THE CURE

A MICHIGAN SWEET ROMANCE

By: Parker J. Cole

Copyright © 2017 Parker J. Cole

Cover Art by Cover Design by James, GoOnWrite.com

All rights reserved.

First Edition: January 2017

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

ISBN: 9781520299488

Table of Contents

DEDICATION

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

EPILOGUE

EXCERPT

CHAPTER ONE

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

JOIN PARKER’S BODACIOUS READERS

WORKS BY PARKER J COLE

To Raylee Hofacer.

Without her help, this book would not have been written. 

I think it’s amazing that people talk to each other. Even more so that people talk to me.  And listen to me. And answer my questions without running for the hills.

Thank you to Dr. Anthony Munaco and Dr. Kristina Tansavatdi whose medical knowledge in pediatric surgical care and plastic surgery respectively helped to give depth to my characters. Any and all mistakes are mine alone.

To Shannon and Giles for growing up in the beautiful town of Tawas, Michigan and sharing their experiences with me.

Tension raked the inside of her stomach with the prongs of a pitchfork. She gritted her teeth, wheezing and hissing through the small spaces in order to keep her screams from escaping. A quick glance at the clock in the waiting room showed the time. Six p.m. on the dot.

Eight hours since it happened.

Savannah’s back pressed ramrod straight along the back of the slippery plastic bench in the waiting room. The force of her will kept her erect. That, and the knowledge that if she moved one iota, one micron from her position, she’d unleash the storm brewing in her mind.

The click-clack of heels on the marble floor grated on her ears. She shifted her gaze upward to see a woman adorned in a floor-length luxurious black mink coat walking past. The clicking noise came from a pair of white and black polka dot heels with a white bow on the toe.  Brightly colored ribbons trailed near the woman’s feet and Savannah saw a number of balloons in her hands. Metallic, gaudy things that seemed garish and out of place on a hospital floor.

“Savvy?”

Savannah jerked at the sound of her nickname. With difficulty, she turned. At the sight of her friends Tisha Gates and Connie Lakeland, a wave of relief washed over her so strong, she almost melted to the ground in a puddle.

“Oh, thank God you’re here!” she cried out and stood. Her body had been held in such a hold of rigidity, her muscles protested at the movement. Nevertheless, she ran clumsily to her friends’ outstretched arms.

“We’re here for you. Whatever you need,” Connie told her. The yellow pencil she wore habitually in her dark red hair was a wonderful, blessed sight. She smoothed Savannah’s hair away from her face.

“Thank you,” Savannah managed to choke out of a throat constricted by gratitude.

“Have you heard from your parents yet?” Tisha’s hazel eyes darkened with concern and worry.

Savannah nodded. “They’re about another hour away. The snowstorm’s making the road difficult.”

“You poor thing.” Connie hugged her again. “Dealing with all of this by yourself.”

“I prayed the entire way here,” Tisha said as she massaged Savannah’s back.

The words acted on Savannah’s frayed emotions like a soothing balm. Slowly her stomach eased of its painful clenching.

“I really appreciate it,” she croaked.

Like she was a child, Tisha and Connie led her back to the uncomfortable bench and sat on either side of her.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Tisha rubbed her arm in sympathy.

Savannah grabbed each of their hands and squeezed them in one of her own. She knew they referred to what happened eight hours ago. However, in her thinking, she’d have to start earlier than that. Not eight hours ago, but eighteen months ago when her world hurtled itself into a ballooning ball of catastrophe.

Just as she’d become accustomed to being a successful image consultant, her sister and brother-in-law were killed in a car accident involving a drunk driver. Thinking about the sister she wouldn’t see again this side of Heaven made her breath catch. Fiona’s quiet ivory beauty matched with Bart’s robust mahogany masculinity. Their love for each other had been the stuff of legends, surpassed only by the love for their daughter.

Liliana. Savannah’s eyes drifted shut. A precocious child, they’d celebrated her third birthday last week.  Snuffy had lovely caramel skin, a thick wealth of reddish brown hair, and exotic, heavily fringed eyes the color of honey.  Her youthful innocence did not negate the effect of losing her parents. It had taken many months for her niece to adjust to a new way of life.  With lots of support, Savannah and Liliana eked out a new existence.

As guardian and sole provider of her niece, she’d made the difficult decision of relocating her business from the bustling city of Detroit to the quiet town of Tawas.  She’d taken over Bart and Fiona’s home in order to give her niece the continuity of a normal life.

It took time to adjust to small town living, but the residents’ kindness made that easy.  She’d made good friends and neighbors in the year that she had lived there.  Everything hadn’t been perfect but in the last year, she’d adapted to being a mother for Liliana. 

Until eight hours ago.

“The police are still not sure what happened, but a fire broke out at the daycare.” Savannah released their fingers and dragged a hand through her long, unkempt hair. “Somehow, in all the confusion, Liliana and her friend Markita got separated from the rest of the group.  One of them fell or something. The other tried to help and the fire caught up to them.”

“Oh no!” Tisha gasped.  Connie covered her mouth in shock.

“They both suffered second and third-degree burns.”

“Savvy!” Connie clutched her tightly.

Savannah pressed her lips together to contain the wails. She needed to stay focused, if not calm. “I was at one of the high schools in Detroit, doing a presentation.  I usually put my cell phone on vibrate so I can at least hear it ring but I made a mistake and turned the ringer off. I didn’t get the messages until an hour later.”

That nightmarish three-hour drive played in her mind. Fear had taunted her but she fought it back by praying every single mile that passed on the expressway.

“What did the doctor say?” Tisha leaned forward. Her dreadlocks, decorated with a multitude of minute brown beads, made a dull rattle. Savannah couldn’t suppress the thought they sounded like a rattlesnake’s warning hiss.  Was it an omen?

“Savvy?” Tisha’s brow furrowed.

Savannah gave herself a mental shake to rid her mind of the morbid fancy.

“When she came in, the doctor told me they needed to hydrate her body. She’s connected to an IV with a saline solution.”

Savannah’s lips trembled and she stopped talking.  A scream searched for an exit. She didn’t want to give it voice.

“Ms. Woods?”

The professional, neutral tone of the doctor caught her attention. She stood and raced over to the woman, Tisha and Connie trailing behind her.

“Yes, Dr. Yamaguchi? How is she? Is she going to be all right?”

The doctor’s kind brown eyes landed on her. “So far, her condition is stable.  She’s still sleeping right now.  But we’re not out of the woods yet.”  She extended a hand to a nearby waiting room seat. “I don’t want to unnecessarily upset you but you need to know exactly what we’re dealing with. Do you want to sit down?”

“No, please just tell me what’s going on. Can I see her?”

Dr. Yamaguchi nodded. “You can see her, but only for a few minutes. We’ll be observing her for the next thirty-six hours.”

