The Damaged Heroes Collection [Box Set #1: The Damaged Heroes Collection] (BookStrand Publishing Mainstream)

by James, Sandy

  Sarah reached the door, tried to jerk it open, and realized it was locked. The condemning voice grew bolder as a few more joined in the chorus of insults, threats, and pleas for help. Pounding on the door, Sarah called, “Hannah. It’s me. It’s Sarah. Please let me in.” The door opened to her just a few moments later.

  “Sarah. Oh, my God! Where have you been?” Hannah asked as she stepped out of the way so Sarah could get inside. Shutting and locking the door, Hannah turned to stare at her with wide eyes. “Are you alright?”

  Sarah nodded, choking back frightened and angry tears. “I’m... I’m fine.” As if she would ever be fine again.

  “Where in the hell have you been?” Doug demanded, stalking toward them.

  “Away.” She wasn’t about to tell them what a damned fool she’d been for thinking Josh ever cared about her and for thinking she might actually have a future with him. He’d used her. For what? For a story. “How long have they been out there?” Sarah asked, nodding toward the door.

  “The story came out a couple of days after you...left,” Hannah replied. “There were only a few at first. Then they started the stories about your disappearance. There’s usually a dozen or so every day now.”

  “Did you call the police?” Sarah asked.

  “Of course. We’re not idiots,” Doug replied. Sarah bit back a sarcastic retort. “They warned ‘em about trespassing. That’s why they stay at the fence. The cops come by a couple times a day to keep an eye on them.” His gaze raked her from head to toe. “Were you with that reporter? Is that where you’ve been? Shacking up with that guy? If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you left to stir up publicity. You know, make some more money.”

  Sarah fought the overwhelming urge to smack him. “It doesn’t matter where I was. I’m back.”

  “Are you ready to start healing again?” Hannah asked. “Do you want me to call some of the people who’ve been waiting for you?”

  How easy it would be to slip right back into her old life. She could heal people every day and descend into the blessed oblivion of exhaustion. Then she wouldn’t have to think about her own stupidity, and she wouldn’t have to bear the hurt of losing Josh. She closed her eyes as the pain washed over her again. He didn’t love her. He’d never loved her. But she still loved him.

  Could a person die from a broken heart?

  Then Sarah straightened her spine. Whether she believed Joshua Miller loved her or not, she knew she wouldn’t sink back into her old ways. He might not really care, but Sarah cared about herself now. She would follow through with the plans Laurie had helped her make. And maybe someday the pain would go away.

  Maybe. Maybe not.

  “I’ll see one a week,” Sarah finally said. Doug opened his mouth, probably to protest, but Sarah stopped him with a wave of her hand and held up her index finger to emphasize her point. “No, Doug. Not a word. One client a week. Just one. And I prefer children who are terminally ill.”

  “But we can’t make much—” Hannah clapped her mouth shut before she finished the sentence. She stared at Sarah with that pitiful look that used to make Sarah give in. Sarah stood her ground and stared right back. “Only one?” Hannah finally asked.

  Sarah nodded. “And I’m going to get a job.” She shot an angry glare at Doug and then Hannah, knowing they wouldn’t like what she was going to say next. She said it anyway. “And so are both of you.” Before she could even think about how she could convince them it was time for them to contribute to their own support, a sudden banging on the front door stopped her.

  “Sarah!” Josh’s voice shouted. “Open up! I need to talk to you!” He pounded on the old door so hard, she feared for a moment he would break right in.

  “Go away!” she shouted back.

  “C’mon, honey! Open the door! I want to talk to you!” The pounding continued.

  Hannah moved to open the door. “Don’t you dare!” Sarah shouted as Doug reached out to grab his wife’s arm. “Don’t you even think about letting him in. Ever.” She wasn’t about to face Josh again. Not now, not ever. She strode to the door. “Go away! I won’t talk to you! Just go away!”

  Josh placed his palms against the door, as if his willpower and his love for Sarah could make the stupid thing disintegrate. He wasn’t about to let it end like this. His future, the only future he wanted, was behind that damned door. “Sarah. Honey, please. Please open the door. Please listen to me. I can explain everything.”

