by James, Sandy
“Well?” Hannah demanded as Doug came into the bedroom to stand beside her. “What happened out there?”
“I can’t heal anymore,” Sarah answered in a flat tone she hoped would tell Hannah she didn’t want to talk about it. As if Hannah or her parrot husband could leave it alone.
“What do you mean?” Doug shouted, making both Sarah and Hannah wince.
Looking at Cheryl Sutton, Sarah made a tough decision. Asking for help had never been easy for her. Asking for help from a virtual stranger was going to take a lot of courage, maybe more than she truly had. Sarah tried to remember what she felt when she’d been bonded with Cheryl as she healed her. Cheryl had been kind and giving—the type of person Sarah knew wouldn’t turn her away. Where had Cheryl said she was from? St. Louis? Chicago? It didn’t matter. She’d find a way to get to Cheryl. And hopefully, Cheryl could help her start over. Somehow.
“Sarah,” Doug scolded. “Answer me. Why wouldn’t you heal that little girl?”
Her mind made up, Sarah strode to her closet and opened the door. Grabbing a duffel bag from the top shelf, she started hauling clothes off hangers and stuffing them in the bag.
“Sarah!”
She turned around to face Doug. Hannah stood by his side, still wringing her hands. Sarah was heartily sick of them both. “Keep the damn house. I don’t want it.” She grabbed a few things off her dresser and shoved them in the duffel. Then she slid Cheryl’s picture into her pocket.
“Keep the house? What do you mean, keep the house?” Hannah asked. “Where are you going?”
“Anywhere but here.” She zipped the bag, slung it over her shoulder, and walked out of the bedroom. Hannah and Doug trailed her to the front door.
“You can’t leave,” Hannah insisted. “What will we do?”
“What will we do?” Doug echoed.
“I honestly don’t care.” Sarah opened the door and walked out of her home for the last time.
* * * *
“When are you going after Sarah?” Libby asked for what seemed like the millionth time that day.
It wasn’t as if being apart from Sarah was easy on Josh. She haunted his every waking moment. Hell, she haunted his dreams, too. He missed her more than anyone could possibly know. But before he went back to Indianapolis again, he was going to be ready. He was going to go holding the story he was working on to show Sarah what he really thought about her gift, what he really thought about her.
“Pop? Are you going today?”
“Not until I get this story done.” He tried to tune out Libby so he could hear the words forming in his mind. The story had been screaming at him since the moment he saw that sickening headline Sarah had shown him that awful day she’d walked out of his life.
He’d tried several times to get to her house. Each time he’d been turned away by the local police. No one answered his dozens of calls. Well, Hannah had once. When he’d told her his name, she’d hung up. By now, she’d had his number blocked. He wasn’t even sure Sarah had email or if she would answer any of the dozens of snail mails—cards and heartfelt letters—he’d sent to Indianapolis. The last several had been marked “Refused.” Sarah was obviously good and mad. Not that he blamed her. But God, he hoped he could fix this. He loved Sarah. He needed Sarah.
“Pop?”
“No. Not quite yet.” He’d have the new story in hand when he tried again. Mack Stewart would want this one. The cynical Joshua Miller taking a huge hit? Mack would salivate to publish this story and watch his reporter eat a huge helping of humble pie. And maybe if Josh showed her the new story, it would prove to Sarah that he was sincere and that he really loved her.
Shit. She had to be thinking Josh was the biggest liar on the face of the planet. Not just because of the first story—the stupid sarcastic vindictive story he thought he’d deleted. No, she’d be angrier that he’d taken her virginity. With everything that had happened, she had to believe it was for lust not love.
She was wrong. He had to prove that to her. Somehow.
“Then why aren’t you done yet?” his daughter demanded in a bossy tone that reminded him so much of her mother.
“Soon.”
“You hate me, don’t you?”
Libby had asked that question almost as often as she asked when he was going for Sarah. “No, Miss Elizabeth. I don’t hate you.”
He glanced away from his laptop to see his daughter leaning against the door and staring at him with red-rimmed eyes. She’d done little except cry since they’d returned.