Savannah’s legs threatened to buckle. “What do you mean?”

As the doctor detailed the extent of the damage done to Liliana’s body from the fire, she thought she might collapse.  It was almost too much to bear. 

God, give me strength.

When the doctor finished, Savannah asked quietly, “Can I see her now?”

“Of course.” The doctor grabbed her limp hand. “Don’t let what you see in there discourage you. Liliana’s a fighter. And you need to fight with her, too.” The woman squeezed her hand as if trying to infuse her with strength.

Leaving her friends behind, Savannah walked the path alone to Liliana’s room, trepidation tap dancing along her spine. The pristine white floors and colorful walls made the journey there seem like a psychedelic trip.  Uniformed hospital staff passed her by, the figures fuzzy and nondescript to her unseeing eyes. 

When she arrived at the room, the sight of her niece made Savannah almost fall to her knees. This couldn’t be her beautiful, fun-loving Snuffy. It couldn’t be.

Machines hummed next to the tiny frail body lying in the hospital bed. Snake-like plastic tubes were taped to her nose and mouth. Bandages covered a good portion of her body from her shoulder to legs.  The little girl’s chest moved shallowly.

“Snuffy,” Savannah moaned, her legs so weak she barely made it to the side of the bed before crumpling in the chair the nearby nurse had pushed toward her.  She wanted to reach out and touch the girl, but the doctor had warned against any contact for the next few days.  She could only stare.

“Oh, dear God,” she cried out. This time, nothing held back her tears. A dam had cracked inside of her and she submitted to its torrential power.  The nurse thrust a box of tissues into her hand. She spent the next while crying and sniffling, wishing this was all a dream she could wake up from.

When the outburst had run itself dry, Savannah wiped her eyes and nose for the last time and stuffed the used tissues in the garbage can by the bed.

At least she wasn’t alone. Everyone who loved Liliana would work together to help her niece get through this.

Except for one person.

Savannah jolted. Why now? Why would she suddenly start thinking about him?

Fiona and Bart would want him to know.

A strange calm came over her. Savannah couldn’t deny the truth of those words. She’d avoided a name she hadn’t uttered in voice or thought for three years. If she could have, she would have gone for the rest of her life without having to speak his name ever again.

But circumstances had gone beyond her pride. It had come to this. Just as he had predicted.

Micah Reddington.

A bevy of memories tried to break through the mental brick wall she had placed around them.  She closed her eyes to suppress those tattered recollections of days gone by. Yet, snatches of them still made their way through, glowing like spots of light through the cracks. His long blonde hair often turned to gold when the sunlight cascaded over it.  She recalled the flash of his smile, his teeth white and even above the cleft in his chin.  Those freckles splattered across the bridge of his nose gave him a boyish look that always disarmed her in the past.

No, she didn’t want to go there. Yet, she had no choice.

Savannah pulled her phone from her pocket. She’d erased his name from her contact list but his number was embedded in her head right next to the alphabet.  She typed it in, added her message, and sent it. A life-altering event, and it took less than ten seconds to execute.

She leaned her head back along the rim of the chair and accepted the inevitable. She needed the man who hated her most in the world. 

I need you.

Micah’s chest swelled in unholy but righteous satisfaction. The latest superhero movie receded into the background. His whole world centered on his phone.

It didn’t matter there wasn’t a name associated with the number the message had come from.  Those three words were distinctive as a superhero’s calling card blazoned across the sky. He knew the identity of the sender just as she’d known he would.

I need you.

He mouthed the words unnecessarily in the darkness of the theater.  The taste of them reminded him of cotton candy. The moment he took a bite of the sugary sweet, it seemingly disappeared...until the granules hardened on his tongue, enriching the experience. 

The screen blacked out and he hurriedly tapped the surface of it so he could feast his eyes on the message.  He’d always known it would come to this – where she’d be the one crawling back to him. How he wanted that – wanted her begging and pleading for his help.  Hadn’t he told her that when they parted three years ago?  Micah was rarely wrong – not when it came to Savannah. He knew her so well.

On the tail end of that thought came another, and he grimaced at the irony.  She knew him, too.  She knew he’d come to her. In the past, all she had to do was crook her finger and he’d be there, no questions asked.  He’d been a slave to her every desire. His lip curled in disgust at his overblown infatuation. What a sorry sap he’d been then.

Micah toyed with the idea of delaying a response but decided against it. After all, she must be desperate in order to reach out to him like this.

He pressed the reply button and texted back. Where are you?

Did she still strut down the runway in the season’s latest trends? He’d avoided perusing any of the fashion magazines or TV shows for the past three years. He didn’t need to see her going on with her life.

Saginaw.

The word stopped him. What was she doing back in Michigan? He sifted through the reasons, trying to figure it out, but no plausible scenarios came to mind. Thoroughly mystified, he nonetheless replied back.

Address?

A split second later, an address came over from her. He punched in the search for the map and saw that it was a hospital. Micah’s eyebrow arched. What was she doing in a hospital? Had she been injured? Sick?

Fledgling concern wiggled its way through the resentment and antagonism choking his thoughts. He fought to keep it tamped down, but he knew once it reared its head, there was no going back. 

No matter how much he hated her, he sincerely wouldn’t wish anything awful to happen to her. He wanted her alive and well...if only to gloat over the fact that she was coming to him for his help.

I’ll be there.

Micah got up and walked out of the theater. Smells of popcorn, salted pretzels, and butter-flavored oil ambushed his nose. People milled about talking, laughing, and eating. They could have been statues for all the notice he took of them. He focused on how to rearrange his schedule to be in Saginaw within the next two days.

He punched a number in his phone and greeted the wary hello on the other end. “Hello, Tabitha.”

“Dr. Reddington?” Her voice held a note of astonishment in it. “What are you doing calling me on your day off?”

“Sorry to bother you, but I need you to work your magic.”

“Excuse me?” 

“This is extremely short notice but is there any way you can get my schedule rearranged? I need to take a week off. I’ll call Dr. Bolton and see about him taking over for me for about a week.”

“A week? Dr. Reddington, what’s wrong?”

“An emergency’s come up I need to attend to.” He hoped a week would be long enough to...to...

He didn’t know how to finish the thought.

Tabitha had a near-photographic memory and she utilized it to remind him he had several procedures and operations planned for the week ahead.

“Look, I’ll talk to Greg and ask him to take over.  See about switching my consultations to a week after that. Greg can handle any follow-ups.”

“Okay, Dr. Reddington,” Tabitha sighed.

He felt a prick of conscience poke him. “Sorry about this. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Oh, you will indeed, Dr. Reddington. I already have the restaurant in mind.”

Well, he could hardly argue with that now, could he?

