Eight

“I’m no angel, Luke,” Anna stated as he pulled off the interstate for gas. “But for the grace of God, I could have been one of those children because of my mother’s drug use. I’m just giving back.”

At the mention of God’s grace, Luke threw his SUV into park a little harder than he should have, and Anna raised a brow. “Did I say something to upset you?”

Four years of pain and guilt, of keeping his mouth shut so he didn’t upset his family, suddenly came rushing to the surface. “Explain to me why God spares some children and not others? Why He would inflict pain—or any disabilities for that matter—if He’s so full of grace?” Luke asked, staring across the gas station, not really seeing those around him.

He’d called her an angel because innocence and purity seeped from her like an aura. Angelic, like he’d said. But she was too sweet and trusting for this bleak world in his opinion.

“Only God can answer that,” she said cautiously, watching him. “But I believe that children like those who attend the Little Lighthouse are put on earth to teach us how to care for one another. When children with disabilities love you, it’s unconditional. They don’t know how to hold grudges or hate. They just know how to love, and in return, they teach those of us around them to love freely.”

His chest burned with the one question he wanted answered. The question he’d needed an answer to for four years, yet no one so far could give him one. “What about children who die? Explain to me how that teaches us anything except defeat and pain,” he asked vehemently.

Anna’s eyes rounded at his tone, then softened with awareness. He could feel her question across the cab, felt the tension rise inside his SUV, so he turned his head to avoid her gaze. He knew she’d see the guilt written across his face, just like he did daily in the mirror, and he didn’t want her pity.

“I think those children are the most special of all,” she whispered.

His head whipped around, and he scowled at her, then bit out each word as if it tasted foul. “You think a child being ripped from his family makes him special?”

She swallowed hard at his outburst, then nodded, not backing down from her belief. “I think,” she began nervously, “that God loves those children so much that He can’t be without them. I think He gives them to parents who need that kind of blessing in their life, but then calls them home because their precious light is too good for this world.”

Four years he’d looked for an explanation that proved God wasn’t cruel and unfeeling. Or worse, didn’t exist at all. And with a few short sentences, this half-pint of a woman had given him hope again.

The knot that had formed in Luke’s chest the day his nephew died eased a bit, and he took a full breath. One he hadn’t taken since that excruciating day. He wanted to believe Anna; he was so fucking tired of hating God.

When he didn’t reply, she reached across the cab and touched his arm. “He wanted to protect him from evil, Luke, not hurt you.”

Luke’s hand shot out and grabbed Anna by the neck, pulling her across the seat until she was right in front of him. He didn’t crush his mouth to hers like he had earlier; instead, he searched her eyes, looking deeply for the truth of her statement. Wanting more than anything to trust her explanation.

She wasn’t lying, that much was certain. He could see in their cornflower-blue depths that she believed what she was saying. The knot in his chest loosened further, and he closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against hers. Four years of anger eased slowly as her words sank into that dark pit of despair that was his constant companion.

“Was he your son?” she whispered, raising her hand to stroke his cheek.

“Nephew,” he choked out. “My sister’s son.”

“What was his name?”

It stuck in his throat for a moment, then he answered. “Matthew Lucas Knight.”

“Well, that tells me all I need to know about you, then,” she answered with conviction.

He pulled back at her reply, his brows creasing across his forehead. “How so?”

“A child that special would have to have an amazing mother. One who would want to name her son after someone she respected. She wanted Matthew to be like you.”

Luke sucked air into his lungs to rein in his control, but it was no use. His emotions were running hard and fast. Swirling like the storm around them. Years of self-inflicted punishment had left him bitter and cold, but thanks to Anna, warmth surrounded him for the first time since that awful day.

Without caring who could see them, he took her mouth roughly, overcome with emotions and gratitude that Anna had waltzed into his life. She moaned low in her throat as he dominated her mouth, and his body reacted instantly to the husky sound. He crushed her further into his chest, ignoring everyone who walked past his vehicle as they headed inside to pay for their gas, but the sound of her cell phone ringing brought an abrupt halt to the kiss and both of them back to reality. Luke grabbed it from the floor where it had landed and answered instead of handing it to Anna. If it was bad news, he wanted to be the one to break it to her.

“This is Luke,” he muttered into the phone. “Anna is with me.”

There was a pause before a man answered, “He’s out of surgery. They said it went as well as could be expected. They removed his spleen and set his leg. He’s also got a chest tube for his collapsed lung. Doctor said the next twenty-four hours would be crucial.”

Luke exhaled in relief and looked at Anna. “He’s alive and out of surgery. If he makes it through the next twenty-four hours, he’ll survive.”

Hope burned brightly in her blue eyes, then the tears began again.

“We’ll be there in an hour and a half,” Luke advised, then hung up and pulled Anna back into his arms, listening quietly as she cried softly into his chest.

We arrived at Mercy Hospital as the snow began to fall again. The quiet surrounding us as Luke reached out his hand for mine didn’t match my beating heart. The mixture of emotions I was feeling left my head spinning. I was worried about my brother, terrified he wouldn’t survive. Yet, at the same time, I was hopeful that what was happening between Luke and I was the beginning of something real. I also felt guilt about my brother’s condition, and ashamed that a part of me was excited about Luke, while his life hung in the balance.