“I miss Sarah too,” Libby said in a voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to hurt her. I thought...” She sniffled. “I thought I was helping you.”
Josh stood up, walked to Libby, and gathered her into his arms. “Your heart was in the right place.”
“You’ll make this right? I miss Sarah. We can’t lose her, too,” she said, sniffling again and looking up into his eyes.
He nodded, his own eyes getting misty. Libby had already lost so much, just as he had. This had to turn out right. The alternative was unthinkable. “I’ll make this right, Libby. Somehow. We’ll get her back.”
* * * *
“You’ve got no idea how much I appreciate this,” Sarah said as she threw her duffle bag into the back seat of Cheryl’s SUV.
“Poo,” Cheryl replied with a dismissive flip of her wrist. “I’m absolutely thrilled you called. I’m just sorry you lost your gift.”
Sarah slid into the passenger seat and buckled her seatbelt. “I won’t impose long. I just need to find a job and get set up someplace where I can rent a cheap room.”
“Bullshit. You’ll stay with me ‘til you get on your feet.” Cheryl eased the SUV from the bus station parking lot into Chicago traffic.
“I can’t ask you—”
“You saved my life, Sarah. Let me do this for you.”
Sarah turned to look out the window, hoping Cheryl wouldn’t see her grateful tears. Life had thrown her another curveball she would have to find a way to hit out of the park. But it wasn’t easy to depend on someone else. She offered a silent prayer of thanksgiving, knowing she needed the help from both her Maker and Cheryl Sutton to get through this. “Thank you, Cheryl. I really appreciate this.”
“My brother’s looking for a new receptionist. I’m gonna call him when we get back to see if you can have the job.”
Sarah turned back to tell Cheryl she could find a job on her own before she realized just how stupid that notion was. She had a high school diploma. That was it. The only thing she was really qualified for was asking if someone wanted fries with his order. If Cheryl’s brother needed someone to greet people and answer phones, Sarah swore she’d do whatever it took to help him. “I’d love to meet him.”
“He works for a charity, deciding where to spend the money. His assistant is pregnant. She’s getting ready to take time off for the baby. Then she only wants to work part time when she comes back. You’ll like her. She’s a hoot. Funniest person I ever met. I’m sure she’ll be able to show you the ropes.”
Sarah watched the reflection in the passenger-side mirror as the Chicago skyline faded in the distance. “Is his office downtown?”
Cheryl shook her head. “He works out of a home office in Bolingbrook. He and his wife built this huge house with an office. Ross runs the charity from there. She works out of a free clinic in Joliet.”
“You sister-in-law is a doctor?”
“Yep. She stays pretty busy, what with the baby, her practice, and all.” Cheryl increased the SUV’s speed to match the frenetic pace of the outbound traffic. “You’ll like my brother. He’s a bit...gruff. But he’s got a good heart. I’ll call him as soon as we get back to my place. You’re as good as hired.”
Chapter 19
“She what?” Josh hadn’t meant to shout at Libby, but judging from how far she leaned away, he’d been awfully loud.
“She left. Just look,” Libby said, centering herself back on her chair and hitting the knuckl
e of her index finger against the monitor of her computer. “Someone posted her picture.”
He blinked, unbelieving, at a picture of Sarah walking down her porch stairs. A large canvas duffle bag was slung over her shoulder, and Josh recognized the look in her eyes. He’d seen it the day she’d healed the injured robin and again the day she’d saved Libby. Determined.
Libby’s lips moved as she read the accompanying story until she suddenly gasped. “She never went back. She’s been gone for days.”
Josh’s heart leapt into his throat. Surely Sarah wouldn’t go back to that parking garage. No. Not now. Not after everything that had happened. Not after talking with Laurie. He tried to swallow his fear. If she meant to harm herself, Sarah wouldn’t have taken her possessions with her, and she did have that duffel. The timing of her departure was too ironic; he’d just been preparing to go get her.