Twelve hours later, Micah walked through the doors of the new hospital, redolent of waxed linoleum, fresh paint, and clean, sterile air.  The facility’s bright cheery colors made a mockery of his dark emotions. Most of his night had been a battle to fight back the memories that threatened to swarm him like a horde of bees. It made the inevitable meeting all the tenser.

He waited along with others at the elevator and got in when it dinged. Meandering to the back, he leaned against the polished surface.

Although he hated Savannah, he couldn’t suppress the anticipation of seeing her again. The admission tightened his jaw. Was he still this gullible, still this susceptible to her?

The elevator stopped three floors before his destination and people boarded.  No, he told himself. He wasn’t the man who followed her every whim and lived for her tender smile. That smile had distracted him from seeing Savannah for what she really was.

The elevator stopped again and passengers went in and out.  The doors began to shut when a slender white hand blocked them. A hand with a tiny flat mole right under the nail of the ring finger.

Savannah!

A sudden, odd panic struck him like a physical force. Time slowed down and thudded against his eardrums. Hot blood, bubbling with forbidden excitement, heated every vein in his body.  The doors parted and she came through them. A moment later, her eyes lifted up and he came into direct contact with his former fiancée for the first time in three years. 

An electric current charged the atmosphere of the small space when Savannah met Micah’s amber eyes.  Its potency registered on some level to the other passengers because several of them looked back and forth between them.  She wasn’t surprised to find Micah in the elevator. In fact, she’d known he’d be there.

She stepped inside and then turned around at the same instant the doors shut.  They started moving again. Savannah berated herself for thinking that some things would have changed in the past three years they’d been apart. She no longer loved him but the bond still existed.  If he walked into a crowded room, she’d instantly know where to find him, as if there was a homing device locked in her heart.

The elevator stopped once more and a number of passengers left, leaving only her, Micah, and a woman answering her cell phone.

Savannah fought the urge to look back at him. The dull reflection in the mirrored surface of the elevator doors showed his murky figure.  She could feel the heat of his gaze traveling along her backbone and she gulped. She knew his perusal stemmed from animosity.

At last, they reached Liliana’s floor and she exited, hearing Micah’s footsteps behind her.

Just get this over with.

“Micah—” She whirled around and collided into his body. “Oh!” She backed away. In the brief collision with his wool coat, she’d inhaled the lemony scent of his cologne. Felt the way his strong, long, blunt-tipped fingers gripped her shoulders through the fabric of her thick sweater to hold her steady.

“You okay?”

The sound of that voice touched her senses like a well-remembered caress. Not a deep baritone or a harsh rasp. Nice and even. Direct.

“I’m fine,” she answered, a little breathless.  She’d always loved the feel of his embrace in the past. When they walked hand in hand at the park or he’d grab her close at the theater.  Every time, she felt safe and secure. Why should she still feel the same way even after her love had faded into regrets?

“I’m here, Savannah.”

She cleared her throat. “Thank you for coming, Micah.”

“Spare me the pleasantries. What do you need?”

The last word ended on a deliberate hard note. In his way, he rubbed in the fact she’d been the one to break the silence between them. But she had known he would do that.  She took the dig in stride.

“It’s Snuffy.”

A peculiar stillness came over Micah. “Fiona and Bart’s daughter?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“What’s happened?”

“She was burned in a fire yesterday.”

His prominent Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “Is she still alive?”

“Yes.” His stance relaxed visibly. Savannah continued. “Barely.”

Micah grabbed her arms and led her to the waiting room chair.  He sat her down and then followed suit, keeping two feet of space between them.

“Tell me what you know.”

She kept the story succinct, all the while trying to still the confusing trembling at his presence despite the distance he set between them.

He was so different than three years ago. Cold and severe like granite.  The penetrating gaze from his amber eyes reminded her of a wary tiger.  They used to look at her with warmth and admiration.  Savannah wondered why it mattered. They’d lost it all three years ago.  Nothing could be done to gain it back. She needed to subdue these turbulent emotions and just focus on how he could help Liliana.

“Are Bart and Fiona out of town? Or did they ask you to connect with me?”

Her face burned with heat at his question. “Fiona and Bart passed away eighteen months ago.”

Micah stilled once more. Waves of shock emanated from him and she squirmed.

His firm lips compressed into a line. “How?”

She swallowed hard.  “They were killed in a car accident involving a drunk driver.”

An outraged gleam appeared in his eyes, and a dull flush highlighted his cheekbones.

“Why didn’t you tell me they had died?”

Savannah looked away from him. “I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

An imprecation exploded from his lips and she flinched a little.

“I wouldn’t be interested? Savannah, are you out of your mind?”

“Micah—”

He shot up, six feet two inches of male aggravation. He fisted his hand in his hair, tugging at the strands as if he’d rip them out. “I cared about Fiona and Bart as much as you did. We were going to all be part of a family once upon a time.  What in the world makes you think I wouldn’t be interested? I’d be a good deal more than interested.”

She stood. “Micah—”

Hands falling to his sides, he stalked over to her. His body fairly trembled in rage, his amber eyes unyielding like marble.  “Try devastated. Try heart-broken. Try almost anything else than just interested, Savannah.”

“You’re not letting me—”

“I may not have had any intention of setting my eyes on you again,” he thundered. “I may have wanted nothing else to do with you. But that has never extended to your family. You know me well enough to know this is true.”

Her nostrils flared. Did he think she’d take his verbal assault lying down? In hindsight, maybe she should have told him, but he acted as if he was the only wronged party.

“Well, I know how adverse you are to attending funerals, Micah,” she clipped out in a cool tone. “Even of those who I love dearly. Let’s not pretend I didn’t have a prerequisite.”

The amber gaze burned down at her, incandescent with the heat of warning. “Don’t even go there.”

She bristled, feeling the hairs along her arms and neck rise like those of a cat in response. “You can act like you’re the victim here but when my best friend died, you were conspicuously absent.”

“Oh, don’t even!” he snarled.

“Don’t even what? Tell the truth?”

“Nascha was not your sister.”

“She was like a sister to me!” Savannah lashed out. Her fingers curled into fists. “When I needed you the most, you left me to fend for myself.”

“Well what did you expect me to do, Savannah? You chose that woman over me. You let her destroy what we had. When I heard she died I almost did a dance—”

He stopped abruptly, his head knifing sideways, aware he’d gone too far.  But the words might as well have already been said. Hot moisture pricked her eyes at his callousness.  Time neglected to soothe the wounds.  If anything, this conversation proved that time had exacerbated them to festering, open sores.

“Nascha didn’t destroy anything we had, Micah.” A range of emotions she couldn’t name rocked her like a fierce windstorm. “You did that yourself with your hands.”

“I was still willing to—”

“Ms. Woods?”

