a heavy thud.
Holding back a scream, Megan rolled him off her. She squatted next to him and pummeled his chest. “Jackson! Jackson!”
The doorbell pealed followed by loud bangs on the door.
Megan brushed her hair out of her face and scampered downstairs to open the door.
“Mrs. Higgins?”
“He’s upstairs!” she howled to the two EMT workers and returned to the closet, kneeling beside Jackson and squeezing his hand.
When the EMT’s entered, they immediately began CPR.
“I found him hanging,” Megan said as her shoulders slumped and her breathing escalated. She clutched her chest. “I don’t feel good.”
An EMT took Megan’s arm. “Breathe. Breathe. You’re having a panic attack, Mrs. Higgins.”
Megan allowed him to lead her to her chair. She looked over at Jackson and lowered her head. Her life as she knew it was about to change.
It would never be the same.
And she had no one but herself to blame.
Ch. 1
“I said no to seven million dollars. I said no to seven million dollars.” Megan leaned against her front door and breathed out the words. She clutched her stomach. “Oh, Lord, I said no to seven million dollars.”
The temptation to open the door and run after Ryan Oakes was strong. The multimillionaire had presented her with the certified check, but she had refused to take the blood money. Not when her husband had warned her he would come. Ryan Oakes was not a philanthropist. He was trying to appease his conscience.
Megan’s body shook. “Jackson, why did you leave me?” she whispered. Had she not listened enough? Had she not been a supportive wife? Guilty thoughts plagued her, though she knew she didn’t cause Jackson’s death.
Her nails scraped the cherry wood door as she crumbled to the parquet wooden floor. Megan buried her face in her hands and sobbed. Her shoulder length hair cascaded about her. She needed money. She had been sick to the point of death with a rare strain of pneumonia. Her hospital bills were astronomical. Megan would have died if it had not been for the prayers of the saints at A Better Life Center. Their prayers moved the hand of God.
Six months ago, everything was different. She had a healthy twelve-month-old, Cooper, and a husband who adored her. But then she had gotten sick and Jackson Higgins had committed suicide.
Or so they say.
Megan knew differently. Ryan Oakes was a murderer. If only she could prove it. It had been a rough winter. Come, spring, come.
Her lips curled as she thought of Ryan’s preposterous comment only moments before.
“Marry me.”
It was not the words, but the way he said them. If she didn’t know better, Megan would have believed Ryan meant them.
As if she would ever give him a chance. Money, good looks, and charm did not turn her head. Fit and tall with beautiful brown eyes and a wide smile, Ryan looked like a man in his thirties, but she knew he was forty-five years old from television interviews.
Megan’s head snapped up at the sound of a whimper coming from the playpen in the living area. She wiped her tears and straggled over to her son. Cooper tossed and turned. His gurgling bothered her. Ever since Jackson’s death, Cooper had not slept well. Megan patted Cooper on the back until he settled.
“Hush little baby, don’t say a word,” she sang before her voice broke. Megan blew air at her bangs.
The doorbell chimed.
Megan flailed her arms. “That man is so persistent. I’m going to tell him where he can shove that check.” She marched to the door and swung it open.
Her eyes widened. “Mr. Manchester?”
Jackson’s attorney, Kyle Manchester, flashed his five-hundred-dollar-an-hour smile. He reminded her of a snake, but Jackson had insisted Kyle was the best.
Megan gritted her teeth. “This is not a good time,” she said and moved to close the door.
Kyle placed his foot on the threshold. “Mrs. Higgins, you haven’t returned my calls. It’s urgent that I speak with you.”
She pushed against the door. “I don’t have any money. I’ve settled most of my bills and I have a small trust for Cooper, but other than that, I’m broke.”
“Will you at least let me in?” Kyle pleaded.
Megan stepped aside. She resisted the urge to rub the goose bumps popping up on her arms. He made her feel unsettled.
Kyle strutted into her living room and sank into the plush fabric of her couch. Then he plopped his briefcase next to him as if he owned the place.