  She wouldn’t answer him.

  About to start pounding on the door again, Josh turned to an insistent tapping on his shoulder. Assuming he’d see Libby, he was more than a little surprised to find a police officer frowning at him. Over the man’s shoulder, Josh could see Libby standing behind the white picket fence, wringing her hands.

  “Sir, you need to step away from the porch.” The officer pointed toward the broken fence. “Gotta stay back off private property. Other side of the fence.”

  “But—”

  The cop shook his head. “Sir, if you’d please—”

  “You don’t understand. I need to get in there. I need to talk to—”

  Narrowing his eyes, the policeman interrupted, “Everyone here needs to get in there. Some of these folks have been here more than a week. They’re not getting in. Neither are you. I’m only asking you nicely one more time. Step away from the porch.”

  Figuring there wasn’t going to be much he could do to fix this in jail, Josh nodded. But it took every ounce of his strength to leave that porch. Walking to the sidewalk, he glanced back over his shoulder, hoping in vain Sarah wouldn’t let him leave. Every step he took made his heart ache all the way to the pit of his stomach.

  She never opened the door.

  “Pop?” Libby asked when he got to the fence. “Where’s Sarah? Isn’t she coming with us?”

  He shook his head. “She won’t talk to me.”

  Libby burst into tears. “It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.”

  “Don’t worry, Miss Elizabeth. I’ll find a way to make this right. I promise.”

  Chapter 18

  “She doesn’t have an aura,” Sarah said as she watched Hannah lead the three-year-old girl and her mother into the living room.

  Hannah looked at the girl then back at Sarah. “Aura?”

  Sarah shook her head, knowing Hannah didn’t understand because she’d never been open with her sister about her gift. Hannah knew Sarah needed sleep after a healing, but the rest of the experience had been too personal for Sarah to discuss with anyone. The bond Sarah felt with the people she healed wasn’t something she wanted to share.

  She’d shared it with Josh. Waves of hurt still accompanied every thought of him. Waves of hurt that seemed never-ending.

  After returning from Montana, Sarah had been so devastated, all she could do for a couple of days was cry like some pitiful weakling. She still loved Josh—even after all he’d put her through. And God, she didn’t understand why she couldn’t muster up any hatred. Despite it all, she still loved Joshua Miller.

  But Josh didn’t love her. He’d never really loved her.

  At first she’d cried because of the hurt and humiliation. Then Sarah had gotten good and angry. That anger gave her strength. She’d hauled herself out of bed and decided to face the world. She made herself read the story that Josh had written about her because she had to know the truth. It had been one of the most painful things she’d ever done, but Sarah had read every word—each one striking like a fresh wound on her heart.

  Joshua Miller wasn’t the man she thought he was. He not only didn’t believe her, he held nothing but contempt for her. And he’d used her. He’d taken her virginity and was most likely having a good, long laugh at her naiveté. He’d taken her love and stomped it into the mud. Maybe it was his way to strike back at someone for the horrible things that had happened to his late wife. Sarah wondered if perhaps sympathy for all he’d been through kept her from hating him.

  Could she ever hate him? No.
She still loved the man. He might be a royal asshole, but she still loved him anyway.

  Sarah’s battered and bruised heart insisted on arguing in his favor. He wrote the story before I healed Libby. Before he fell in love with me. Before Montana. He took such good care of me. He didn’t use me. Her head refused to listen. He’d made a fool of her. Josh had never really loved her at all, and no matter how much she loved him, she wasn’t sure she could ever forgive him.

  But she knew she’d never forget him.

  It wasn’t as if he’d come running to her to explain. Once he’d left her porch the day they’d returned from Montana, Sarah hadn’t heard a word from Josh. No phone call. No letter. And he hadn’t even come to Indianapolis to try to talk to her again. No, he was probably back in Chicago, settling into his old life. He and Libby were back to being a family—the family she’d wanted to be a part of. She closed her eyes, bearing another raw blaze of heartache, hoping each would lessen her hurt at his betrayal. But the pain persisted.

  With a stubborn shake of her head, Sarah tried to focus on the first child she would heal. One a week. Just like she’d planned with Laurie.