Savannah jumped at the sound of Dr. Yamaguchi’s voice behind her.  She turned around.  The woman wore a carefully blank expression on her face. Savannah’s cheeks burned. What was she doing here arguing with Micah about a past better left forgotten while her niece was in jeopardy?  What kind of an aunt was she?

“Yes, Dr. Yamaguchi?”

“I wanted to give you an update on Liliana’s progress.”

She cleared the thickness from her throat and squared her shoulders.  “Please do.”

The doctor’s eyes strayed to Micah but she directed her question at Savannah. “Would you like to go to my office in private?”

“I’m here at the request of Ms. Woods, Dr. Yamaguchi.” Micah stretched out his hand. “I’m Dr. Reddington.”

“I see.” Dr. Yamaguchi returned the shake but lifted her brow to Savannah. “Ms. Woods?”

Savannah nodded tightly and followed the doctor down the twisting hallways to her office.  Micah’s long strides tread behind her. The silence sizzled. She was determined to avoid talking to Micah unless it related to her niece.

Micah smoldered while they traversed the winding hallways to get to their destination. Why would she keep Fiona and Bart’s death from him? It enraged him to the point where he wanted to shake some sense into her.  For Savannah to do such an atrocious thing gave the impression he was some sort of monster to be avoided at all costs.

The sight of her again after all this time had thrown him into a tangled web of confusion. Time had been kind to her. He’d known it would.  Even his memories, which he’d stamped out over the years, paled in comparison to her in the flesh.

Those gemstone eyes still had the ability to captivate him. The right one was a cool Mediterranean blue and the left, a warm chestnut brown with a ring of gold in the center. Her left eye had a unique way of flashing when she was angry.  That curtain of blue-black hair had a silky texture that came from daily care. The alabaster skin rivalled the purity of fresh cream and her body was slim like a violinist’s bow.

“And we’re here,” Dr. Yamaguchi stated, interrupting the train of his thoughts, for which he was thankful. If he started to focus on Savannah’s unearthly and ethereal beauty, then he’d forget the way she broke his heart. He’d forget the way she left him to fend for himself when scrutiny had almost cost him the career he worked so hard to build.

Micah walked around the desk and pulled out Dr. Yamaguchi’s chair for her to sit in. An amused expression lifted the planes of her face. “Why, thank you.” She sat. He would have done the same to Savannah, for any woman, in fact, but Savannah had already seated herself. He took it as the affront she meant for him to take it as. Fine, if she wanted it to be that way, then he’d let her have it that way.

Once he sat, the doctor got right to the point.

“We’ve been monitoring Liliana’s progress for the past twenty-four hours. Her blood pressure is low along with her white blood cell count.  She’s currently going in and out of consciousness for brief periods of time.”

Micah frowned. “Has there been some trauma to her brain?”

“Not from what we could observe,” Dr. Yamaguchi stated. “We’ve not completed an MRI due to her condition.  I believe this is the body’s natural defense to help her heal. We’ve seen it in other cases where patients who have experienced burns to large portions of the body retreat into the subconscious.”

The doctor retrieved a set of high resolution photographs from a folder on her desk. Micah, despite all of his training and experience, fought the horror of seeing the tiny child burned along the right side of her body. 

“This is a photograph of Liliana before she received treatment. You can see there are several third degree burns here, and here.” She pointed to places along the girl’s leg and upper thigh. “Along her side here, there’s a group of second degree burns which, with some daily care, can heal in a few weeks.

“Liliana’s right arm received a lot of trauma.”  She pulled that photograph and set it before them.  “The dead tissue along her arms was debrided when we received her into our care.”

“What method did you use?” Micah peered closer at the photographs, listening to the doctor’s responses while studying the extent of the damage.

“When you debrided the flesh, did—”

Savannah hissed, stopping the conversation. Micah glanced over at her and saw the stricken look on her face. The top of his ears heated. He’d gone into professional mode without being conscious of it.  At times, the dialogue between medical professionals could be harsh and unfeeling.

Dr. Yamaguchi turned her attention to Savannah. “Do you need me to take a break, Ms. Woods? I know this is difficult.”

Savannah’s skin had taken on a ghostly hue. Lines of strain etched the corners of her mouth.  Would she be okay?  He turned and reached for her hands knotted together in her lap. They were icy cold. 

He used his other hand to massage some warmth into her tightly clasped appendages. “Do you want me to take care of this? If you give Dr. Yamaguchi permission, she can discuss this with me and I can relay the information to you.”

Her two-tone eyes locked on him, a hint of wetness making them appear like high polished stones.  A tremble had overtaken her lips but after a moment, she shook her head. “No, I need to be here. But...just...don’t leave me, okay?”

Micah started, hands freezing in mid-massage. The choice of her words brought back the memory of three years ago. Blood pounded in his ears and the cords of his neck tautened. How dare she? He’d uttered almost the exact same phrase to her that long-ago day, losing his pride and pleading with her not to walk out that door.  She’d hesitated for five minutes, her body still as a statue. Then she moved, the black swish of her hair being the last he saw of her.

He released her, his jaw ticking. Savannah shook harder and from the dawning horror in her eyes, he knew she recognized her folly. 

“Micah, please—”

“Don’t, Savannah.” He fought to control the bite in his words.  “Let’s not go there, okay?”

“Do you need some time alone to discuss your decision?” Dr. Yamaguchi’s eyes darted between the two of them.

Savannah stared at him. “I don’t.” The way she said it, he knew she was leaving the ball in his court as to whether or not he would stay.

He blew out a breath and tore himself from those eyes.  If someone had stabbed a knife into his stomach, it would have hurt less than the predicament Savannah had put him in. “Please continue, Doctor.”

The doctor went on with her report, answering his inquiries whenever he needed a point clarified.  In order to focus on the case, he blocked out all sensory input of Savannah by his side.  Even when she asked a question, he concentrated on the words, not the sound of her voice or her expression.

Once they finished the report, which was more or less a procedural of Liliana’s injuries and what they were doing currently for management, Dr. Yamaguchi leaned back. “You can visit your niece whenever you like. She may be more alert today. We’ve given her a light pain killer but she’s going to complain about the pain. Make sure you acknowledge it but let her know that soon the pain will pass.”

Micah stood and opened the door, waiting for the women to pass him. He mentally assessed various treatments to determine which would be the best method for Liliana. 

“Are you listening to me?”

The shrill note in Savannah’s voice brought him out of his reflections. Dr. Yamaguchi had left the room. “I wasn’t. What did you say?”

“Do you want to see Liliana?”

“Of course. That’s what I’m here for, aren’t I?”  He couldn’t keep the disdain out of his voice.

“Don’t try to twist this, Micah.” Her brown eye flared like a flame.