“What do you want? When you took Jackson’s case, your payment was contingent upon a win. It’s not my fault Jackson passed before you got your big paycheck.”
“Don’t you mean killed?” Kyle asked.
Megan gulped.
“I’d like to continue the lawsuit,” Kyle said. “You’re sick with a young child to care for and no income.”
Megan folded her arms. “I have a master’s degree in music. I was a music teacher for ten years. And I’m not sick anymore, thanks to the healing power of God.”
“You haven’t worked as a music teacher for four years,” Kyle said. “And I heard all about your healing, but we don’t have to mention that.”
She lifted her chin. “I’m not going to deny what God did for me. Ever. My answer is no.”
Kyle lifted an eyebrow. He opened the file folder and extracted a piece of paper. “I think you need to read the contract.”
Megan narrowed her eyes and took the document. Kyle had a sly look on his face. She scanned the contents before her mouth dropped open. “Why would Jackson agree to pay you even if you didn’t win?”
“Because my time is valuable, Mrs. Higgins. Jackson wanted the best and I am that and more. In his defense, Jackson knew we had an airtight case.” Kyle’s greasy smile made Megan back up.
“But, I don’t have three-hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars,” Megan said. “You can’t hold me responsible for Jackson’s stupidity.”
Kyle stood. “I can and I will.”
Megan did not doubt Kyle meant his words. “I wish I hadn’t turned down Ryan’s offer,” she muttered.
Kyle lifted a brow. “What offer?”
Megan swung around and walked toward the front door. She needed Kyle Manchester out of her home.
Kyle gripped her arm. He applied enough pressure until she had to face him.
She shrugged out of his hold and rubbed her arm. “Ryan offered me a large sum.” Megan bit her bottom lip. Why was she telling Kyle this? Something about him made her want to tell her business.
Kyle’s harsh face softened. His eyes salivated. She could almost see the dollar signs. “You should take it. You’ll have enough to pay me and care for Cooper.”
Megan shook her head. “I have no intentions of taking Ryan’s blood money. He killed my husband.” Her tongue loosened. “Did you know he had the nerve to ask me to marry him?”
Kyle threw back his head and laughed. “I can’t believe my good fortune.”
Megan tilted her head. “What good fortune?”
He touched her face. “You’re certainly a
precious gem.” His voice dropped. “I understand why Ryan’s smitten with you.” His eyes scanned her snug jeans and fitted purple shirt. “I admit when I first saw you, I wondered how an ape like Jackson landed a woman like you.”
Megan drew a breath. “Jackson was not an ape. He was kind and considerate and—”
“Not the man I can be for you,” Kyle interrupted. He reached for a tendril of her hair and tugged it hard. “Consider the debt paid if you marry me instead. I wouldn’t mind getting one up on Ryan Oakes.”
She flailed her hands. “Why do I feel like I’ve been transported into soap opera land? I’m not a pawn, and I find you insulting.” Megan shoved him away from her. She sped to the door and opened it. “Get out.”
Kyle cackled. “I’m only messing with you.” In an instant, his demeanor changed and he was all business. “I’ll file a civil suit if I don’t receive my money. I strongly suggest you take Ryan’s check or accept his marriage proposal.”
Megan glared. “I’ve been taking care of myself for thirty-eight years, Mr. Manchester. I don’t need you telling me what to do.”
“You’re not thinking, my dear.” Kyle moved into her space. “You can avenge Jackson. Marry Ryan. Get him to love you. Get him to open up to you. You read the Bible. You know the story of Delilah and how she seduced Samson. Be Ryan’s Delilah and bring him to his knees. Use your beauty, and your…” He scanned Megan’s generous frame. “Assets. Make Ryan confess to killing Jackson. What a way to honor your husband.”
Kyle’s words wrapped around her mind, tempting her. Megan felt compelled to obey his command.
“You have such a way with words,” she whispered. “It’s mesmerizing.”
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