  Dr. Laurie Miller. Why had Josh gone to all the trouble to bring her all the way out to the ranch? Was she supposed to be a diversion for Sarah? Was he gathering more information for another story? Sarah had genuinely liked Laurie Miller. Now she questioned the counselor’s motives. If Laurie was fishing for information, didn’t that violate some ethical rule for doctors? Sarah couldn’t trust her own feelings about anything or anyone. She felt like her heart had been run through a blender, and she had trouble focusing on her young visitor.

  The little girl looked pale and thin. What was wrong with her? Leukemia, Sarah reminded herself. She reached out for the child, hoping to have her come to her as all children had—with no hesitation and pure confidence in Sarah’s ability to help.

  The girl stared at Sarah with wide eyes before she turned and wrapped both of her thin arms around her mother’s leg.

  This just isn’t right. Everything about this healing seemed...off. Why wasn’t the girl crawling into Sarah’s lap? And where was the aura?

  “Come on, Kim,” the mother said, prying her daughter’s hands from her thigh and leading the child to Sarah. “This lady’s going to help make you feel better.”

  Sarah held out her hand. Kim shyly put her hand in Sarah’s. “Hi, Kim. I’m Sarah.” Sarah expected the girl to come into her arms. Then Sarah could press her left hand, her scarred hand, against the child’s back and draw out the illness. The pain would sweep into her brain and body until the leukemia burned away. Just like always.

  As Sarah pulled the reluctant girl into her embrace, she closed her eyes and splayed her fingers over Kim’s back. The pain should have started immediately. It didn’t. There was no connection of her mind with Kim’s. There was...nothing.

  Something’s wrong.

  Opening her eyes, Sarah looked over at Hannah. Her sister had started to wring her hands. “What’s wrong, Sarah?”

  Everything. Everything was wrong—from the lack of an aura to the fact that Sarah felt absolutely zilch by laying her hands on Kim.

  “I don’t understand,” the mother said with a worried frown. “Nothing is happening. Why won’t you heal her? You said you could heal her.”

  “I...I don’t know,” Sarah replied. For the first time since she received her gift, she was hesitant, unsure of whether she had the power to help this girl at all. All her confidence in the one thing she’d been good at in her whole life had fled.

  Something’s wrong. Something’s very wrong.

  “Sarah? What’s going on?” Hannah asked again.

  The truth came over Sarah in a rush that knocked the breath right out of her. “I...I can’t. I don’t think I can heal anymore.”

  Kim ran back to her mother and wrapped her arms around her mother’s leg.

  “Excuse me?” the mother practically screeched, causing the child’s lip to quiver. “What do you mean you can’t heal anymore? My daughter needs you. Everyone said you can do this. You have to do this.”

  Sarah couldn’t even answer the poor woman. Guilt choked her and stinging tears blurred her vision. She wanted to help this beautiful little girl. She wanted to heal her so Kim could have a long, happy life. Children deserved long, happy lives.

  “Answer me!” the mother shouted.

  “Sarah, I don’t understand,” Hannah said, still wringing her hands. She inclined her head toward Kim. “You need to heal this little girl.”

  “You don’t think I want to?” Frustrated tears streamed down Sarah’s cheeks.

  “Then heal her. I mean it. You have to heal her,” Hannah insisted. Sarah was amazed her sister didn’t stomp her foot like a two-year-old having a tantrum.

  “I...I can’t. I don’t know why, but I can’t.” Sarah glanced over at the mother, wishing there was some way to make this nightmare stop. She would gladly surrender her time and bear the pain to help this child. She’d risk collapsing for hours and hours to heal Kim. Sarah wiped away her tears with the back of her hand.

  “Try again,” the mother insisted. “You need to try again.”

  Somehow Sarah knew it would be futile, but she motioned to Kim, willing to attempt a healing one more time—hoping against hope she was wrong. “Come here, Kim.” Sarah patted her lap. “Come sit with me for a minute.”

  The child kept a thumb in her mouth. Not surprising, even at that age. Kim glanced up at her mother who nodded and gave her a gentle push toward Sarah. The little girl slowly came to stand in front of Sarah again.