His head tilted to the side. “Twist this? I’m not doing anything of the sort. I’m seeing this all quite clearly. You’re using me.”

Savannah’s mouth dropped open. “I’m not using you.”

He ignored her. “You must have learned how to set the trap from some notes Nascha left behind.”

Twin spots of color brightened her cheeks like roses. “Don’t talk about her that way! She was my friend, Micah.”

“And what about Fiona and Bart? Why did you show more compassion for Nascha, who didn’t deserve it, than for your own sister?”

“What are you talking about?”

He almost roared at her, but at the last second he bent his head until they were almost nose to nose.  Anger whipped along his spine. “Fiona was going to be your matron of honor at our wedding. Bart and Donald were my best men.  Don’t you think I had a right to know? Yet, you spent the cost of a stamp and a letter to invite me to a funeral for a woman who I had no reason to say farewell to.”

“You should have come.” The flush expanded from her cheeks to her hairline.  “You knew how important Nascha was to me and you didn’t even respond. I’ll never forgive you for leaving me when I needed you the most. When you walked away from me—”

“Me?” An eyebrow arched. “I do believe you were the one who walked out of the door.”

“I may have walked away that day, but you’d done it long before then.”

The following silence crackled. Her brown eye flashed with fire. The blue one was hard as an ice shard.  A heavy weight landed on his shoulders. Suddenly he was weary. Weary of rehashing the past and listening to her give sainthood to a woman who was far from it.

“Look, you didn’t have to set me up so I’d feel compelled to help Liliana. You make me look like some sort of troll that had to be tricked into doing a good deed. If you’d simply asked for my help I would have been here.” 

“I didn’t set you up.”

He dug his thumb and forefinger into his eyes. “Enough.  I’m tired and I don’t want to talk about this anymore. It doesn’t matter how you got me here. I’m here and I’ll be glad to help advise with Liliana’s treatment any way I can.”

Savannah breathed noisily through her nose. “Fine. Then after, you can go back to your life and we don’t have to see each other again.”

Micah trailed after her on their way to Liliana’s room. He ignored the feeling of an invisible hand squeezing his heart at her words.

“Oh, Mom, there’s nothing like hot chocolate and cinnamon apple muffins in the afternoon,” Savannah spoke around said items currently filling her mouth.

“I wouldn’t have guessed.” Her mother Maxine stared pointedly at the half empty mug and the third muffin being stuffed in Savannah’s mouth. 

The confrontation with Micah had set her on edge. Her nerve endings had stretched like rubber bands when she’d finally left the hospital hours later, long after Micah had gone. Although they kept the rest of their discourse focused on her niece, their hostility with each other simmered beneath the surface.

When problems and unresolved issues came into her life, she drowned them with snack food when she got home. Sinking her teeth into the decadence of Maxine’s muffins, she rolled her eyes with pleasure as the sweetness combated the acidity of the altercation she’d endured with Micah.

“You know, eating all those won’t make the problems go away,” Maxine warned.

“I’m aware of that, Mom. But it releases those hormones in my brain and gives me the false security everything will be okay now that I’ve taken a bite. Or two.”

“If it were only that easy,” her mother murmured, taking another sip of her lemonade.

Savannah reached for another muffin when her mother took the plate away and got up from the table.

“No more for you, my dear.”

Savannah sipped her hot chocolate. When she’d taken over Bart and Fiona’s home a year ago, she thought she’d never be able to get used to living in the house where her sister once lived.  After all, it was their house they had built together ten years ago.  She felt like an intruder and wasn’t sure if she should remove anything from the home.

Then her mother had arrived from her second home up North, and slowly boxed Fiona and Bart’s things away over a period of three weeks.  Despite the sorrow that accompanied her, Maxine let her know it was okay to make changes.

“She and Bart are alive in Liliana,” Maxine told her that day when she’d boxed up the last of their clothes, ready to give them to the local charity shop. “I can pretend to try to keep her alive with things or I can rejoice that she’s with my Lord and King. I can mourn her absence or I can take comfort in the Lord’s graciousness that He gave me a granddaughter to continue my baby’s legacy.”

Savannah studied her mother.  At fifty-four, Maxine retained a youthful appearance with a short pixie cut of blond hair and smooth, unblemished skin. Over the past eighteen months, lines had formed around her eyes and mouth but no one would say those lines detracted from her beauty.

Despite the pain of their present circumstances, having Maxine and Lawrence with her made everything bearable.

“Thanks, Mom,” Savannah vocalized her thoughts. “And not just for the muffins and hot chocolate.”

Maxine went over and hugged her close. Enveloped in the scent of her mother’s favorite perfume, Savannah sent up a silent prayer of thanks.

“I’ve always enjoyed reading the story of Job.” Maxine pressed a kiss to the top of her head and then released her.  “But I never thought my life would in any way resemble his.”

Her parents’ unquenchable faith remained a source of comfort, yet Savannah saw how difficult it was for Maxine yesterday when she’d gone to see Liliana for a few short minutes. Though the little girl had given Maxine a weak smile when she saw her grandmother, the sight of her granddaughter in that state almost broke her. Once she’d gone out of Liliana’s eyesight, Maxine crumpled into Lawrence, who took her back to the house.

“Snuffy was more alert today, just like Dr. Yamaguchi said she would be.” Savannah took her cup over to the sink and swished water inside of it. “She talked to me for a little bit, asking where Markita was.”

“How is her little friend? God forgive me, I forgot to ask about her.”

“No worries, Mom.” Savannah picked up the plate with the last few muffins on them and placed them on a display stand in the center of kitchen table. “I saw Markita’s mom yesterday and today. Her daughter is doing a little bit better than Snuffy. I know Dr. Yamaguchi is working with her, as well. I think they want to keep the girls apart for another day or so and then they’ll let them see each other.”

“Will it help them? Seeing each other in that state?”

“Dr. Yamaguchi thinks so.  The girls are close.”

A quick stab of sorrow pierced the middle of Savannah’s stomach. Although a three-year age gap existed between them, she and Fiona had gotten along well. Perhaps it was because Fiona had a gentle, loving spirit. She was content to be in the background, comfortable with anonymity. When Nascha approached Savannah about a career in modeling, Fiona had encouraged her to pursue it. 

“You’ll always wonder if you didn’t do it, Savvy,” Fiona’s words echoed in her mind. “If you find out you don’t enjoy it, you can leave and come back home to Tawas.”

“Or, you can come stay with me at my high-rise apartment in New York,” Savannah had responded back with a soft laugh.

Fiona shook her head, her gray eyes warm and shining. “Oh no, sister mine. Everything I want is right here. I’ll raise my children here with Bart and we’ll die here.”

Savannah surfaced from the past. Dear God, did you have to take both of them away? Couldn’t you have just left one to help Liliana?