His story was finally ready. Josh had sent it to Mack Stewart. The sour-tempered man had actually laughed, promising to run it soon. Mack laughing—that was as rare as finding a Republican in the heart of Hollywood. Josh had already packed for his trip to Indianapolis. He’d planned to lay siege to Sarah, to stay planted in front of her house until she came out to see him or the police arrested him. Either way he’d get her attention. Then he’d show her the story—the real story. The one he wrote from his heart.
“Pop? She needs us. She belongs with us. How can we find her now?”
Ready with an answer to that dilemma, he’d already grabbed the phone. “I know a good private investigator who’ll find her, Libby.” After dialing the number, Josh put a reassuring hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “We’ll find her. I promise.”
* * * *
“Ross?” Cheryl asked, poking her head inside the office door.
Sarah fidgeted nervously, knowing Cheryl was putting this poor man on the spot. As difficult as it had been to ask Cheryl for help, Sarah felt like a common beggar going to Cheryl’s brother, hat in hand, and pleading for a job.
“Hey, Cheryl. Come on in.” The voice was deep and gruff, sounding more like a barked order than an invitation. That sure didn’t bode well. I should leave. Now, while I have the chance.
“Sarah?” Cheryl glanced back over her shoulder. “You coming?”
She hadn’t realized she’d taken a step back. Ross Kennedy was already intimidating her, and Cheryl hadn’t even asked him to hire her yet. Sarah was having a hard time locating any courage. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”
“Nonsense. We talked this out at home. Come on.” Cheryl grabbed Sarah’s hand and tugged her into the office, making Sarah feel like some reluctant child being dragged to a doctor’s appointment where a painful shot was sure to be waiting. She wondered if she’d get a cherry lollipop when the ordeal was over.
The man sitting behind the big desk looked like he could play professional football. Muscular. Broad shouldered. Intimidating. When he stood up, Sarah swallowed hard. The only person she’d ever known who had been that tall was one of Charlie’s boyfriends.
Cheryl’s face lit with a smile. She clearly loved her grizzly bear of a brother. Maybe the guy didn’t bite after all. “Ross, this is my friend Sarah.” She turned back to Sarah. “Sarah, this is my brother Ross. Ross Kennedy.”
Ross reached out and Sarah shyly shook his hand. He had the grip of a tightened vise. She resisted the urge to flex her fingers to restore the circulation when he finally let go.
Fixing that intent gaze on her, Ross said, “Cheryl told me you were looking for a job. Have you ever been a receptionist?”
“No.” What was she supposed to say?
Of course you want to hire me! I’m a high school graduate who’s never been convicted of a felony. Just a couple of misdemeanors. Oh, and I used to be able to heal dying people. Does that mean I’m qualified to answer phones for your charity?
“Where have you been working?” he asked before setting his mouth into a thin line that pretty much summed up her chances of getting this job as being next to nothing. His intimidating scowl almost forced her to turn and run.
Cheryl held up her hand to keep Sarah from answering. She walked around the desk and crooked her finger. Her skyscraper of a brother bent down until he was close enough she could whisper in his ear. The buzzing whispers continued for a few moments then Ross’s eyes grew wide as he fixed his intense gaze on Sarah.
“You’re kidding. That’s really her? That’s Sarah Reid?” Cheryl nodded. “What in the hell is she doing here?” His voice was loud enough to make Cheryl lean back for a moment before she stood on tiptoe and whispered something else in his ear. Sarah could only imagine what Cheryl had been telling Ross, but he obviously had no problem letting everyone know exactly what he thought because he had a smug smirk on his face. He clearly knew something Cheryl didn’t.
Then he did the strangest thing. He picked up the only picture frame on his desk that was otherwise overloaded with paperwork, opened up a drawer, and slipped the frame inside. Sarah never even got to see who was in the portrait.
How odd.
“I’m not kidding,” Cheryl said, not even acknowledging the rest of her brother’s strange reaction. Cheryl lowered her voice, but not enough that Sarah couldn’t hear. “I’m your baby sister. She saved my life. Do this for me. Please.”