My breath caught as I slid my hand into Luke’s and his fingers curled around mine. There was so much strength in his touch; it was addictive and comforting. A woman could easily relinquish control to a man as strong as Luke if she wasn’t careful.

The halls were quiet as we made our way to the bank of elevators; the sound of my boots echoing down the deserted hall reminded me of a prisoner being led to their execution. When the elevator opened, I sucked in a breath and then let it out slowly, trying to ease my worries before I came apart at the seams.

Gregg will be all right, I kept repeating in a mantra. He is too full of life to die.

The moment the doors closed, shielding us from the world, Luke turned me into his body and locked his arms around me. “Shhh.” He mumbled, “It’ll be okay.”

My brows pulled together and I looked up at him. His face was blurry, so I blinked. Wetness coated my face with slow droplets of tears. I’d been crying and hadn’t realized it.

“What if he dies?” I asked in a small voice, feeling like a child lost to an uncertain world. The very notion that Gregg might die left me paralyzed with fear.

“Don’t go there,” he soothed calmly. “Worrying never changes the outcome, and you’ll make yourself sick.”

The elevator doors opened to the ICU, but I didn’t move. “Are you leaving now?” I prayed desperately he’d say no. I knew it was selfish to ask him to stay, but I needed his strength to get through the next twenty-four hours.

Luke’s face registered shock at my question. “I’m not going anywhere,” he vowed. “I called in a favor, so my friend’s business is covered. I’m here as long as you need me.” I buried my face into his chest to keep from crying with relief.

Someone cleared their throat as we stood there, so I turned my head. Darryl was holding the doors open. He was a big man with sandy brown hair and olive-green eyes. He played keyboards for The Wranglers when he wasn’t playing bouncer, which was almost nightly, since their music attracted rough and tough cowboys looking to unwind.

He barely had a scratch on him, which amazed me. Then I remembered how many times I’d read accounts of accidents where one person died and the other walked away without a single injury.

His eyes narrowed on Luke as I broke from his embrace. I straightened my shoulders as I exited the elevator, and carefully gave him what I hoped was a sisterly hug. I was always careful not to act in a way that would lead him on. Of course, that didn’t stop him from burying his face into my hair as he whispered, “How’s my favorite girl?”

“Worried sick,” I returned, then stepped back unexpectedly into a solid wall of chest. “How soon can I see him?” I asked, then leaned into Luke’s warmth.

“Not for another hour.” His eyes shot to Luke then, whose hands had come up and rested on my shoulders. “Who the hell are you?”

I opened my mouth to answer Darryl, but Luke beat me to it. “Luke Knight. Who you are?”

“The man on the phone?” Darryl asked for confirmation, ignoring Luke’s question.

Luke jerked his chin up in a nonverbal reply.

“You a new friend of Anna’s?” Darryl questioned suspiciously, with just a hint of aggression.

“More than a friend,” Luke corrected.

I should have moved away, but I stayed glued to my spot, rolling my eyes at the testosterone filling the room.

Men were a mystery to me. For some reason they thought who ever thumped his chest and growled the loudest won the woman.

It was no match in my opinion. Even though Darryl was a bruiser and probably outweighed Luke by thirty pounds, my money would still be on Luke. He looked like he used his body daily for a living. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him that I could see, so he’d be quick in a fight and wouldn’t tire easily. Not that I thought they would come to blows, but it gave me something to think about rather than worrying about my brother for the next hour.

“How much more?” Darryl continued his interrogation.

I answered then. Because it was none of his business. “The kind of friend who doesn’t make it any of your concern, Darryl. Just drop it.”

Luke’s arm circled my shoulders, and he pulled me further into his body.

Darryl watched the move with narrowed eyes. He caught himself when he realized he was staring, and chuckled softly, shrugging as if it was no big deal. “Just doing Gregg’s job while he’s incapacitated.”

He was lying. I could feel it. But I let him have that. He knew there would never be anything between us, but clearly it didn’t stop him from playing my protector.

“I’ve got her,” Luke mumbled low. “You don’t need to worry on Gregg’s account.”

Translation: Back off. She’s mine.

My heart skipped a beat, reacting to Luke’s possessiveness, and I leaned my weight further against his body. It had been a long time since I had anyone to lean on other than my brother.

I realized as I relaxed against Luke’s chest that in the time they’d been having their showdown, the knot that had been slowly choking me eased slightly for a few blessed seconds.

“Thank you,” I said to both of them when I realized what they’d done.

“For what?” Darryl questioned.

“For taking my mind off Gregg, if only for a moment or two.”

“How’d we do that?”

I raised my hand and motioned between them. “The whole ‘lifting your leg to mark your territory’ routine.”

Luke chuckled behind me, the rumble in his chest vibrating through my body. But the calm I’d found in his arms was short-lived, because right then an urgent voice came across the intercom, stating, “Code blue. ICU room 12.”

When Darryl shouted, “Fuck, that’s Gregg!” I bolted toward the ICU and past the nurses’ station, ignoring them as they called out after me. When I reached room 12, I came to a screeching halt, watching in horror as a doctor placed a defibrillator on Gregg’s chest.