  Sarah knelt next to Kim and smiled at her before drawing her into her embrace. Splaying her scarred left hand over Kim’s back and placing her right on her soft hair, Sarah closed her eyes.

  Please, God. Give it back. Please give it back. You took away Charlie. You took away the man I love. Please don’t take away this, too.

  I’ll have nothing left.

  She knew the answer to her prayer before she’d even offered it. There was no aura. There was no feel of crackling electricity when she touched the girl. There was no flow of energy from her to the sick child.

  Putting her now useless hands on the child’s shoulders, Sarah looked Kim in the eye. “You’re a brave girl, Kim. I know you’re sick, but I know you’re gonna beat the sickness. I know you’re gonna get better.” And Sarah believed that. Somehow she knew this wouldn’t end badly just because her gift had disappeared. She kissed Kim on the forehead and turned her so she could go back to her mother.

  Sarah stood up, wiped away her remaining tears, and faced the mother. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why, but I’ve lost my healing ability. I wish I could help you. I really do. But... I can’t.”

  Expecting insults to be hurled her way, Sarah was surprised when the woman simply nodded. She imagined the mother had already experienced several disappointments that had turned her spine as strong as steel. Gathering Kim into her arms, the woman turned and followed Hannah to the front door.

  Sarah hurried to her room. She needed to see the faces of the people she’d healed. She needed to draw from their energy. She needed to know she’d made a difference in the world because her gift was now gone— almost as quickly as it had arrived. No bolt of lightning. Just the gentle flickering of a flame as it died.

  Turning question after question around in her mind, Sarah wondered what about her life had changed, what had caused such a difference that it had stripped her of her ability to heal.

  She’d fallen in love for the first time in her life. Was that the cause? Love was supposed to make a person powerful. Surely her love for Josh would have made her stronger, not weaker.

  She’d lost her virginity. Did that take her power away? How archaic would that be? Only virgins could be pure enough to heal? It was hard not to scoff a laugh at that notion.

  Then Sarah knew. She just knew.

  I can’t heal anyone because I healed myself.

  The cosmic ba
lance had been paid in full. When she’d brought Libby back, she’d finally atoned for losing Charlie Baxter. This gift of hers had been as much for Joshua Miller as it had been for her.

  Sarah was both elated and devastated by the revelation.

  Her gift was gone, and she realized it would never come back because the old Sarah Reid would never come back. Too much about her was different, too much of who she had become was tied to a man who didn’t really love her.

  What would she do now?

  She wanted Josh—the Josh she knew in Montana. She wanted to feel his arms around her. She wanted to hear his voice whispering that everything was going to be alright.

  But nothing was ever going to be right again. Josh didn’t really love her.

  It was time to learn to love herself.

  One by one, Sarah plucked each picture from the wall and stared at the face of someone who had been dying and was now well. Each one gave her strength—strength she would need to change her life. And she decided she was going to change her life. For the better.

  Hannah came into the bedroom and gaped at Sarah. “What in the hell happened out there?”

  Sarah didn’t answer her sister. She just kept plucking the pictures off her bedroom wall, remembering each name that matched each face.

  Tom. Drew.

  What was she going to do now?

  Kyle. Robin.

  Where was she going to go?

  Megan. Heather.

  All she knew was that she wasn’t staying in Indianapolis.

  Morgan. Chuck.

  She wasn’t going to let Hannah and Doug dictate her life anymore.

  Austin. Dominic.

  But where could she go?

  Cheryl.

  Sarah stopped and stared at the picture in her hand.

  Cheryl Sutton.

  For some reason she couldn’t quite put her finger on, Sarah felt irresistibly drawn to Cheryl Sutton. The woman had been suffering from lupus. Her kidneys were shot. Sarah’s back had ached for days after she healed her. Cheryl had been so grateful she’d made Sarah promise if she ever needed anything she would call. Sarah vaguely remembered Cheryl taking the Polaroid out of Hannah’s hands and writing on the back of it as she made the offer. Flipping the photo, Sarah wasn’t surprised to find a phone number. But was it right to ask for help from someone she’d healed? Especially since Hannah had probably taken money from her. Cheryl Sutton didn’t owe Sarah a thing.