No, she couldn’t think like that. Despite the fact she didn’t know how Fiona and Bart’s death served a purpose, the fact was it did, whether she understood it in this life or the next.

Thinking of her sibling made her think of Micah and her back stiffened once again at the memory of their quarrel.

“What is it, my dear?”

Savannah glanced over at her mother, who studied her with calm blue eyes. She wondered how the other woman would take the news of Micah’s presence. Talking about their failed relationship had been a taboo subject for her for a long time. When her parents tried to approach it years ago, they were met with her insistence she didn’t want to rehash the past. It made sense she’d be the one to bring it up.

“I contacted Micah yesterday. He came into town today and was with me as we went over Liliana’s condition with the doctor.”

Maxine froze and blinked like an owl, the glass of lemonade suspended on the way to her mouth. “You did?”

Savannah made herself busy, opening the dishwasher to her left and starting to remove the dishes from it.  ‘Yes. I thought it was best if he were here to give his opinion on her case.”

She tried to keep her voice dispassionate. Her mother didn’t need to know how much it cost her to reach out to her former fiancé and ask for his help.

“No wonder you ate three muffins and downed two cups of cocoa.”

The plate she held in her hand clattered to the counter top. “Mom.”

“Well, my dear. I’m surprised you’d reach out to him after all this time. I believe you told me you never wanted to see or hear from him again.”

“Well,” she answered, mimicking her mother’s tone, “desperate times call for desperate measures.”

Maxine went on to drink her lemonade. “Desperate? I don’t know about that.  I think you needed him because out of everyone in the world, he’d be the most logical choice.”

The memory of the text message she sent Micah made Savannah squirm.

“I’m glad you contacted him, Savvy.” Her mother’s face lit up. “Your father and I liked him. We still do. Fiona adored him.  I know if there was anyone she’d trust with her daughter’s life in a situation like this, it would be Micah.”

Savannah knew that to be true, too. Fiona had discernment about people. An awareness if a person was genuine or not.

“Fiona was heartbroken when you two split,” her mother said as if Savannah had expressed her thoughts aloud. “It bothered her you two couldn’t work things out.”

“There was nothing to work out, Mom. Micah turned out to be someone I couldn’t trust anymore.”

“Then why is he here?”

The question brought Savannah up short. Why was he here then? She pursed her lips. Because she trusted him with her niece’s life, that’s all. As a plastic and reconstructive surgeon, he specialized in burn and complex wounds. If anyone could help her, it would be him. Her niece’s needs outweighed any personal problems she had with him.

So, it wasn’t that she couldn’t trust him with Snuffy. She just would never again trust him with her heart.

“I need his advice to help me make the right decisions when it comes to Liliana’s care.”

“Are you sure that’s all?”

She tried to keep her hands from shaking in reaction. “Of course, Mom. The only person that matters is Snuffy. Getting her well. Whatever Micah and I had is dead. But he’s good at his job.”

“You didn’t think so when that whole fiasco with Nascha happened.”

She couldn’t do this right now. Thinking of Micah brought up Nascha. Thinking about Nascha made her remember why she fell out of love with Micah. Thinking of that only made her angrier that she had to reach out to him despite the fact she had no desire to do that.  The memory of his mocking words that she would be the one to need him before he’d ever want to lay eyes on her again lifted its head. She hated him for it. He’d always been right whenever it came to her. When they were together, she adored that aspect of their relationship – the ability he had in understanding her. Now she despised it.

“Mom, can we drop the subject, please? Micah’s going to help me make the best decisions for Liliana. Then he and I will go back to our lives and won’t have to see each other again.”

Maxine drained her glass and set it on the counter. “All right, my dear. I’ll leave you to do what’s best. But I’ve only got one thing to say and you’re not going to like it.”

Savannah straightened her shoulders. “What is it, Mom?”

“All those dishes you pulled out of the washer are dirty.”

Nascha Dubois came toward him with a bouquet of black sunflowers clutched in her hand.  Dressed in a red glittery dress that hugged her svelte figure, her burnt sienna skin glowed with a luminous sheen.  Those elongated slender limbs swayed gracefully. With every step, her black hair swished in rhythmic cadence. The eyes were dead though, dark and hollow like the pits of a skull. Her once coral-hued full lips twisted in a grotesque manner. They shouldn’t be that way. He’d injected filler in them, so why were they so thin?

Micah asked, “What happened to your lips?”

“I don’t have any lips. They weren’t full enough for me. I needed them to be fuller.”

“But they were exactly the way you wanted them.”

Those thin lips smirked and then snarled, “Not anymore.”

The black bouquet of sunflowers wilted. Dry black petals fell to the murky mist covering the ground. At the base of the bouquet, a syringe full of fluid and topped with a shiny scalpel nestled in the folds of the tissue paper.

“Am I beautiful yet?”

Then the woman took the instrument and turned it toward her body. “I’ll never be beautiful enough, will I?”

She lifted the scalpel high into the air and plunged it downward.  Micah jerked awake.

He gulped in air, breathing greedily through his mouth. Sweat dotted his body like dew, his shirt was plastered to him. He splayed his hand on his chest, attempting to calm down while his heart ricocheted inside his ribcage. Long minutes later, his cardiac system returned to normal.

He’d never been one of those who took much stock in the subconscious mind. Dreaming about Nascha bothered him because he’d never liked her.  After she destroyed his world, he especially hated the fact that she occupied his slumber. 

Micah glanced over at the clock and read the time. Two-thirty p.m.  He let out a harsh sound, pushed the covers off, and got up to go to the bathroom.  The hot water stung his hands but he welcomed the sensation. It rid him of the residue left from his dream. In the subconscious realm, Nascha may have a foothold, but not in the real world.

He turned off the faucet and stared at the water spots on the nozzle. He spent so much time avoiding thoughts of Savannah that to willingly think about her hurt like a physical wound. Micah rubbed his face, trying to wipe her image from his mind. 

His cellphone rang in the bedroom and he went to answer it.

“Hello, my sweet boy,” his mother sang in his ear.

“Hi, Mom.” Thirty-five years old and he was still Joslyn’s ‘sweet boy’.

“When were you going to tell me you were home?”

He groaned. “Who told you? Tabitha?”

“No, Donald.”

Micah heaved a sigh. “I wish he’d keep his mouth shut.”

“I’m glad he didn’t. There’s only one person in the world that would make you drop everything and rush home. And it’s not me.”

“It’s not what you think, Mom.”  Though he couldn’t deny Savannah still had some sick kind of hold on him, he didn’t have to dwell on it. “Her niece is in trouble.”

“What do you mean?”

He took a few moments to bring his mother up to speed.  She moaned when she heard about Fiona and Bart’s death. “I wish I’d known. And poor Liliana! Oh, the poor dear. I’m going to pray for her.”