Ross was actually a very attractive man when he smiled. And for some reason, he was smiling now. Shoot, he was grinning like he’d just been told he was going to be crowned king of England. Leaning down, he whispered in Cheryl’s ear. Suddenly, Cheryl got the same deer-in-the-headlights look her brother had so recently sported.
“You’re kidding,” Cheryl finally blurted out, sounding as incredulous as her brother had when he’d uttered the same words.
“I’m not kidding,” Ross replied, the cocky grin on his face raising Sarah’s radar another notch.
What in the hell were they talking about?
This had been a really bad idea.
“Well, Miss Reid,” Ross finally said, “it seems that I owe you a debt. You helped my sister, and I would be happy if you’d work for me. Welcome to the Miller Foundation.”
“Miller?” Just hearing the name was like taking a knife in the gut. Why couldn’t she forget Joshua Miller, even if only for a few moments? Every time his face floated through her thoughts, her heart was like a piece of fragile crystal dropped on the floor. Shattered. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to put the pieces back together. “I thought your name was Kennedy.”
Ross considered this thin, tiny woman for a moment before he answered. Laurie was never going to believe Sarah was here. When his wife had returned from her impromptu trip to the ranch, she’d shared as much of the story as she could, trying to convince him that she believed Sarah was the genuine article. But a day or two later, Laurie said the faith healer had disappeared, and his wife been frantic trying to help Josh find her.
Josh was always Laurie’s favorite cousin, more like a brother really. Laurie thought Sarah and Josh made a good match, and Ross had resigned himself to attending another overblown Miller family wedding. God, he was glad he and Laurie had eloped. When Sarah had dropped off the face of the planet, Josh had called several times since he’d returned from Montana— just a couple of days after Laurie and Jill returned. The last call had come to Ross, asking about his favorite private investigator, Bruiser Glenn. Bruiser was supposed to be finding Sarah Reid.
Ross smirked when he realized he’d bested his friend Bruiser in this investigation. He’d found Sarah first and would enjoy holding it over Bruiser’s head. After all, bragging rights were everything.
Sarah had fallen right onto Ross’s lap. While he still wasn’t convinced Sarah was the real deal as far as healing was concerned, he had to admit Cheryl had never been healthier. Even if it was nothing more than the placebo effect, Sarah had been the cause of that improvement. Between his gratitude for Cheryl’s progress and the desire to ease his wife’s troubled mind, he knew he had to do everything he co
uld to keep Sarah close. At least until Josh Miller could get there and claim her.
Right now, Sarah looked like she was ready to bolt just because he’d given her the name of the foundation. She couldn’t possibly know which Millers ran the Foundation, and Cheryl obviously hadn’t told Sarah about the connection. It was a common enough name, he figured he might be able to convince her this place had nothing to do with Josh or Laurie. Thank heaven he’d had the good sense to hide the picture of his wife and daughter before Sarah could see it.
Choosing his words carefully, Ross hoped to keep her around until Laurie could decide what to do next. “Yeah, I’m a Kennedy, but I’m the chairman of the Foundation. I married into the Miller family.”
“You wouldn’t happen to know a Laurie Miller, would you? She’s a psychologist. Has a little girl named Jill. Or a...a...Joshua Miller?” Her grimace told Ross it pained her to even utter Josh’s name. “He’s a...a reporter.”
Sarah’s face was so pinched, she looked like someone had just punched her in the stomach. Despite the fact she wouldn’t let Josh know where she was, this woman clearly had it bad for him. Now, Ross was going to be forced to play matchmaker. He almost rolled his eyes and groaned in frustration. It seemed too...female for his tastes. Ah, but he loved his wife. He’d do this simply to make her happy.
Sarah had taken a couple of steps toward the door, and if he or Cheryl hinted they knew Laurie or Josh Miller, he knew she would run. He had to find a way to calm her down. He whispered his plans into Cheryl’s ear. She nodded in response.
Using his wife’s full first name, a French name that was often mistaken for a man’s, Ross tried to pacify Sarah. “Doesn’t ring a bell. I was hired by Laurence Miller. I run the foundation for that family.” It wasn’t a lie. Not really.
