Jill Elizabeth - Season of Danger

“When were you going to get around to telling me about the PTSD?” Megan asked softly, waving the others away. They didn’t move far. People around here weren’t typically shy.

Tess took an irritable breath. “I apologize for not telling you.”

“Then tell me now.”

Tess glared toward the curious onlookers, who continued to gawk. “Private conversation here, folks.” Her voice was a little too confrontational, and she didn’t care. At last, the final stragglers ambled out the doorway.

Tess waited, annoyed by nosy people the way she’d never before been annoyed by them. “My fiancé was murdered in March.”

“What! I never heard that. No one told me anything.”

“We didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t want word to spread that my fiancé was Tanner Jackson.”

Megan’s full lips parted. “The country singer? That Tanner Jackson?”

“Quiet, please.” Tess glanced toward the entrance again. “He was a client of mine. We hit it off, fell in love, got engaged late last year. Tanner didn’t want to risk the ire of all his adoring female fans, so we kept it private.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Megan muttered. “You said he was murdered. I heard it was an accident. How could murder not have been blazoned all over the radio and gossip columns?”

“Good cops, good friends, tight lips. I am a publicist by profession, you know.”

Sean hung up the phone and turned back to them. “Gerard’s on his way. It’s going to be okay, Tess.”

Tess swung her legs over the side of the cot. “Not even my superhuman brother can just walk into a room and snap his fingers and make everything bad go away.”

“Dizzy?” Megan asked.

“I’m fine. How are the other patients?”

“They’re sleeping in the dorms, with folks keeping close watch on them,” Megan said. “Angel was called in a while ago, and he’s in the men’s dorm, Sandra is in the women’s dorm, praying with those who are afraid, helping the nurse and techs as they work. A couple of the ill are from their church.”

“So they aren’t all undernourished homeless.”

Megan shook her head. “And you said you ate a little of everything yesterday.”

“That’s right. I’ll go help Sandra.” Tess started to get up.

“You’ll do no such thing,” Megan said. “You will rest, as you should have been doing all along. If you don’t stop pushing yourself so hard, I’m going to call in reinforcements.”

Tess raised her eyebrows. “Yeah? Like who?”

“Mister Superhuman.”

“You think he’s going to make me behave?”

“Yep.”

Megan stepped across the clinic to close the door.

Sean stepped from Megan’s tiny office and sat down beside Tess on the cot, and she welcomed his sturdy presence. She needed his strength. She was also glad when Megan returned to them.

Dr. Megan Bradley had graduated second in her class at Kirksville Osteopathic in Missouri. She and Tess were nearly the same age, and both being professional single women, they tended to talk the same language, except for the second language Megan had learned in med school.

Since Tess had allowed Gerard to bully her into moving home with him and helping out at the mission after Tanner’s death, she and Megan had become close. She’d helped Megan in the clinic many times, and they’d spent their few off hours together shopping or looking for the best seafood restaurants in town, or, as Megan said, walking along the beach.

Megan was understandably mystified about why Tess had never told her about Tanner’s death, but Tess simply hated talking about that time in her life. She’d had too many nightmares, anyway, and she wanted those nightmares gone. Her arrival home with Gerard in March had met with no fanfare, no announcements.

Now Tess was sorry she hadn’t even given Megan at least a warning before this morning’s episode. After all, Megan had been working here when it all took place; they just hadn’t known each other well.

“The good news,” Sean said, patting Tess’s shoulder, “is that no more sick people have come in for the past…what did you say, Megan? Thirty minutes?”

“More like forty-five. Betty arrived just a few moments ago, and she’s helping Judy keep close watch over the patients in the dorms. I’ve completed all the tests and sent them to the lab.”

Tess nodded. Both Judy and Betty were two of the best RNs in the area, with much knowledge and tender hearts. This mission was blessed with a lot of knowledgeable, caring people. Tess couldn’t help silently asking herself if she belonged.

Sean leaned over and bumped shoulders with her. “I know that look.”

She glanced up at him, and her eyes grew warm with moisture.

“Stop it,” he said.

“Can’t help it. I’m sad about Stud.”

“You’re somehow blaming yourself for this, like you blame yourself for practically everything that goes wrong in the world. I think you’ve got control issues. You’re not God.”

Some of his words hit a sore spot. “When did you get the psychotherapy degree?” She knew her voice was a little sharp, but couldn’t he let up on her a little? “It could be days before we find out what really happened to Stud. I don’t feel good about not knowing.”

Megan hovered over Tess. “I called the lab for a stat on all the fluids I sent them. Even if we don’t get a quick answer from the autopsy, the lab staff is great, with good people to work with, and I’ve updated them. They know a lot of lives could be dependent on their work.”

“In other words, we could find out what happened at any time,” Sean said.

“I’m just waiting for the call.”

“People don’t often die from food poisoning,” Tess said.

“Not food poisoning alone,” Megan said. “But we know Stud had problems.”

“Alcohol,” Sean said. “Speed, too.”

“Really?” Tess asked.

Sean shrugged. “From what little I’ve deciphered from a couple of our conversations, he occasionally got so down and depressed that when he came into extra money, he would combine alcohol with meth just to escape his life for a while.”

Tess remembered the nights Gerard had been forced to ban Stud from sleeping in the dorm because of his altered level of consciousness and the danger that could cause for the other men in the dorm.

“I don’t know how Gerard does it,” Megan said softly.

Tess knew exactly what she meant. “He’s a strong man. He and Hans have always had hearts for the suffering—even those who seemed to bring it on themselves.”

“So do you, Tess,” Sean said. “And Megan.”

“And Sean.” Megan grinned up at him.

“Okay, enough mutual admiration,” Tess said dryly. “We’re all saints and angels. So why do we do what we do? I know why I’m here. I’m hiding from life. What about you two?”

“Same here,” Sean said.

“Really?” Megan said. “Because I thought it was to be close to—uh, well—I’m here to work off my school loans. So maybe we’re not such saints, after all. What are our clients and patients doing here?”

“Who knows why Stud abused alcohol and drugs?” Sean asked. “In the eight months I’ve worked here, I’ve discovered a lot of people try to self-medicate for depression, grief, mental illness they can’t afford to have treated.”

“That’s the real reason we’re here,” Tess said. “As Gerard has so often reminded me since he and Hans established this mission, this place is the poor man’s treatment center. It’s a mission not only to help feed the hungry and try to shelter them, but to share God’s love with them in a way they may never have experienced before.”

With a soft sigh, Megan paced across the clinic. Tess watched her. Megan had long, ginger-colored hair, delicate but exotic facial features, a tiny waist. Her movements were graceful and feminine, but those features belied the inner strength Tess had seen in her on more than one occasion. Unfortunately, in the eighteen months she had been here, Gerard had not managed to convince her of the truth of God’s mercy, which they shared with those who came here for help. Though Tess had no doubt that Gerard and Megan were drawn by some kind of unseen connection, Tess was convinced Megan would fulfill her final six months of duty and move on without anything being done to encourage a deepening of the relationship.