“You do that, Mom,” he replied, trying to keep his voice even. Prayer. It hadn’t done much for him when he begged on his hands and knees for God not to take away the one woman who had been his world, his light. Hadn’t done much good then and he figured it wouldn’t do much now.

That pain in his chest throbbed and he forced himself to focus back on the conversation.

“... Maxine and I thought it best to keep our distance when you two broke up. Not because we wanted to, of course. But—”

“I understand, Mom.” Micah didn’t appreciate till then how he and Savannah’s breakup had affected his parents. They had loved her and had anticipated the day when she’d become part of the family.

Nascha’s lovely face flashed in his mind and newly-resurrected scorn curled his lip.  That woman had a lot to pay for. Too bad she was on the other side.

“Are you going to consult on the case with her niece?”

He sat on the bed and stared at his feet. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do exactly.  Savannah and I went over the doctor’s report together so we could understand her treatment.  Once we observe her for a couple more days, we’ll have a better chance of determining the best course of action.”

“I know you’re not here for a social call, but...” His mother let her voice trail off deliberately.

Micah gave a helpless laugh. “I’ll see what I can do to come see you guys while I’m here.”

“Your father and I were wondering when we were going to see you. It’s been well over a year. And phone calls and text messages don’t always do it.”

Micah winced. “Mom, I’m sorry. I’ve just been busy. You and Dad decided to move up north when he retired. I can’t always make the trips up there.”

“We understand, sweet boy, but we still miss you.”

Micah gave a reluctant amused sigh. Joselyn was the nicest kind of manipulator who used honey to draw in her victims. “I miss you, too, Mom.  I’ll see what I can do, okay?”

“Very good.” A satisfied sound came through on the phone. Micah visualized his mother looking as innocent as a puppy.

“How’s Dad doing?”

“Your father is out with a couple of men on a nature hike.  Four feet of snow and he’d rather trudge through that than be inside. He’ll be back tonight.”

Ten minutes later he ended the call while a picture of his father surrounded by a vast area of wooded land in the middle of nowhere flashed in his mind.  Other dormant memories sparked to life. Many were the times they’d all travel to Huron National Forest for camping trips, snowmobile trails, canoeing, and other outdoor fun.

“Being out here in the open land like this,” Cameron once said, “it’s as close to being with God without heaven. Out here, all your problems fade away.”

Micah fell back on the bed and gazed at the ceiling, remembering his father’s words.  A week after Savannah had left him, he’d taken a trip there on the campgrounds. He had walked for miles through the forest. Dead leaves crunched under his feet, reminding him of the cracks in his heart. Micah had stood there in the midst of that great open land.  A harsh autumn wind had chafed his cheeks in the middle of God’s country, and he’d felt utterly alone.  His problems hadn’t faded away, and his mind refused to be soothed.

He decided then to take Greg Bolton up on his offer and went into partnership with him. If he stayed in Tawas, surrounded by the remnants of his broken dreams, it would be too much to bear.

The pain in his chest pricked again and he winced. Quickly he got up and headed into the shower.  Scrubbing with vigor, he got himself together. He had to stop thinking about her. She only contacted him for one reason, and that was to assist with the care of Liliana. He would do so gladly. He owed it to Fiona and Bart to do whatever he could to make their daughter’s life normal again.

Under the spray of water, Micah closed his eyes.  Against his will or maybe because some part of him longed to, his mind brought up Savannah’s image.  She had a delicate bone structure with a stubborn, pointed chin. Her narrow nose had lightly flared nostrils above her Cupid’s bow full lips. High cheekbones framed her face, with sooty, real eyelashes fanning in an arc above them.

Her eyes still captivated him. Their exotic two-tone color had ensnared him from the start that long-ago day.  He recalled the bright smile reflecting her inner glow. How often had he come to visit her and that smile warmed his insides like the rays of the sun? He had looked forward to their wedding day, reveling in the knowledge he’d live in joy for the rest of his life.

Abruptly he opened his eyes again and shut off the water. Savannah had no qualms about the loss of their relationship and neither should he.

Savannah experienced the familiar tug in her heart that alerted her to Micah’s presence before he came into sight.  Despite the fact she had no business feeling a hint of anticipation at seeing him again, she had difficulty banking down the sensation. Yesterday, they opened up a can of worms and argued like children. She had no wish to do the same thing today. He’d made it clear he was here to help her with Liliana. That was all.

Her heart sped up just a little bit, though. He walked toward her, his snow-laden wool coat draped on his shoulders. A few snowflakes settled in his thick, blond hair and he brushed them away with a nonchalant hand. From her time as a model, most of the men she’d worked with on shoots sported the unrealistic view of masculinity. Muscular physiques, washboard abs, and manicured looks in one form or another.

Micah lacked the exoticness needed to grace the cover of a magazine. A man with a slim build and pale, freckled skin, his long hair framed a face with a razor blade nose and thin lips. A prominent but not unattractive cleft adorned his chin.  Gorilla-sized pectorals and six pack abs would never find a place on his frame. He didn’t have the drop dead gorgeous looks of a male model. Yet, there was that certain something about him which drew a woman’s eye. A latent masculine grace underpinned by a firm will.

With a fluid motion, he took his coat and dropped it on a chair beside him. Her eyes strayed to his shoulders, covered with an almond brown sweater. They lacked the massive depth of a bodybuilder, but they were solid.  Once, when she’d had an unfortunate bout with food poisoning, he came over to her apartment and washed her face, pulled her hair back into a ponytail, and made her rest her head on those firm shoulders. She’d fallen asleep, comforted by his strength.

“Savannah.” His curt tone brought her out of the memory and she mentally shook herself.

She stood up from her seat. “Micah.”

Keep it simple and straightforward. The only person who mattered was Liliana.

She looked up into his face. Blank and inscrutable. It seemed he also sought to avoid the same blow-ups from yesterday.

He tugged the bottom of his sweater and stuffed his hands into his pants pocket. “How’s Liliana?”

“Dr. Yamaguchi says she’s more alert today and not in as much pain.”

A thin, blond eyebrow arched with approval. “That’s good. Third degree burns aren’t as painful because of the nerve damage. It’s the second degree burns that smart like mad.”

Savannah’s throat dried. To think Liliana lay there with any kind of pain rippling through her body made Savannah want to howl. The little girl had been through so much already. Must Liliana suffer this agony, too?

“She’s only three, Micah,” Savannah whispered, forgetting to be on her guard.  “Three years old. This is a lot for an adult to handle. I can’t imagine how a child can hold up under these circumstances.”

Her fingers dragged through her hair and she stared out the window. The snowstorm continued, although in abated ferocity. Her mind churned with the same turmoil. How could God allow a small child to deal with all of this?  What possible purpose could there be for a young one?  A few church friends had called her in the past three days. More than once she’d heard the cliché statement ‘God has a plan’. Her mind wouldn’t accept that simplistic statement. What plan?

“Savannah.”

Micah’s voice drew her out of thoughts.  Those amber eyes compelled her to focus on him.  Like a moth to flame, she gazed into their depths. “What is it, Micah?” Was that her voice that was so breathless?

“Don’t give up.” He reached out as if to clasp her shoulders but then stopped and thrust his hands back into his pockets.  “Don’t give up.”

She ignored the twinge of disappointment. “I’m not giving up.”

“I mean, don’t give up believing things are going to get better for Liliana.”

Her throat convulsed and her finger drifted to her bobbing Adam’s apple. “I’m trying not to.”

Micah let loose a sigh. “I’ve seen some pretty terrible things in my line of work. I’ve seen patients younger than Liliana in situations like this or worse. I know that beyond my skill or any surgeon’s ability is something bigger. It’s the hope they will get better. And you have to hold on to that.”

This was the Micah Reddington of her past. This warm, caring man who sought to ease her fears with words of encouragement. Here stood the fiancé of her heart, the one whose strength she could rely on. The sun’s light that filtered through the window surrounded him like an aura, bathing him in golden hues.

“Savannah Woods?”

The harsh grunt of another man’s voice intruded. It broke the temporary aberration and heat flooded her face. Micah seemed just as startled but he turned toward the source of the voice that called her name.

Turning to meet the man who called her, Savannah dampened down a feeling of disappointment. “Yes?”

A large, rotund man with a comb-over and a pirate’s mustache waddled toward her.  His cheeks jostled with each step and as he neared, she could hear him wheezing. Beside him walked a short, slender woman with short, spiked blonde hair and a bowlegged stride. 

The large man spoke, or rather coughed out, “I’m Lieutenant Bullard and this is my partner, Detective Chalker. Do you have a few minutes to talk?”

“Of course.” She shook their hands.

Lieutenant Bullard glanced at Micah. “Is there somewhere we can talk privately?”

“You can speak in front of Dr. Reddington. He’s here at my request.”

A look of incredible irony twisted Micah’s features and the softer memories of the past eroded. Savannah gritted her teeth. Why had she allowed some words of encouragement to sway her into thinking underneath the exterior the man she once loved still existed? He was a doctor. Encouraging one’s patient was a parlor trick they learned in medical school. Mollified despite the absurdity of her thoughts, she saw the lieutenant nod.

They went to an unoccupied space in the waiting room. Lieutenant Bullard flopped in one of the chairs with a loud sigh and wiped the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief he produced from a pocket in his jacket.  Detective Chalker sat next to him.

Micah settled in the chair behind Savannah. When they were seated, Detective Chalker asked, “Before we begin, Ms. Woods, how’s your daughter?”

“Niece. She’s doing as well as can be expected. The doctor took her off the breathing machine so she’s able to breathe on her own, which is a blessing.”

“Good to hear, Ms. Woods.” Lieutenant Bullard cleared his throat gruffly. “Here are the details of the investigation so far.”

Without looking, she reached for Micah’s hand from behind and squeezed. It was such a natural thing to do, she wasn’t even aware she’d done it.

She swallowed, trying to moisten her throat. “Yes.”

The man retrieved a small notebook from his person. “The fire marshal notified us the source of the fire was from the dryer.”

Savannah drew back. “The dryer?”

“Yes. Apparently, this type of thing is quite common.”

Confused, Savannah looked back at Micah, who shared her consternation. “But how can the dryer—”

“More specifically, the dryer vent.”

“The vent?” She didn’t understand how they were connected.

“Over time, the dryer vent gets clogged with lint not captured by the dryer’s filter. As the vent gets more and more crowded with lint, it restricts the air flow, causing the dryer to overheat.”

“Once that happens,” Detective Chalker added, “it presents the perfect conditions for a fire.”

Savannah could hardly speak. “It’s so unreal. Something so small as lint could do so much damage.”

Lieutenant Bullard nodded in sympathy. “Unfortunately, it happens often. About fifteen thousand fires related to dryers happen every year.”

And we became part of the statistic. Liliana had been the unfortunate victim.

“What added to this was the type of material used for the vent.  Aluminum foil only helped to inflate the problem.”

“But how did Liliana and Markita get caught?”

Detective Chalker leaned in. “From what we gathered from witnesses, the fire had spread to the northern wall where the indoor play area is located. When the alarms went off, the staff very quickly herded the children out of the building. However, Markita’s favorite doll was left there and she went back for it. Liliana went back with her.”

“It’s still a bit hazy what happened from there but we know Liliana tried to save her little friend.”

Savannah’s throat convulsed at the words. Tears collected in her eyes, but they weren’t just of sadness but a mixture of both pride and sorrow.

A brisk rub along her back pulled her out of her thoughts and she glanced behind her at Micah. He had a difficult time controlling the emotion, but she knew he was as moved by the details as she was.

She refocused on the officers. “What happens now?”

“We’re going to tie up some loose ends, but we knew you’d want to know the cause.” The lieutenant reached into his pocket and handed her his business card, which she accepted.

“Thank you for this, and for telling me.”

The officers stood, ready to depart. Detective Chalker patted her on the shoulder. “If you need anything, Ms. Woods, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“I’ll be sure to remember that.”

After a handshake with Micah, the officers went away.

“It’s almost too much to take in,” Savannah breathed when Micah sat again.

“I can well imagine.”

“Lint.” She looked down at her clothes and tugged off a piece of fuzz. “This caused my ladybug and her friend to get burned by a fire.”

She met Micah’s penetrating gaze. “Why is it always something so small that can destroy something so precious?”

Although Micah’s mind still reeled from the selfless, brave act of Fiona and Bart’s daughter, Savannah’s words evoked a different response. He stared at the lint on the tip of her dainty finger nail. It was impossible to not compare that little puff of nothing with the tube of lipstick that unraveled their relationship.

Of course, Savannah never guessed that’s where the deterioration started. How could she? She’d been so hypnotized by Nascha it would not have occurred to her to even suspect it. She never saw the change in her best friend’s treatment of them. But he’d seen it. And it was over a tube of berry red delicious lipstick.

Savannah’s image blurred from his vison and he traveled back to three months after their engagement. He’d gone to see her at one of her gigs.  A charity fashion show to raise funds for a domestic violence shelter in Detroit. Savannah and Nascha had volunteered their services and helped to coach women who had been victims of abuse to strut the catwalk with the best of them.

That was a preview of The Cure: A Clean Second Chance Romance (Michigan Sweet Romance). To read the rest purchase the book.

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